Transcendency: Chapter 16
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: No rest for the weary, or in this case the angsty.
Terror clawed Nino’s chest as he and Ohno descended the building. Fifteen minutes ago, it would have been hard to believe the fear they felt on the way down could be worse than that which they felt going up but now, in the aftermath of their third spades game, it was clear the two couldn’t possibly compare. They didn’t stop to acknowledge their three new visa days or the playing card that was pinned on the wall of the second building’s hoist. Without even checking that it was safe to pass through the border of the arena, they scrambled out of the lift before it had fully reached the street-level. Their fellow player was hot on their tail. The relief to be back on solid ground was lost beneath a shared feeling of panic when they spotted the remains of the steel frame nearby. The three of them raced over to it. While the unnamed player hung back a bit, his aghast gaze fixed on the wreckage, Nino and Ohno flung themselves to their hands and knees. They began scavenging through the debris with all their might.
Despite knowing there was no possible way anyone could have survived a fall from that height, it didn’t stop them from frantically searching the rubble. He might have made it, Nino told himself over and over again. If they’d found a way to survive the fall from the top of Tokyo Dome, there was a chance, however small, that Sho had survived this too. He had to be alive-he just had to be. Nino didn’t care what his logic was telling him; he clung to whatever shred of unrealistic hope that he could. If things were as they feared and Sho wasn’t okay, both he and Ohno knew with every fibre of their being that they would not be able to handle it.
His efforts became more desperate with each passing moment as his unrealistic hope turned to harmful optimism. Every second counted; Sho could be buried alive, holding on for the moment his friends came to his rescue. Nino’s longing for that to be the case had him forgetting everything else. Tearing at the fragments of stone and steel, he was unbothered by the pain as his nails were ripped down to the bloody roots. His fingertips were scraped raw but still he continued to dig. He drew strength from sources unknown to him as he managed to shift the heavy debris in search of their friend.
“Ohno-san!” he called when he spied the shadow of a hand beneath a large fragment of the joist.
Ohno immediately rushed to his side. As they worked together to lift the particularly heavy piece of scrap, they finally came across what they were looking for.
Nino staggered back, recoiling from the gruesome discovery they uncovered amidst the wreckage. They should have known better than to think their friend would be anything close to alive after such a plummet, but the shock of actually seeing him was heart-stopping. Every last inkling of hope they had that he would have even a breath of life still within him was crushed, just like the corpse in front of them. What remained of their friend was lying in a pool of blood. The back of Sho’s skull had been smashed in from the impact of the fall. While his face was mostly intact, sans a smearing of blood on his lips and a dirty graze on his temple, his body was not so well off. His torso was flattened, his ribcage completely shattered by the heavy scaffolding on top of him. The dirt beneath him was stained not just with the crimson of his blood, but the pulpy mess of his smashed organs. They couldn’t even see his legs, what with the way his entire lower body remained pinned beneath the wreckage of the building.
The grim state of his remains should have come as no surprise to them given the height of his fall and the weight of everything that landed on him, though that didn’t make stomaching it any easier. Nino dropped to his knees, a tormented scream burning his throat. He couldn’t even cry; he just yelled until his lungs were hoarse and the sour taste of sickness formed on his tongue. Beside him, Ohno had crumbled. Anguish painted his features while a tortured yell of his own sounded. He wept uncontrollably, pounding his fists against the ground until his hands were grazed and discoloured with bruises.
Feeling a consoling palm land on his shoulder, Nino looked up through the mess of his dishevelled bangs. He gazed into the solemn eyes of the tall player. The man didn’t say a word, likely knowing there was nothing he could possibly say to make things better for the two of them. Nino stared at him for a moment. His mind raced with so many unanswered questions. He wanted to know why the stranger was still there-did he want something from them or was he just being respectful? Why had he stopped them from trying to help Sho? He knew in his heart that the man had saved them in doing so, but he still needed to know why he bothered stopping them. Nino didn’t think he had it in him to believe the best in anyone anymore.
But more than anything, he needed to know why this guy had lived when Sho could not. They were both apparently bad with heights so why was the player in front of him able to clear the game with such ease when Sho only struggled? It wasn’t fair. A vicious remark lingered on the tip of Nino’s tongue the longer he held the stranger’s gaze but anytime he went to voice it, the words snagged in his throat. In the end, his misplaced anger dissipated with a long sigh. He knew it wasn’t anyone’s fault. Pointlessly throwing blame around wasn’t going to make himself feel better, and it certainly wasn’t going to bring Sho back.
Tears welled up in his eyes as the weight of his latest lost finally hit him in full. As he struggled to hold himself together, he allowed the other guy to pull him up from the ground and envelop him in a consoling embrace. The arms holding him were strong and comforting, almost familiar. For a fleeting moment, Nino forgot they were strangers at all and gave in to the illusion that they were old friends. He closed his eyes. As his cheek was cradled by a muscular torso and he felt the hand moving in gentle strokes up and down his back, soothing his hitched breathing, he could almost believe it was Sho holding him. It was only by opening his eyes and seeing the latter’s face on the corpse at their feet that he remembered it wasn’t him.
As the embrace between him and the other man was broken, Nino forced himself to Ohno’s side. The elder was still crouched by Sho’s body. Nino didn’t need to speak for his friend to know he was there.
“We can’t leave him here,” Ohno whimpered, clutching Sho’s cold hand. “Not like this.”
Nino shook his head. He didn’t wish for this to be Sho’s final resting place either and he certainly didn’t want to leave his body grimly trapped under the ruins of an arena, but he couldn’t bring himself to go anywhere near his remains. His stomach was doing flips just smelling all the blood and if merely looking at him was enough to give his already tormented dreams nightmares, he didn’t want to find out what touching him would do.
“Here, maybe this will help,” the unnamed player said, stepping forward.
There was a roll of builder’s tarp in his hands. He gave it to Ohno, who took it tentatively. It was obvious the material had come from the construction site, though exactly when the man had found it was unknown to him. Ohno’s tearful gaze stared at the tarp for a moment before he looked up at the other guy.
“Why are you helping us?” Nino finally braved the question that had been on his mind for too long.
The player hesitated at first. As his gaze drifted between the pair and the body lying in the dirt, he sighed softly. “I don’t like watching anyone die, but seeing the effect it has on their loved ones is not something I can just walk away from, not if there’s something I can do to help.” An air of sadness fell upon him. His gaze darkened, his features contorting in painful nostalgia. “And…I know what it’s like to lose a friend like that.”
There was an earnestness in his tone that had neither Ohno nor Nino questioning his sincerity. He insisted on doing whatever he could to help bring them closure, adding wistfully that it could have easily been him to fall had things played out differently in the game. While Ohno carefully laid out the tarp beside their friend, the tall player and Nino worked together to lift the girder off his legs. Nino was admittedly impressed by how strong the other was; he managed to hold up practically the entire beam on his own. As the worst of the weight lifted from his lower body, Ohno was able to shimmy Sho out and slide him onto the tarp. The pale denim of his jeans was nearly black with the amount of blood soaking them and traces of the bone could be seen poking from the deep gashes along his shins.
The three of them did their best not to look directly at the damage. Nino, for one, couldn’t bear to scar himself further and tarnish the memories of his friend by seeing him this way. He stood back and watched with a grimace as Ohno gently wrapped their friend in the cover. Even after he was finished, he merely knelt there on the ground next to him. Nino returned to his side. His intentions of comforting the elder were lost when he stared down at the distinct body shape in the tarp. His lungs tightened, a heaviness hitting him like a lead stone dropping in his stomach. Not being able to see Sho’s mangled corpse anymore didn’t ease the pain at all, much to his disappointment.
The other player noticed the discomfort gracing both their faces, along with their hesitation to touch the body again. “Do you need help moving him someplace?”
Ohno shook his head quietly. Nino was less willing to disregard his offer. He felt a flicker of doubt, his longing to make things easier for them both battling with a desire to preserve the intimacy of their friendship. Eventually, he shook his head as well. As much as the thought of having to bury another friend disgusted him, he knew it was their responsibility alone.
“We can take it from here,” he said, dipping his head in a forcibly polite gesture. “Thank you for your help.”
The tall player appeared concerned but respected their decision to do it alone. It didn’t stop him from hesitating to leave, however.
“Are you sure you guys are going to be okay?” He looked anxiously between the two broken men in front of him. Their tears may have dried but it was clear they were anything but alright.
“It’s not the first time we’ve lost a friend,” Ohno replied quietly.
And it probably won’t be the last, Nino thought to himself, though caught his tongue before he let it slip aloud.
“In that case, take care,” the player said. He bowed to them and with a final sympathetic glance at the body by their feet, he disappeared into the night.
Nino and Ohno waited until they could no longer see him before finally turning back to Sho’s body. They exchanged a sad look; the thought of moving him themselves brought the taste of bile to Nino’s tongue but he kept his discomfort from showing on his face. They ensured the tarp was fully secured before attempting to lift him; the last thing either of them wanted was for it to slip off part way through the journey back. As they raised him up, the heaviness of his remains came as a startling shock to Nino. He wasn’t sure if it was because Ohno only had one good arm or because Sho’s muscular form was now nothing but literal deadweight, but he immediately regretted not taking the other player up on his offer of assistance. It was with great strain that they began the long and arduous trek home. The added task of carrying Sho slowed their pace considerably, turning what should have been a twenty-minute walk to more than an hour hike, littered with constant stops and starts.
Nino tried not to cringe when he felt the body in his hands start to stiffen as the early stages of rigor mortis set in. It was all he could do to force himself to keep going, stopping only as needed to readjust his grip or give his muscles a quick moment of respite. Not a word was spoken between him or Ohno the whole way. There was no point; Nino knew there was nothing to say, not that talking would help anyway. The concerned, almost vague look that continued to mar the elder’s face the entire way assured him that he wasn’t all there. He was too lost in his own thoughts to hear even if Nino did have anything to say.
Fortunately, words weren’t needed for them to know exactly where they were taking their friend. They laid Sho down on the soft, dew-covered grass. While Ohno began wordlessly digging a new hole with his bare hands beside the tombstone already there, Nino went to grab the shovels they used last time. After some debate, they decided against burying him with the tarp. As much as it killed them to have to look at what had become of his body again, they knew it wouldn’t be right to say goodbye to a sheet of material rather than his actual face. They unfolded the tarp and used it only to lower him gently into the grave.
Dawn’s light was creeping up from the horizon by the time they finished Sho’s burial. Nino could hardly bring himself to listen even as Ohno poured his heart out in a final farewell. It wasn’t that he didn’t care what was being said; he simply couldn’t bring himself to intrude on the private words he knew were meant only for the deceased. But while he tried not to listen to the intimate goodbye, there was no ignoring the way his heart broke when he looked at Ohno. All trace of his previous strength was gone as he allowed his grief to be on full display. It wasn’t just that they’d lost Sho-it was that he’d failed in his promise to protect them both. Even if Sho had tricked him into believing everything would be okay, he’d still done exactly what he swore he wouldn’t do by choosing between his friends. It was a deed he didn’t begin to know how to apologise for.
Tears trickled silently down Nino’s face as he stood before the two tombstones. It was a completely different pain to what he felt when they lost Aiba. The latter’s death had been like finding himself in a world without light or hope, leaving him void of all happiness. It was like every minute was spent drowning in his own never-ending misery. Sho’s death hit him differently. A sharp and ricocheting agony seethed through him from head to toe. While the aftermath of Aiba’s demise brought with it an onslaught of overwhelming guilt for having deceived him, the loss of Sho had Nino grieving the time wasted. He regretted every second he spent fighting with his friend; they were seconds he could have used making good memories instead. He didn’t want to remember Sho for the arguments they had, but rather the amazing person he was. The brainiac with a rebellious streak, the caring if not sometimes overbearing big brother figure, the guy who always put his friends first-that was the version of Sho he wanted to engrave in his memory.
When they finally forced themselves to head back to the hotel, there was no ignoring how much emptier the whole place seemed to be now that it was just the two of them. The halls felt bigger somehow. Colder too. The echo of their footsteps was hollow as they dragged themselves up the flights of stairs to the seventh floor. Retreating to the solitude of his room, the notion of sleep didn’t even cross Nino’s mind. He’d long since grown used to this perpetual feeling of exhaustion and knew that with his chronic nightmares waiting for him every time he closed his eyes, it wasn’t worth trying anymore.
He sat on his bed holding his head in his hands. It was hard to contemplate how far they’d fallen in just a few weeks. The more he thought things over, the less sense it seemed to make. He couldn’t for the life of him comprehend how they’d been able to survive the ten of spades with all five of their lives intact and yet couldn’t even get through a measly three difficulty without losing someone precious to them. The answer was something deep down he already knew-they were incomplete; their trust had been broken and it cost them everything dear to them-though he couldn’t bring himself to accept the truth.
Nino wasn’t sure how long he spent sitting in the reflective silence of his own thoughts before the delusions appeared again. Even awake, it appeared he was incapable of escaping his nightmares. He did his best to ignore their critical gaze watching him from the corner of his room. He couldn’t face them. The knowledge that they weren’t really there, because of him, was too much to bear. He could feel himself slipping back into the familiar grips of deep despair, from which he wasn’t sure he would be strong enough to pull himself out of. As he pondered if it was even worth trying to fight off these feelings, his gaze flickered to the drawer where the knife was hidden. He stared for a moment but resisted the urge to open it. He would keep his promise to Ohno, though he wasn’t confident avoiding the blade would do anything to keep his influx of troubled thoughts at bay.
His attention was drawn back from the desk when there was a knock at his door. He looked up in time to see Ohno enter. Still looking as miserable as ever, he was holding a bottle of water and a small plate of produce from their greenhouse. He passed them to the younger guy.
“I’m not hungry,” Nino muttered.
Ohno placed his offerings on the bedside table. It didn’t escape Nino’s notice that his friend glanced at the drawer when he did, as if to confirm the knife was still there.
“You need to eat something,” Ohno sighed. “We need to keep our strength up.”
“Why?”
“Because you’ll starve otherwise.” When Nino didn’t respond, Ohno looked to him anxiously. “You can’t give up, Nino.”
“What’s the point?” Nino asked defeatedly. Sitting slouched over the way he was, he didn’t even attempt to meet his friend’s gaze. “We’re the only ones left. What does it matter if we keep going or not?”
Ohno’s heart began to beat a little faster when he heard how drained the younger sounded. He expected Nino to be in a bad place again-after Sho’s death, it took all Ohno’s remaining will just to force himself to push through his own grief. But rather than mourning, Nino simply looked unmotivated to do anything. The light was missing from his eyes, his voice holding a dull twinge. His lips seemed drawn in a permanent pout; Ohno was struggling to recall the last time he saw his once trademark smirk. Compared to the confident, impish young man he’d been friends with for years, the person in front of him appeared almost unrecognisable.
“B-Because our visas…we have to keep playing for the others, right?” There was a trace of uncertainty in Ohno’s tone, leaving his words sounding more like a question than a statement.
“Why?” When Nino finally lifted his gaze to look him in the eye, there was a sudden harshness to his features. It wasn’t his usual snark, but rather a scowl that made him seem genuinely angry. “You keep saying they would want us to live, but did you ever once hear any of them actually tell us that? Did J or Aiba-chan or Sho-chan ever say those words?”
Ohno hesitated to answer. Nino scoffed and turned away again, flopping down on his bed in a dramatic fashion.
“Like I said, there’s no point.”
“They never said it,” Ohno admitted eventually. “But the friends I knew wouldn’t have wanted us to give up.”
“You sure about that? Because the friends I knew wouldn’t have wanted us to keep suffering,” Nino retorted, his tone scathing. “If they could see the way we’re hurting now, do you really think they’d want us to keep going?”
“Yes…”
“Why? What makes you so sure that’s what they’d want?”
“Because they died for us!” Ohno snapped, raising his voice in an impassioned shout most unusual for him. “If they didn’t want us to keep living, they wouldn’t have chosen to die so that we wouldn’t.”
He barely got the words out before he lost his composure. His bottom lip started to tremble, his eyes watering as the rawness of their losses came flooding back. His gaze dropped to the floor and his voice became a shaky whisper.
“I don’t want them to have died for nothing.”
Nino stared at him, a feeling of guilt burrowing in his heart at how tired his friend suddenly looked. It was as if everything he’d been holding onto for so long had been released in that single shout, all the strength he’d been forcing himself to have for their sake vanishing to leave him completely powerless.
“I’m not ready to die yet,” Ohno murmured. “And no matter what you say to try and convince me otherwise, I don’t believe you are either.”
Letting his profound words resonate with him, Ohno walked steadily to the door, muttering something along the way about making sure he ate something. The door shut with a soft click behind him. Torn didn’t even come close to describing how Nino felt in that moment. The two sides of him were at complete war. The competitive side, the part of him that drove his love of games and filled him with an unquenchable thirst to win, was screaming at him to get up, to keep living despite everything else. Yet he could not ignore the frightened voice that was reminding him of all the consequences he’d already faced by listening to that other half. It had cost him three of his friends already and left him feeling like a scared, lonely little boy with nothing to live for.
As he was contemplating what to do, a shiver ran up his spine when the sensation of being watched returned. He dared to glance over his shoulder at the three semi-translucent figures still standing on the other side of the room. They didn’t speak; they only stared. Nino shuffled uncomfortably under their gaze. While Aiba’s sparkled with their usual optimism, Sho’s eyes were unexpectedly gentle and brimming with guidance. Jun’s were full of challenge as if silently daring him to choose a course of action then and there. Holding their gaze for but a moment, Nino shut his eyes and willed them away. He couldn’t face them right now. They were gone when he opened his eyes again but their influence continued to be felt, as strongly as if they really had been there.
He sighed under his breath. Slowly, he forced himself to sit up and grabbed the bottle of water Ohno left him. He unscrewed the cap and took a small sip as he looked to the food beside it. The thought of eating anything made his innards churn but it didn’t stop him from reaching for the smallest piece.
It was some hours later that Nino stood at the threshold of his room. It would be easy to just forget it; there was nothing stopping him from turning right around and returning to the cocoon of his seclusion so that his original plan of letting his visa expire could play out, but his feet were cemented. Staring down the empty corridor at Ohno’s room only a few doors away, he felt a pang of discomfort at the notion of them being separated. His hand fell away from the handle and he found himself moving with swift steps over to the other’s door.
Ohno looked up from his sketchpad, bewildered when Nino entered without knocking. For a moment, there was nothing but tense silence. Intrigued by the complexity of emotions he was letting show on his face as he stood in the doorway, Ohno waited for his friend to speak first.
“I don’t want to be alone,” Nino eventually murmured.
Deciding to finally take the elder up on his offer of sharing a room, he walked quietly over to the bed and climbed up beside him. He nestled into Ohno’s embrace despite any objections the latter might have had. He didn’t care if his presence was unexpected, or even unwelcome-he wasn’t going anywhere. It wasn’t just for his sanity; he was worried about Ohno too. He was already aware how tormented his friend was over what happened on that bridge but seeing him break down the way he did earlier was all the confirmation Nino required to know Ohno needed him as much as he did. It was obvious that, much like he had with Aiba, Ohno was blaming himself for how things played out. He believed it was his fault Sho fell, that he’d chosen between his friends and ultimately let Sho die by doing so. It was a feeling Nino could sympathise with-after all, if he hadn’t lost his balance, Ohno wouldn’t have needed to come to his rescue and Sho might still be alive. But as guilty as he felt for being the one to live, he really was grateful to Ohno for saving his life. He needed to make sure the latter knew it too.
“Thank you,” he whispered as he lay in the warm embrace of his friend. It was all he could think to say. He knew Ohno was terrified that he would lose him too, in or out of the games, and was doing everything he could to not only protect Nino, but to prove to him that he had a reason to keep living. All Nino could do was assure him that his wish had reached him.
Silence reigned in the darkness of the room. Nino could feel the slight tremor in the chest that was pressed against his and it was enough to confirm Ohno heard him, as was the cold sensation that trickled onto Nino’s shoulder a minute later. A dampness ran down his own cheek when he felt the arms around his waist pull him in closer.
“I’m glad you’re alive, Kazunari.” The overflowing emotion made Ohno’s voice quiver a little.
In any other situation, Nino would have laughed and poked fun at him for getting all teary, but instead he remained silent. He rubbed his eyes dry with the back of his sleeve. He was glad too, even though he still felt guilty for it. It didn’t seem right to acknowledge, let alone celebrate, his continued existence knowing it came at the cost of his friend’s life. But Ohno was right. Not Sho, nor Aiba, nor Jun would want them to torture themselves for living on in their absence.
As the heaviness of their recent loss took its toll, the acceptance of their path forward as two proving equally taxing on their emotional states, the pair slowly slipped into oblivion.
The next few days were not much easier on them as they attempted to overcome their grief together. Reluctant to let Ohno out of his sight, Nino clung to him like a second skin, not caring if the other wanted space. Ohno was all he had left and he refused to leave his side even for a moment. Like a lost puppy, he would follow him everywhere he went, not giving him breathing room even to sleep. Despite an initial irritation at his constant presence, Ohno quickly became accustomed to having Nino by his side. He seemed comforted whenever the younger draped against him or laid his head in his lap while he worked on his sketches.
But while he may have learnt to appreciate the company, the reciprocal effect was not at all what Nino hoped for. For the first day or so, it was a struggle not to give in to old demons. He felt a loneliness developing in spite of their physical proximity. Every touch felt empty, his guilty conscience sapping the joy out of each moment he spent with his friend. His lingering remorse for having survived when Sho hadn’t made it increasingly difficult to face the elder too; even if Ohno didn’t show any sign of despising him, it still felt like he was rubbing salt into his wounds as his mere presence acted as an unwelcome reminder of the choice Ohno had needed to make that night.
Despite the initial struggle, Nino pushed through his discomfort. He discarded every dark thought that crossed his mind and ignored the delusions that appeared before him. Even with the addition of Sho to their ranks making it feel like he couldn’t escape his guilt, he refused to succumb to the temptation of giving up again. It must have worked because as time went on, his pain, while still agonising, transformed from a raw wound to more of a dull and constant ache in his heart. His hallucinations became scarcer as he surrendered himself wholly to the company of his remaining friend, granting himself permission to enjoy what he had left instead of dwelling on all he’d lost.
Although they had found their rhythm again, there was noticeable tension between them whenever there was any mention of the games. The thought of entering into another unknown challenge had them both incredibly agitated. Nino, especially, couldn’t help panicking as his imagination ran rampant with visions of all that could go wrong should his skills as a gamer fail him yet again. He shadowed his friend as they made their way into the dark cityscape, keeping their eyes peeled for the first directions due to appear.
“You sure you’re up for this?” Ohno asked warily.
Nino hid his dread behind a smirk. “Scared, Oh-chan?”
“No,” Ohno snapped. A flicker of unease crossed his gaze a second later. “Just wondering if it isn’t more dangerous to play together these days.”
Nino would be lying if he said the thought hadn’t crossed his mind too. But as scared as he was to lose Ohno the way he lost his other friends, he knew there would be no way in hell he could concentrate in a game on his own. Not knowing what struggles the other was facing or if he was even still alive would be too much to handle.
“As if you can get rid of me that easily,” he said, his tone playful despite the compassionate glint in his eyes as he gazed at the elder. He slung his arm around his shoulders. “We both know you wouldn’t stand a chance without my talents.”
Ohno looked to him, bemused. Then he chuckled. While his apprehension lingered, he was pleased to hear Nino sounding more like himself than he had in weeks. It was a side to him he’d sorely missed of late and even if it was just a brazen front, he didn’t care. He was just glad to have his friend back.
The smell of rain hung in the air as they followed the arrows to their next arena. Nino frowned when he recognised the route they were taking. It was one he’d come to know better in recent weeks. He exchanged an uneasy look with Ohno, who also seemed to realise where they were headed. The urban landscape gave way to a more natural scene until finally, the park itself came into view. Nino and Ohno found themselves hesitating at the border. The familiarity of the arena they’d arrived at was undeniably unpleasant. They looked behind them, scouring the horizon for any other arenas in the vicinity. When they saw none, they gazed back at each other. Knowing they had no choice didn’t do anything to ease their concerns. Taking a deep breath, they stepped over the border and prayed what lay in wait for them wouldn’t be as bad as they feared.
The boys weren’t sure whether to be relieved or not when the arrows led them in a different direction to where their friends’ graves were situated. Over the ridge, they found themselves face to face with their playground for the evening. It was not at all what they were expecting. There was nothing ominous about the pretty set-up ahead of them. A string of fairy lights, not unlike the ones they’d hung on their hotel rooftop, were strung above a picnic table in the middle of the parklands. It looked almost romantic, like the venue for a young couple’s first date.
But for all the unthreatening qualities of the arena, there was no denying the way their hearts skipped a beat when they saw only two phones lying on the table. They tentatively picked up one each. Nino wasn’t surprised when they were registered into the game, only for there to be no countdown or chance for other players to arrive.
“Game: Iron Arms,” their phones declared. “Difficulty: Two of Hearts.”
Swallowing nervously, the friends looked to each other in dread. A hearts game was the last thing they were hoping for.
“Rules: Players will compete head-to-head in an arm-wrestling match. Clear condition: Once players have locked hands, they must not let go until someone’s arm has hit the table. Players may use whatever strategy they wish to win. The player who fails to pin their opponent’s arm will be eliminated.”
Nino couldn’t breathe. His fearful gaze flew to Ohno, scaling his toned arms to his broad shoulders. It was the worst possible situation. Not only was it a hearts game designed for only one winner, but it wasn’t even a fair playing field. His friends had done their fair share of arm-wrestles in the past; while Nino had held his weakest title steady for a good five years, the only one who’d ever beaten Ohno in their group was Aiba. A voice inside his head was taunting him that he should have listened to his friend and split up tonight. At least then he wouldn’t have forced Ohno into murdering him.
“What do we do?” the elder choked out. “There has to be a way for us to both walk away from this.”
Still shaken, Nino shook his head. He knew his friend was hoping for him to think of some miracle solution, but his mind was blank. Arm-wrestling was a simple contest-there was one winner and one loser. The only thing he could think to do was challenge the arm-wrestle with both arms, though the strategy wasn’t without its flaws. The awkwardness of the position would surely entangle their limbs, to the point where he didn’t even know if it would be possible to pin either arm. If that was true, considering the rule of not being allowed to release each other’s hands, it was a tactic that would potentially kill them both. He didn’t get Ohno’s hopes up by voicing his half-baked solution.
Sighing hopelessly, they took their seats opposite each other at the picnic table. Nino did a doubletake at the hand his friend offered him.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Ohno looked confused by his question. “Starting the game? We have to, right?”
“Not that,” Nino snapped. “Your arm. I’m left-handed, remember. It’s not enough that you’re stronger than me-you have to play your dominant arm against my weaker one? How is that fair?”
“I can’t play with my left arm. It was mauled, in case you’ve forgotten,” Ohno reminded him sharply. “I’d hardly call it fair to play your dominant arm against my crippled one.”
“So just because of that I should let you have the advantage?”
“I’ve seen you play with your right hand, Nino,” Ohno scowled. His voice dropped to a mutter when he added, “And it’s not like it’ll change the outcome anyway.”
Whether he was supposed to hear it or not, his comment ignited a competitive spark in Nino, one he hadn’t truly felt since their early games. His blood boiled and he clenched his teeth, his glare burning into the elder.
“Then humour me,” he snarled, extending his left arm. “If you truly believe it won’t change the outcome, what does it matter if we level the playing field a little?”
Ohno clicked his tongue in annoyance even as he offered up his left arm reluctantly. When Nino went to take it, the former pulled back before he could.
“Let’s play fair, okay?” His gaze was firm, his expression unyielding as he stared the younger down.
Nino fought to keep his own expression unreadable despite the flicker of irritation he felt. He should have known Ohno would be dubious about the rules of the game. Truth be told, he knew there was some truth to his friend’s remark. Battling it out with their left arms didn’t give him any more confidence that he would win. Even with his injury and his non-dominant hand, Nino knew Ohno was still a great deal stronger than him. If he was to stand any real chance, he would need to use strategy over strength. Feeling his friend’s steely glare watching him, awaiting his answer, he begrudgingly agreed to play by traditional match rules. He immediately regretted his decision. He’d hoped the freedom to cheat that this game allowed would give him better odds of winning, but now he’d essentially doomed himself to what was likely going to be a swift defeat.
“May the best player win,” said Ohno.
“I will,” Nino replied, clenching his hand tighter than necessary and causing his friend to wince a little.
Their phones chimed as the game officially began. Immediately, Nino felt an intense pressure against his arm. He inhaled sharply as the match was nearly lost in the first two seconds. He barely managed to keep his arm from being pinned straight away. His expression began to lose composure only a few seconds in, the strain of his muscles sending agony ricocheting all the way up his neck and down into the reaches of his lower back. He lifted himself slightly from the table as he attempted to put his entire weight behind his push-back.
When he dared to glance up at his friend, he felt a flush of rage when he saw Ohno was not yet breaking a sweat. He didn’t even seem to be pushing. He looked like he was just sitting there waiting for Nino to make his move, with the exception of the slightly more defined muscles in his arms and his perfectly straight posture being the only clues to indicate that he was actually engaged in the competition at all. While he knew in his heart that Ohno was deliberately holding back, most likely to spare himself the inevitable pain of having to kill his friend, the blasé expression he wore only infuriated Nino. He pushed that much harder, gritting his teeth as he did everything humanly possible to shift his companion’s steel-like arm. His efforts were in vain and as his strength began to dwindle little by little, Ohno made his move. He applied a bit more pressure, observing closely as Nino’s elbow slipped back across the table.
As he watched his arm creep closer and closer to the wood, Nino began to panic. His frantic gaze darted between his friend’s face and his wounded shoulder. One slip was all he needed. He cursed himself for even hoping that the elder might succumb to the pain of his straining stitches and give him the opening needed to win, but he couldn’t help it. Face-to-face with his own mortality, he realised now more than ever that Ohno was right. He wasn’t ready for his life to end just yet. He was desperate to think of some tactic that might help him turn the tables. There was nothing in the rules against cheating; in fact, it seemed to be encouraged. Anything went as long as their hands remained connected. Nino knew it was dishonourable and unsportsmanlike to even consider breaking his promise of a fair game, but he couldn’t for the life of him believe that their current conditions of play were fair either.
Panicked and backed into a corner, he gave into temptation. His brain raced to come up with a strong tactic. Using both arms jumped to mind but he knew that if he did, Ohno would surely use both too. He could go on the verbal offence; his friend had always been fairly easy to manipulate, so Nino didn’t think it would be too hard to come up with something to say that would distract him long enough to gain the advantage. Then again, he could feel his arm losing strength by the second and had no idea how much longer he could hold out. If only there was a way to make his friend lose his concentration-a split second was all he needed to pin him, Nino was sure of it.
Blocking out every shred of integrity he had for the sake of self-preservation, Nino stared at Ohno hard. He kept his gaze steady as he waited for his chance. Soon, Ohno sensed he was being watched and dared to meet Nino’s eyes. As soon as he did, Nino blew.
Ohno recoiled at the burst of air that flew into his eyes. He blinked multiple times, the strength in his arm wavering slightly but not nearly enough to allow Nino to get the upper hand. As he recovered from the shock of the gust, indignation flooded his expression. He glared daggers at Nino.
“I thought we agreed we would play fair!” he growled.
While he did feel guilty for cheating, especially as it hadn’t even worked, Nino refused to let it show on his face. “The rules said anything goes.”
“And you said you wouldn’t do anything underhanded!”
Nino didn’t respond. He merely continued to push against the arm that was refusing to budge. Ohno’s gaze darkened.
“Fine, if you’re going to play dirty, I’ll play to win.”
Before Nino even had the chance to register the threat, he felt a powerful force against his arm. As Ohno pushed with his full strength, no longer holding back, it was all Nino could do to keep his arm from snapping. He swore loudly when he felt his bones creaking under the strain that was suddenly thrust upon him. He grappled to regain control. His right hand flew to his own aid, pushing back with all his might. The veins in both his neck and arms were pulsating under the intense strain Ohno was putting him under. He’d thought it deplorable when the idea first came to mind but he was seriously regretting not taking the opportunity to punch Ohno in the shoulder to debilitate him. Now, it was too late.
Clenching his jaw, Nino threatened to bite clean through his tongue. Pushing back against the other was impossible-it was taking all the strength and concentration he had just to keep his arm where it was. But despite using everything he had, it was not enough. Ohno was able to hold steady despite the additional hand pushing at him. Not even his mind games were enough to sway his steely focus.
“What are you waiting for?” Nino spat. “Get it over with!”
Ohno’s icy gaze glared straight through him, seeming to not even hear him. But if the way he continued to force Nino’s arms closer to the bench was any indication, it didn’t matter either way. Nino honestly couldn’t tell if he was being deliberately cruel in drawing out his inevitable victory or simply taking his time to ensure he didn’t fall for any of the younger’s last-ditch efforts to reverse the outcome. Not that Nino felt there was any point in trying anymore.
“We both know you’re going to win this, so just do it already!” he shouted when the agony became too much to bear any longer. “Kill me!”
It was this cry that wrenched Ohno out of his deep trance. He blinked and his concentration was lost. He looked sharply at Nino, but the younger wasn’t paying him any attention. He was practically standing at this point. His whole face was flushed red and scrunched up in exertion as he tried for one last all-for-nothing attempt to win. Ohno could feel him applying as much pressure as he could, throwing his entire body weight behind his efforts, but still the arm refused to budge. But while Ohno’s limb remained as steady as stone, his expression wavered.
He felt a lump form in his throat, a hollowness burrowing in his chest as he faced the situation in front of him. Nino was fighting so hard; despite everything he may have said about believing his loss was guaranteed, he was still refusing to give up until the very last moment. They were not the actions of someone who wanted to die. It confirmed what Ohno had known and hoped for all along. For all his grief-stricken suicidal thoughts and talk about giving up, Nino was still choosing life.
Kill me. His plea echoed over again, the apparent accusation behind it ringing in Ohno’s mind. Kill me like you killed the others.
Ohno recalled the frightened look on Aiba’s face as he begged for them to stop deceiving one another, minutes before he threw the game to put an end to it himself. He remembered the sadness in Jun’s recording as he confessed to feeling like a burden to them; it echoed alongside flashes of the younger’s morose expression the day he came to his room to make amends before their first hearts game. He recalled the words Sho said to him before he fell, his claim that he couldn’t save them both falling on deaf ears despite it being true.
The memories continued to flash in his mind, that sense of duty he’d always felt towards them burning bright in his heart. The weight of everything he was reflecting on brought about an intense wave of emotion that caused his voice to break.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you all. I’m sorry for Sho-kun, and for Aiba-chan.” He trailed off as the swell of nostalgia nearly left him speechless. He kept his arm stable as he faced Nino, watching him closely for any sign that he was listening. “I’m sorry for Matsujun too.”
Taken aback by his unexpected atonement, Nino lost focus on the game for a split second as he met his friend’s gaze. A half smile played on Ohno’s lips when he saw the confusion on his face. Before Nino could even think, his arm was thrust downwards onto the table in one swift motion. The impact was softened by the arm beneath his own. Startled by what just happened, Nino looked down at their hands. He had pinned Ohno-no, Ohno had made Nino pin him.
Stunned, Nino stared at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. His gaze moved nervously between his friend’s face and the position of their hands. His expression flooded with sudden fright as the realisation sunk in.
“No,” he stammered. “No, no, no!”
He tried to lift their arms back off the table to reverse the result, despite knowing the verdict had already been made.
"It’s okay,” Ohno whispered. He kept their hands connected and gave Nino’s a gentle squeeze.
“Why?” Nino wailed, a noticeable catch in his throat as an onslaught of emotion came rushing to the surface all at once. “You said you weren’t ready to die.”
Ohno held his gaze. There was a complex blend of emotions shining true in the elder’s eyes-distress, melancholy, frustration-but above all, there was a sense of content. He knew exactly what was coming but it was as if he felt no fear for his demise, only that Nino would have to bear witness to it.
“I’m ready now,” he answered simply. With a soft and honest smile, he added, “Live for us.”
Finally hearing the words, Nino felt a pang in his heart like never before. It was as if someone had reached straight into his chest and stolen his soul from within him. He shook his head desperately, clutching Ohno’s hand tighter. But the latter just continued to smile and whispered those same words again.
As if knowing precisely that his time was up, Ohno shut his eyes and leant backwards. A soft sigh escaped his upturned lips a second before the red light shot from the sky. His hand slipped from Nino’s grasp, their connection severing. As his form fell lifeless to the ground, Nino’s anguished cries thundered in the silence of the night.
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: No rest for the weary, or in this case the angsty.
Terror clawed Nino’s chest as he and Ohno descended the building. Fifteen minutes ago, it would have been hard to believe the fear they felt on the way down could be worse than that which they felt going up but now, in the aftermath of their third spades game, it was clear the two couldn’t possibly compare. They didn’t stop to acknowledge their three new visa days or the playing card that was pinned on the wall of the second building’s hoist. Without even checking that it was safe to pass through the border of the arena, they scrambled out of the lift before it had fully reached the street-level. Their fellow player was hot on their tail. The relief to be back on solid ground was lost beneath a shared feeling of panic when they spotted the remains of the steel frame nearby. The three of them raced over to it. While the unnamed player hung back a bit, his aghast gaze fixed on the wreckage, Nino and Ohno flung themselves to their hands and knees. They began scavenging through the debris with all their might.
Despite knowing there was no possible way anyone could have survived a fall from that height, it didn’t stop them from frantically searching the rubble. He might have made it, Nino told himself over and over again. If they’d found a way to survive the fall from the top of Tokyo Dome, there was a chance, however small, that Sho had survived this too. He had to be alive-he just had to be. Nino didn’t care what his logic was telling him; he clung to whatever shred of unrealistic hope that he could. If things were as they feared and Sho wasn’t okay, both he and Ohno knew with every fibre of their being that they would not be able to handle it.
His efforts became more desperate with each passing moment as his unrealistic hope turned to harmful optimism. Every second counted; Sho could be buried alive, holding on for the moment his friends came to his rescue. Nino’s longing for that to be the case had him forgetting everything else. Tearing at the fragments of stone and steel, he was unbothered by the pain as his nails were ripped down to the bloody roots. His fingertips were scraped raw but still he continued to dig. He drew strength from sources unknown to him as he managed to shift the heavy debris in search of their friend.
“Ohno-san!” he called when he spied the shadow of a hand beneath a large fragment of the joist.
Ohno immediately rushed to his side. As they worked together to lift the particularly heavy piece of scrap, they finally came across what they were looking for.
Nino staggered back, recoiling from the gruesome discovery they uncovered amidst the wreckage. They should have known better than to think their friend would be anything close to alive after such a plummet, but the shock of actually seeing him was heart-stopping. Every last inkling of hope they had that he would have even a breath of life still within him was crushed, just like the corpse in front of them. What remained of their friend was lying in a pool of blood. The back of Sho’s skull had been smashed in from the impact of the fall. While his face was mostly intact, sans a smearing of blood on his lips and a dirty graze on his temple, his body was not so well off. His torso was flattened, his ribcage completely shattered by the heavy scaffolding on top of him. The dirt beneath him was stained not just with the crimson of his blood, but the pulpy mess of his smashed organs. They couldn’t even see his legs, what with the way his entire lower body remained pinned beneath the wreckage of the building.
The grim state of his remains should have come as no surprise to them given the height of his fall and the weight of everything that landed on him, though that didn’t make stomaching it any easier. Nino dropped to his knees, a tormented scream burning his throat. He couldn’t even cry; he just yelled until his lungs were hoarse and the sour taste of sickness formed on his tongue. Beside him, Ohno had crumbled. Anguish painted his features while a tortured yell of his own sounded. He wept uncontrollably, pounding his fists against the ground until his hands were grazed and discoloured with bruises.
Feeling a consoling palm land on his shoulder, Nino looked up through the mess of his dishevelled bangs. He gazed into the solemn eyes of the tall player. The man didn’t say a word, likely knowing there was nothing he could possibly say to make things better for the two of them. Nino stared at him for a moment. His mind raced with so many unanswered questions. He wanted to know why the stranger was still there-did he want something from them or was he just being respectful? Why had he stopped them from trying to help Sho? He knew in his heart that the man had saved them in doing so, but he still needed to know why he bothered stopping them. Nino didn’t think he had it in him to believe the best in anyone anymore.
But more than anything, he needed to know why this guy had lived when Sho could not. They were both apparently bad with heights so why was the player in front of him able to clear the game with such ease when Sho only struggled? It wasn’t fair. A vicious remark lingered on the tip of Nino’s tongue the longer he held the stranger’s gaze but anytime he went to voice it, the words snagged in his throat. In the end, his misplaced anger dissipated with a long sigh. He knew it wasn’t anyone’s fault. Pointlessly throwing blame around wasn’t going to make himself feel better, and it certainly wasn’t going to bring Sho back.
Tears welled up in his eyes as the weight of his latest lost finally hit him in full. As he struggled to hold himself together, he allowed the other guy to pull him up from the ground and envelop him in a consoling embrace. The arms holding him were strong and comforting, almost familiar. For a fleeting moment, Nino forgot they were strangers at all and gave in to the illusion that they were old friends. He closed his eyes. As his cheek was cradled by a muscular torso and he felt the hand moving in gentle strokes up and down his back, soothing his hitched breathing, he could almost believe it was Sho holding him. It was only by opening his eyes and seeing the latter’s face on the corpse at their feet that he remembered it wasn’t him.
As the embrace between him and the other man was broken, Nino forced himself to Ohno’s side. The elder was still crouched by Sho’s body. Nino didn’t need to speak for his friend to know he was there.
“We can’t leave him here,” Ohno whimpered, clutching Sho’s cold hand. “Not like this.”
Nino shook his head. He didn’t wish for this to be Sho’s final resting place either and he certainly didn’t want to leave his body grimly trapped under the ruins of an arena, but he couldn’t bring himself to go anywhere near his remains. His stomach was doing flips just smelling all the blood and if merely looking at him was enough to give his already tormented dreams nightmares, he didn’t want to find out what touching him would do.
“Here, maybe this will help,” the unnamed player said, stepping forward.
There was a roll of builder’s tarp in his hands. He gave it to Ohno, who took it tentatively. It was obvious the material had come from the construction site, though exactly when the man had found it was unknown to him. Ohno’s tearful gaze stared at the tarp for a moment before he looked up at the other guy.
“Why are you helping us?” Nino finally braved the question that had been on his mind for too long.
The player hesitated at first. As his gaze drifted between the pair and the body lying in the dirt, he sighed softly. “I don’t like watching anyone die, but seeing the effect it has on their loved ones is not something I can just walk away from, not if there’s something I can do to help.” An air of sadness fell upon him. His gaze darkened, his features contorting in painful nostalgia. “And…I know what it’s like to lose a friend like that.”
There was an earnestness in his tone that had neither Ohno nor Nino questioning his sincerity. He insisted on doing whatever he could to help bring them closure, adding wistfully that it could have easily been him to fall had things played out differently in the game. While Ohno carefully laid out the tarp beside their friend, the tall player and Nino worked together to lift the girder off his legs. Nino was admittedly impressed by how strong the other was; he managed to hold up practically the entire beam on his own. As the worst of the weight lifted from his lower body, Ohno was able to shimmy Sho out and slide him onto the tarp. The pale denim of his jeans was nearly black with the amount of blood soaking them and traces of the bone could be seen poking from the deep gashes along his shins.
The three of them did their best not to look directly at the damage. Nino, for one, couldn’t bear to scar himself further and tarnish the memories of his friend by seeing him this way. He stood back and watched with a grimace as Ohno gently wrapped their friend in the cover. Even after he was finished, he merely knelt there on the ground next to him. Nino returned to his side. His intentions of comforting the elder were lost when he stared down at the distinct body shape in the tarp. His lungs tightened, a heaviness hitting him like a lead stone dropping in his stomach. Not being able to see Sho’s mangled corpse anymore didn’t ease the pain at all, much to his disappointment.
The other player noticed the discomfort gracing both their faces, along with their hesitation to touch the body again. “Do you need help moving him someplace?”
Ohno shook his head quietly. Nino was less willing to disregard his offer. He felt a flicker of doubt, his longing to make things easier for them both battling with a desire to preserve the intimacy of their friendship. Eventually, he shook his head as well. As much as the thought of having to bury another friend disgusted him, he knew it was their responsibility alone.
“We can take it from here,” he said, dipping his head in a forcibly polite gesture. “Thank you for your help.”
The tall player appeared concerned but respected their decision to do it alone. It didn’t stop him from hesitating to leave, however.
“Are you sure you guys are going to be okay?” He looked anxiously between the two broken men in front of him. Their tears may have dried but it was clear they were anything but alright.
“It’s not the first time we’ve lost a friend,” Ohno replied quietly.
And it probably won’t be the last, Nino thought to himself, though caught his tongue before he let it slip aloud.
“In that case, take care,” the player said. He bowed to them and with a final sympathetic glance at the body by their feet, he disappeared into the night.
Nino and Ohno waited until they could no longer see him before finally turning back to Sho’s body. They exchanged a sad look; the thought of moving him themselves brought the taste of bile to Nino’s tongue but he kept his discomfort from showing on his face. They ensured the tarp was fully secured before attempting to lift him; the last thing either of them wanted was for it to slip off part way through the journey back. As they raised him up, the heaviness of his remains came as a startling shock to Nino. He wasn’t sure if it was because Ohno only had one good arm or because Sho’s muscular form was now nothing but literal deadweight, but he immediately regretted not taking the other player up on his offer of assistance. It was with great strain that they began the long and arduous trek home. The added task of carrying Sho slowed their pace considerably, turning what should have been a twenty-minute walk to more than an hour hike, littered with constant stops and starts.
Nino tried not to cringe when he felt the body in his hands start to stiffen as the early stages of rigor mortis set in. It was all he could do to force himself to keep going, stopping only as needed to readjust his grip or give his muscles a quick moment of respite. Not a word was spoken between him or Ohno the whole way. There was no point; Nino knew there was nothing to say, not that talking would help anyway. The concerned, almost vague look that continued to mar the elder’s face the entire way assured him that he wasn’t all there. He was too lost in his own thoughts to hear even if Nino did have anything to say.
Fortunately, words weren’t needed for them to know exactly where they were taking their friend. They laid Sho down on the soft, dew-covered grass. While Ohno began wordlessly digging a new hole with his bare hands beside the tombstone already there, Nino went to grab the shovels they used last time. After some debate, they decided against burying him with the tarp. As much as it killed them to have to look at what had become of his body again, they knew it wouldn’t be right to say goodbye to a sheet of material rather than his actual face. They unfolded the tarp and used it only to lower him gently into the grave.
Dawn’s light was creeping up from the horizon by the time they finished Sho’s burial. Nino could hardly bring himself to listen even as Ohno poured his heart out in a final farewell. It wasn’t that he didn’t care what was being said; he simply couldn’t bring himself to intrude on the private words he knew were meant only for the deceased. But while he tried not to listen to the intimate goodbye, there was no ignoring the way his heart broke when he looked at Ohno. All trace of his previous strength was gone as he allowed his grief to be on full display. It wasn’t just that they’d lost Sho-it was that he’d failed in his promise to protect them both. Even if Sho had tricked him into believing everything would be okay, he’d still done exactly what he swore he wouldn’t do by choosing between his friends. It was a deed he didn’t begin to know how to apologise for.
Tears trickled silently down Nino’s face as he stood before the two tombstones. It was a completely different pain to what he felt when they lost Aiba. The latter’s death had been like finding himself in a world without light or hope, leaving him void of all happiness. It was like every minute was spent drowning in his own never-ending misery. Sho’s death hit him differently. A sharp and ricocheting agony seethed through him from head to toe. While the aftermath of Aiba’s demise brought with it an onslaught of overwhelming guilt for having deceived him, the loss of Sho had Nino grieving the time wasted. He regretted every second he spent fighting with his friend; they were seconds he could have used making good memories instead. He didn’t want to remember Sho for the arguments they had, but rather the amazing person he was. The brainiac with a rebellious streak, the caring if not sometimes overbearing big brother figure, the guy who always put his friends first-that was the version of Sho he wanted to engrave in his memory.
When they finally forced themselves to head back to the hotel, there was no ignoring how much emptier the whole place seemed to be now that it was just the two of them. The halls felt bigger somehow. Colder too. The echo of their footsteps was hollow as they dragged themselves up the flights of stairs to the seventh floor. Retreating to the solitude of his room, the notion of sleep didn’t even cross Nino’s mind. He’d long since grown used to this perpetual feeling of exhaustion and knew that with his chronic nightmares waiting for him every time he closed his eyes, it wasn’t worth trying anymore.
He sat on his bed holding his head in his hands. It was hard to contemplate how far they’d fallen in just a few weeks. The more he thought things over, the less sense it seemed to make. He couldn’t for the life of him comprehend how they’d been able to survive the ten of spades with all five of their lives intact and yet couldn’t even get through a measly three difficulty without losing someone precious to them. The answer was something deep down he already knew-they were incomplete; their trust had been broken and it cost them everything dear to them-though he couldn’t bring himself to accept the truth.
Nino wasn’t sure how long he spent sitting in the reflective silence of his own thoughts before the delusions appeared again. Even awake, it appeared he was incapable of escaping his nightmares. He did his best to ignore their critical gaze watching him from the corner of his room. He couldn’t face them. The knowledge that they weren’t really there, because of him, was too much to bear. He could feel himself slipping back into the familiar grips of deep despair, from which he wasn’t sure he would be strong enough to pull himself out of. As he pondered if it was even worth trying to fight off these feelings, his gaze flickered to the drawer where the knife was hidden. He stared for a moment but resisted the urge to open it. He would keep his promise to Ohno, though he wasn’t confident avoiding the blade would do anything to keep his influx of troubled thoughts at bay.
His attention was drawn back from the desk when there was a knock at his door. He looked up in time to see Ohno enter. Still looking as miserable as ever, he was holding a bottle of water and a small plate of produce from their greenhouse. He passed them to the younger guy.
“I’m not hungry,” Nino muttered.
Ohno placed his offerings on the bedside table. It didn’t escape Nino’s notice that his friend glanced at the drawer when he did, as if to confirm the knife was still there.
“You need to eat something,” Ohno sighed. “We need to keep our strength up.”
“Why?”
“Because you’ll starve otherwise.” When Nino didn’t respond, Ohno looked to him anxiously. “You can’t give up, Nino.”
“What’s the point?” Nino asked defeatedly. Sitting slouched over the way he was, he didn’t even attempt to meet his friend’s gaze. “We’re the only ones left. What does it matter if we keep going or not?”
Ohno’s heart began to beat a little faster when he heard how drained the younger sounded. He expected Nino to be in a bad place again-after Sho’s death, it took all Ohno’s remaining will just to force himself to push through his own grief. But rather than mourning, Nino simply looked unmotivated to do anything. The light was missing from his eyes, his voice holding a dull twinge. His lips seemed drawn in a permanent pout; Ohno was struggling to recall the last time he saw his once trademark smirk. Compared to the confident, impish young man he’d been friends with for years, the person in front of him appeared almost unrecognisable.
“B-Because our visas…we have to keep playing for the others, right?” There was a trace of uncertainty in Ohno’s tone, leaving his words sounding more like a question than a statement.
“Why?” When Nino finally lifted his gaze to look him in the eye, there was a sudden harshness to his features. It wasn’t his usual snark, but rather a scowl that made him seem genuinely angry. “You keep saying they would want us to live, but did you ever once hear any of them actually tell us that? Did J or Aiba-chan or Sho-chan ever say those words?”
Ohno hesitated to answer. Nino scoffed and turned away again, flopping down on his bed in a dramatic fashion.
“Like I said, there’s no point.”
“They never said it,” Ohno admitted eventually. “But the friends I knew wouldn’t have wanted us to give up.”
“You sure about that? Because the friends I knew wouldn’t have wanted us to keep suffering,” Nino retorted, his tone scathing. “If they could see the way we’re hurting now, do you really think they’d want us to keep going?”
“Yes…”
“Why? What makes you so sure that’s what they’d want?”
“Because they died for us!” Ohno snapped, raising his voice in an impassioned shout most unusual for him. “If they didn’t want us to keep living, they wouldn’t have chosen to die so that we wouldn’t.”
He barely got the words out before he lost his composure. His bottom lip started to tremble, his eyes watering as the rawness of their losses came flooding back. His gaze dropped to the floor and his voice became a shaky whisper.
“I don’t want them to have died for nothing.”
Nino stared at him, a feeling of guilt burrowing in his heart at how tired his friend suddenly looked. It was as if everything he’d been holding onto for so long had been released in that single shout, all the strength he’d been forcing himself to have for their sake vanishing to leave him completely powerless.
“I’m not ready to die yet,” Ohno murmured. “And no matter what you say to try and convince me otherwise, I don’t believe you are either.”
Letting his profound words resonate with him, Ohno walked steadily to the door, muttering something along the way about making sure he ate something. The door shut with a soft click behind him. Torn didn’t even come close to describing how Nino felt in that moment. The two sides of him were at complete war. The competitive side, the part of him that drove his love of games and filled him with an unquenchable thirst to win, was screaming at him to get up, to keep living despite everything else. Yet he could not ignore the frightened voice that was reminding him of all the consequences he’d already faced by listening to that other half. It had cost him three of his friends already and left him feeling like a scared, lonely little boy with nothing to live for.
As he was contemplating what to do, a shiver ran up his spine when the sensation of being watched returned. He dared to glance over his shoulder at the three semi-translucent figures still standing on the other side of the room. They didn’t speak; they only stared. Nino shuffled uncomfortably under their gaze. While Aiba’s sparkled with their usual optimism, Sho’s eyes were unexpectedly gentle and brimming with guidance. Jun’s were full of challenge as if silently daring him to choose a course of action then and there. Holding their gaze for but a moment, Nino shut his eyes and willed them away. He couldn’t face them right now. They were gone when he opened his eyes again but their influence continued to be felt, as strongly as if they really had been there.
He sighed under his breath. Slowly, he forced himself to sit up and grabbed the bottle of water Ohno left him. He unscrewed the cap and took a small sip as he looked to the food beside it. The thought of eating anything made his innards churn but it didn’t stop him from reaching for the smallest piece.
It was some hours later that Nino stood at the threshold of his room. It would be easy to just forget it; there was nothing stopping him from turning right around and returning to the cocoon of his seclusion so that his original plan of letting his visa expire could play out, but his feet were cemented. Staring down the empty corridor at Ohno’s room only a few doors away, he felt a pang of discomfort at the notion of them being separated. His hand fell away from the handle and he found himself moving with swift steps over to the other’s door.
Ohno looked up from his sketchpad, bewildered when Nino entered without knocking. For a moment, there was nothing but tense silence. Intrigued by the complexity of emotions he was letting show on his face as he stood in the doorway, Ohno waited for his friend to speak first.
“I don’t want to be alone,” Nino eventually murmured.
Deciding to finally take the elder up on his offer of sharing a room, he walked quietly over to the bed and climbed up beside him. He nestled into Ohno’s embrace despite any objections the latter might have had. He didn’t care if his presence was unexpected, or even unwelcome-he wasn’t going anywhere. It wasn’t just for his sanity; he was worried about Ohno too. He was already aware how tormented his friend was over what happened on that bridge but seeing him break down the way he did earlier was all the confirmation Nino required to know Ohno needed him as much as he did. It was obvious that, much like he had with Aiba, Ohno was blaming himself for how things played out. He believed it was his fault Sho fell, that he’d chosen between his friends and ultimately let Sho die by doing so. It was a feeling Nino could sympathise with-after all, if he hadn’t lost his balance, Ohno wouldn’t have needed to come to his rescue and Sho might still be alive. But as guilty as he felt for being the one to live, he really was grateful to Ohno for saving his life. He needed to make sure the latter knew it too.
“Thank you,” he whispered as he lay in the warm embrace of his friend. It was all he could think to say. He knew Ohno was terrified that he would lose him too, in or out of the games, and was doing everything he could to not only protect Nino, but to prove to him that he had a reason to keep living. All Nino could do was assure him that his wish had reached him.
Silence reigned in the darkness of the room. Nino could feel the slight tremor in the chest that was pressed against his and it was enough to confirm Ohno heard him, as was the cold sensation that trickled onto Nino’s shoulder a minute later. A dampness ran down his own cheek when he felt the arms around his waist pull him in closer.
“I’m glad you’re alive, Kazunari.” The overflowing emotion made Ohno’s voice quiver a little.
In any other situation, Nino would have laughed and poked fun at him for getting all teary, but instead he remained silent. He rubbed his eyes dry with the back of his sleeve. He was glad too, even though he still felt guilty for it. It didn’t seem right to acknowledge, let alone celebrate, his continued existence knowing it came at the cost of his friend’s life. But Ohno was right. Not Sho, nor Aiba, nor Jun would want them to torture themselves for living on in their absence.
As the heaviness of their recent loss took its toll, the acceptance of their path forward as two proving equally taxing on their emotional states, the pair slowly slipped into oblivion.
The next few days were not much easier on them as they attempted to overcome their grief together. Reluctant to let Ohno out of his sight, Nino clung to him like a second skin, not caring if the other wanted space. Ohno was all he had left and he refused to leave his side even for a moment. Like a lost puppy, he would follow him everywhere he went, not giving him breathing room even to sleep. Despite an initial irritation at his constant presence, Ohno quickly became accustomed to having Nino by his side. He seemed comforted whenever the younger draped against him or laid his head in his lap while he worked on his sketches.
But while he may have learnt to appreciate the company, the reciprocal effect was not at all what Nino hoped for. For the first day or so, it was a struggle not to give in to old demons. He felt a loneliness developing in spite of their physical proximity. Every touch felt empty, his guilty conscience sapping the joy out of each moment he spent with his friend. His lingering remorse for having survived when Sho hadn’t made it increasingly difficult to face the elder too; even if Ohno didn’t show any sign of despising him, it still felt like he was rubbing salt into his wounds as his mere presence acted as an unwelcome reminder of the choice Ohno had needed to make that night.
Despite the initial struggle, Nino pushed through his discomfort. He discarded every dark thought that crossed his mind and ignored the delusions that appeared before him. Even with the addition of Sho to their ranks making it feel like he couldn’t escape his guilt, he refused to succumb to the temptation of giving up again. It must have worked because as time went on, his pain, while still agonising, transformed from a raw wound to more of a dull and constant ache in his heart. His hallucinations became scarcer as he surrendered himself wholly to the company of his remaining friend, granting himself permission to enjoy what he had left instead of dwelling on all he’d lost.
Although they had found their rhythm again, there was noticeable tension between them whenever there was any mention of the games. The thought of entering into another unknown challenge had them both incredibly agitated. Nino, especially, couldn’t help panicking as his imagination ran rampant with visions of all that could go wrong should his skills as a gamer fail him yet again. He shadowed his friend as they made their way into the dark cityscape, keeping their eyes peeled for the first directions due to appear.
“You sure you’re up for this?” Ohno asked warily.
Nino hid his dread behind a smirk. “Scared, Oh-chan?”
“No,” Ohno snapped. A flicker of unease crossed his gaze a second later. “Just wondering if it isn’t more dangerous to play together these days.”
Nino would be lying if he said the thought hadn’t crossed his mind too. But as scared as he was to lose Ohno the way he lost his other friends, he knew there would be no way in hell he could concentrate in a game on his own. Not knowing what struggles the other was facing or if he was even still alive would be too much to handle.
“As if you can get rid of me that easily,” he said, his tone playful despite the compassionate glint in his eyes as he gazed at the elder. He slung his arm around his shoulders. “We both know you wouldn’t stand a chance without my talents.”
Ohno looked to him, bemused. Then he chuckled. While his apprehension lingered, he was pleased to hear Nino sounding more like himself than he had in weeks. It was a side to him he’d sorely missed of late and even if it was just a brazen front, he didn’t care. He was just glad to have his friend back.
The smell of rain hung in the air as they followed the arrows to their next arena. Nino frowned when he recognised the route they were taking. It was one he’d come to know better in recent weeks. He exchanged an uneasy look with Ohno, who also seemed to realise where they were headed. The urban landscape gave way to a more natural scene until finally, the park itself came into view. Nino and Ohno found themselves hesitating at the border. The familiarity of the arena they’d arrived at was undeniably unpleasant. They looked behind them, scouring the horizon for any other arenas in the vicinity. When they saw none, they gazed back at each other. Knowing they had no choice didn’t do anything to ease their concerns. Taking a deep breath, they stepped over the border and prayed what lay in wait for them wouldn’t be as bad as they feared.
The boys weren’t sure whether to be relieved or not when the arrows led them in a different direction to where their friends’ graves were situated. Over the ridge, they found themselves face to face with their playground for the evening. It was not at all what they were expecting. There was nothing ominous about the pretty set-up ahead of them. A string of fairy lights, not unlike the ones they’d hung on their hotel rooftop, were strung above a picnic table in the middle of the parklands. It looked almost romantic, like the venue for a young couple’s first date.
But for all the unthreatening qualities of the arena, there was no denying the way their hearts skipped a beat when they saw only two phones lying on the table. They tentatively picked up one each. Nino wasn’t surprised when they were registered into the game, only for there to be no countdown or chance for other players to arrive.
“Game: Iron Arms,” their phones declared. “Difficulty: Two of Hearts.”
Swallowing nervously, the friends looked to each other in dread. A hearts game was the last thing they were hoping for.
“Rules: Players will compete head-to-head in an arm-wrestling match. Clear condition: Once players have locked hands, they must not let go until someone’s arm has hit the table. Players may use whatever strategy they wish to win. The player who fails to pin their opponent’s arm will be eliminated.”
Nino couldn’t breathe. His fearful gaze flew to Ohno, scaling his toned arms to his broad shoulders. It was the worst possible situation. Not only was it a hearts game designed for only one winner, but it wasn’t even a fair playing field. His friends had done their fair share of arm-wrestles in the past; while Nino had held his weakest title steady for a good five years, the only one who’d ever beaten Ohno in their group was Aiba. A voice inside his head was taunting him that he should have listened to his friend and split up tonight. At least then he wouldn’t have forced Ohno into murdering him.
“What do we do?” the elder choked out. “There has to be a way for us to both walk away from this.”
Still shaken, Nino shook his head. He knew his friend was hoping for him to think of some miracle solution, but his mind was blank. Arm-wrestling was a simple contest-there was one winner and one loser. The only thing he could think to do was challenge the arm-wrestle with both arms, though the strategy wasn’t without its flaws. The awkwardness of the position would surely entangle their limbs, to the point where he didn’t even know if it would be possible to pin either arm. If that was true, considering the rule of not being allowed to release each other’s hands, it was a tactic that would potentially kill them both. He didn’t get Ohno’s hopes up by voicing his half-baked solution.
Sighing hopelessly, they took their seats opposite each other at the picnic table. Nino did a doubletake at the hand his friend offered him.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Ohno looked confused by his question. “Starting the game? We have to, right?”
“Not that,” Nino snapped. “Your arm. I’m left-handed, remember. It’s not enough that you’re stronger than me-you have to play your dominant arm against my weaker one? How is that fair?”
“I can’t play with my left arm. It was mauled, in case you’ve forgotten,” Ohno reminded him sharply. “I’d hardly call it fair to play your dominant arm against my crippled one.”
“So just because of that I should let you have the advantage?”
“I’ve seen you play with your right hand, Nino,” Ohno scowled. His voice dropped to a mutter when he added, “And it’s not like it’ll change the outcome anyway.”
Whether he was supposed to hear it or not, his comment ignited a competitive spark in Nino, one he hadn’t truly felt since their early games. His blood boiled and he clenched his teeth, his glare burning into the elder.
“Then humour me,” he snarled, extending his left arm. “If you truly believe it won’t change the outcome, what does it matter if we level the playing field a little?”
Ohno clicked his tongue in annoyance even as he offered up his left arm reluctantly. When Nino went to take it, the former pulled back before he could.
“Let’s play fair, okay?” His gaze was firm, his expression unyielding as he stared the younger down.
Nino fought to keep his own expression unreadable despite the flicker of irritation he felt. He should have known Ohno would be dubious about the rules of the game. Truth be told, he knew there was some truth to his friend’s remark. Battling it out with their left arms didn’t give him any more confidence that he would win. Even with his injury and his non-dominant hand, Nino knew Ohno was still a great deal stronger than him. If he was to stand any real chance, he would need to use strategy over strength. Feeling his friend’s steely glare watching him, awaiting his answer, he begrudgingly agreed to play by traditional match rules. He immediately regretted his decision. He’d hoped the freedom to cheat that this game allowed would give him better odds of winning, but now he’d essentially doomed himself to what was likely going to be a swift defeat.
“May the best player win,” said Ohno.
“I will,” Nino replied, clenching his hand tighter than necessary and causing his friend to wince a little.
Their phones chimed as the game officially began. Immediately, Nino felt an intense pressure against his arm. He inhaled sharply as the match was nearly lost in the first two seconds. He barely managed to keep his arm from being pinned straight away. His expression began to lose composure only a few seconds in, the strain of his muscles sending agony ricocheting all the way up his neck and down into the reaches of his lower back. He lifted himself slightly from the table as he attempted to put his entire weight behind his push-back.
When he dared to glance up at his friend, he felt a flush of rage when he saw Ohno was not yet breaking a sweat. He didn’t even seem to be pushing. He looked like he was just sitting there waiting for Nino to make his move, with the exception of the slightly more defined muscles in his arms and his perfectly straight posture being the only clues to indicate that he was actually engaged in the competition at all. While he knew in his heart that Ohno was deliberately holding back, most likely to spare himself the inevitable pain of having to kill his friend, the blasé expression he wore only infuriated Nino. He pushed that much harder, gritting his teeth as he did everything humanly possible to shift his companion’s steel-like arm. His efforts were in vain and as his strength began to dwindle little by little, Ohno made his move. He applied a bit more pressure, observing closely as Nino’s elbow slipped back across the table.
As he watched his arm creep closer and closer to the wood, Nino began to panic. His frantic gaze darted between his friend’s face and his wounded shoulder. One slip was all he needed. He cursed himself for even hoping that the elder might succumb to the pain of his straining stitches and give him the opening needed to win, but he couldn’t help it. Face-to-face with his own mortality, he realised now more than ever that Ohno was right. He wasn’t ready for his life to end just yet. He was desperate to think of some tactic that might help him turn the tables. There was nothing in the rules against cheating; in fact, it seemed to be encouraged. Anything went as long as their hands remained connected. Nino knew it was dishonourable and unsportsmanlike to even consider breaking his promise of a fair game, but he couldn’t for the life of him believe that their current conditions of play were fair either.
Panicked and backed into a corner, he gave into temptation. His brain raced to come up with a strong tactic. Using both arms jumped to mind but he knew that if he did, Ohno would surely use both too. He could go on the verbal offence; his friend had always been fairly easy to manipulate, so Nino didn’t think it would be too hard to come up with something to say that would distract him long enough to gain the advantage. Then again, he could feel his arm losing strength by the second and had no idea how much longer he could hold out. If only there was a way to make his friend lose his concentration-a split second was all he needed to pin him, Nino was sure of it.
Blocking out every shred of integrity he had for the sake of self-preservation, Nino stared at Ohno hard. He kept his gaze steady as he waited for his chance. Soon, Ohno sensed he was being watched and dared to meet Nino’s eyes. As soon as he did, Nino blew.
Ohno recoiled at the burst of air that flew into his eyes. He blinked multiple times, the strength in his arm wavering slightly but not nearly enough to allow Nino to get the upper hand. As he recovered from the shock of the gust, indignation flooded his expression. He glared daggers at Nino.
“I thought we agreed we would play fair!” he growled.
While he did feel guilty for cheating, especially as it hadn’t even worked, Nino refused to let it show on his face. “The rules said anything goes.”
“And you said you wouldn’t do anything underhanded!”
Nino didn’t respond. He merely continued to push against the arm that was refusing to budge. Ohno’s gaze darkened.
“Fine, if you’re going to play dirty, I’ll play to win.”
Before Nino even had the chance to register the threat, he felt a powerful force against his arm. As Ohno pushed with his full strength, no longer holding back, it was all Nino could do to keep his arm from snapping. He swore loudly when he felt his bones creaking under the strain that was suddenly thrust upon him. He grappled to regain control. His right hand flew to his own aid, pushing back with all his might. The veins in both his neck and arms were pulsating under the intense strain Ohno was putting him under. He’d thought it deplorable when the idea first came to mind but he was seriously regretting not taking the opportunity to punch Ohno in the shoulder to debilitate him. Now, it was too late.
Clenching his jaw, Nino threatened to bite clean through his tongue. Pushing back against the other was impossible-it was taking all the strength and concentration he had just to keep his arm where it was. But despite using everything he had, it was not enough. Ohno was able to hold steady despite the additional hand pushing at him. Not even his mind games were enough to sway his steely focus.
“What are you waiting for?” Nino spat. “Get it over with!”
Ohno’s icy gaze glared straight through him, seeming to not even hear him. But if the way he continued to force Nino’s arms closer to the bench was any indication, it didn’t matter either way. Nino honestly couldn’t tell if he was being deliberately cruel in drawing out his inevitable victory or simply taking his time to ensure he didn’t fall for any of the younger’s last-ditch efforts to reverse the outcome. Not that Nino felt there was any point in trying anymore.
“We both know you’re going to win this, so just do it already!” he shouted when the agony became too much to bear any longer. “Kill me!”
It was this cry that wrenched Ohno out of his deep trance. He blinked and his concentration was lost. He looked sharply at Nino, but the younger wasn’t paying him any attention. He was practically standing at this point. His whole face was flushed red and scrunched up in exertion as he tried for one last all-for-nothing attempt to win. Ohno could feel him applying as much pressure as he could, throwing his entire body weight behind his efforts, but still the arm refused to budge. But while Ohno’s limb remained as steady as stone, his expression wavered.
He felt a lump form in his throat, a hollowness burrowing in his chest as he faced the situation in front of him. Nino was fighting so hard; despite everything he may have said about believing his loss was guaranteed, he was still refusing to give up until the very last moment. They were not the actions of someone who wanted to die. It confirmed what Ohno had known and hoped for all along. For all his grief-stricken suicidal thoughts and talk about giving up, Nino was still choosing life.
Kill me. His plea echoed over again, the apparent accusation behind it ringing in Ohno’s mind. Kill me like you killed the others.
Ohno recalled the frightened look on Aiba’s face as he begged for them to stop deceiving one another, minutes before he threw the game to put an end to it himself. He remembered the sadness in Jun’s recording as he confessed to feeling like a burden to them; it echoed alongside flashes of the younger’s morose expression the day he came to his room to make amends before their first hearts game. He recalled the words Sho said to him before he fell, his claim that he couldn’t save them both falling on deaf ears despite it being true.
The memories continued to flash in his mind, that sense of duty he’d always felt towards them burning bright in his heart. The weight of everything he was reflecting on brought about an intense wave of emotion that caused his voice to break.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you all. I’m sorry for Sho-kun, and for Aiba-chan.” He trailed off as the swell of nostalgia nearly left him speechless. He kept his arm stable as he faced Nino, watching him closely for any sign that he was listening. “I’m sorry for Matsujun too.”
Taken aback by his unexpected atonement, Nino lost focus on the game for a split second as he met his friend’s gaze. A half smile played on Ohno’s lips when he saw the confusion on his face. Before Nino could even think, his arm was thrust downwards onto the table in one swift motion. The impact was softened by the arm beneath his own. Startled by what just happened, Nino looked down at their hands. He had pinned Ohno-no, Ohno had made Nino pin him.
Stunned, Nino stared at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. His gaze moved nervously between his friend’s face and the position of their hands. His expression flooded with sudden fright as the realisation sunk in.
“No,” he stammered. “No, no, no!”
He tried to lift their arms back off the table to reverse the result, despite knowing the verdict had already been made.
"It’s okay,” Ohno whispered. He kept their hands connected and gave Nino’s a gentle squeeze.
“Why?” Nino wailed, a noticeable catch in his throat as an onslaught of emotion came rushing to the surface all at once. “You said you weren’t ready to die.”
Ohno held his gaze. There was a complex blend of emotions shining true in the elder’s eyes-distress, melancholy, frustration-but above all, there was a sense of content. He knew exactly what was coming but it was as if he felt no fear for his demise, only that Nino would have to bear witness to it.
“I’m ready now,” he answered simply. With a soft and honest smile, he added, “Live for us.”
Finally hearing the words, Nino felt a pang in his heart like never before. It was as if someone had reached straight into his chest and stolen his soul from within him. He shook his head desperately, clutching Ohno’s hand tighter. But the latter just continued to smile and whispered those same words again.
As if knowing precisely that his time was up, Ohno shut his eyes and leant backwards. A soft sigh escaped his upturned lips a second before the red light shot from the sky. His hand slipped from Nino’s grasp, their connection severing. As his form fell lifeless to the ground, Nino’s anguished cries thundered in the silence of the night.