Transcendency: Chapter 11
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: For the record, diamonds games are really hard to write.
Two weeks passed by before any of them were ready. It had been exhaustingly long and yet seemed to go by in the blink of an eye. After having their hotel transformed into an arena, the boys had discussed the notion of moving elsewhere. They knew it was the smartest thing to do, especially if Nino’s assertion was right and the five of hearts really was designed especially for them. None of them wanted to risk becoming targets of the game master’s special kind of cruelty again, and yet they remained torn over what to do. Arguments were made for both sides. They were settled where they were, but there could be so many more games elsewhere in the city. They felt like sitting ducks, yet they had invested so much time creating a home out of their hotel and moving their greenhouse and generator would be no small feat. The reminders of the friend they’d lost were everywhere they looked; it was painful beyond reason and was more than enough motivation for all of them to want to start fresh somewhere else. But none of them could bring themselves to leave lest Jun someday try and return. They never outright mentioned it, but Nino knew it was this reason alone that they chose to remain.
Despite them staying put, there had still been no sign of Jun anywhere. As the days came and went, their hope that he would return to them began to fade. Even Aiba’s optimism was starting to wear thin as they all came to the discouraging realisation that he was not coming back. Coming to terms with this did little to ease the already high tensions between them. Conflicts were becoming more of a common occurrence as they fought to assign blame. The fractures of their friendship grew deeper as they found themselves constantly at one another’s throats, and it was with great struggle that they managed to make it through each day unscathed.
Nino felt it was a fair assumption to say it was really only because of Aiba that their relationships hadn’t fallen apart entirely. After his misplaced outburst at his doe-eyed friend several days earlier, he’d felt terribly guilty and made a conscious effort to control his emotions better. Aiba was probably the only one among them that didn’t hold any blame in Jun leaving, and the rest of them all knew it. He’d begged them on more than one occasion to stop fighting with each other, claiming if they were to have any chance at surviving, they needed to stay united even if their youngest was not there. It wasn’t an easy ask but for their beloved airhead, they would try. Nino forced aside his animosity towards Ohno and especially Sho in order to abide by Aiba’s request.
It was with much reluctance that they followed the signage to a new arena that night. Playing was the last thing they wanted to do; the fear their last game instilled in them was as strong as ever and with the damaged trust between them, they held little hope that they would be able to cope well in any challenge thrown at them tonight. But with no time left on their visa, they were given no choice but to push past their reservations and pray they would somehow make it through to see another sunrise.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Sho muttered as they stood staring up at the entrance of their old high school.
With the exception of the illuminated signs letting all players in the vicinity know that it had been transformed into an arena, it hadn’t changed. Everything looked the same-from the bronze insignia engraved on the columns at the entrance to the slightly crooked railing along the roof of the east-wing building. It was just like when they were students. The only thing missing was their uniforms, and their old classmate. Nino glanced fleetingly over his shoulder, half expecting Jun to come sauntering around the corner as fashionably tardy as he used to be in their school days. Seeing the ache in his friends’ eyes beside him, he knew they were all thinking the same thing despite not one of them bringing it up.
“We don’t have time to find a different arena,” said Ohno, sensing the discomfort of those alongside him as they stalled at the gateway. “It’s here or nowhere.”
The boys looked warily at the school, then to one another. Knowing the elder was right, they sighed.
“Looks like we’re going back to school then,” Nino said dryly.
Passing through the arena’s border, they entered the school grounds and made their way towards the main building. They ascended the stairs to one of the third-storey classrooms. It was there they discovered four more players. Almost everyone there was easily middle-aged. They made introductions promptly, not that the boys were feeling particularly sociable that evening. There was a woman with a rather sleepy-looking right eye; she introduced herself as Okubo. Beside her were two men, the bespectacled Takeyama and Ogura, who possessed a fatherly aura. The latter looked as though he wouldn’t have been out of place teaching in their school.
The fourth player looked to be only a high school student himself, and a delinquent one at that. With piercings in his ears, sharp features and dyed hair coiffed to spiky perfection, Ueda gave off a somewhat intimidating aura. He reminded Nino of the way Sho was during their high school years, so it was no surprise when he saw the two of them hitting it off as they waited for the countdown to conclude.
Tuning out Okubo’s incessant attempts to engage him in conversation, Nino turned his attention to the companions he came with. He expected Aiba to be just as friendly as he always was with the other players, so was taken aback by the way he was ignoring them completely. When he noticed the taller guy looking around with barely concealed anticipation, Nino sighed.
“He’s not going to show up.”
“You don’t know that for sure,” Aiba protested. “He has to earn visa days too, just like the rest of us. There’s every chance he could come.”
Nino rubbed his temple tiredly. “The odds of us encountering him by chance are like a million to one. If he’s still out there, he’s had two weeks to travel as far from this area as he pleases. Besides, I highly doubt he’d wait until his last day to play his next game.”
Aiba looked disappointed, choosing not to reply as his logic struck a nerve. Nino felt bad for having to break the news to him that their lost friend would not be joining them tonight, but he knew someone had to. If they were going to stand a chance at focusing on whatever game they would play tonight, they needed to make their peace with Jun’s absence once and for all.
Nino’s gaze swept over the classroom. At first glance, the layout didn’t appear much different to the days they used to frequent these halls. The tables were evenly spaced in rows throughout the room and were facing the blackboard. Written across the board were four dot points of no apparent connection:
“The game: Tongue-Twisted,” the AI announced. “Difficulty: Four of Diamonds.”
“At least with a diamonds game, your arm shouldn’t be much trouble,” Sho said, looking to Ohno’s sling-bound shoulder.
The elder nodded, grateful that there would be nothing too physical demanded of him from the looks of it. When their phones instructed them to choose a desk and take their seat, he walked calmly over to one of the tables nearest to the door. The others followed suit, spreading out around the room to find a desk they were comfortable with. Once everyone was seated, the rules of the challenge were explained to them.
“Moving from left to right of the room, players will play a game of shiritori based on the category prompts on the blackboard,” their phones said. “Time limit: Players will have fifteen seconds each to give a satisfactory answer. Those who survive ten minutes will clear the game.”
As soon as the rules were finished, eight ropes dropped from the ceiling above them, dangling at a perfect height for each player. It answered the question all of them were wondering about what would happen should they fumble or miss a round. With much apprehension, they slipped the nooses around their necks and prayed they would be able to think clearly.
The projector at the back of the room switched itself on and a spotlight appeared on the blackboard right next to the first category. It revealed the hidden starting word. Brazil.
Based on the geography of their chosen seats, Ogura was first. His fifteen seconds began immediately, the loud ticks of the passing seconds sounding in perfect synchronisation with the seven other phones in the room to add to the already intense pressure. But despite the added stress of the ticking timebomb, Ogura remained amazingly composed as he delivered his answer of “Libya”.
The colour of his personal countdown changed from black to green as it stopped, indicating his success. At the same time, Aiba’s countdown began. It was fair to say he was not nearly as calm as his predecessor. He was mouthing words to himself, as if running every possible country in his mind before realising his fellow player’s answer gave him ample options to choose from.
“Australia,” he said after an agonisingly long eight seconds.
“Afghanistan,” Sho answered soon after, almost as calmly as Ogura.
His country of choice was clearly not what Takeyama beside him was expecting to hear. The man looked thrown for a loop as he struggled to figure out which countries began with the letter ‘N’. It was with only three seconds left on the timer that he finally spoke.
“N-Norway,” he said somewhat doubtfully.
His answer, though accepted as satisfactory much to his own relief, only proved to cause the next player much torment. Okubo’s expression did little to hide her panic. Her eyes widened, her sleepy quality lost as she tried her hardest to come up with a country in keeping with the tricky criterion thrust upon her. The more the seconds ticked by, the more distressed she became, even to the point of claiming there were no countries available for her to select. She turned to Takeyama in anger.
“Idiot! Why did you have to say Norway?” she seethed. “You’ve doomed me!” She gestured to those on her right. “You’ve doomed us all!”
Takeyama flinched at her anger, his attempts at an apology lost beneath her chaotic rattling. Her last five seconds were spent yelling at someone unseen when she tried to make her case that it was unfair and the previous answer should have been a disqualification since it gave no chance for future answers to follow. Her complaints fell to none. When her timer ran out completely, her agitation silenced at once and she let out a soft whimper. She looked around at the others, frightened. Then the floor beneath her opened. She couldn’t even scream as both she and her chair fell through the dark hole. The noose tightened around her neck and almost as fast as she fell, the rope snagged, bringing her body to a sudden and fatal halt. As the distant clatter of the chair hitting the lower storey sounded, a suffocated gasp was the only noise to escape her as she met her demise.
There was no time to process her death as Nino was called on for his turn. His brain worked overtime to find the answer Okubo missed. He knew there had to be at least one acceptable answer or else Takeyama would have been the one to die, just as Okubo claimed. Having witnessed his fate should he fail, he was determined to get it right. He thought back to his school days and began to seriously regret skipping so many geography classes with his friends; he could only hope something sunk in from the times he did attend. It was with less than five seconds remaining that he struck his epiphany.
“Yemen,” he called out loudly, repeating it a few times for good measure.
His success was rewarded instantly and silently, the green glow of his stopped timer staring up at him from his phone. The game continued down the line without delay. Nino couldn’t help feeling discouraged. Even though he got it right, it felt as though his hard work hadn’t mattered in the least as he watched Ueda answer next.
“Netherlands,” he said after only a couple of seconds.
With but one player remaining, everyone looked to Ohno expectantly. His friends wanted to relax knowing there were plenty of easy answers he could give but from the hesitation painted on his face, they immediately knew things were not that simple. Perhaps it was the death they’d just witnessed, or the pressure of going last. Or maybe there were simply too many possibilities for him to think clearly. Whatever the reason for his uncertainty, his friends remained tense right up until the moment he answered.
“Sudan,” he said eventually with a slight stammer. His face scrunched up a second later as he pondered whether that was even a place, let alone a country. He looked more than surprised when his timer turned green with success. Despite feeling relieved that he’d given an acceptable answer, his fellow players couldn’t help wondering why he’d chosen such an atypical answer out of all possible countries starting with ‘S’.
With the first round complete, the players were offered a minute respite. Little rest was achieved in the short interval, however, especially with the way Okubo’s corpse continued to dangle between them. Nino tried not to look at her-the disturbing angle of her broken neck was distracting to say the very least but having her so close to him was certainly not doing anything to calm his already shot nerves. He did what he could to focus on the upcoming second round, studying the remaining categories on the board in an attempt to prepare his answers in advance. It did little good, however. He could not even begin to guess what the starting words would be, much less what answers to expect from the four players on his left. If their last round proved anything, it was that predictable answers were not on the cards in this game.
Three minutes into the game, the projector whirred as the spotlight drifted down the blackboard a couple of centimetres. The starting word for the second category-meals-was revealed: Steak. Like the previous round, Ogura was first to answer.
“Kimchi.” Just like last time, his response was delivered quickly and with calm confidence. His composure and quick thinking had Nino curious whether the man really could have been a teacher of sorts in their world, or if he was just very well-travelled. He certainly looked the type.
“Ice cream,” Aiba answered barely two seconds into his time. He said it with a beaming smile while bouncing excitably in his chair. His thrill at having come up with something so quickly made him almost seem like a child experiencing a sugar rush.
Sho smiled at him before giving his own answer of “minestrone”.
While his friends may have been enjoying themselves in this round, Nino was beginning to regret his choice of desk, especially now that he found himself succeeding the clearly flustered Takeyama. He hoped the man would be more forward-thinking with his answers from now on, though the fact that he took all of ten seconds to say “edamame” didn’t offer any of them much hope.
There was a small delay in the acceptance of his answer. While his timer did halt and turn green after another second or two, it was obvious his response was right on the border of satisfactory. Groaning at having to come up with a second meal beginning with ‘E’, Nino struggled to think of anything. Considering most of his meals consisted of similar convenience store delicacies to what they’d been consuming since arriving in this world, this category was proving to be more of a challenge than he wanted to admit. He wasn’t the most gourmet of people; on the contrary, he had a very weak stomach. He rarely cooked for himself and when he ate out, he always ordered the same thing. Even the meals his mother made for him were simple and predictable, and none of them started with an ‘E’.
As his time limit crossed the halfway mark, he desperately wracked his mind for something cohesive to answer with. He recalled his visits to Aiba’s family restaurant and the times he made Ohno buy him dinner after baseball practice. Still no suitable dish names were jumping to mind. It was then he remembered when Sho treated him to lunch at a classy French restaurant a couple of years back. He remembered the tasty dish he ate on that occasion, the rich yet tangy sauce and the way the succulent yolks flowed over his plate when he cut into the perfectly poached eggs.
“Eggs…benedict,” he said, pausing momentarily as he tried to recall the exact pronunciation of the western dish.
He squinted down at his phone, barely daring to look as he waited anxiously for judgement of his answer to be passed. That occasion years ago was the first and only time he’d eaten the dish, so he could only hope he’d gotten the name right.
Awarded with a satisfactory ruling in spite of his uncertainty, the task of continuing the fast-paced stream of meal names moved on to the next player. Ueda took a couple of seconds to narrow down his choices. Deciding to take inspiration from Nino’s choice of western meals, the other players were surprised by his oddly feminine answer of “tiramisu”. They didn’t dwell on it for long, however, as Ohno brought their round to a speedy conclusion.
“Udon,” he answered with much more conviction than the previous round.
His stopped timer lit up green and their cuisine-themed word challenge came to an end. Pleased to have survived their second category with no more fatalities, they were given confidence that they could make it through the rest of the rounds without any further slipups.
It was a confidence that was soon lost as the category of ‘essential items’ proved to be more of a challenge than the players initially thought. There was a philosophical element to the third round that none of them were prepared for as they were left to question exactly what constituted an item as being ‘essential’.
“In what context?” Sho dared to ask, despite knowing he was unlikely to get an answer. “Do they mean essential things in this world or in our world?”
“What’s essential to one person mightn’t be essential to another,” Ueda agreed.
“So are we meant to answer personally or objectively?”
Their questions were left up in the air as the round kicked off. With the starting word of “mask” offering them no further clarification to their queries, even Ogura noticeably hesitated when coming up with an answer.
“Keys,” he said after a while, his face revealed how unsatisfied he was with his answer.
Despite his discontent, the game accepted it as a suitable response after a second of hesitation and moved on to Aiba. His mind was racing and yet was blank at the same time as he struggled to think of items beginning with ‘S’ that one might consider essential. The young man scratched his head in doubt. Feeling the oily texture of his unwashed hair, he was inspired.
“Shampoo?” he said, sounding more like a question than an answer. It was only after he spoke that he realised there were more obvious answers he could have given, like shoes or even sunlight. His heart began to race with dread as he waited to see if his item would be acceptable.
It was, though not without another few seconds of deliberation. The tension was heavy in the air as the players sensed they were pushing their luck. Sho considered his options for a moment before saying, “oxygen”. He easily held more confidence than either of the players before him. He felt it was by far the safest word he could have said, knowing that oxygen was by its very nature essential to every living thing. His logic was rewarded with fast triumph that was unwavering in its delivery.
Although Sho was able to provide his strong answer with ease, Takeyama was not so fortunate as the starting letter it left him with threw him into the deep end of confusion. He struggled greatly to think of any item beginning with ‘N’, much less an essential one. He rattled off a couple of different items-everything from nail clippers to nightlight, nasal spray to necktie. Each one was met with his timer flashing red instead of green. While he attempted to find an appropriate answer right until the final moment, none were found to be satisfactory by the game master, as evidenced by his chair immediately dropping through the floor the instant he hit fifteen seconds. When his body came to an abrupt halt halfway through the floor, his glasses were flung from his face and went skittering across the floor. Nino shuddered when they landed right by his shoe. The left lens was chipped from the impact despite them landing upright. A choked gurgle sounded from their owner’s bluing lips as he took his final breath.
Disturbed, Nino cautiously swept the eyewear aside with his foot as he thought hard to find the answer the other man missed. There weren’t many things that immediately jumped to mind, especially ones that could be considered ‘essential’, and he couldn’t help the way his brain echoed the same ridiculous answers he just heard. But he refused to simply give up and die as Takeyama had.
Following Sho’s lead of focusing on the ‘necessary for life’ implication of the category rather than personal convenience, he decided to risk giving an answer that was outside the box of ordinary thinking.
“Nebuliser,” he declared, remembering the one Jun used to have back in their school days.
Ignoring the irony, he held his breath as he waited to see if the answer would be accepted or not. His timer neither turned red nor green for the first moment, almost as if whoever was running the game was contemplating whether or not something as specialised albeit life-preserving as a nebuliser would indeed pass in the category of essential items. The weight of the noose around his neck had never felt quite so heavy as it did in those few seconds.
It was with much relief that he watched his countdown turn bright green just short of eleven seconds in. He ran his hands over his face and sighed. He sagged back against his chair, taking care not to lean too far back lest he strangle himself. He almost didn’t bother listening to the rest of the round, too relieved to have passed the third stage without consequence. He wanted to feel sorry for Takeyama and Okubo but instead, he felt only reassured by their deaths. Without the two troublesome players causing problems for him with their chaotic answers, he was ready to believe the final round would be a piece of cake. That is until he remembered who he was now following.
Glancing to his left, he spied where Sho sat on the other side of the hung pair. The latter narrowed his eyes on his companion when he noticed him staring, his expression unreadable. Suddenly, Nino felt his nerve waver. He tried to tell himself that Sho wouldn’t deliberately give an answer that would set him up to fail but after witnessing what he did in their last challenge-whether Sho was willing to admit it or not-Nino knew he couldn’t trust him not to do just that.
With Ueda and Ohno’s respective answers of “rice” and “emergency kit” bringing the third round to a neat conclusion, the final game of shiritori began before they realised it. The light of the projector drifted down to the last category of ‘things that instil fear’. As the last starting word-ghost-was revealed, Ogura took his time to contemplate potential responses.
“Tarot,” he said eventually. There was something about the way his voice shook slightly and the distant look in his eyes as he said it that assured the other players there was indeed a personal fear connected to the divination cards he chose as his answer.
Aiba hesitated a lot, his brows furrowing deeply as he tried to come up with an answer. When his friends heard him talking to himself softly under his breath, contemplating with much difficulty what frightening things started with ‘O’, they exchanged panicked looks.
“Tarot ends with a ‘T’,” Sho whispered to him.
Aiba looked at him, even more confused. Sho didn’t say anything else, scared that his assistance would classify as cheating despite the rules never outright stating they couldn’t help each other. Instead, he gave him an insistent nod. Aiba still looked doubtful but decided to trust him regardless. He raced to think of an answer now that he had the right letter to work with.
Casting a side-glance at the dead bodies, he said the first thing that came to mind, grateful it was indeed something harrowing. “Tomb.”
Sho took a couple of extra seconds to contemplate a suitable answer with the starting letter given to him. It was getting increasingly hard to concentrate with the noose around his throat. Despite knowing it was all in his head, it felt like it was getting tighter with every passing minute; he could have sworn the floorboards beneath his feet were trembling, ready to give way any second now. With the rope rubbing against the scars left by the shock collar from their last game, he strained his neck a little before preparing to answer.
“Bomb,” he choked out. An involuntary shudder ran through his body at the thought of what could have happened had they failed even one more task. It was an image that had haunted him since that night two weeks ago.
His time ceased with a green light and the round passed to Nino.
“Betrayal,” he answered before he could stop himself.
He was not two seconds into his fifteen second limit and a part of him knew he should have taken his time to think through his answer a bit more, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t miss the way his friends glanced at him, their expressions taut with discomfort. Despite the way his heart thundered with the unknown of whether his concept answer would be deemed satisfactory, he still cast a glare at Sho beside him.
“It’s truly frightening, isn’t it Sho-chan?” The sharpness of his tone as he asked his rhetoric question was blatantly obvious.
Though he held his gaze firm, Sho’s throat twitched uncomfortably. Neither he nor Nino said anything further; they didn’t have to. The looks on both their faces when their eyes met said enough.
Nino’s countdown continued to decrease without changing colour. It took nearly ten full seconds for a verdict to be made over the validity his answer. The eventual green light of his stopped timer did little to ease the awkwardness in the room.
For the first time that night, Ueda stumbled over his answer. Nino didn’t doubt for a second it was due to the tension from him and his friends. Fortunately for the other player, he was able to shake off his distraction before his fifteen seconds were up.
“L-Lion,” he said with a slight stammer, his distracted gaze continuously being pulled back towards Nino and especially Sho.
“Nightmare,” Ohno murmured straight away while looking morosely at his friends. The animosity that hung in the air was undeniable and confirmed their fears that while a temporary truce may have been made for the sake of surviving, things were far from right between them.
As their ten minutes came to a conclusion, their phones announced their clearing of the game and their nooses were cut. The ropes fell harmlessly from the ceiling. As the players slipped themselves out of the deadly knot, they were awarded with another four days on their visas. Nino barely even glanced at the new days. He tossed his phone after a second and paced out of the room without a word, making his way down the hall towards the stairs without waiting for his friends.
“Is he alright?” Ogura asked. He looked to the three boys in concern as they stared after him.
Sho didn’t say anything. His gaze was distant and downcast as he walked out of the room. Ohno glanced at the other players briefly before following him, his head low. Aiba remained in the classroom a little longer. His expression twisted in sadness as he watched his companions leave ahead of him. He shook his head, unable to bring himself to look at Ogura.
“No,” he murmured. With a soft sigh, he forced himself into motion, his feet dragging with every step. Under his breath, he whispered, “None of us are.”
---
Nino lay on his back, staring blankly at the dark ceiling above him. The sound of the lasers continued to echo in his subconscious despite the games having long since concluded for the evening. While he knew both his mind and body should have welcomed the opportunity to rest in this downtime between games, he found himself incapable of attaining slumber. His mind was juggling a million things at once and with the threat of his nightmares’ return bearing down on him, he knew rest was an unlikely outcome for him that night.
With sleep continuing to allude him as it had for so many nights now, Nino slinked quietly from his room. He ambled through the dark, aimless. He didn’t even realise he’d arrived at the hotel’s cocktail bar until he looked up and saw the bottles lining the glass cabinet. Pulling one from the shelf, he poured himself a drink and settled down into one of the plush lounge chairs, sipping slowly as he waited to either pass out or for the night to come to an end-whichever came first.
As the seconds ticked on like each one was an eternity, he reached into his pocket to retrieve the ten or so cards in his possession. He shuffled them in his hands, the feel of each one like a lead weight. When he fanned them out, he eyed the six they’d earned themselves nestled amongst those he took from fallen players in their past challenges. As well as Sawabe’s two, he’d stumbled across a couple more at the zoo and hadn’t been able to resist taking them as a precaution. As his gaze moved over each suit, the faces of those lost in the respective games flashed in his mind. He could recall each one with stunning detail despite not knowing most of their names. It saddened him to think how little their deaths seemed to impact him. The only face to truly trigger any emotion from him was that belonging to the five of hearts card. He ran his finger along its edge, shutting his eyes in pained remembrance.
“I thought you weren’t going to obsess over those things anymore.” A familiar voice sounded behind him.
Nino opened his eyes. He put the cards down, his troubled expression quickly disappearing behind the soft smile that graced his lips when the younger walked over to join him.
“I’m not. I haven’t forgotten my promise,” he said honestly and slid the cards over the table towards his friend. He reclined back against his seat, nursing his drink without taking another sip. “Just thinking about things.”
“I think you mean overthinking things,” Jun remarked as he settled into the chair opposite him. “How long has it been since you had a proper night’s sleep?”
Nino shrugged, honestly not knowing the answer himself. Feeling his friend’s concerned gaze burning into him at his lack of response, he set his drink down and attempted to change the subject.
“What are you doing up so late, anyway?”
Jun shot him a weird look. “It’s sunrise.”
Nino frowned at the claim and looked over his shoulder, spying the first light of dawn creeping in through the window behind him. It surprised him to realise he’d actually spent the entire night down there-he had no idea he’d let so much time pass.
“Since when do you get up so early?” he asked. “I thought you weren’t a morning person.”
“I’m not.” Jun smiled wistfully at him. There was something about that distant look that appeared in his gaze that concerned Nino. “I’m not really here, Kazu.”
Nino blinked a few times as he struggled to process his words. His heart was beating rapidly against his chest as he watched Jun’s form begin to fade before his very eyes. He reached out to take his hand in a silent plea for him not to leave, but his fingers met only with air. He blinked again and his friend was gone. His gaze searched the dark emptiness of the bar, hoping that if he closed his eyes again, he would wake from this new dream he’d found himself lost in. He knew in his heart that he wouldn’t but even a figment of his imagination was better than the cruel reality he could bear no longer. A dampness trickled down his cheek as the seconds dragged on and he remained alone.
“Nino?”
Ignoring the tears that streamed freely and silently down his face, Nino looked over his shoulder. He felt a tiny flicker of hope in his heart. For a moment, he was able to fool himself into believing the silhouetted figure behind him belonged to the man he so desperately wanted to see. But the illusion did not last. He soon recognised the person before him was too tall, his voice too different, to possibly be Jun. Disappointment consumed him.
“What are you doing up?” Nino’s voice broke slightly as he fought to contain his grief. He turned back from his friend, curling into himself as his hand clenched around the flower puzzle he had yet to let out of his sight since the younger’s untimely departure.
Aiba’s gaze was hollow as he slumped down into the very chair Nino had envisioned their missing friend occupying. “You think you’re the only one who doesn’t sleep well around here?”
Nino couldn’t bring himself to respond. He knew the others were just as cut up about Jun’s absence as he was but that didn’t make handling his own grief any easier, nor did it ease his conscience over the role he played in him leaving.
“Aren’t you going running?” he asked quietly after another minute. Seeing Aiba looking completely lacklustre, he somehow knew the latter wasn’t planning on moving anytime soon even before he answered.
Aiba shook his head. “It won’t be the same without him.” He sniffled and tucked his legs up to his chest. “Nothing is.”
He meant it. Everything had felt broken these past couple of weeks. Their relationships, their routines; nothing was how it once was. He used to love his daily runs. What started out as a mere way to stretch their legs after an uncomfortable night spent sleeping on the floor quickly turned into a morning habit that christened the new day, strengthened the bond between him and Jun, and left them both feeling invigorated. They enjoyed exploring new areas of the city that had previously gone unnoticed to them and no matter how exhausted they may have gotten by the end of the run, they always had fun together.
A part of him desired to keep up his running, not just for the exercise he’d come to love but on the off chance he encountered Jun while he was out. Nothing would make him happier than running into their friend and proving the others wrong that he was still alive, but he couldn’t bring himself to go. He hadn’t run in well over a fortnight. Every time he so much as thought about going, the reality that he would be jogging alone for the first time became too much to handle. He didn’t want to be reminded that Jun wasn’t by his side anymore and knew that everything he encountered, every familiar sight and sound, would do just that.
But more than the loneliness, he was terrified of stumbling across Jun in another way. The others had told him again and again that their friend was unlikely to survive long on his own; while he wanted to believe they were wrong, if he was to venture outside and happen upon his remains, Aiba knew it would be too traumatic a discovery to live with. Just thinking about him truly being gone was like a knife through his heart.
When his family moved from Chiba a little over seven years ago, Aiba had been both excited and frightened of the new life that awaited him. Being in the big city scared him a little and while he was keen to forge new friendships, he was nervous about making a good impression. Jun was the first person he met when he started at his new school. On his first day, he’d managed to get himself lost on the way to homeroom. As he was trying and failing to get his bearings, another student appeared out of nowhere and approached him.
“You must be new,” he’d said with a smile that showed off his crooked teeth. “I can show you around if you’d like.
He was at least a head shorter than him and despite Aiba knowing he had to have been at least fourteen, he looked much younger. Yet his prompt manner of speaking made up for his small stature. Aiba thought it was amazing how concise he was and appreciated the help he was offering. With an insistent gesture for him to come along, the student started off down the hallway in the opposite direction to where Aiba had thought to go. Aiba scurried after him. He listened intently as the smaller boy gave him detailed directions about the various classrooms, as well as pointers on which sempai to show extra respect towards and certain teachers to avoid getting into trouble with.
Reaching their homeroom, Aiba followed him through the class to where three other students sat near the back of the room. Each of them had a very different aura; one boy was sitting sideways in his seat, his arm strung over the back of his chair while the sunlight pouring through the window caught on the piercing in his ear. He was leading the conversation with another boy, who sat perched on the table beside him. He chatted eagerly with the first boy while at the same time reached forward to tease the student whose desk he was sitting on. He gave the sleepy-faced teen’s ear a series of playful flicks, not that the latter seemed to care in the slightest. He was too busy sketching in his notebook to really pay either of them much attention.
When Aiba and his guide approached, they greeted the smaller boy warmly.
“This is Sakurai-kun, Ohno-kun and Ninomiya-kun,” he introduced his friends to Aiba. “Guys, this is Aiba-kun. He’s new.”
Sho gave Aiba a curt nod of acknowledgement while Nino gave a two-fingered salute, his thin lips quirking in a cocky smile. Ohno looked up briefly from his doodle to say a quick hello before his drawing engrossed him once more.
With a noise of realisation, the shorter boy turned to Aiba and added, “I’m Matsumoto, by the way.”
Aiba grinned amusedly and greeted him in return. He quickly fell into a rhythm of conversation with all four of them as they asked him questions about where he was from and what he liked to do. His smile widened when he watched Nino lean over to continue messing with Ohno as soon as he saw the other’s attention was diverted again. The ease of not just their conversing but the atmosphere between them brought him much relief; it was almost as if he’d known them for years. He had a feeling he was going to like it here after all.
Struggling to hold back his tears at the memory of how they once were, Aiba glanced across the room at where Nino sat looking so small in the sofa chair. He was not at all like the playful boy from his memories. The man in front of him was miserable and broken-looking; there was no light in his eyes or hint of his trademark smirk. Aiba recognised the handheld puzzle that was clutched in his palm. He’d seen it so often these last couple of weeks, what with Nino constantly seeming to have it on his person. Despite Jun not telling him about it, Aiba quickly connected the dots about what he took from Hankyu that day. At the time, he thought it was adorable that he’d gifted the game to their bored friend. Looking at it now though made his heart ache.
His gaze moved from the puzzle to the silver chain he could see peeking through the gap in Nino’s shirt collar. He stared at the accessory curiously. It was one he had seen so many times before, though never on Nino.
“Isn’t that Jun’s necklace?”
Nino’s hand unconsciously reached up to fondle the chain. “I found it the other night in the lobby. We used it to confirm our hotel was an arena and I guess J never picked it back up.”
“It’s good that you’re keeping it safe for him,” said Aiba. “It was his favourite. He’ll definitely want it back if he returns. When he returns.”
He didn’t miss the way Nino’s expression contorted in discomfort when he corrected himself. Aiba’s gaze became downcast.
“Do you really think he’s dead?”
The way he looked at Nino so vulnerably, without so much as trying to hide any of his emotions, had Nino hesitating over what to say. He wanted to tell him that Jun would be okay, and more so wanted to believe it himself. But he couldn’t ignore the dread in his heart whenever he thought about their friend being out there alone.
“I honestly don’t know,” he said. “I want him to be okay more than anything, but…”
“You don’t want to give yourself false hope,” Aiba concluded, to which Nino nodded sadly. “But how do you know it’s false hope and not just…hope?”
“Maybe you can afford the luxury of blindly believing, but I can’t,” Nino admitted. “It’s too painful. I still imagine him being here and it feels so right. But then like waking from a dream, he disappears again and I know this is real. He’s gone. Even though I can’t stand the idea of him not being out there somewhere, it’s driving me crazy not having him here with us.” He shut his eyes with an agonised wince, his voice dropping to a broken whisper. “It’s just easier to tell myself that he’s dead than to torture myself every waking moment imagining what hell he must be going through.”
Tears pricked at Aiba’s eyes as he listened to his friend’s confession. It wasn’t anything he didn’t already know, especially after walking in on him earlier and hearing him talking to himself. And it wasn’t like he didn’t understand how it felt. He hadn’t lied when he told Nino he wasn’t sleeping well either-how could he when his dreams were filled with Jun? They weren’t nightmares like what his friend suffered; on the contrary, they were pleasant, simple dreams of them all together. Sometimes they were real memories, others were visions of his own making. But real or not, it was losing their younger every time he roused that was painful in ways he’d never known before.
He understood Nino’s desire for closure but no matter how much agony he felt at not knowing Jun’s fate, he couldn’t bring himself to give up hope. He refused to let go of whatever small chance remained that their youngest was out there somewhere, fighting hard to get back to them. And until the day he drew his last breath, Aiba was determined to do whatever it took to keep the rest of his friends united in anticipation of his return.
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: For the record, diamonds games are really hard to write.
Two weeks passed by before any of them were ready. It had been exhaustingly long and yet seemed to go by in the blink of an eye. After having their hotel transformed into an arena, the boys had discussed the notion of moving elsewhere. They knew it was the smartest thing to do, especially if Nino’s assertion was right and the five of hearts really was designed especially for them. None of them wanted to risk becoming targets of the game master’s special kind of cruelty again, and yet they remained torn over what to do. Arguments were made for both sides. They were settled where they were, but there could be so many more games elsewhere in the city. They felt like sitting ducks, yet they had invested so much time creating a home out of their hotel and moving their greenhouse and generator would be no small feat. The reminders of the friend they’d lost were everywhere they looked; it was painful beyond reason and was more than enough motivation for all of them to want to start fresh somewhere else. But none of them could bring themselves to leave lest Jun someday try and return. They never outright mentioned it, but Nino knew it was this reason alone that they chose to remain.
Despite them staying put, there had still been no sign of Jun anywhere. As the days came and went, their hope that he would return to them began to fade. Even Aiba’s optimism was starting to wear thin as they all came to the discouraging realisation that he was not coming back. Coming to terms with this did little to ease the already high tensions between them. Conflicts were becoming more of a common occurrence as they fought to assign blame. The fractures of their friendship grew deeper as they found themselves constantly at one another’s throats, and it was with great struggle that they managed to make it through each day unscathed.
Nino felt it was a fair assumption to say it was really only because of Aiba that their relationships hadn’t fallen apart entirely. After his misplaced outburst at his doe-eyed friend several days earlier, he’d felt terribly guilty and made a conscious effort to control his emotions better. Aiba was probably the only one among them that didn’t hold any blame in Jun leaving, and the rest of them all knew it. He’d begged them on more than one occasion to stop fighting with each other, claiming if they were to have any chance at surviving, they needed to stay united even if their youngest was not there. It wasn’t an easy ask but for their beloved airhead, they would try. Nino forced aside his animosity towards Ohno and especially Sho in order to abide by Aiba’s request.
It was with much reluctance that they followed the signage to a new arena that night. Playing was the last thing they wanted to do; the fear their last game instilled in them was as strong as ever and with the damaged trust between them, they held little hope that they would be able to cope well in any challenge thrown at them tonight. But with no time left on their visa, they were given no choice but to push past their reservations and pray they would somehow make it through to see another sunrise.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Sho muttered as they stood staring up at the entrance of their old high school.
With the exception of the illuminated signs letting all players in the vicinity know that it had been transformed into an arena, it hadn’t changed. Everything looked the same-from the bronze insignia engraved on the columns at the entrance to the slightly crooked railing along the roof of the east-wing building. It was just like when they were students. The only thing missing was their uniforms, and their old classmate. Nino glanced fleetingly over his shoulder, half expecting Jun to come sauntering around the corner as fashionably tardy as he used to be in their school days. Seeing the ache in his friends’ eyes beside him, he knew they were all thinking the same thing despite not one of them bringing it up.
“We don’t have time to find a different arena,” said Ohno, sensing the discomfort of those alongside him as they stalled at the gateway. “It’s here or nowhere.”
The boys looked warily at the school, then to one another. Knowing the elder was right, they sighed.
“Looks like we’re going back to school then,” Nino said dryly.
Passing through the arena’s border, they entered the school grounds and made their way towards the main building. They ascended the stairs to one of the third-storey classrooms. It was there they discovered four more players. Almost everyone there was easily middle-aged. They made introductions promptly, not that the boys were feeling particularly sociable that evening. There was a woman with a rather sleepy-looking right eye; she introduced herself as Okubo. Beside her were two men, the bespectacled Takeyama and Ogura, who possessed a fatherly aura. The latter looked as though he wouldn’t have been out of place teaching in their school.
The fourth player looked to be only a high school student himself, and a delinquent one at that. With piercings in his ears, sharp features and dyed hair coiffed to spiky perfection, Ueda gave off a somewhat intimidating aura. He reminded Nino of the way Sho was during their high school years, so it was no surprise when he saw the two of them hitting it off as they waited for the countdown to conclude.
Tuning out Okubo’s incessant attempts to engage him in conversation, Nino turned his attention to the companions he came with. He expected Aiba to be just as friendly as he always was with the other players, so was taken aback by the way he was ignoring them completely. When he noticed the taller guy looking around with barely concealed anticipation, Nino sighed.
“He’s not going to show up.”
“You don’t know that for sure,” Aiba protested. “He has to earn visa days too, just like the rest of us. There’s every chance he could come.”
Nino rubbed his temple tiredly. “The odds of us encountering him by chance are like a million to one. If he’s still out there, he’s had two weeks to travel as far from this area as he pleases. Besides, I highly doubt he’d wait until his last day to play his next game.”
Aiba looked disappointed, choosing not to reply as his logic struck a nerve. Nino felt bad for having to break the news to him that their lost friend would not be joining them tonight, but he knew someone had to. If they were going to stand a chance at focusing on whatever game they would play tonight, they needed to make their peace with Jun’s absence once and for all.
Nino’s gaze swept over the classroom. At first glance, the layout didn’t appear much different to the days they used to frequent these halls. The tables were evenly spaced in rows throughout the room and were facing the blackboard. Written across the board were four dot points of no apparent connection:
- Foreign countries
- Meals
- Essential items
- Things that instil fear
“The game: Tongue-Twisted,” the AI announced. “Difficulty: Four of Diamonds.”
“At least with a diamonds game, your arm shouldn’t be much trouble,” Sho said, looking to Ohno’s sling-bound shoulder.
The elder nodded, grateful that there would be nothing too physical demanded of him from the looks of it. When their phones instructed them to choose a desk and take their seat, he walked calmly over to one of the tables nearest to the door. The others followed suit, spreading out around the room to find a desk they were comfortable with. Once everyone was seated, the rules of the challenge were explained to them.
“Moving from left to right of the room, players will play a game of shiritori based on the category prompts on the blackboard,” their phones said. “Time limit: Players will have fifteen seconds each to give a satisfactory answer. Those who survive ten minutes will clear the game.”
As soon as the rules were finished, eight ropes dropped from the ceiling above them, dangling at a perfect height for each player. It answered the question all of them were wondering about what would happen should they fumble or miss a round. With much apprehension, they slipped the nooses around their necks and prayed they would be able to think clearly.
The projector at the back of the room switched itself on and a spotlight appeared on the blackboard right next to the first category. It revealed the hidden starting word. Brazil.
Based on the geography of their chosen seats, Ogura was first. His fifteen seconds began immediately, the loud ticks of the passing seconds sounding in perfect synchronisation with the seven other phones in the room to add to the already intense pressure. But despite the added stress of the ticking timebomb, Ogura remained amazingly composed as he delivered his answer of “Libya”.
The colour of his personal countdown changed from black to green as it stopped, indicating his success. At the same time, Aiba’s countdown began. It was fair to say he was not nearly as calm as his predecessor. He was mouthing words to himself, as if running every possible country in his mind before realising his fellow player’s answer gave him ample options to choose from.
“Australia,” he said after an agonisingly long eight seconds.
“Afghanistan,” Sho answered soon after, almost as calmly as Ogura.
His country of choice was clearly not what Takeyama beside him was expecting to hear. The man looked thrown for a loop as he struggled to figure out which countries began with the letter ‘N’. It was with only three seconds left on the timer that he finally spoke.
“N-Norway,” he said somewhat doubtfully.
His answer, though accepted as satisfactory much to his own relief, only proved to cause the next player much torment. Okubo’s expression did little to hide her panic. Her eyes widened, her sleepy quality lost as she tried her hardest to come up with a country in keeping with the tricky criterion thrust upon her. The more the seconds ticked by, the more distressed she became, even to the point of claiming there were no countries available for her to select. She turned to Takeyama in anger.
“Idiot! Why did you have to say Norway?” she seethed. “You’ve doomed me!” She gestured to those on her right. “You’ve doomed us all!”
Takeyama flinched at her anger, his attempts at an apology lost beneath her chaotic rattling. Her last five seconds were spent yelling at someone unseen when she tried to make her case that it was unfair and the previous answer should have been a disqualification since it gave no chance for future answers to follow. Her complaints fell to none. When her timer ran out completely, her agitation silenced at once and she let out a soft whimper. She looked around at the others, frightened. Then the floor beneath her opened. She couldn’t even scream as both she and her chair fell through the dark hole. The noose tightened around her neck and almost as fast as she fell, the rope snagged, bringing her body to a sudden and fatal halt. As the distant clatter of the chair hitting the lower storey sounded, a suffocated gasp was the only noise to escape her as she met her demise.
There was no time to process her death as Nino was called on for his turn. His brain worked overtime to find the answer Okubo missed. He knew there had to be at least one acceptable answer or else Takeyama would have been the one to die, just as Okubo claimed. Having witnessed his fate should he fail, he was determined to get it right. He thought back to his school days and began to seriously regret skipping so many geography classes with his friends; he could only hope something sunk in from the times he did attend. It was with less than five seconds remaining that he struck his epiphany.
“Yemen,” he called out loudly, repeating it a few times for good measure.
His success was rewarded instantly and silently, the green glow of his stopped timer staring up at him from his phone. The game continued down the line without delay. Nino couldn’t help feeling discouraged. Even though he got it right, it felt as though his hard work hadn’t mattered in the least as he watched Ueda answer next.
“Netherlands,” he said after only a couple of seconds.
With but one player remaining, everyone looked to Ohno expectantly. His friends wanted to relax knowing there were plenty of easy answers he could give but from the hesitation painted on his face, they immediately knew things were not that simple. Perhaps it was the death they’d just witnessed, or the pressure of going last. Or maybe there were simply too many possibilities for him to think clearly. Whatever the reason for his uncertainty, his friends remained tense right up until the moment he answered.
“Sudan,” he said eventually with a slight stammer. His face scrunched up a second later as he pondered whether that was even a place, let alone a country. He looked more than surprised when his timer turned green with success. Despite feeling relieved that he’d given an acceptable answer, his fellow players couldn’t help wondering why he’d chosen such an atypical answer out of all possible countries starting with ‘S’.
With the first round complete, the players were offered a minute respite. Little rest was achieved in the short interval, however, especially with the way Okubo’s corpse continued to dangle between them. Nino tried not to look at her-the disturbing angle of her broken neck was distracting to say the very least but having her so close to him was certainly not doing anything to calm his already shot nerves. He did what he could to focus on the upcoming second round, studying the remaining categories on the board in an attempt to prepare his answers in advance. It did little good, however. He could not even begin to guess what the starting words would be, much less what answers to expect from the four players on his left. If their last round proved anything, it was that predictable answers were not on the cards in this game.
Three minutes into the game, the projector whirred as the spotlight drifted down the blackboard a couple of centimetres. The starting word for the second category-meals-was revealed: Steak. Like the previous round, Ogura was first to answer.
“Kimchi.” Just like last time, his response was delivered quickly and with calm confidence. His composure and quick thinking had Nino curious whether the man really could have been a teacher of sorts in their world, or if he was just very well-travelled. He certainly looked the type.
“Ice cream,” Aiba answered barely two seconds into his time. He said it with a beaming smile while bouncing excitably in his chair. His thrill at having come up with something so quickly made him almost seem like a child experiencing a sugar rush.
Sho smiled at him before giving his own answer of “minestrone”.
While his friends may have been enjoying themselves in this round, Nino was beginning to regret his choice of desk, especially now that he found himself succeeding the clearly flustered Takeyama. He hoped the man would be more forward-thinking with his answers from now on, though the fact that he took all of ten seconds to say “edamame” didn’t offer any of them much hope.
There was a small delay in the acceptance of his answer. While his timer did halt and turn green after another second or two, it was obvious his response was right on the border of satisfactory. Groaning at having to come up with a second meal beginning with ‘E’, Nino struggled to think of anything. Considering most of his meals consisted of similar convenience store delicacies to what they’d been consuming since arriving in this world, this category was proving to be more of a challenge than he wanted to admit. He wasn’t the most gourmet of people; on the contrary, he had a very weak stomach. He rarely cooked for himself and when he ate out, he always ordered the same thing. Even the meals his mother made for him were simple and predictable, and none of them started with an ‘E’.
As his time limit crossed the halfway mark, he desperately wracked his mind for something cohesive to answer with. He recalled his visits to Aiba’s family restaurant and the times he made Ohno buy him dinner after baseball practice. Still no suitable dish names were jumping to mind. It was then he remembered when Sho treated him to lunch at a classy French restaurant a couple of years back. He remembered the tasty dish he ate on that occasion, the rich yet tangy sauce and the way the succulent yolks flowed over his plate when he cut into the perfectly poached eggs.
“Eggs…benedict,” he said, pausing momentarily as he tried to recall the exact pronunciation of the western dish.
He squinted down at his phone, barely daring to look as he waited anxiously for judgement of his answer to be passed. That occasion years ago was the first and only time he’d eaten the dish, so he could only hope he’d gotten the name right.
Awarded with a satisfactory ruling in spite of his uncertainty, the task of continuing the fast-paced stream of meal names moved on to the next player. Ueda took a couple of seconds to narrow down his choices. Deciding to take inspiration from Nino’s choice of western meals, the other players were surprised by his oddly feminine answer of “tiramisu”. They didn’t dwell on it for long, however, as Ohno brought their round to a speedy conclusion.
“Udon,” he answered with much more conviction than the previous round.
His stopped timer lit up green and their cuisine-themed word challenge came to an end. Pleased to have survived their second category with no more fatalities, they were given confidence that they could make it through the rest of the rounds without any further slipups.
It was a confidence that was soon lost as the category of ‘essential items’ proved to be more of a challenge than the players initially thought. There was a philosophical element to the third round that none of them were prepared for as they were left to question exactly what constituted an item as being ‘essential’.
“In what context?” Sho dared to ask, despite knowing he was unlikely to get an answer. “Do they mean essential things in this world or in our world?”
“What’s essential to one person mightn’t be essential to another,” Ueda agreed.
“So are we meant to answer personally or objectively?”
Their questions were left up in the air as the round kicked off. With the starting word of “mask” offering them no further clarification to their queries, even Ogura noticeably hesitated when coming up with an answer.
“Keys,” he said after a while, his face revealed how unsatisfied he was with his answer.
Despite his discontent, the game accepted it as a suitable response after a second of hesitation and moved on to Aiba. His mind was racing and yet was blank at the same time as he struggled to think of items beginning with ‘S’ that one might consider essential. The young man scratched his head in doubt. Feeling the oily texture of his unwashed hair, he was inspired.
“Shampoo?” he said, sounding more like a question than an answer. It was only after he spoke that he realised there were more obvious answers he could have given, like shoes or even sunlight. His heart began to race with dread as he waited to see if his item would be acceptable.
It was, though not without another few seconds of deliberation. The tension was heavy in the air as the players sensed they were pushing their luck. Sho considered his options for a moment before saying, “oxygen”. He easily held more confidence than either of the players before him. He felt it was by far the safest word he could have said, knowing that oxygen was by its very nature essential to every living thing. His logic was rewarded with fast triumph that was unwavering in its delivery.
Although Sho was able to provide his strong answer with ease, Takeyama was not so fortunate as the starting letter it left him with threw him into the deep end of confusion. He struggled greatly to think of any item beginning with ‘N’, much less an essential one. He rattled off a couple of different items-everything from nail clippers to nightlight, nasal spray to necktie. Each one was met with his timer flashing red instead of green. While he attempted to find an appropriate answer right until the final moment, none were found to be satisfactory by the game master, as evidenced by his chair immediately dropping through the floor the instant he hit fifteen seconds. When his body came to an abrupt halt halfway through the floor, his glasses were flung from his face and went skittering across the floor. Nino shuddered when they landed right by his shoe. The left lens was chipped from the impact despite them landing upright. A choked gurgle sounded from their owner’s bluing lips as he took his final breath.
Disturbed, Nino cautiously swept the eyewear aside with his foot as he thought hard to find the answer the other man missed. There weren’t many things that immediately jumped to mind, especially ones that could be considered ‘essential’, and he couldn’t help the way his brain echoed the same ridiculous answers he just heard. But he refused to simply give up and die as Takeyama had.
Following Sho’s lead of focusing on the ‘necessary for life’ implication of the category rather than personal convenience, he decided to risk giving an answer that was outside the box of ordinary thinking.
“Nebuliser,” he declared, remembering the one Jun used to have back in their school days.
Ignoring the irony, he held his breath as he waited to see if the answer would be accepted or not. His timer neither turned red nor green for the first moment, almost as if whoever was running the game was contemplating whether or not something as specialised albeit life-preserving as a nebuliser would indeed pass in the category of essential items. The weight of the noose around his neck had never felt quite so heavy as it did in those few seconds.
It was with much relief that he watched his countdown turn bright green just short of eleven seconds in. He ran his hands over his face and sighed. He sagged back against his chair, taking care not to lean too far back lest he strangle himself. He almost didn’t bother listening to the rest of the round, too relieved to have passed the third stage without consequence. He wanted to feel sorry for Takeyama and Okubo but instead, he felt only reassured by their deaths. Without the two troublesome players causing problems for him with their chaotic answers, he was ready to believe the final round would be a piece of cake. That is until he remembered who he was now following.
Glancing to his left, he spied where Sho sat on the other side of the hung pair. The latter narrowed his eyes on his companion when he noticed him staring, his expression unreadable. Suddenly, Nino felt his nerve waver. He tried to tell himself that Sho wouldn’t deliberately give an answer that would set him up to fail but after witnessing what he did in their last challenge-whether Sho was willing to admit it or not-Nino knew he couldn’t trust him not to do just that.
With Ueda and Ohno’s respective answers of “rice” and “emergency kit” bringing the third round to a neat conclusion, the final game of shiritori began before they realised it. The light of the projector drifted down to the last category of ‘things that instil fear’. As the last starting word-ghost-was revealed, Ogura took his time to contemplate potential responses.
“Tarot,” he said eventually. There was something about the way his voice shook slightly and the distant look in his eyes as he said it that assured the other players there was indeed a personal fear connected to the divination cards he chose as his answer.
Aiba hesitated a lot, his brows furrowing deeply as he tried to come up with an answer. When his friends heard him talking to himself softly under his breath, contemplating with much difficulty what frightening things started with ‘O’, they exchanged panicked looks.
“Tarot ends with a ‘T’,” Sho whispered to him.
Aiba looked at him, even more confused. Sho didn’t say anything else, scared that his assistance would classify as cheating despite the rules never outright stating they couldn’t help each other. Instead, he gave him an insistent nod. Aiba still looked doubtful but decided to trust him regardless. He raced to think of an answer now that he had the right letter to work with.
Casting a side-glance at the dead bodies, he said the first thing that came to mind, grateful it was indeed something harrowing. “Tomb.”
Sho took a couple of extra seconds to contemplate a suitable answer with the starting letter given to him. It was getting increasingly hard to concentrate with the noose around his throat. Despite knowing it was all in his head, it felt like it was getting tighter with every passing minute; he could have sworn the floorboards beneath his feet were trembling, ready to give way any second now. With the rope rubbing against the scars left by the shock collar from their last game, he strained his neck a little before preparing to answer.
“Bomb,” he choked out. An involuntary shudder ran through his body at the thought of what could have happened had they failed even one more task. It was an image that had haunted him since that night two weeks ago.
His time ceased with a green light and the round passed to Nino.
“Betrayal,” he answered before he could stop himself.
He was not two seconds into his fifteen second limit and a part of him knew he should have taken his time to think through his answer a bit more, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t miss the way his friends glanced at him, their expressions taut with discomfort. Despite the way his heart thundered with the unknown of whether his concept answer would be deemed satisfactory, he still cast a glare at Sho beside him.
“It’s truly frightening, isn’t it Sho-chan?” The sharpness of his tone as he asked his rhetoric question was blatantly obvious.
Though he held his gaze firm, Sho’s throat twitched uncomfortably. Neither he nor Nino said anything further; they didn’t have to. The looks on both their faces when their eyes met said enough.
Nino’s countdown continued to decrease without changing colour. It took nearly ten full seconds for a verdict to be made over the validity his answer. The eventual green light of his stopped timer did little to ease the awkwardness in the room.
For the first time that night, Ueda stumbled over his answer. Nino didn’t doubt for a second it was due to the tension from him and his friends. Fortunately for the other player, he was able to shake off his distraction before his fifteen seconds were up.
“L-Lion,” he said with a slight stammer, his distracted gaze continuously being pulled back towards Nino and especially Sho.
“Nightmare,” Ohno murmured straight away while looking morosely at his friends. The animosity that hung in the air was undeniable and confirmed their fears that while a temporary truce may have been made for the sake of surviving, things were far from right between them.
As their ten minutes came to a conclusion, their phones announced their clearing of the game and their nooses were cut. The ropes fell harmlessly from the ceiling. As the players slipped themselves out of the deadly knot, they were awarded with another four days on their visas. Nino barely even glanced at the new days. He tossed his phone after a second and paced out of the room without a word, making his way down the hall towards the stairs without waiting for his friends.
“Is he alright?” Ogura asked. He looked to the three boys in concern as they stared after him.
Sho didn’t say anything. His gaze was distant and downcast as he walked out of the room. Ohno glanced at the other players briefly before following him, his head low. Aiba remained in the classroom a little longer. His expression twisted in sadness as he watched his companions leave ahead of him. He shook his head, unable to bring himself to look at Ogura.
“No,” he murmured. With a soft sigh, he forced himself into motion, his feet dragging with every step. Under his breath, he whispered, “None of us are.”
---
Nino lay on his back, staring blankly at the dark ceiling above him. The sound of the lasers continued to echo in his subconscious despite the games having long since concluded for the evening. While he knew both his mind and body should have welcomed the opportunity to rest in this downtime between games, he found himself incapable of attaining slumber. His mind was juggling a million things at once and with the threat of his nightmares’ return bearing down on him, he knew rest was an unlikely outcome for him that night.
With sleep continuing to allude him as it had for so many nights now, Nino slinked quietly from his room. He ambled through the dark, aimless. He didn’t even realise he’d arrived at the hotel’s cocktail bar until he looked up and saw the bottles lining the glass cabinet. Pulling one from the shelf, he poured himself a drink and settled down into one of the plush lounge chairs, sipping slowly as he waited to either pass out or for the night to come to an end-whichever came first.
As the seconds ticked on like each one was an eternity, he reached into his pocket to retrieve the ten or so cards in his possession. He shuffled them in his hands, the feel of each one like a lead weight. When he fanned them out, he eyed the six they’d earned themselves nestled amongst those he took from fallen players in their past challenges. As well as Sawabe’s two, he’d stumbled across a couple more at the zoo and hadn’t been able to resist taking them as a precaution. As his gaze moved over each suit, the faces of those lost in the respective games flashed in his mind. He could recall each one with stunning detail despite not knowing most of their names. It saddened him to think how little their deaths seemed to impact him. The only face to truly trigger any emotion from him was that belonging to the five of hearts card. He ran his finger along its edge, shutting his eyes in pained remembrance.
“I thought you weren’t going to obsess over those things anymore.” A familiar voice sounded behind him.
Nino opened his eyes. He put the cards down, his troubled expression quickly disappearing behind the soft smile that graced his lips when the younger walked over to join him.
“I’m not. I haven’t forgotten my promise,” he said honestly and slid the cards over the table towards his friend. He reclined back against his seat, nursing his drink without taking another sip. “Just thinking about things.”
“I think you mean overthinking things,” Jun remarked as he settled into the chair opposite him. “How long has it been since you had a proper night’s sleep?”
Nino shrugged, honestly not knowing the answer himself. Feeling his friend’s concerned gaze burning into him at his lack of response, he set his drink down and attempted to change the subject.
“What are you doing up so late, anyway?”
Jun shot him a weird look. “It’s sunrise.”
Nino frowned at the claim and looked over his shoulder, spying the first light of dawn creeping in through the window behind him. It surprised him to realise he’d actually spent the entire night down there-he had no idea he’d let so much time pass.
“Since when do you get up so early?” he asked. “I thought you weren’t a morning person.”
“I’m not.” Jun smiled wistfully at him. There was something about that distant look that appeared in his gaze that concerned Nino. “I’m not really here, Kazu.”
Nino blinked a few times as he struggled to process his words. His heart was beating rapidly against his chest as he watched Jun’s form begin to fade before his very eyes. He reached out to take his hand in a silent plea for him not to leave, but his fingers met only with air. He blinked again and his friend was gone. His gaze searched the dark emptiness of the bar, hoping that if he closed his eyes again, he would wake from this new dream he’d found himself lost in. He knew in his heart that he wouldn’t but even a figment of his imagination was better than the cruel reality he could bear no longer. A dampness trickled down his cheek as the seconds dragged on and he remained alone.
“Nino?”
Ignoring the tears that streamed freely and silently down his face, Nino looked over his shoulder. He felt a tiny flicker of hope in his heart. For a moment, he was able to fool himself into believing the silhouetted figure behind him belonged to the man he so desperately wanted to see. But the illusion did not last. He soon recognised the person before him was too tall, his voice too different, to possibly be Jun. Disappointment consumed him.
“What are you doing up?” Nino’s voice broke slightly as he fought to contain his grief. He turned back from his friend, curling into himself as his hand clenched around the flower puzzle he had yet to let out of his sight since the younger’s untimely departure.
Aiba’s gaze was hollow as he slumped down into the very chair Nino had envisioned their missing friend occupying. “You think you’re the only one who doesn’t sleep well around here?”
Nino couldn’t bring himself to respond. He knew the others were just as cut up about Jun’s absence as he was but that didn’t make handling his own grief any easier, nor did it ease his conscience over the role he played in him leaving.
“Aren’t you going running?” he asked quietly after another minute. Seeing Aiba looking completely lacklustre, he somehow knew the latter wasn’t planning on moving anytime soon even before he answered.
Aiba shook his head. “It won’t be the same without him.” He sniffled and tucked his legs up to his chest. “Nothing is.”
He meant it. Everything had felt broken these past couple of weeks. Their relationships, their routines; nothing was how it once was. He used to love his daily runs. What started out as a mere way to stretch their legs after an uncomfortable night spent sleeping on the floor quickly turned into a morning habit that christened the new day, strengthened the bond between him and Jun, and left them both feeling invigorated. They enjoyed exploring new areas of the city that had previously gone unnoticed to them and no matter how exhausted they may have gotten by the end of the run, they always had fun together.
A part of him desired to keep up his running, not just for the exercise he’d come to love but on the off chance he encountered Jun while he was out. Nothing would make him happier than running into their friend and proving the others wrong that he was still alive, but he couldn’t bring himself to go. He hadn’t run in well over a fortnight. Every time he so much as thought about going, the reality that he would be jogging alone for the first time became too much to handle. He didn’t want to be reminded that Jun wasn’t by his side anymore and knew that everything he encountered, every familiar sight and sound, would do just that.
But more than the loneliness, he was terrified of stumbling across Jun in another way. The others had told him again and again that their friend was unlikely to survive long on his own; while he wanted to believe they were wrong, if he was to venture outside and happen upon his remains, Aiba knew it would be too traumatic a discovery to live with. Just thinking about him truly being gone was like a knife through his heart.
When his family moved from Chiba a little over seven years ago, Aiba had been both excited and frightened of the new life that awaited him. Being in the big city scared him a little and while he was keen to forge new friendships, he was nervous about making a good impression. Jun was the first person he met when he started at his new school. On his first day, he’d managed to get himself lost on the way to homeroom. As he was trying and failing to get his bearings, another student appeared out of nowhere and approached him.
“You must be new,” he’d said with a smile that showed off his crooked teeth. “I can show you around if you’d like.
He was at least a head shorter than him and despite Aiba knowing he had to have been at least fourteen, he looked much younger. Yet his prompt manner of speaking made up for his small stature. Aiba thought it was amazing how concise he was and appreciated the help he was offering. With an insistent gesture for him to come along, the student started off down the hallway in the opposite direction to where Aiba had thought to go. Aiba scurried after him. He listened intently as the smaller boy gave him detailed directions about the various classrooms, as well as pointers on which sempai to show extra respect towards and certain teachers to avoid getting into trouble with.
Reaching their homeroom, Aiba followed him through the class to where three other students sat near the back of the room. Each of them had a very different aura; one boy was sitting sideways in his seat, his arm strung over the back of his chair while the sunlight pouring through the window caught on the piercing in his ear. He was leading the conversation with another boy, who sat perched on the table beside him. He chatted eagerly with the first boy while at the same time reached forward to tease the student whose desk he was sitting on. He gave the sleepy-faced teen’s ear a series of playful flicks, not that the latter seemed to care in the slightest. He was too busy sketching in his notebook to really pay either of them much attention.
When Aiba and his guide approached, they greeted the smaller boy warmly.
“This is Sakurai-kun, Ohno-kun and Ninomiya-kun,” he introduced his friends to Aiba. “Guys, this is Aiba-kun. He’s new.”
Sho gave Aiba a curt nod of acknowledgement while Nino gave a two-fingered salute, his thin lips quirking in a cocky smile. Ohno looked up briefly from his doodle to say a quick hello before his drawing engrossed him once more.
With a noise of realisation, the shorter boy turned to Aiba and added, “I’m Matsumoto, by the way.”
Aiba grinned amusedly and greeted him in return. He quickly fell into a rhythm of conversation with all four of them as they asked him questions about where he was from and what he liked to do. His smile widened when he watched Nino lean over to continue messing with Ohno as soon as he saw the other’s attention was diverted again. The ease of not just their conversing but the atmosphere between them brought him much relief; it was almost as if he’d known them for years. He had a feeling he was going to like it here after all.
Struggling to hold back his tears at the memory of how they once were, Aiba glanced across the room at where Nino sat looking so small in the sofa chair. He was not at all like the playful boy from his memories. The man in front of him was miserable and broken-looking; there was no light in his eyes or hint of his trademark smirk. Aiba recognised the handheld puzzle that was clutched in his palm. He’d seen it so often these last couple of weeks, what with Nino constantly seeming to have it on his person. Despite Jun not telling him about it, Aiba quickly connected the dots about what he took from Hankyu that day. At the time, he thought it was adorable that he’d gifted the game to their bored friend. Looking at it now though made his heart ache.
His gaze moved from the puzzle to the silver chain he could see peeking through the gap in Nino’s shirt collar. He stared at the accessory curiously. It was one he had seen so many times before, though never on Nino.
“Isn’t that Jun’s necklace?”
Nino’s hand unconsciously reached up to fondle the chain. “I found it the other night in the lobby. We used it to confirm our hotel was an arena and I guess J never picked it back up.”
“It’s good that you’re keeping it safe for him,” said Aiba. “It was his favourite. He’ll definitely want it back if he returns. When he returns.”
He didn’t miss the way Nino’s expression contorted in discomfort when he corrected himself. Aiba’s gaze became downcast.
“Do you really think he’s dead?”
The way he looked at Nino so vulnerably, without so much as trying to hide any of his emotions, had Nino hesitating over what to say. He wanted to tell him that Jun would be okay, and more so wanted to believe it himself. But he couldn’t ignore the dread in his heart whenever he thought about their friend being out there alone.
“I honestly don’t know,” he said. “I want him to be okay more than anything, but…”
“You don’t want to give yourself false hope,” Aiba concluded, to which Nino nodded sadly. “But how do you know it’s false hope and not just…hope?”
“Maybe you can afford the luxury of blindly believing, but I can’t,” Nino admitted. “It’s too painful. I still imagine him being here and it feels so right. But then like waking from a dream, he disappears again and I know this is real. He’s gone. Even though I can’t stand the idea of him not being out there somewhere, it’s driving me crazy not having him here with us.” He shut his eyes with an agonised wince, his voice dropping to a broken whisper. “It’s just easier to tell myself that he’s dead than to torture myself every waking moment imagining what hell he must be going through.”
Tears pricked at Aiba’s eyes as he listened to his friend’s confession. It wasn’t anything he didn’t already know, especially after walking in on him earlier and hearing him talking to himself. And it wasn’t like he didn’t understand how it felt. He hadn’t lied when he told Nino he wasn’t sleeping well either-how could he when his dreams were filled with Jun? They weren’t nightmares like what his friend suffered; on the contrary, they were pleasant, simple dreams of them all together. Sometimes they were real memories, others were visions of his own making. But real or not, it was losing their younger every time he roused that was painful in ways he’d never known before.
He understood Nino’s desire for closure but no matter how much agony he felt at not knowing Jun’s fate, he couldn’t bring himself to give up hope. He refused to let go of whatever small chance remained that their youngest was out there somewhere, fighting hard to get back to them. And until the day he drew his last breath, Aiba was determined to do whatever it took to keep the rest of his friends united in anticipation of his return.