user946468

[user946468]

Hii, I noticed that you take requests! I was wondering if maybe you could write about reader finding out that Chishiya got shot in season2 ep7 and how she would react when she finds him? Thank you so much if you write it!

Can you see me now? | Chishiya Shuntaro x Reader Oneshot

Helloo! Thank you so much for the request, I hope it meets your expectations<3 Also I apologize, i got carried away lol, It also might be a little different than you anticipated - but regardless I hope you like!

Fluff than Angst mixed with Fluff than Angst. WC - 5,403 words

Disclaimer, this is not connected to my ongoing fic so the reader will act differently and the readers story line with change -nonetheless, please enjoy! (Also this might be out of character?? Idk i tried)

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When clothed pads of feet made their way down the hall you shot a quick smile over your shoulder, each of your hands carrying a warm plate. Chishiya nodded silently back in response, he never did fully stare you in the eye's during the morning. He stopped for a second, leaning into the door frame so he could tug his sweats back down over his ankle - it must had rid up his calf sometime in the night.

Huffing in amusement, you waited for him to take a seat at the table before pushing the plate of food towards him.

You meet Chishiya during the Jack of Hearts game.

Or rather, you knew him through Ippei.

You had joined the Hearts game far earlier than necessary, it was the first blimp you came across while running from the array of bullets and reluctantly, with tried limbs and a desperate need for coverage - joined the game. The stone walls were cold, and your jaw clenched when the cells bars came into view - everything about the situation was eerie, the hovering couple that eyed your every step just made it worse.

For awhile it was just you and them.

You stood on the opposite end of the floor.

One by one the group increased in size, everyone very different than the next - observing the situation as time passed is what pushed you to introduce yourself to Ippei, he was shuffling his weight on each foot and stood alone in a dark corner, eyeing everyone like they were a snake about to strike out.

Poor kid looked like he was about to bolt for the door or pass out at any moment.

You were naturally an anxious person, and maybe that's why you sympathized with him enough to talk to him - or maybe his skittish behavior was making yourself increasingly nervous.

He was shy, and timid - and he seemed to appreciate your appearance more than you anticipated. And so you stayed, killing your boredom and the mans nerves simultaneously - he talked about his animals back home, you shared details about yours and encouraged him to talk about his hobbies he deemed were too "childish" to share.

You left some time in between, after Ippei lightheartedly declined your invitation you sought out the building - multiple gendered bathrooms, dozens of cells, and a room stocked with in-date food. When you came back with a large bag of cookies, Ippei was talking with someone.

Someone new.

He had shoulder length bleached hair, and dark hooded eye's, so much so they almost looked pitch black at first glance - and he was staring at you. Cause Ippei was motioning at you to join them, and for a moment you almost walked away. He was a lot more intimidating than Ippei, and the difference in dynamic mixed with the clear fact that he had to come up to Ippei first is what worried you.

And yet you still moved to their direction, and you still held out the opened bag towards Ippei, and he still took it with multiple thanks, because of course he did, and you even held the package out to the blond. A silent "please don't kill me" undertone followed your actions.

With a shallow breath, he hummed and grabbed a small handful - much to your surprise, and thankfully didn't threaten you in any way. Who would have known cookies could save your life?

And that was it. For the remainder of the game you two passed cookies around and didn't kill each other. Not when people grouped up, slowly taking turns in betraying each other, not when you stood silently by Ippei's cell, never daring to look in- Chishiya even had the decency to stand next to you for a few minutes, before turning around and walking away without either of you sharing a word.

When the game ended you followed him silently.

"..Can I come with you?"

"No."

And yet still, your footsteps followed behind his in sync, he knew you were there without having to turn around.

"Please?"

Chishiya sighed, "If your going to follow me anyways, why ask?"

"Common courtesy."

You picked up on the undertone of re-direction Chishiya tried to send your way- taking sharp turns and even pointed out a flock of pigeons that seemed to enjoy humans more than most- but you were in no rush. You stayed behind and stared at the pigeons for a while until you got bored, and until Chishiya was out of sight to start following his fresh footprints made in the dusty road.

When you saw he was rummaging around a convenience store, quite close to where he left you, you deemed he couldn't have minded you following him all that much if he stayed in a vicinity he knew you could find him at.

And that's how you ended up staying together, with Chishiya letting you tug him around to find a vacant house next to a clean stream, you gracing the house with a generator that works with solar power. If Chishiya was honest, it was about as convenient as the Beach, and considering the lack of Niragi - maybe even better. And, possibly, that's why he stayed.

With a high eyebrow he glanced between you and the plate set in front of him, completely un-moving he asked, "What's this?"

You wanted to roll your eyes. It was, by far, not the first time you've cooked for the man sense you've started to share the house together. It's not like you were doing this out of the goodness of your heart, for one it would be a shame to not use the house for what's its worth, and two it took your mind off.. well everything. And without fail, every time you've presented him with a plate, or a bowl, or a cup of coffee - he always acts likes you just placed a bomb in front of him.

Setting your own plate down, you sit across from him and make an attempt to match his unimpressed expression, you accidentally (very purposeful) kick at his shin under the table. "Sprinkle pancakes."

"I know that," he grumbles out after a inhale of a hiss, you are given a sharp glare, "But why?"

You shrug aimlessly, "You lack whimsy in your life."

Chishiya accepted that answer, all though he huffed audibly enough to make it known he was displeased by it.

Chishiya doesn't fully understand you, you both knew that - and your not sure if that was entirely a bad thing. He questioned why you cooked for him, why you followed him, why you would willingly live with him when you would obviously be fine alone, I mean you've gotten this far by yourself haven't you? And all he got in response were shrugs, or half assed answers that didn't really mean anything - and if you were honest, your still haven't figured that out yourself. Not why you helped him, but why you helped him specifically.

What you did know is that you didn't like being alone - which you did tell Chishiya, and he wasn't bad company to have - so you decided to keep him around. After all, it's not like you left him much choice.

Through a mouth full of pancake he muttered behind a napkin, "I'm going out today."

You eye'd Chishiya for a moment, as non compliant as he acted around your cooking he always seemed to have a large appetite for it. Cleaning his plate every time without fail, finishing it in the same ten minutes you put it down - and at least five of those minutes are spent making sure his mouth and hands are as clean as possible. At least if you have leftovers you know they're never going to waste.

"Thank god," you say, "It's getting boring around here."

"You're not going."

You scoff, Chishiya has a knack of not wanting you to go anywhere with him, no matter the circumstance.

"Chishiya, don't be so prissy." You scold, pointing an accusing fork his way - your insult didn't stop him from taking another bite, drenched so heavily in syrup you scrunch your nose up. It can't even taste like a pancake at that point.

"You're a hassle."

“Your ass is a hassle,” you retaliate, and when Chishiya stood up with an empty plate and walked passed you to the kitchen - you waited for the perfect moment before snapping a kitchen towel at him - just a little too far down his torso to even be consider his back anymore.

When he looked back you were innocently chewing down your last bite and staring at him questioningly, a hand towel laid limply on the other side of the room. The speed Chishiya spun around in was almost comical, your not sure your ever seen Chishiya move that fast willingly sense you've meet him.

"You're also childish."

Through his glare you could swear you saw just a flicker of a smile, a huff of amusement.

You let out an airy chuckle, "Can't deny that," A huff escapes your lips when you slump into your chair, you pause with your cup inches from your mouth and scan Chishiya.

"But you know, I need to go." You state, "I need a restock, and by the looks of it you could do with a bar of soap or two."

You knew what you were doing, and he knew it too - self care and whatever D-I-Y mechanical shit Chishiya was looking for were on opposite sides of the mall, therefor whenever you ran out, he was more willing to let you come along. Not that you need his permission, or that you'll listen to him anyway.

Chishiya dwelled for a few seconds - you could only assume wonder if you coming along or you complaining about him saying no was worse - although he's taking longer to contemplate than usual, and it made you wonder if this time he was actually being serious - but he nodded before you could take it back.

You tilt your head slightly in thought.

"You could do with an exorcist," he mumbles, taking your empty plate from the table, he looks thoroughly done when you huff out a sarcastic, "Wow, unbelievable, and here I thought we were friends." You decided to keep quiet after that, considering he looked a few seconds away from throwing your plate back at your head - or maybe that was always how his face looked.

While Chishiya made his way back to the hallway, you noticed he used both his hands to cover his backside from you - you had to hide a laugh behind your hand. For the sake of your life.

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The street laid empty, bare before you. No people, no animals, no man made noises - nothing except Chishiya and your own footsteps. And so you let him appreciate it, the only time you spoke was when you asked earnest questions or were responding back to his little quips towards you.

"Do you always walk this fast?"

"Obviously your warm, your wearing a jacket in eighty degree weather. I didn't point it out cause I thought it was just another one of your weird quirks."

"Can you not walk straight?"

"Why are you touching everything? Can't keep your hands to yourself?"

Most of the time you wonder why Chishiya even bothers - what does he get out of staying with you? If you know what your looking for you can find a duplicate generator, there are many other open stream and vacant homes to pick and yet he stays in the one you choose - with you - and engages in conversation and eats the food you make.

You have given him multiple chances at leaving, as persistent and prodding as you can be you both new it was mocked-up for your own amusement and that you wouldn't cry or beg for him to stay - he knew that, and yet he doesn't leave. And maybe it's just one of those things you don't ask aloud, and so you never have.

Twirling a small flower between your fingers you lead a few steps in front of Chishiya, while walking backwards - you had asked him to throw something at you if there was anything behind you just encase, after all you knew he wouldn't have taken it up if you just asked him to just tell you instead.

You squinted at the plant while holding it up towards him, pearly white petals that matched his jacket and textured line that matched his hair, you smiled - yup, that's the one.

"What are you doing?"

"I got you something."

You jogged the short distance and held your hand out, his eye's followed to where your fell - his nose scrunched up.

Chishiya held it between two fingers, dangling by a single petal he asked, "What am I supposed to do with this?"

You scowl at him, how ungrateful, "Sleep with it, tape it to your mirror, braid it into your hair-" you sarcastically remark, one foot after the other you stepped backwards, "-or you could be a normal person and just keep it."

"Why would I keep-"

As soon as your heel felt the jagged fall of your foot you knew what was coming, your body instinctively let out an 'oofh' sound when falling ass first down onto hard concrete.

You hissed sharply.

A pointed rock dug harshly into your skin, it prodded so hard into your muscle your sure it left an indent and Chishiya - the bastard - laughed.

A real laugh.

The first you've ever heard come out of the man, so much heavier than his usually light huffs of breath he lets out - and of course, it was at that.

Chishiya plucked a petal off the flower, and made an exaggerated 'throw' motion of it at your fallen figure.

"You're a bitch. Did you know that?”

Chishiya shrugged, a light shake of his shoulders still lingering from his laugh.

You followed up with strings of cuss words, having to help yourself up and rub out the pain in your hip - before turning around you notice Chishiya's finger loosen around the stem.

"If you drop that I'm killing myself."

Chishiya snorts, "Promise?"

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From the first gun shot you already had a grasp of who it involved.

You were still inside the mall, searching around for more toothpaste and gauze - you even stocked up on a few unscented bar soaps to humor Chishiya. He had left you as soon as you too set foot in the mall, turning a sharp corner and mumbling out a "If you need me, don't."

By the time your brain even registered his comment he was too far gone to hear you comment back, you had to retaliate by flipping the back of his head off. Not as satisfactory, but it'll do.

It was uncannily quiet - just like always, and there was an uncomfortable tense of your body when the shot rang through the air. It echoed around the mall is waves, a mock sound in your ear - It made you stop your hand mind air, and for a second you didn't breath. A single shot, nothing like the kind of spades - your jaw tensed painfully.

A minute of silence, than another, and a another-

A second shot, a third, a fourth- you craned your neck to the window, to your irritation it was completely useless, covered in layers of muck and mold - your mind raced.

What were the chances Chishiya was stupid enough to get in a gun fight?

If you were wrong about him being involved, would you be willing to putting yourself at risk for the chance of his life being on the line? You thought back to his comment, if you need me, don't, did that also apply to you? Would he look down on you for reassuring yourself that he was okay?

Your eye's danced around the empty room, anxious and heavy breathed - in a split second you decided that it wouldn't matter what Chishiya thought about you if he was dead.

With heavy foot steps you jogged through the store, and out into the central building- faster than you would ever admit to him - and scanned the area hopefully. If Chishiya wasn't involved there would be a high chance he would wan't to be, or at the very least watch - you swallowed heavily, and tried to remind yourself to relax your jaw. The pounding of your lungs go unnoticed.

Chishiya wasn't here.

By the time you hesitantly peer around the entrance - hidden enough to jump back if you were threaten by another round of shots- it was silent, there was no sound to be made out, just the wind whistling in your ears. No heavy gunshot, no loud commotions, just.. nothing.

And if it wasn't for the sight of two figures, crouched down a few yards away you would have thought that you were going insane - the gunshots a fragment of your imagination- hell, in that moment you wouldn't be surprised if someone told you that Chishiya was too.

You let yourself slip from behind the frame, just far enough to squint blindly at the two. Neither of them were blond, which was a good sign - and your pulse should have calmed at that or the weight should have at least eased off your shoulders but instead it only made you glance around more frantically, throat clenching around itself tightly.

This was not the time to be playing fucking hide-and-seek.

Where the hell was he?

Unconsciously you took a few steps forwards, trying to seeking out every inch of ground before you - eyes scattered on around the road, at cars, in buildings- "Aw, shit."

For a moment, you were more worried you snapped your neck from how fast you turned your head rather than the man in front of you - although it was very short lived. Crumpled and bloody, fresh wounds mixed in with old scars that ran along his body - was he even properly alive?

The thought of helping him crossed your mind, although you didn't know who he was or why he was sprawled on in the middle of Tokyo street you did know that you had gauze - and a lot of it.

You paused to toe the gun away from him carefully.

He eye'd you for a second, than followed your line of sight to his wounds. He tilted his head back, just enough to stare into your eye's, a slight scowl burned on his lips- there was something familiar in his eyes. A certain vacant dullness in his stare at briefly reminded you of Chishiya - the mans scowl depend, dared you to say something. About his gunshot wound or his scars you didn't know.

Trying to find the words to say your head nodded, an almost frantic side to side motion, "Uh-"

A firm but uncharacteristically soft call of your name, and if you had time to decipher it you would almost say it sounded desperate. Throat muscles tensed as you swung your head around, tendons straining and yet you couldn't care - if you kept this up your head might as well just fall off.

"I would get away from him if I was you." Chishiya called, laboring his limbs to to try and sit up - his elbow shook underneath him before collapsing all together, he would have headbutted the ground if the boy with black hair wasn't holding him up.

A dark gradient of a hole bled through his shoulder.

"You know that piece of shit?" His voice was broken, raw and scratchy - his sentence broke in the middle, words coming out though gargles - and yet he seemed determine to finish it.

"Unfortunately," You croak - and after the initial shock still of your limps your feet dragged you forwards on autopilot, eye's that never left the pit that hallowed through his chest. You blindly searched through your jacket pocket - it was so unnatural to see Chishiya in such a state, one that left him vulnerable and raw, one you thought you would never get too see - you pulled out a large wad of bondage wrap, inhaling through your mouth when you felt your nose has become too restrictive of air.

It was even weirder having Chishiya openly stare at you while like that.

"Long time no see."

It was spoken through a breath, airy and light - his throat barley vibrating enough to be making any sounds at all. He was looking at you, or some place on you, you couldn't tell - he was bleeding and it was runing through the seeps of a hand and staining his jacket, his favorite jacket and you know it'll be a pain to scrub off and your don't remember the last time you took a full breath and Chishiya hissed when you tightly held the gauze to his wound - the girl moved her hand early on when she saw your attention to the wrap not touching the ground. What good will he be too you if he dies from an infection later on?

"Shut the fuck up."

"You this rude to every dying man?"

You held the gauze tighter, how could he be joking right now? With your hands desperately trying to hold his life intact? You glared at him through heavy lidded eyes, "Chishiya."

He grumbled something about you being 'no fun' under his breath, but hey, at least he was saving it.

"You're y/n?"

It was the girl, she had soft eyes and bloodied hands - blood of Chishiya's, warm, fresh blood that spilled onto the gauze, gauze that laid fisted in your hands - you blinked dryly. Your eyes stung and yet nothing was coming out of them - you swore it felt like someone was prodding around your brain from the inside.

You nodded silently, you didn't want to know how she knew your name or where she heard it from.

"You're doing this all wrong you know," Chishiya mumbles, his head still laid limply on the ground but now it was tilted at an angle he could see you at, "At this rate I'll be dead any minute now."

The word 'dead' bounced around in your mind like a ping pong ball, hitting each nerve that shortens your breath, and now you couldn't even come up with a snarky reply - you were half minded to tell him to shut up again, to save his breath - but all you could do was desperately push down a little harder on his wound, stack the gauze a little taller.

"Chishiya, I don't know what I'm doing, I-" You followed the strings of blood that fell in thick drops down is torso, they way they seeped through the bright clothes and the way his eye's seemed to soften ever so slightly around the edges wen you gave him a pleading look.

He couldn't die here, not like this, not by your inexperienced hands - not in a way so far from how anyone would've imagined it.

Chishiya huffed, but it wasn't malicious, "First off, you could calm down, I heard breathing helps-"

"Run!"

Guns shoots fire through the empty street, this time multiple - this time you knew it was the king of spades. Your flight or fight instinct kicked a small, fleeting thought to run, to save yourself, to shield from the bullets - but you ears were already ringing, and your hands were already stained and you knew you could escape - but Chishiya?

An amused grunt turned into one of surprise, than into one of pain - and you had to shift your entire body weight to lift Chishiya to sit up, one hand still occupied with putting pressure on his wound. You felt fidgeted, and you knew you were still slightly dazed but it didn't stop you from trying to shift Chishiya to hide behind a rusted car - one near a narrow alleyway that you thought would barricade the too of you.

Someone helped, weather it was the boy or the girl you didn't pay any mind too, but you mentally thanked whoever it was - maybe you shouldn't have been feeding him all those fatty meals after all. The position was awkward, and pulled at your joints in ways you didn't know your body could go - but it worked, a narrow miss of bullets shot a little too close to your head.

After some time the person left, and you clumsily pulled off your jacket to try and help aid Chishiya just a little more - thankfully when you glanced his way his eye's were still open, drowsily - but opened nonetheless. With a calculated pressure you knew would stop the bleeding, and yet not hard enough to harm him any worse, you pushed with one arm - another round of bullets, you feel beside him. A mix of mental and physical exhaustion assisted in pushing you down.

Another round of bullets, you brought your knees to your chest, a scream, you covered your head with your free arm - you were practically cuddled up to Chishiya, fresh blood stained your pants.

None of you spoke, both of you waited.

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You were alive.

The both of you were, and finally it was quiet. The same quiet that flooded around you just hours before, when Chishiya wasn't bleeding out and you were of sound mind. You felt stitched in positions, never removing your head from you lap and staring blankly into the small shadow that loomed under you, your jaw itched with tightness - and whenever Chishiya's breath got a little too shallow, too lifeless for your liking you pressed a little harder and waited for his breath to hitch - this time it didn't.

Your breath caught in your throat when you looked up - his head lolled to the side, eye's closed and chest unmoving - and you panicked. Blinking rapidly you snapped in front of his face - no response - you shook his shoulder harder than you knew he would let you while alive- no response - you palm etched out, coming down with a loud 'wack' as it hit his face, his lead shifted to the other side lazily. No response.

Your nails dug crescents into your palm and you tried to swallow but your throat wouldn't let you, you were just vaguely aware of the small huff of desperation you let out before moving to strick your palm back out, his name on the tip of your tongue-

"Ow."

A heavy breath feel from your mouth, one you weren't aware you were holding.

"You asshole!" You snarled, falling back on your heels. "I thought you were dead."

Chishiya's eyes fluttered open passively, "Odd reaction to a dead man."

If he wasn't already on the brink of death you would've killed him.

You finger curled tighter into a fist, palms still lingering with the force of the slap - dejected you fell back beside him, even with your hand covering your nose your small sniffle could be heard - in fact it seemed to be intensified by the open area. Hair hiding your face, you looked away. Stupid fucking alleyway.

"Are you crying?"

Chishiya really didn't need his ego to be boosted any higher than necessary.

"No." You mutter out, because you weren't, and your eye's were dry and your nose was fine, thank you very much. And even if your breath came out unevenly, and your heart hammered through your rib cage and pulsed with every flow of blood - he didn't need to know that. And he shouldn't know that because he wouldn't care, so why do you?

"It's a perfectly normal reaction by medical standers - in fact it's actual healthier too cry, if we wan't to go into-"

With the same palm that etched across his face you covered his mouth, "Too much talking, not enough breathing."

He stopped for a moment, and just when you were about to pull back and let his airway breath freely a slick, moist feeling ran along your middle finger - it took you a second to pull back, eyebrows furred and confused before you stared at your wet palm in horror.

"Ohmygodohmygod," you searched frantically, brain scrambled and confused as what the hell you were supposed to do with that.

"I think the blood loose has gotten to you," You note, wiping your hand along his pant leg aggressively, Chishiya stared back indifferently.

"You told me to breath while blocking a vital airway."

You glare at him, "You have a nose."

Chishiya lifted him shoulders aimlessly.

You didn’t take the time to answer, instead cupping around your blooded jacket that laid across his chest - the blood subsided vaguely, but not enough to make you any less anxious. There was still free flowing blood, and every time Chishiya moved he let out a groan - which with Chishiya, meant that it sent shock waves throughout his whole body.

“What do you think doctor, am I going to make it?”

You squinted at him aggravated, although you couldn’t deny the slightly engaging tone he held, “Why is it that only when you’re dying you have the urge to talk to me?”

“Funnily enough, right now is the only time I think I can tolerate your presence.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, deciding to ignore the underline of his words - after all, that was the closets thing to a compliment you think Chishiya is capable of. With a light touch you fling the sleeve of your jacket around his neck, creating a solid nest on-top of the wound, “Fatigued and half unconscious? How charming.”

He, decidingly, ignored you. “I’m a doctor.”

This made you pause, “An influence from my father, really. About the only influence he ever taught me.”

Chishiya’s eyes scanned the sky, jumping for cloud to cloud - and you couldn’t tell where his head was at. Where was this coming from? A slight furrow deepened between your eyebrows, and not to discourage him you continued to work your way around his gunshot.

“It was a futile attempt. I felt the same before as I did after.” Chishiya paused to drop his gaze to you, “People like you irk me. Simple as that. I find your selflessness stupid, and your optimism childish - and becoming a doctor didn’t change that.”

For a moment you thought he was joking - ready to roll you eyes and push your jacket down a little harder - but with a hardened look you realized he was serious. Chishiya looked as though he just asked you your favorite color, calm and collected and entirely raw.

And though his front was put together, carefully crafted like a jigsaw puzzle, your noticed the way his shoulders tightened back like he was bracing to be pushed away, his own fingers crawling to your jacket in hand - he expected you to let go, to hit him or yell, and maybe thats what he wanted.

But you were stubborn, and you would hate to give Chishiya what he wanted.

Heavily sighing, you let your weight fall back into him, still being cautious of his side.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

You weren’t shocked to hear it. Disappointed? Maybe, but purely out of fact he tried something so obscure to urge you away - to deny a hand trying to help - and he thought it would be that easy.

You confirm an, “Okay.”

It was silent.

Chishiya breathing heaved a little more heavily than before, but his body loosened - you never knew he was tensed in the first place. Your breathing wasn’t any better - you swore a game of diamonds gave you asthma, making you breath spores for almost an hour straight - and even now if felt like they were blindly trying to claw there way out of your throat in every direction.

You felt a slight shift behind your shoulder, than a cold hand brushing your hair from you neck. Goosebumps appearing where his fingers laied - before resting on your pulse and he just.. stayed there.

Nibble fingers pressed against your skin, and it didn’t feel bad - farthest thing from it. And from time to time he’d circle his finger when he’d lose the thump of your heart, before finding it again. The motion would repeat.

"All surviving players will be presented with two choices. Players must now decide whether to accept permanent residency, or decline it."

"I want-" Chishiya voice was coarse when he spoke, and his finger dragged back down, "To turn it down, I think."

You gave a tiny smile, to no one but yourself, "I want.." his finger started to trail back up the hallow of your neck, "To accept."

Chishiya's finger froze.

[user946468]

The Game Within | Chishiya Shuntarou Fanfication

Chapter 5/?

Prompt ; You get trapped in a TV show, dedicated to stick by the rules of the game you hid in the shadows, watching from a distance, acting clueless. But what happens when you’re also being watched?

Originally posted on ao3! @user951250

AN - I am very sorry for the wait of this chapter, I have not been inspired recently and have just been lazy in general- this is a short chapter, but I thought I would put it out anyways. I hope you enjoy, and the next chapter should be out sometime tomorrow! Also, how are we liking the new chapter covers?

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During time's like these all you can thinking to do is idly roam the scenery of the Beach- counting each pillar you saunter by, playing 'I spy' with the concealed camera's, playing a false dialogue in your mind while watching exchanges from the roof, just a paring too high to hear the authentic conversation. From early morning too lively afternoon's everything moves in slow motion and yet simultaneously dynamic- blurs of comings and goings, carbon copy's of the same people with the same energy meshed together- all in all, repetitious. 

And on the good days you take it with grace, using it to fuel your boredom and take advantage of the identical hours; introducing yourself as a new person everyday, as an extrovert, a starved mom of two, a pianist, a chess grand master- whatever you think would catch the eye of whoever you were speaking too. It was entertaining to see how long you could keep up the lie, and how immersed in character you could become before slyly leaving the banter all together- you once got caught in your lie. Having told two fibs to the same guy, and when he accused you of it? You mocked a dewy-eyed allegation of how rude he was, how ill-mannered it was too think all American's looked the same. You had to hide a snicker behind your hand when two girl's berated him at your cause, over hearing your teary tale. As novel as it was, that too became taxing at some point. And you supposed in some cases, almost cruel. 

You recognized them from across the bar- they were a cute duo. Two people you leaned towards on your intoxicated night's of normalization, they were flirtatious and playful, always seeking to chat about who hooked up with who and how cheeky this guys was becoming- as coy as they both acted you never actually seen them leave a party with anyone, except for each other that is. You had the cunning realization that the couple were closeted lesbians- and maybe that's why you felt just the smallest bit more comfortable around them than any other party goer, because you two had your own lies to fortify. After all they weren't your usual crowd, and saying you even really had a crowd was an exaggeration- but you know, an eye for an eye, or something like that. 

They seemed lost in friendly banter, each hanging off a different guy and yet you didn't miss the way they seemed to gravitate towards each other, sluggish brushes of the arm, eye's that seemed magnetized towards each other- the guys seemed oblivious, which didn't come as a surprise, likely thinking their friendship was as friendly as their banter. The more touchier, macho guy on the right seemed to try and join in there conversation, a guy you don't recognize from their short visual description of their weekly round off. With a rather irksome smirk he threw his arm around Jisoo- the shorter, more petite girl you grew something close to fond off- and he failed miserably- striking her arm harshly, sending what was left of her drink to splash back onto her. 

Without hesitation, her friend sent her own drink flying his way. A dark crimson cherry drink, a vibrant hue of red and that was now dripping down the man's face, falling too his torso and making his shirt cling to his stomach. That alone was sent a harsh reminder of your nightmare that shook you awake, what led you to leach around the beach like a mopey puppet in the first place. Not much of a nightmare as it was a recollection of memory- you didn't jolt awake sweaty and tight lunged, but it hung over you heavy enough to prevent you from falling back asleep. It didn't surprise you when she pulled Jisoo back, leading her away for the man in a pout. They were too hot to be hanging around those guys anyways. 

Your eye strained back too the man, the deep red of the liquid.  

The harsh beat of your heart thumped through your rib cage, your head, behind your eye's, in the back of your knees- it was so loud your sure it echoed through the room. The eerily silent, bloodshed of an room. It was already done, you couldn't take it back- you couldn't reverse what happened- you couldn't bring the poor women back to life. You couldn't untaste the metallic crimson that stained your teeth, clinging too your taste buds with every dry swallow.

Your own silent promises of keeping your morals, standing on the significant's of keeping you stable- they kept you well, alive- and yet, now- in front of the senseless body- you couldn't seem to care. What was the substance of feeding your self comforting words? The self-seeking, selfish ways of putting aside a life by disregarding their existence entirely? By killing them so coldly?

Spades game. Your fifth game. Instructions clear and achievable, easy on the ears- all you had to do was hide. Wait for the timer to strike down, the familiar weight of relief to engulf you by the chirpy voice telling you that you past- that your safe from the game, that your alive. In hindsight it was foolish to try and pull through the game by hiding, completely stripped bare of any sort of conventional weapon- you just didn't want to kill anyone without reason, and you thought you wouldn't have too.

You were sorely mistaken.  

The first was a man. Lean and tall- and a lot stronger than he looks. The moment he looked at you was the moment you understood that not only were you aware that you were going to die by the hands of this man, but that he had no problem in torturing you in the process. The type of person that thrived in this world, taking and taking without consequence- just because he could. Feeling the cold cement press against your back, the sliver of cold metal against your neck and his rough grip around your thigh was the worst form of a reality check no matter how hard you tried to dive back into your mind.

His heavy hand sliding between your legs wasn't real, the smile that drenched with madness and excitement wasn't real, his huff of warm breath against your face wasn't real- but it was. And it was hideous. The wrongdoings of immoral acts- the starved offense they once craved in a more refined world that came alive when they were sent here. It made you want to throw up. 

While unmoving, stiffly laying there and shocked into silence- your mind ran through every possible thought. The fact there you were getting assaulted by a fictional man, that you were tied in with the cause of innocents deaths, your family, your real world, the ridiculous aspect of everything that's every happened to you ever, that one embarrassing moment in high school that you never got over. 

But what suck out to you the most was the straying thought you always voiced while watched a show, a movie or a low budget short film on YouTube- How ridiculous was that person? Not even putting up a fight to survive? Overlooking their own use of their body as a weapon? And now, under the same situation with a different perspective you couldn't help but scold yourself. How naive of you. How utterly stupid you were. 

And- that's what did it. Your internal self conflict was what moved you to strain your neck up, the knife's pressure building on top of your skin, before your skin snapped back- allowing a small sliver of a cut to form. The pricking sting didn't stop you, nor did the foreign spasm of your neck muscle make you hesitate- teeth dug into skin, knife pushing deeper and deeper and deeper and your jaw tightening, small warm dribbles of blood ran down your jaw- trailing down to mix with the blood of your own, resting on the hallow of your neck.

You think you hurt him, you know you hurt him- but not enough to make him any less stronger than you. Like you were an untrained dog he tried whipping his head around, but its like a knife logged into your abdomen- you don't want to remove it because it'll cause more damage. Your head fell down fast and hard, threatening to collapse back onto the floor, the clenched skin between your teeth came with you and the loud screech of the man told you everything you needed to know. 

You bit a piece of his nose off. 

"You bitch!"

And finally- finally- that was was triggered his brain to jump back, lifting his hand too cover his nose (or what was left of it) with pure astonishment- he hadn't expected you to react like that, and truthfully- neither did you. The whole bottom half of his face was covered in blood, and you couldn't imagine you looked much better. Breathless and masked with blood, a piece of human flesh still dangling for your uncomfortably tightened jaw. 

Your throat made a chocked up sound, maybe you were about to throw up, or cry, or maybe it was a half-assed distressed laugh at how fucking stupid everything was- you spat it on the ground besides you, narrowly missing your own arm. And for a small second you both stared at the piece of fat that was laying around a small pool of blood. A piece of fat that, just a minute ago, was attached to a living, breathing, human. Your eye's stung but you knew better than to close them. 

The main yelled out some incomprehensible threats, feeling around the outer skin of his half opened nose like it would appear back any second, the sight of his own nose being anywhere but on his face must have brought him back for the rush of shock that took over his brain- throwing his body around in any way possible like his brain didn't know if he should pick his nose back up, run away, fight back- or all three. 

With shaky hands you lifted the forgotten knife, the man dropped it when he first leaped back, a common reflex of self defensive that worked entirely in your favor- he couldn't hear the metal scrape against the concrete as you picked it up over his own wails or could he focus on you slowly standing up- lightheaded and so unsteady you almost fell over, having to grab a wooden shelf to steady yourself. The man only recognized you when you spoke. 

Despite the irony of your question, you were surprisingly sincere, "Want it back?" you asked, toeing the bloody thing towards him. 

Even with your voice light and most syllables coming out with a sigh, it made the man lash towards your direction- his eyes zeroed in. It really shouldn't have been surprising when the man lunged at you- hot and putrid puffs of air in your face and a tight grip around your collar- but it still hurt being rammed into a ragged cement wall. Letting out a hushed groan as the wall left little prickles along your back, while the the shelf you once used to stable yourself dropped an assortment of trinkets with a loud smash. 

"You- you did this to me!" He accused, a wobbly calloused finger pointed in your face in accusation. You couldn't help but shake your head, technically he did this too himself, throwing you down and feeling you up- stupid on his part to try and rip his face away in the first place- you would have voiced this, loud and arguably correct him but his finger prodded at the slice on your neck- still fresh and raw with warm blood- you made a noise of protest but it fell on deaf ears.

His dirt collected finger nail ran along the inflamed silver of your skin, pressing down just hard enough to turn the slight irritation to a sharp pain. Your vision clouded but you wouldn't let yourself blink, you would rather stab yourself than give him the pleasure of seeing you teary eye'd. 

The man's bloodied, slowly growing grin scared you more than his violent words and harsh grip on your skin. He had the audacity to let out a mock of your pained huff, "Oh, baby. What am I going to do with you, hm?"

You didn't think while you stabbed him in the stomach, white noises clouded you when shaky muscles pushed the handle down- you didn't only stab him, you gutted him. You didn't think because if you did- you wouldn't have fought back at all. 

Your finger moved repeatedly in steady fluid motions, dragging along the rim of your cup- with your head slightly tilted towards the sky, you let the beams of light keep you grounded. If you looked closely, just between where cloud meets sky you could see bursting fragments of red tinge lingering, dancing in small lines with the solid blue, only apparent if you stared hard enough- or maybe you were just too deep in your own mind. Two familiar faces brought your head to hang low, tilted just enough in the shade two see the pair clearly- in grace of saving your eyesight. 

Seeing Arisu and Usagi around became the new norm, leaving you quickly adjusted to their inconsistent appearances around the beach- the three of you haven't spoken much since their introduction to the beach and you didn't expect too. You were even surprised they still gave you small waves and nod's when seeing you around, small courtesies of civility. They never made a move to come up to you, and neither did you them. 

Together they sat before a small group of three, each passing second their frowns deepened in confusion, dancing with bewildered eye contact every few seconds. The two girls laughed at something the man said than, one grabbing a pool noodle from under her arm to repeatedly smack him in the neck. Even with their contentious giggles it looked like it hurt- swinging the foam above her head to hit him - once, twice, three times just above his collarbones. It was a flimsy, light weight thing so logically you knew it didn't hurt- but still you found your self squinting with each hit, what if it wasn't foam?

You could tell something was about to happen before you seen her- the yelling and desperately rushed foot steps made you jump back into the nearest corner surrounding you. The man's body laid unconscious in the middle of the room, knife still laying deep in his abdomen. The basement door slammed open, echoing throughout the walls before being just as harshly shut. Locks clicking hastily just before loud bangs matched the hurry from the girl on the outside. 

A women. Around your age. The yells were manly and deep- you two were in the same position. And yet you knew how it looked when she stared at you- at the bloody dead man- eye's round with terror and a trembling breath, face covered in tear marks. You looked just as much as a threat as the men outside- hidden in a dark corner, your face had streaks of some fresh some dried blood ruining down your mouth, your clothes and hands weren't much better- your sure you looked straight out of some gory horror movie. Not to mention the man.. you tried not to think about him but your eye's followed to where her's fell. 

Sliced chest to stomach, organs swimming so deep in blood you couldn't even tell what you were looking at. It was spilling around the knife and onto the floor and it made the whole room smell metallic, and every breath you took felt like you were suffocating your lungs with it- with his blood. Your gut clenched when you glanced at something fleshy prodding out of his stomach- you kind of expected all his organs to stay in place despite being the one to cut him. And somehow his face was the worst thing to look at; open and dull, lifeless eye's, nose half detached- he's could've been attacked by a wild animal.

You look away before she does. Slowly, you lifted your bloody palms in surrender, trying to not look anything close to how you felt, "I swear, I'm not going to hurt you-"

As soon as you knew what was coming you winced sharply, shoulders jumping towards your ears to try and block out the high pitched screech from the girl, loud and obnoxious- which was completely fair but still made you squint with displeasure. It circled throughout the room, and there was no doubt every square inch of the house didn't linger with the ring of her scream- which meant not only did the structure hear her, so did every other player. Her jaw still hung heavy after the abrupt attack to her vocal cords, she looked frozen in place. 

She didn't move, not even a blink. 

"It's fine. Everything is okay."

"Stay the fuck away from me!" 

Her demand- although it sounded more like a plea- made you freeze mid step, foot frozen a few inches above the floor. The women, while still looking deathly terrified, held a handgun out in front of her- pointed directly at you. She must have hidden it somewhere on her, it wasn't anywhere near her just a few seconds ago- she looked as uncomfortable holding it as you would've imagined. 

Handling it clumsily, arms still a close distance to her torso and unsteady hands. She's un-experienced. Okay, you could do with that. 

You complied, taking a few steps back, "Okay. Look, the games almost over and we-" 

A gunshot - than a shrieked loud "Fuck!"

Whether is came from you or the girl you weren't sure- all you knew was the white pain that shot throughout your arm, the type of pain that made every muscle in your body tense and sent nothing but silence to your mind- the type that signaled to your brain that something was wrong but your adrenaline rush couldn't understand what it was. Lifting a hand to your bicep you winced, hand drawing back with blood- your blood. 

The only sense you had was the solace of glancing down and seeing that the bullet wasn't lodged into your arm, but rather scrapped your skin and took a small chunk of it in the process. Still, it hurt like hell. 

Another gun shot next to your ear. 

It sent an unfamiliar vibration through your eardrum, it was entirely uncomfortable and it silenced any other sounds from coming too your left ear for just a second too long. Shuffling your feet instinctively too the right, trying to escape from the array of bullets heading your way- your right arm swung around the rough wall frantically, trying and succeeding in finding the light switch. The room was engulfed in darkness a second later. 

"Huh? Wh- where'd you go, huh?" A panic struck-en remark laced with anxiety, "Turn the light back on, you pussy!"

Despite her threats, you knew they were vague and was almost positive the women wasn't bold enough to go on a blind search in the room. It gave you time to coddle into yourself; leaning into the wall for support, eye's half lidded and arms hugging yourself tightly- you let yourself shrink for a moment. A sly moment you wouldn't have let anyone see with the lights on.

You knew you had to fight back- and yet, not for the first time, the dread of the situation hung over you. It was like a roller coaster; the anticipation before, the racing feeling during, and the absentness after. You stayed put for a few more seconds, your eye's ruining lines thorough the dark and trying to regulate your pulse in stillness- the women's chocked sobs weren't helping but you knew- the sooner you did it, the better. 

Rolling away from the wall you honed in the darkness around the door- the only way in, the only way out- you took a step forwards, trying too use memory alone to direct where you were going. A shift in the gloomy light, slight and almost unnoticeable- but you caught it, and you maneuvered in a dream like state. 

Another step forwards, this wasn't real.

Another step, this world wasn't real. 

And another, the man's blood wasn't real. 

The last step, she wasn't real. 

With your good arm you threw your body towards her, slamming your left side into her area blindly- and by some luck you managed too throw her off balance, successfully tumbling both you and her down in one foul swoop. With an elbow to your chest and a your knee to her stomach you ended up on top of her- you mused you must have winded her by her short circuit of motion- whole body rigged and still for a moment and a hesitation before swinging something around in her hand- it could have only been the gun. 

Ducking as close to her as physically possible you sightlessly thrashed against her own arm for the gun, trying to claw and scratch your way to her palm as fast as possible. All she needed was one good shot. A slight pressure in your head and ache in your arm go almost unnoticed, your breath caught in your throat- you didn't want to kill the women- you just needed to make sure she wouldn't kill you. 

And yet you might as well have been dead the second a sharp jab came from the women, pushing you face first into the rocky ground and leaving an fire of small tears of skin across your cheek. A vacant machinery click, goosebumps littered your whole body, breath shallow and limbs tense- a loud, ear shattering gun shot and... nothing. No sharp pain, no fire etching across your body and no sudden lose of responsiveness. 

A watery gurgle just millimeters from your head made you untangle your limps from the women, a too familiar warmth of a wet splat hit your face in small droplets. Rushing into the nearest wall, you urgently searched as far as your arms would let and not without a small hesitation you flipped the switch. 

Your brain already formed a hyper-realistic painted of what was shown on the basement floor before you turned the lights on, and the vision in front of you almost matched it identically. The women was hunched over, attempting - and failing miserably- to stop the blood that came from her torso.. your not sure if her uncanny silence or the blood dribble from her bottom lip made you more queasy. The gun laid besides her, a pocket pistol- a hand gun made to hold only three bullets. A pitiful excuse of a gun really. 

You felt your shoulder drop slightly; a shot at your arm, by your ear, and than one at her self- she held no real threat over you now. With her limp figure and pale face you doubted she could be a threat to anything at this point.  

She wepted quietly into her shoulder, biting into the fabric of her shirt and squeezing her eye's tightly. The blood pooled around her in slow waves- nothing like in the movies where their death is almost instantaneous- which really, would have been better than the drag out of death that loomed over you. Inevitable and extended far to long for tranquility. Only your heavy breaths and her silent cries were resonating through the room.

The women seem to lull over something, letting out a pained groan while shaking her head. Finally she looked up at you with unfocused eye's and water-clumped lashes- with a sound that you could only describe as a growl she spoke, "Help me."

She seemed to hate the idea of asking as much as you hated the idea of helping her. Not because you didn't want to, but because you didn't know how. The bullet was deep, and must have hit a vital organ to encourage that much blood shed in such a little amount of time- and you had no way of knowing how to stop the bleeding or when too much blood loss was fatal- and didn't she just try to kill you?

"I.. can't. I'm not a doctor by any means-"

"No. Don't make me suffer any longer than I have too," She  snarled, which for a dying women held a lot of ridicule, "I'm no fucking saint, but death is a lesson in it's self." 

When she saw you made no indication of you following what she said, limply she reached over to the gun and threw it towards you- It only got a few inches away. What the hell were you supposed to say? Would it be worse to kill an innocent women, her death laying on top of you - or was it worse to ignore her last dying wish? After a string of lose cusses under her breath she pointed loosely to a small cutler of gardening equipment, "There, that one."

A well-polished, serrated axe stood tall in group of instruments. You bit your tongue. With one last glance, you made your decision. 

"Yeah.. okay."

Too anyone else it would have painted you out to be satanic- a repulsive act made by a demented replica of everything wrong with the world. A deranged women who picked the hatchet up, feeling its weight in her hands. An unstable individual who lifting the axe above her head, and who madly threw the blade down- again, and again, and again until the metal hit nothing but the floor beneath where the women's neck should have been. But you understood far more than to infer off first sight, the act wasn't hell-ish, and the butchery wasn't violent- it was necessary.

And it wasn't real, the ache in your shoulders wasn't real, your drenched figure was a fragment of your imagination. It had to be. You needed it too be.

You felt bile burn up your throat. 

"Game cleared. Congratulations."

Unlike previous interactions you didn't shy away from the unison ogle that was directed towards you, lifting an accusing eyebrow while tapping aimlessly on your thigh- you let your self stare back for a second, a small dispute coming and going through your mind before sauntering your heads towards the two empty bar chairs next to you in question. That was all the confirmation they need to head your way. 

Sliding your forgotten glass across the table you give a small smile. 

"Hey."

They both seemed to be tightly strung, just like how they were the first day you saw them. Tense, weary eyed and always slightly uncomfortable- like no matter where they are they can't seem to feel like they blend in- and you supposed they didn't, always bring unwanted attention and sticking out like a sore thumb. The pair was unlucky, having brought no desire to back up the regard or respect it for that matter. They slid in the chairs besides you with ease. 

Arisu gave you a sickly sweet smile, "Hey, long time no see." 

Usagi hummed in agreement from besides him, "Yeah, what have you been up too?" she asked. While sliding next to you her palms clenched around her swim shorts, attempting to stretch out the fabric to cover anything more than just her hips- it didn't seem to falter her though, and you almost expect her doing so is purely by reflex. 

"You know.." You trail off for a moment before continue, one hand gesturing lazily to the bar table in front of you, "Around."

You waited a moment, "And you?"

"Well we, uh.." Arisu stopped briefly, glancing over at Usagi for confirmation- and only when she gave a hesitant but firm nod did he continue, although not before clearing his throat in his hand, "We actually have a question. You know, for you. What exactly is," he gestured tactlessly around himself, a copy of your own movement. "The 'Beach'? What's up with this place?"

"We've asked around and everyone has a different answer." Usagi added.

As skeptical as they seemed it was over ridden with a slight hitch in their voices, the lingering and hopefully sense of optimism- you heard it in every one's speech, even in their movements as they pushed and paraded around on crowded game night's without a care in the world, and if they knew about it no one ever tried to hide it, but you wished they did. Because maybe if they did, they wouldn't have been a target to a headless plan. 

Your eyes hopped from Arisu to Usagi, their quizzing and serene gazes to Usagi and her attempt at covering her frame. As calm as they peered at you, you could help but feel the slightest bit uncomfortable at how open they stared, "What have you heard?" You question, gently placing a throw pillow down on Usagi's lap with a feather touch, not giving any regard or look to your hand while doing so. 

And just like you Arisu payed no mind to it, although his was unintentional. He leaned across the bar and carried on, "Well, we all know what Hatter said. Collect all the cards and one by one we'll be sent home- but I mean, is that really it? What about the face card's? Do we just have to wait for those too?" 

The apt and valiant bleed through his words, it make your lips twitch as just how much he was fitting the narrative of being a gamer- he spoke like he was talking his team through a vain video game, outwardly speaking his mind for his team mates to try and connect the dots. But you couldn't connect the dotes for him, at least not yet- but maybe there would be no harm in helping to cement their guard around their mind, making it less tangible to break through. To try and harden their stances; they were too forgiving, too trusting-

"Ah yes, the question everyone is thinking." A new voice, and a click of a tongue too sudden and close for comfort. You didn't have to turn around to know who it was, "No one seems to have a real answer, do they?"

Each day after your game with Chishiya has been vacant, to say the least.

No peculiar force of feeling like your being watched and less sightings of the drifting man in crowds. You knew Chishiya made an opinion of you the second you stepped out of the game- but what you didn't know, something you knew only days after, was the leading nature he made of you was one that bored him. Although boredom was more of a filler word, rather it sucked his skepticism of you based on your performance. Despite feeling a certain way of being characterized as dense in some way, foolish enough to be over looked- you knew it was for the better. After all it wasn't like his characterization of your unintelligent was particularly that far off, and it's not like you cared what he thought about you anyway.   

Still, you felt it dumbed you down. It was a reflex, really- someone can be the brightest person and they can still feel crass when surrounded by others with the same wit- and yet knowing that, it still made your eye twitch. 

Chishiya voice was smooth and still suffocated with an air of superiority, although you could tell he tried to mask it behind false hazy of cognizance - or maybe his ego drifted that high around him that it followed above with each step he took.

Alert was the only word you could describe how the couple tensed at Chishiya's appearance; straightening postures and limbs instinctively retracting into themselves.. it was odd, and made you wonder weather Chishiya already coaxed them with his plan. You took the first step of responding for their sake, both seemed unknowing how or even if they should respond- or maybe they were thinking like you, wondering when and where the fuck he even came from.

"It's rude to ease drop, you know? Or did your mommy never teach you that?"

Glancing over your shoulder you eye'd Chishiya, he was leaning carelessly into the bars table, hands hidden and unfazed by your remark, although their might have been some reaction based on the twitch of his lips. 

"So hostile," he noted, "We're all friends around here."

You wonder if he knew you could hear how fabricated he sounded, or how you could hear how it scratched around his throat like it physically pained him to say.

"You two know each other?" Arisu asked, sounding as confused as you felt- and all you know is that you didn't want to be associated with Chishiya. 

Quickly remarking a sharp, "No."

"Yes."

You glared at him.

What the hell was he getting at?

"If no one has an answer, how are we sure there is one?" Usagi voiced, thankfully not taking mind to the contracted statement of you both- she seemed to sprawl across the chair a lot more freely with the pillow in her lap. 

Chishiya hummed in agreement, quietly gravitating towards the couple, ghost footsteps coming to a fault in front of you- you were half minded to stick your foot out and trip him, just to see if he would get embarrassed. He gazed across the scenery around him in faux thought, "You're not wrong. Somethings are better left unknown, but when there is an obvious answer and the question haunts the narrative.." he pauses, making a show of scanning the crowd before continuing.

"Some cope by killing innocent people, becoming desensitized to death, heavy drugs," Chishiya glanced your way, "Over use of alcohol. All very futile."

You should of tripped him when you had the chance. 

Maybe you were the only one who noticed how dull his speech was, how it sounded like he was reading off a grocery list rather than regarding the results made from an unjustified world but it made you want to exit the conversation and drown him in the pool all at once. Chishiya was a man with much thought to give, a borderline genius with a struggle of apathy - and while knowing the rundown of the situation you couldn't help but ponder of the abstinence of the man. The lack of care he has to spare two lives- to be raped and tortured- because he could. Because it would benefit him in the long run. 

But you supposed that's just how it works here, and you knew that the same logic applies to those of your own sins - bleeding hearts and dubious murders, the flow of nature of the games - yet you still felt he was more stained than you ever could be. You were held together with glue, the strong reminder that everything you do here didn't matter, and that you held no relevance towards any actions you caused - but Chishiya? What did he have?

In the same second you forced your face to fall, you hoped no one noticed the slight frown that formed when your mind jumped to Chishiya's plan - you couldn't look at the pair, turning to face the bar instead. Somehow you already felt guilty. 

"What do you mean 'obvious answer'?" It was Arisu, eyes wide with interest and instinctively leaned more towards Chishiya - if Arisu also noticed how Chishiya leaned back at the same time he didn't show it. 

Huh, so they didn't know about the plan than. 

And maybe that's why Chishiya shrugged indifferently - the way for a split second he had opened his mouth, before abruptly closing it - like he had forgotten something wasn't supposed to be said. It would make sense to wait, cornering Arisu alone before encouraging him to string Usagi along, speaking his plan in a more secluded area- and yet you still felt there was another reason - something that wasn't just the cause of person and place. 

You tilted your head slightly, lost in thought - intentionally ignoring the small question and answer conversation coming from besides you. Concerning questions replied with similar lackluster answers. You twirled your middle finger around the table in scribbles - Chishiya seemed to squint at you a bit more tightly, shuffling between you and the pair like he was creating a barrier and barley made any indication you were there unless you spoke - Chishiya wasn't only unwilling to add you to his plan because he found no purpose too, but because he didn't trust you. 

And maybe there was something funny about that.  

You slid out from the chair, vaguely attempting a quiet leave - an unlit cigarette hung for your bottom lip, and you reached over to grab your discarded jacket you shrugged off some time in the earlier afternoon when it got too hot. 

"Are you leaving?"

Usagi voiced her question out loud, as much as you wished to silently hid away you couldn't seem to find yourself to mind her question all that much. Maybe because it was her who asked it - she clung onto the pillow and seemed more distant to the ongoing conversation - unlike Arisu, who you could practically see the cogs turning in his brain.

Trying not to look as awkward as you felt when her question paused the commotion of the two, three pairs of eye's now straining on you. You mumbled out a trained, "Yes." Not too quick, not too slow.

You were slouched over the table, and your words slurred around the rolled paper when you spoke. Carefully you lifted your hair out of the way of the tiki torch, letting the warm flame light the tip of the cigarette with an encouraging inhale. Hot air rippled onto your face in waves, and it wasn't until gray smoke coiled into the air did you pull away - another inhale, shorter this time, and after your empty hand smoothing your hair down you turned to walk away. 

"Nasty habit." Chishiya commented, just before you could take the first step. 

You hated how every time he spoke towards you, he did so with an condescending tone seeping through each word, and how he looked you over in a way you could only describe as inferior made you refuse to bite your tongue.

"What are you, my doctor?" You asked, an emphasized shake of the head when you got to the last word, an innocent tilt of your head to pull it all together. You dared him to say something back. 

Silence.

You had to turn away before he could see you smile, but either way your sure he heard the small huff of air you let out as you walked away - and you couldn't find it in yourself to care. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag- @mypsychoticlove

[user946468]

NSFW Alphabet - Chishiya Shuntaro and Niragi Suguru

Chishiya Shuntaro x reader | Niragi Suguru x reader

I swear this is my last one.. I should be updating my fic soon, but these are a lot more fun than I thought lol + adding songs from my favorite album that remind me of them. Also feel free to request any aib characters you want me to do a NSFW alphabet for!

Warning- Un-consensual sex, gore, ect.. basically Niragi being himself.

Niragi Suguru

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Aftercare? What's that? Your lucky if he even spares the time to lay with you after. Doesn't offer to clean you up after, or asks if you're okay.. maybe he'll take a shower with you after, but only if he gets a second round during it. After all, he loves the idea of his cum still being in you hours after.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves his dick, obviously. I mean, what would he do without it? He gets a kick out of his tongue piercing too, did you know they make vibrating one's? Not that he thinks he needs it to make you cum, but its a nice surprise. Niragi loves your ass and tits, basic - but not surprising. He's a perverted male after all.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Obsessed with it. Painting every inch of your body with it, fucking it deeper into you, using it as lube, making you suck him completely dry- don't even think about spitting any of it out, he will make you lick it back up.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Not much of a secret but he's a borderline sadist. Bondage, blood, knife play, he's into it all! He enjoys causing pain, inflicting it, making you feel completely helpless, fully at his will. He tie a chain to your neck like a dog, pulling it harder each time you tighten around him- shoving the nozzle of his rifle down your throat with the safety off, finger hovering over the trigger.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He's fucking people left and right, what do you think? He chases after his own pleasure always, your own is rarely on his mind - but that doesn't mean he doesn't want you to cum. In fact if you don't, he thinks its a disrespect to his performance. If you don't, that means he'll pull out ever trick in the book until you cum- different positions, different rhythms, hitting every angle of your walls until he finds the spot that makes you shiver- bonus points if your orgasm is involuntary.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Any position where he has you fully in control. Tied up, laying under his body weight, being constrained to him- it's not like you have a choice anyways. If he wasn't working in front of an audience, he will have his rifle at stand by at all time with several locks on his door.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Of course he'll laugh, he's doing one of his favorite things! He'll laugh at how pitiful you look, the sorrow on your face, your pained groans- but you laughing? Are you trying to get shot? He'll think your laughing at him, after all why would you be laughing with him? Your laughing will turn into pained wails soon enough.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Trimmed, most of the time. Although he has no problem letting it grow out if he's lazy enough, and if you don't like it? Who cares! Your opinion doesn't mean anything to him.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He's a murder rapist. Anything romantic is off the tables. The only thing he knows is the pure bliss of getting his dick wet. Now, if somehow you are able to squeeze past those thick ass walls Niragi has built around his heart- maybe if you treated him like an actual person, anything other than a rabid dog that needs to be put down- than maybe, he'll focus on if your enjoying yourself or not. The most romantic thing he'll do if whisper fabricated praises and encouragements in your ear- or asking if your up to try something different, he won't take no for an answer and if you ask him to stop he'll ignore you- but Niragi will give you a minute or too to calm down before going back at it. That's about as sentimental as he can be.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Funny. What the hell would you be for if he could just jerk off? The closest thing to self pleasure as he would do is getting off on your underwear, and that's only if your there watching- he'll make you wear the stained pair after too. Something about watching you stroll around the beach, talking with friends and just living your life in general while wearing something so personal that were smeared with his cum always made his dick twitch.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

What isn't he into is the real question. He'll get hard at the slight glance at you drenched in someone else's blood after a game- knowing you fought so hard to stay alive just to come crawling back to him. To his dick. He likes when you cry, when your covered in bruises and scars made by him, when you stare at him, claw at his back, try to fight him off- he loves it all.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere! At anyyy time! He has a love hate relationship with fucking in public. On one hand, he gets to watch as people scowl in horror, shoving what they can't have in their faces, putting you on display like he was wearing a designer coat. On the other, why do they deserve to see you in such a state? One specifically made for him to see? They shouldn't get to hear you while you reach your climax, perverted fuckers would probably use it to jerk off!

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

The adrenaline rush of the games mixed with rounds of rough sex after? Fucking life changing. That's when his stamina is at its highest, high chance you wont be able to walk properly for a few days after.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

If you try to act dominant, he will smack the shit out of you and force you to switch positions or he'll get soft in seconds. That doesn't mean he wont let you ride him or you cant give him small praises (although it will take him awhile to fell normal about it) but calling his a good boy or asking to peg him? He'll stare at you with disgust, waiting for you to laugh and say your fucking with him. If you don't, he'll make you say it either way for his sake.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Its more like throat fucking than an actual blow job. He's obsessed with the way you don't try and move when he's ball deep in your throat, you know better. Even if your gagging and huffing heavily through your nose, light headed and tense- all you can do stare through heavy-lidded eyes, silently waiting for it too end. Niragi also refuses to let you touch yourself during times like this, the way you desperately shuffle your hips back and forth against nothing always makes him smile. As for you, Niragi is well adjusted to female anatomy. He'll twirl his tongue, lick, suck, push- try anything to see what makes you gasp. Niragi surprisingly doesn't mind eating you out, especially when your so overstimulated you not sure what part of him in rubbing your clit.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) 

Slow in not in Niragi's vocabulary. It's always hard, always quick, and always rapid. If he wan't to tease you, he'll pull out completely before you climax, or rub himself along your entrance letting himself play with your clit before pushing inside you. Rarely ever with prep.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

If he must, he will. Made militants bring you to his room only to be called to a meeting a minute later? He'll try to bring you too, making you sit on his lap. Groping you in front of everyone, licking down your neck and kneeing between your legs. If he has to suffer the wait, so do they. That is if Aguni lets it pass, if not he'll fuck your throat and finish in seconds. Niragi can hold off for hours if he really wants too, but in situations like this he'll cum early. Plus, he knows you'll still be there when he's back, cause he won't let you leave.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) 

As long as its nothing putting him in "a pussy situation" as he calls it, he's all for it! Want him to pour hot wax on you? Why didn't you ask so sooner? He will even let the wax get hot enough to leave marks, spelling his name across your waist. He almost cums in his pants when you ask him to fuck you with his gun, safety off and fully loaded.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

However many until he's satisfied. Five, two, eight- depends on the day. If he feels nice he'll move to your mouth instead of your pussy after a few rounds, but only if you beg hard enough. Like I said before, he can edge himself for hours on end, making you climax for the fourth time by his first.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) 

Not toys necessarily.. but he'll use unconventional items as sex toys if there close by. Fucking you against the beaches communal dryer, making sure your clit is pressed tightly against the edge of the metal. A candle sick as a butt plug, his boxers as a homemade gag, making you fuck yourself with a knifes handle. He doesn't need any toys, your body is enough for him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Eighty percent of your time spent together is Niragi edging you on, asking you how bad you want him before suddenly moving a few steps away, removing what ever form of contact you had and smugly watching your body arch towards him, begging for some form of contact. "Oh you poor baby," he'd say with mock sincerity, "Missing something?"

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) 

He's loud and proud. Most grunts and moans, maybe a small whimper here and there but usually under his breath, like he's trying to hide them. He's a man after all, not a sex machine. Surprising, I know. The whole time he's verbal, dialogue never ending- he doesn't even seem to be speaking to you directly sometimes, more like to himself.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Enjoys anal and somnophilia (sleeping people). Anal is rare nonetheless, he needs to make sure your properly clean first- going as far as timing how long your in the shower. Anything less than five minutes? Get you ass back in there. Although its more taxing, knowing that your full of his cum in every way possible is worth it. Somnophilia makes his job easier. Simple as that. If your always tense and trying to reject him for entering you, why wouldn't he find you when your the most relaxed, most willing - to take you completely. The ease to push himself in you just to tighten a moment later, while fully emerged, sends an nice twitch to his dick.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) 

Niragi's cocky, and for good reason. He's eight inches while hard, not the thickest but enough girth to make you wince. A light pink going into a harsh red at the tip, raging veins and slightly tilted to the left. He's overly proud of himself.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

On his mind every day- which, are we really surprised? In the morning, at night, during games, in meetings, while shoving a gun in front of a members face, seeing you cry and covered in blood after a game- even if its not his main concern, the idea is always wafting around in his brain. For your sake I hope you match his freak...

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Are you kidding? Sex gives him an energy boost like no other. He's seconds away from jumping around the pool, shooting and fighting people just for the fun of it - hell, he might even join a game early. So, sorry, no cute sleeping together after.

Chishiya Shuntaro

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Quiet. Maybe a grunt while wiping himself up and getting dressed, other than that he's non-verbal. Glances at you here and there, and if you don't clean yourself up he'll ask if you want him too- you always say yes and he always complies. He'll leave wordlessly after, at least for the first few times. If your close enough to be comfortable after the fact- than he'll stay in bed, and after his momentary silence will start spewing whatever analytical thoughts are coming to him. He always gets philosophical after sex.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Chishiya doesn't have a 'favorite' per say, he thought it was foolish- why would he have sex with you if he didn't like every part of you physically? And sure, he might enjoy the way your bikini top pushes your breast together a little to much. Or how easily your neck bruises and the feeling of your heartbeat escalating under his lips- but that doesn't mean he enjoys anything else about you any less. Once you asked, and he stared at you like you were dumb. "Why? So you can boast about it?" He asked, "So you do have a favorite! Honest, ass or tits guys?" As for himself.. he thought he was fine. Attractive enough to cause glances his way, and nothing close to ugly. Chishiya wouldn't go as far as too praise his himself, but he was comfortable being naked in others company.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Ehh.. it's a thing? No real opinion. Doesn't hate it doesn't love it- although he can appreciate it's side use as lube. As cold and restrained as he was mentally, his dick majorly missed the memo. Endless amounts of pre-cum and involuntary dick twitches whenever you so much as breathed on it. But like he said it could be useful.. especially when fucking your breasts. But he swears he doesn't care for either ass or tit any more than he says.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Loves the chase as much as actually having sex. Watching you from afar, prolonged eye contact, seeing how you react to the slight cleavage of his chest when he rolls his zipper down, to his hovering hand by your thigh. It heightens his senses, makes it harder to not want to touch you, not allowing him to see you- after all he has a habit of refusing himself what he wants.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He's a doctor, therefor knows his way around female anatomy. Where certain pressure points are located, where to find your clit, how to position himself in just the right way to make the heat in your stomach grow. As experienced as any normal guy, not a virgin with a body count under five- although it hardly shown as much. He could've told you he had four current fuck-buddies telling him exactly what too do and you wouldn't be surprised.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doesn't have one. Dumb question. If he's fucking you, he's in you anyways right? He lets the situation speak for itself. Your sitting on his lap? He'll guide your hips to ride him. He ends up on top of you- missionary it is. Never would he ever make you go into some obscene position to get his dick sucked a certain way, or too get a quarter inch deeper into you. Their horrible for your joints and muscles, and why would he want to tire you out so soon?

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Chishiya's rarely ever humorous in general, so why would he start now? The closest thing to a laugh he'll give is an amused huff whenever you give a sarcastic quip, or if you do anything he deems is stupid. You let out a nervous high-pitched giggle while undressing? He can't help but compare you too the girls at the beach- the ones who use faulty laughs in hopes of getting laid. If it wasn't for the unpleasant contrast to the other bikini-wearing girl's, it would have almost been something close to endearing.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Well-groomed, and highly hygienic- Chishiya couldn't fathom why anyone would willingly be dirty. He keeps it trimmed, never letting it grow past a certain point before shaving it down. Unlike most he doesn't care if your shaven or not- he just wants to know how often you shower.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Having romantic feelings is a big jump. You should be lucky if you can endues any feeling out of the man. He doesn't say anything with intimate underlining no matter how good your making him feel. Not because he's tempted too or he wants too.. and even if he did he wouldn't know what to say. After all the fact that he's letting you kiss him should be enough.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Chishiya knows the benefits of having an orgasm; it can relax you- physically and mentally, it's a stress reliever, causes a serration boost- yet he's just never felt the need. If he woke up with a boner he'll ignore it until it's gone most days, if it wont, he'll rub a quick one out. Simple as that. In fact its almost annoying, time consuming- having to search his brain for something that makes his dick twitch in satisfaction. At least you given him something to get off too quicker.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Humping. Feeling your hips running back and forth around his torso as the sheer feeling of the imprint of his dick, letting you get off on his leg while your giving him a blowjob, lazily pumping his dick while watching you hump a pillow because he refused to touch you, you rapidly rubbing your clit against his naked thighs- shorts be damned- you reaching your climax without him even having to touch you? Hottest thing you could do. Did wonders for his ego too.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

In a room where he could lay and sit down. Why would he willingly be uncomfortable without reason? And it must be completely empty. No one else in sight. Chishiya didn't hate the idea of fucking in the shower, it made the clean up process a lot faster.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You. And not because of some sentimental outlook, but because of how real it was. You laid bare in front of him - literally and metaphorically - he knew your story, fears, skills, your treasures of the world- what was stopping him for shattering your esteem while you laid so earnestly below him? Or whispering degrading thoughts in your ear while you reach your orgasm, installing pleasure too your fears? Would he? Probably not. But the weight of another person in there entirely surged him to you. You'd let him kiss you in any way, touch you how he pleased, fuck you how he felt fit- you allowed him to have the higher power. He'd be lying if he said it didn't do things to him.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Role play. He simply wouldn't be able to get into character, and he wouldn't be able to see you in such a different light. Although he did play doctor once or twice.. but it made sense, if he is an actual doctor he's not playing a character, is he?

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

No preference, really. He likes the suction of your mouth, the tightness of your throat, the way you tug on his hair when he's between your legs, forcing his head down- completely ignorant to you blocking both of his airways. He realized that he didn't actually mind.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) 

Its starts off as with an even pace, slow and deep thrusts- the longer you go for for quicker his hips snap, the harder the headboard hits the wall and the harder he fucks. Your both always a little out of breath by the end of it.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Doesn't care for it. What's the point in having sex while feeling rushed? He likes to take his time, however how long or short he wants it to be. And the thought of where-ever he had to go to would ruin his sexual tuition, anyway. Chishiya would rather wait it out.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) 

Depends. Chishiya wound't say he's vanilla, or that he's a sex freak- so the thought of experimenting could go either way. If he thinks there is just a fragment of himself that would enjoy if he might say yes, more out of regard to you having the gut to ask him in the first place. If he doesn't like the idea, he'll simply shut you down.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Three max. Although he does prefer letting foreplay escalate you to finishing climax before you actually start to have sex- curling his fingers inside you, claiming he's "Just getting you started.", letting his tongue lap at you like a starved man- so a lot of the time, you end up more spent than him.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) 

Why would you need toys? Chishiya's has two hands and a tongue for a reason. However if you ever brought him a toy, asking if he could use it on you, he won't reject you- but maybe he would make you use it on yourself while he watched, instructing you what too do, purely for his own enjoyment.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Chishiya likes to get to the point and he wouldn't say he teases you, he just finds amusement in watching you arch in pleasure for as long as possible. Although if you ever heard him say that you would call him a fucking liar to his face.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) 

As for grunts and moans, more rare than you would like- you would try little tricks to see what would make him react the most- and ever time he did, you felt like you got a little reward. He was decently vocal, talking more than actually make sounds- but you didn't miss when a sharp intake of breath would cause him to pause, or when his words would deepen to low grumbles. Chishiya was vulgar with his words, much to your surprise. Outwardly asking if you liked what he was doing, making you explain how wet the thought of his dick was making you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Chishiya liked hearing how your voice would rattle when he grope you a certain way, liked hearing your airy call of his name and how you would repeat it over and over and over again in his ear. He liked forcing you to explain why you wanted him so bad while he refused to let you touch him.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) 

Six inches exactly, and two and a half inches wide. How the hell he was that wide was beyond you, and Chishiya knew what you were thinking the second your eye's widened. He just looked at you with a small smirk and raised eyebrows, daring you to say something. Pale, like the rest of his, but with an aggravated bright pink tip. Stick straight and small veins runing to his shaft.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He could go without sex for the rest of his life if you made it a challenge. But you didn't, and it wasn't- so he enjoyed the company when he wanted too.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

If he's tired he'll lay there, eyes closed and completely limp- even though his brain was still wide awake. It always took him a while to actually fall asleep, but depending on how rough you fucked the physical toll with lull him to sleep just a few minutes earlier.

[user946468]

NSFW Alphabet - Arisu Ryohei

Hello! If you're from my Chishiya fic please look away, I am really deep in writers block and I thought this could be fun.. Warning this is fully explicit, if you're not into that please click off!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Very, very gentle. He's scared that he hurt you in someway, or was too rough, or you would regret it immediately after- doesn't matter if you took the initiative or not. Despite being a borderline genius- he's not that knowledgeable in after care, but he tries his best. Cleaning you and himself up after with a wet rag, tissues, toilet paper- which ever was the most convenient at the time- and making sure you feel comfortable, asking if you need anything, ect, ect.. he loves your comforting praises after more than he would like to admit.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Arisu couldn't answer that question earnestly with a gun to his head. He didn't have a favorite, couldn't physically choose one. He was obsessed with everything about you, infatuated with every inch of your being- one moment he would ogle your thighs, than your waist, your chest, your lips, your eye's- yep, he would have to take the bullet. As for him.. well, they don't call them gamer fingers for nothing. He's a bit too proud of how long he can go without getting a hand cramp.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

When Arisu was young he was freaked out by it, thought it was dirty and inhuman- even though it subsided in his late high school years and his hormones were flying through the roof it was always a thought in the back of his mind. That's why it took him by complete shock when you asked him if he wanted to cum on your face, and how fast he came after the fact. He couldn't take his eye's off you after, having to shake himself out of his mind before he got hard again.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

While not major to most- Arisu would never admit to watching as much porn as he frequently does. He's an absolute porn-freak. One websites, apps, magazines- you name it, he's seen it. Oh, and he has a thing for keeping your underwear- which he would never tell you of course, or take without your permission!

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He's not a virgin, while he doesn't have women throwing themselves at him left and right, he's not completely oblivious to the sex scene. And sure, he's watched it, and heard story's from his friends- but doing it is a whole other ball park.. its a good thing he's a fast learner. But there are still a good handful of thing he's yet to be introduced too.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Anything you want. Preferably position's he could fully watch you in, but if wanted to try something new Arisu was anything but picky. However, he does have a knack for missionary and cowgirl- he adores picking apart your reactions, how your head throws back when he fondles your breast, or when he sucks bruises into your neck and you follow up with a low moan.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Arisu always tries to make light of a situation with humor. Especially during your first few nights together; if he feels like the silences are too prolonged he'll tell a joke, or when you make a move and all he can do is let out a nervous giggle- its adorable in hindsight, although you know he hates when he reacts like a untouched-virgin.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Nicely trimmed, not too short, not too long. Before you, he would never give shaving a second glance. After all why would he need too? No one was going to see him there anyways. It was on your first date that he bashfully decided to keep himself more well groomed, for your sake.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Nervous, of course. He's overly sensitive, hyper-aware of everything going on- and you wouldn't have it any other way. He's takes his time, making sure you know how much you mean to him every step of the way- whether is be by his words, or his hands, or his tongue..

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He surprisingly has a higher sex drive than you would think. He could go one after the other after the other.. he only needs a few length breaks in between before he's back on track! His record was four in one day- which he only counted because of a stupid, and completely childish bet with Karube and Chota.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Arisu never gave thought to power play, especially being titled the submissive one- and maybe it was just you that provoked it in him-but when you first climbed on-top of him, whispering borderline pornographic praises in his ear- moving his hands where you wanted them, refusing to let him cum to early- he knew he would do anything you asked, and you knew it too.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Bedroom- preferably yours. Covered completely by you; your clothes, your perfume, your bed sheet.. he's not one to venture off, especially while still living with family. Although his guard does lower in the borderlands, he'll do it anywhere he deems safe enough for you.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Everything. Nothing. Someday's he could see you in a skimpy bathing suit and all he can think is how beautiful your eyes are or how much he adores your laugh. Other days he can get hard in an instant if you look at him a certain way- mind twirling with different images of you- you under him, on-top of him, him between your legs...

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything to hurt you is an absolute no. Blood, knifes, scratch marks- there all no-go's. He's even hesitant to use degrading nicknames. Although he wouldn't mind mild restrains or gags of some sort, on him of course. And don't even think about calling him daddy, he will gag.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves both! Want to give him a blowjob? His pants are already coming off. You asked him to eat you out? He's on his knee's in seconds. Although he love's you warm mouth and curious tongue- nothing beats being between your legs. Tasting you, smelling you- don't even get him started on you tightening your thighs around his head, keeping him in place while you ride out your orgasm.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) 

Most of the time Arisu likes to keep it slow and sensual, covering every conceivable inch of you in small kisses and following your shape with gentle wandering hands. Once in a while he'll get caught up in bliss, pace radical and tight grips- but he'll apologies immediately after, brushing your hair out of the way and asking if your okay- you always are.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not his favorite, he enjoys cherishing every moment with you, every whimper and shutter of yours graved into his mind- but there not half bad in his opinion. He has morning wood but a class in fifteen minutes? If your up for it, he is too. After all he would be a fool to not take the chance up.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) 

If it's nothing too crazy, like almost sadistic, he'll try anything once if it makes you happy. Arisu has no problem stepping out of his comfort zone for you, matter of fact doing introduced him to things he would have never known he was into. Although you'll have to slowly get through his shy demeanor at first.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He's a loser-gamer with a porn addiction... yeah he's not lasting long at all! But he does really, really, try to hold off when you ask him too, after all he doesn't want to disappoint you. Either way he makes up for it by offering a second round, he'll need a second to recharge but as soon as you start leaving kisses down his neck it's go time!

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) 

Would he ever by himself? Absolutely not. Even if he wanted too, he'd be too embarrassed to go out and buy one- hell, he wouldn't even want the charge on his card. Besides a fleshlight - which was a joke gift Karube got him for his birthday, "I knew you'd love it!" he said, watching Arisu's face turn the brightest shade of red any ones every seen- Arisu's never once owned a sex toy on his own account. Until he meet you. It started off innocent enough- cheeky lingerie, strawberry lube, clit vibrators- than you turned the vibrators on him and introduced him to male sex toys.. he was sure his brain chemistry changed after the fact.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

You would say he's a tease, he would say he's making sure every inch of you doesn't go unappreciated. He really doesn't mean too, and when ever he notices you getting aggravated or huffy for more friction, he gives you a sly smile and ask's you what you want him to do to you. When said, he jumps straight into action.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) 

Arisu really tries to hold it in, truly, with all his might - but he's just naturally loud. And you would be lying if you said he wasn't good at it. Every whimper, moan, grunt, and curse could be heard from the man, none of his reactions going unnoticed. He didn't shy away from being verbal either, much to your delight.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

This man is most love-struck fool ever. And that leads to a lot of desperation on his end, especially while your away. How dare you treat him so good? Give him the most live changing orgasm than leave to your collage classes thirty minutes latter? The amount of things he's rubbed himself off too because of it was shameful; your voicemail, a small note you left him on a sticky note, the smell of your shampoo..

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) 

Arisu was an average length, 6 and a half inches long - he swear the half inch makes a huge difference - and a width of an inch and a half, lean like the rest of his body. Pale pink and a strong veins coming from his shaft, they were always the most sensitive- along with his tip of his dick.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He could do without getting off everyday. Sleeping through it or taking a cold shower if necessary, and he never beg you into anything you weren't in the mood for but it's safe to say it doesn't take long to get him in the mood.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

As much as his hormones love raging off the charts- his physical athleticism slows him down. Generally he could fall asleep anywhere, anyplace in seconds- but plus being physically and mentally tired? He's already in a deep sleep. (After after-care, of course) Good luck trying to wake him up!

[user946468]

The Game Within | Chishiya Shuntarou Fanfiction

Chapter 4/?

Prompt ; You get trapped in a TV show, dedicated to stick by the rules of the game you hid in the shadows, watching from a distance, acting clueless. But what happens when you’re also being watched?

Originally posted on ao3! @user951250

AN- Not my best writing but I hope you enjoy! Also very sorry for the wait😓 Also just reiterating if a text is bold that means you’re speaking english!

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Chishiya can't put together a perception of you that doesn't lack incognizance.

If it weren't for his compromised plan; The entry of Arisu and Usagi- he wouldn't have bothered with you at all- until your keenness of the couple and the ease of conversation between you caused a slight disturbance to his plan. If your relation with them was as friendly as he judged off your exchange's, what was the probability Arisu would want to include you in the plan? Save you from the corrupt ways of the beach? Arisu was smart enough, and Chishiya knew he would accompany his plan despite that- so why wouldn't you? He had no doubt in himself that he could coax anyone into his plan- you were certainly no exception, more over he knew everyone needed to be inspired from a different approach. In retrospect it sounded like a simple fix; If Arisu did propose you to the plan, he would encourage you too his scheme. If Arisu neglected to inform you, well, that would make playing his part a lot simpler.

Chishiya didn't know you, but he was aware of you. Relatively because of you being the only foreigner to enter the Beach, mainly because of your staring problem.

Despite his initial standpoint of your eyeing- seeing it as a vague threat of some sort, keeping your presence in the back of his mind when going about the Beach at the small risk you proposed.. nonexistent risk, if he was being sincere- he noticed your gaze wasn't limited to just him, but to practically everyone that you came across. By-chance individuals, exclusive's, higher ranks, militants when their backs were turned- it would have been considered ill-mannered in any other context, built up on walls of social curtsy- but it didn't matter here.

With that he's grown used to being observed after his brief accusation, after all you're not the first person he's encountered that stares especially within the Beach's crowd- although you do seem to a significant amount more than a normal person. Chishiya's been able to disregard you entirely- your stares and individually- so much to the point he almost forgets you are ever there at all. Despite not wanting to entertain your glowering- even if ignoring it didn't seem to be doing much either- he grew curious of your hobby. You didn't seem to care if anyone noticed, only looking a bit sheepish if they looked back- but what drew him in the most was the pressure you did it with. You weren't watching them simply to do with boredom- No, your cause was heavier than that. It was like you were dissecting them, taking apart their words, actions, reactions, just to build back up their conscious. It was as abnormal as it was engaging.

Your invasion to his plan- intentional or not- was what pushed him to come up to you in the first place. It was a weak attempt, really- too not only gauge your reaction but too see the engraved number that etched across your bracelet. He's not entirely sure what he was expecting, but when he turned around he wasn't expecting to be meet with you abandoning the kitchen entirely. He couldn't help but wonder what conscious you made for him then. One that made him that disagreeable to be around, that distrustful to refuse to pick up an enclosed item, simply because he offered it. Your rank was lower than he anticipated.

Chishiya prized himself as hard to read- with incognito facades and vacant expressions- it often came in handy, especially during this portion of his life. The issue lied with you- a potential add on to his plan- seemed to be wary of him entirely, not to frighten to stray away but knowing better than to get anymore than near. Despite it being ever so slightly intriguing, it was faulty to his plan.

Whenever he made a point to watch you, you seemed as comprehensive as the average pleasure-seeker that stepped foot in the Beach- laying out by the pool, engaging in social queues and babbling to whoever you were with at the time. It was only ever when he seen you by chance did he notice your wavering sense of character. Strolling the beach behind pillars- head down and pace fast- trailing eye's, wandering behind closed doors, swift notes on paper, glances at security camera's in every room- too hidden to even be seen from most angles- a detail he only noticed when he himself was scouting out the camera's visibility. It was thought provoking- you seemed to be ordinary enough, and it'll be easy to write your behavior off as simply a combination of weird quirks but there was no way to confirm or deny your behavioral changes.

Did you know more than you were letting on, or was it an ill-fated coincidence?

Chishiya had a plan.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This had to be some sort of a sick joke.

The days following your club game you couldn't shake the feeling of being observed, actually present- something infrequent in your conscious. It clouded around you and to the center of your core; Physically, mentally, spiritually- like the thunder before a storm all you could do was wait for the uproar. What the uproar was you weren't sure- when or how it would happen was beyond you- but it felt personal enough. Maybe that's why you've been timid to leave your room- cautious to limiting your interactions with anybody, restricting booze and time spent out of your room.

It could have been because of the forthcoming of the games, inevitability of the downfall of the beach and lack of control over that fact- but you refused to believe it to be because of the exchange you had with Chishiya. Although you couldn't deny his new found enjoyment of eating in the kitchen, or sitting out by the pool and waiting hours after sundown by the bar- which, you've never seen him actually drink anything during those nights- made you slightly worried you weren't going to wake up the next morning. Rationally you knew Arisu and Usagi were the cause of his heightening appearances but it was also hard to not notice how whenever you so much as looked in his general direction- like he had fucking eye's in the back of his head- he would find your gaze almost immediately. It was so intolerable you thought maybe he did have two set's of eye's, hell what did you know?

Regardless of your new found apprehension of spacial awareness around the beach, it came with more time for you to descend into you mind. Grasping and searching for not only the details of the world before you but trying to rationalize what you proposed to Chishiya- you doubted him speaking to you was by chance or spontaneously. If you knew anything about Chishiya, not only from your time in the Borderlands but outside it too, he was never one to do without reason.

And what reason did he calculate talking to you would accomplish?

On the second day of you caged in your room you wrote down a list of three;

A) Get your staring under control ! B) Place a chair under your door knob as a short-term lock at night (just encase..) C) Join game BEFORE 10 of hearts.

A and B were obvious pro-cations- one more paranoid than the other, but who's to say?- and C was something you only gave thought to recently after you caught a glimpse of Mira and Kuzuryu together- something not absurd to see but rare enough to cause some question's to float around in your brain- consulting with each other with rigid postures and hyper aware stares at each individual that passed by them. Conveniently in one of the security cameras blind spots.

It came to you then that despite your knowledge of the game- how to solve it, how to play and what to do- even the game master's of it all- the chance of you surviving was lower than what was comfortable. You would get killed if you tried to reason with burning Momoka first, you would get killed if you tried to hid away or run, you would get killed if you tried to team up- it only made sense to leave the game behind with just enough visa days to save before the face cards.

More eager than should've been, you were almost happy to be leaving for a game. Three day's of being in your head with little to no vices didn't sound that bad aloud, and it would have been if the bar wasn't off limits for most hours of the day, but you were left futile... It also gave you time to think about if you had a drinking problem or not.

The burden of keeping a facade became more tolerable while being organized into a group, dodging through crowds and the walk to the car- the farther from the Beach the better you felt- and maybe it was uncivil to prefer a death trial to the Beach. But in the end of the day the Beach held just as much blood on their hands as the game's, so really which was worse? The silence was helpful to the fog swirling in your head, it was as close enough to feeling at ease than you've felt all week- the moon was bright, lighting up the night in just the right way. You felt concealed from the world around you, this was one of the reason you tended to game's at night. It was until your harmony was crushed that the weight was back, but 10 times worse than before. The air seemed more shallow than it was just a second ago and you slowed your pace so much you were practically standing still.

Maybe it was by bad odds, or maybe you were thinking about it too much, or maybe he was trying to kill you.

Chishiya was already sat in the passenger seat, hood down for once and as expressionless as ever. Just as you thought maybe you could get away with jumping into the nearest vehicle that didn't have Chishiya in it, your weight shifted down on a branch and crack!

You felt sick.

Chishiya hoisted his head just enough to see where that sound came from, he didn't falter when he seen you- instead taking a second scanning you. It felt a lot longer than a second and more invading than it should have been. You almost felt like you shouldn't be seen - your arms twitched to cover yourself. He didn't looked shocked to see you, or like he even cared- you're not sure which is worse. He stared for a moment longer and you felt stupid standing still, and when you expected him to lose interest and look away- he waved instead.

Was it too late to switch group's?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The ride to the arena was quiet.

Despite the low rumble of the engine running and the obnoxious chewing from the girl beside you- which prompted you scooting as far as the jeep would let you away from the brunette and trying your hardest to zone out the continuous wet smacks. If this was any other time you probably would've sent her a gross look, plugging one ear and hugging the side of the door - but you couldn't be bothered too. Not when your own mind was keeping you distracted. You're not even sure you've shifted or looked up from the window sense you've sat down. The leather seat's were too starchy to comfortably move around anyways.

There were three in the car- four, including you- and you were almost certain one of them was going to kill you tonight.

You've been in a game with an exclusive only twice- one with Ann, one with Last Boss, both were spades and thankfully both team orientated. You remember feeling how you felt now, catering into death with no way to stop it except faith. It was pitiful how easy you fall into sheer hope in life or death situations, you knew it had no capability in helping you yet its always what you lay back on. To your own revaluation, you've gotten this far on it- and now all you could do was hope you have yet to run luckless and join a Diamonds game.

Chishiya presence was loud and yet he didn't have to say anything, every second of the ride you were alert of his presence. Each gesture he made, small shuffle of his jacket or slight movement of his hair reminded you that this was the first time you've ever been close to the man for an extended period of time. It also prompted the weight of which Chishiya could hold over your life- he was clever, quick-witted, more experienced in the games- what's the likely hood he killed you out of pure malice of your staring? A quick fix to the annoyance you caused? Maybe he planned this game with you all along. If his attentiveness didn't make you skittish before, him waving to you certainly did. Now your not sure if you disregarding his greeting entirely was the right move or not.

What's the likely hood of you over-analyzing the situation?

The overpowering smell of leather and the dull ache of the headrest smacking against your forehead made it painfully obvious you arrived at the game. Thankfully you were saved of the embarrassment of being the only one physically abused by the man's parking job.

"Ow, you fucker! Couldn't have pressed on the break's any harder could you?"

It would have been funny if you weren't also glaring at the man, although her tone almost made you crack a smile despite it. She seemed to have had it worse than you, smashing her face against her door's window- if the small circle of condensation that fogged the glass hinted to anything. Rubbing out your forehead you silently hoped it didn't bruise.

"Are you kidding me? Maybe if you weren't so coked up you would've have the strength to stay up-right."

Thinking about it, it did make sense. Her constant ticking and blown pupils- the frantic gum chewing must have been an outsource of energy. Your not sure how the Beach sourced certain things, but you wouldn't put cocaine behind them. Although your sure it's limited to the few that would get close to Hatter, the ones that would join his 'private party's' in his suite- something you personally strayed away from. They went back and forth for a while- It was slightly entertaining at first and it brought some humor into your dejected mindset- although it got tiresome quick when it felt like their quarrel sounded more like a deranged dirty talk than an actual argument. You left after the first, and surely not the last- "dirty bitch" came out of his mouth.

The arena was just a few feet into a woodland- it slightly exited you, most game's were located out in the main area's of the city and you've personally never participated in one away that wasn't downtown. Despite the slight eeriness of the woods, the moon did good to light the forest, giving you a clear view of the trail through the tree's- it was cracked and muddy and hard to balance on but it gave off the innocents of a pathway to a tree house.

It made sense now why you couldn't have driven any further to the game's entrance, branches overgrown the path left and right. All along the tree's trunks there were subtle signs pointing to an abandon building, arrows hallowing out of the bark. It led to a cabin with trashed windows, rotting wood, and protruding beams- how it was still standing was a miracle and you began speculating that it would be coming down after tonight. You not sure it wouldn't collapse on the first foot that stepped inside.

It was no surprise to see Chishiya waiting at the entrance, having heard the low click of his door closing, but nonetheless the sight of him still made you steady your grounding and straighten your posture. For one thing, you were nervous to enter a game with the man at all out of fear of not coming back out of it- but for some reason you almost wanted to prove something to Chishiya. To prove what you weren't sure, and you shook the childish thought out of your head before you could figure it out. Getting a closer look at the house- despite its decaying frame it had a good build to it. It might of even been a structure to praise about before the rot got to it.

Laying out six phone's, a glass caged map of the woods stood before the door- probably the only sturdy structure you would be seeing for this game. You sighed and grabbed the fourth, there was no doubt you would have to wait until they were done to start the game- leaving you alone with Chishiya. He moved like a ghost through the vandalized house, the gloominess really wasn't helping his case- moving away from the door frame for you to enter, keeping quiet as you examined the interior- stained Persian rug's, cracked resin paintings, shattered grandfather clock- you even tried to turn of the light to no avail, having to use your phone light to roam around- he didn't seem to mind silence.

Until he did.

"What suit do you think we'll be playing? Surely space is to limited to be spade's," He commented, eye's scattered across the room. It was the first time you've ever seen him up close, it was almost like it was the first time he was allowing you to see. Although the lack of light made it hard to tell where he was looking. Would it be rude to shine your light in his face?

You cleared your throat, "It's possible…"

You didn't know how to answer, what answer was he looking for? Turning away from the man seemed to give you a clear head. "But unlikely," It was true, there was no room for any sort of physical action, especially not with the pans and planks of wood that were thrown around the floor. You really hoped there were no mice in here.

"Club's are our best bet."

Diamonds or Hearts if I'm unlucky, is what you don't say.

Fiddling with deserted coins you found, you wait for him to respond- You think he was to respond, based on his quick inhale but instead a loud shriek echos through the door- for a moment you felt your face drain of color. They wouldn't have transported wolves here too, would they? With furrowed eyebrows glancing from the door back to Chishiya expecting some form of a reaction- but he doesn't even look a bit curious and you don't know why he's looking at you like that- with raised eyebrow's and an expectant look like your supposed to just understand until you hear a string of laughter after and.. Oh. The color comes back to your face rather quickly.

"Interesting how people jump at any chance of pleasure while being in the face of death," Chishiya added and you couldn't help but wonder why he was speaking to you at all. Peering at you from where he stood- which was closer than he was before, he continued when he realized you had nothing to say.

'It's no different from out world, death creeping behind you wherever you are, so why aren't people just as reckless as they are here?"

The words 'our world' shivered underneath your skin in a way you weren't expecting. What reply would be the safest one? And had he always has that mole on his face?

The coins never left your palm.

You hated how he phrased his words- like he was specifically asking you why you used the pleasure's that the Beach offered at its expensive, and what the difference in surroundings made to you. If only he knew the difference between your normal world and his.

Despite you knowing his question's were to gauge an underlined knowledge about whatever it was he was trying to understand from you- still you felt a slight bit of embarrassment mixed with irritation- it grew when you heard how calculated each word he said was and how casual he threw it around, he made himself sound above it all, like he was some groundbreaking philosopher- it teased a nerve in your brain.

“Speak for yourself," you replied, "Some people enjoy the small pleasure's the world offers. Doesn't matter where or when."

"Fair enough."

The loud slam of a car door silenced your conversation- a "Let's get this thing started!" entirely too cheerfully made you worried they would go for a second round until you heard the patter of footsteps down the track. By the time they got to door they were both sniffling and reeked of sex, sweaty and crumpled clothed- in unison both you and Chishiya took a few steps away from the couple. You slid the coins into your jacket pocket.

Registration is now closed.

The game is about to commence. Difficulty, Six of Diamonds. ♦️

There are a total of four participants.

Game, "Echo Code."

Rule- Groups of two will be made. Match the flashing color of your phones to a door handle, and enter the room.

Clear conditions- Locate the code that will unlock your door within the time limit and before the other teams.

The game will now commence.

45 minutes remaining.

You were fucked in every sense of the word.

Not only were you fated to die, you were left confused- Your phone flashed a deep blue, Chishiya's a low white, the brunettes a gold, and the militants a blood red- the teams were completely randomized and they didn't even give you a clue to who it was with. There was a 33.3% chance you survive the game, 66.7% chance you'll die- you've played games with a lower survival risk but somehow this seemed more intimidating. At least with those games you can have hope throughout the process, to push you forwards to survival, but if you get teamed up with anyone but Chishiya, well.. your not entirely sure what will happen to you. You're not sure you want to find out, either- although it was something you've given thought to before and it was nothing less than brutal.

You felt sick all over again.

"What the hell? I thought we were getting grouped?" The dark-haired girl grunted out-loud with flailing arms. For someone facing death she seemed rather relaxed- slumped shoulders and slow movements- it must of been the drugs. Maybe you should take some- she obviously has them on her- and this is very likely your last game and what better way to go than to be barley coherent how or when it was happening at all?

"We are." Chishiya stated, walking around the three of you and making his way to the left side of the cabin- you have yet to wander there from the sheer fact that there were no windows to help you see- and because of, well.. mice. Chishiya used his phone to light up the hall- six doors side by side.

You decided against your pre-matured death, seeing Chishiya open a door right besides a dark blue doorknob. He seemed to notice this too, glancing your way before opening the door- or least you think he did- it was really to dark to tell. He left into his designated space, closing it with beaming light shining from the room.

You could've kissed him on the mouth right then.

The conformation eased you immensely, finding it a lot easier to gravitate towards your door than before. With a tolerable wringing in your brain you followed around the couple. The man said something this time, but they feel on deaf ears when you opened the door- the contrast of the splitting wood and chipped painted door knob to the room was utterly deranged.

Before you could properly discern the place the luminosity of the room left you momentarily blind, your shielded hand did little to help you but the short sting was worth the view of the room. Tall, freshly painted blue walls with grout work on the bottom, framed vintage artworks, black threaded carpet with gold embroidered symbols and walls filled with stacked bookshelf- the whole size of the room defied logic to the size of the house. The room itself looked like royalty, or at least a replica made for a museum of sorts. It was breathtaking- and maybe you wouldn't have minded dying here after all.

You wondered if Chishiya's room was something like yours.

And why you room was twenty times colder rather than room temperature.

After shutting the door- which looked oddly like a ship's door on the inside- you made your way to the pedestal in the middle of the room, it looked like one of those Greek pillars outside a gallery- the one's made with clay-cement and are hand chipped to perfection. It laid out a black cord phone. You hesitated to touch it.

The biggest frame was one of a painting- entirely erotic and naked, mounted in the center of the room. First thing you see when you walk in, last to see when you walk out. It was of a girl in a position so obscene you had to tilt your head at a 45 degree angle to understand its perspective, all though see seemed to be enjoying herself despite the contorted points of her back.

“Huh, never tried that one."

"Tried what?"

You jumped back instinctively, hitting your back against the door with a thud. You felt like a kid caught with their hand in a cookie jar. Furiously you whipped your head around trying to find the source of sound, "Chishiya?"

A low grunt of conformation answered your question. You finally eyed a gold platted vent, it was well hidden in a clump of smaller paintings with cold frames and you had to go on your tip-toes to see through it. Chishiya was on the other side.

"Have any idea of what we're supposed to do yet?"

"No. Do you?"

Liar.

"Give me a second."

Making you way back to pedestal you fumbled with the keys but they were all jammed shut, and the entire phone seemed to be bolted to the cement. As a last resort you exhaled shakily and lifted the receiver to your ear, far enough away encase it was a decoy and was made to burst your eardrum and...

Nothing.

Fuck, maybe there was a button- swoosh!

You heard it before you seen it. The etching grumble sound of an old pipe, running water and a loud splash. How you didn't notice the large pipe you weren't sure but it was very apparent now- it was overly rusted and, was that black mold in there?

The room was big but the way the water was rapidly flowing made you believe your time limit was shortened by at least 10 minutes. The pipe was attached too the left wall, high enough to touch the ceiling and located behind a book shelf- it was already making a wet mess of the dense carpet. The door made sense now.

Deep blue.

Those cheeky bastards.

You dropped the phone when you first seen the water rushing in the room, leaving it dangling from the cord while you jumped on the nearest chair- your slippery shoes on the velvet almost made you fall back off- but despite the echoing of the rushing sounds around you, beeps from the speaker of the phone could still be heard. That wasn't there before.

You had to lay on your stomach and stretch you arm way past its limit to reach the phone, after re-stabilizing yourself you listened intently while idly shaking out your arm- at first it sounded like a dead line, until the deeps would go longer and shorter at certain times and there was an odd few pauses of long silence-Ring beep beep, short silence, ring ring ring, short silence, beep ring ring, long silence, beep ring ring-

"Are you dead?"

"Shut up!"

Maybe it was a little rude on your part, but you couldn't find yourself to care at the moment. The sounds were too precise to not mean anything, and you figured it out early on that it was mores code but your recollection was frail under pressure despite you having memorized almost the entirety of the alphabet last year when you wanted a somewhat niche talent- although you never thought it would actually come in handy. Beep ring ring- short silence- beep beep, short silence, ring beep, short silence, ring beep beep, short silence, ring ring ring, short silence, beep ring ring-

"The phone- It's mores code."

You've felt you've left Chishiya hanging for long enough, but you doubted he needed your help. You wouldn't be surprised if he already found his key. You vocalized your thoughts purely for the small chance he would give you a clue of some sort- or backup your suspicion of the signals. The water reached the chairs legs now, your entire body shivered when a lone splash entered your shoe, successfully soaking your whole sock.

The water was ice cold.

From the vent you heard a soft stagger from the room besides you, then a small sound of clashing metal- the same sound your phone made when you picked it up- "It does sound like mores code, doesn't it?"

Was he serious?

Despite having no way to see you, you still took a second to stare idiotically at the wall behind you- maybe if you stared hard enough it would crumble down and kill Chishiya with it. However that was wistful thinking, and it wasn't going to stop the water from flooding the room.

With your finger you had to draw out the sequence code on your thigh, using pictorial recollection to try and decipher the term- W I D- widow? The water was just shy of the top of the seat cushion- you had to shuffle to the backrest to avoid getting your shoes wet. W I N D O W - Window? With frantic eye's you searched the wall's, side to side, up and down; pictures, maps, wallpaper- but no window, no curtains to hide a window, either.

"Well? What now?"

Sense the room started to fill you felt the apprehension of the game weighing you down- the water was crowding you; on the walls, the floor, soon to the roof- you never knew you could feel so claustrophobic from a body of water, and the worst part was you didn't know what to do now.

"I don't know."

You could hear it in your own voice, too.

The cushion was soaking with water now, floating around the soles of your shoes and all you could was watch it vacantly with a blank mind. The phone never stopped repeating the same sequence. You would've been self-conscious of the anxiety seeping through your voice if you could think properly.

"You don't know mores code."

Displeased at how sure he sounded at his comment you felt the need to correct his statement.

"I do, but it doesn't make sense. I don't have a window in my room."

“But you have paintings in there don't you?" You don't even want to know how he knew that, "Is there a painting of a window? Maybe even a book about paintings with windows?"

There were no pictures of window's that were hung, or blatantly obvious books that held the knowledge of every painting with windows- but it did make you think about the dresser you eye'd upon first arrival, it looked a lot like the secret passage from 'The lion, the witch, and the wardrobe' but you also recalled the the stacked paintings that peaked out from the door- too bulky to fully lock the closet shut. The only down side about his proposition was the fact it laid across the other side of the room- the room that was now four feet deep in water.

You hated that his assumption made sense. Maybe you were being petty, but you neglected answering him.

Slowly you lowered your foot down- as soon as it reached your ankle you jolted back- you knew how cold the water was going to be from the tease it gave your foot but you were still left shocked at just how freezing the water was- somehow it was worse than before and the chill of the air was making your foot relieve it's experience of being dunked. Going slowly was surely not helping, neither would procrastinating, nor did the 30 minutes renaming of the clock- you plunged your whole body in at once.

You swear your vision went white- goosebumps ran throughout every pore of your body into every crevice of your brain and it was the closest thing you've ever experienced to an electric shock- it felt like you've just jumped from a Jacuzzi to the pacific ocean. You wouldn't be surprised if they did correlate the temperatures at your expense. Each step through the water felt like you getting shocked over and over and over again and you felt like you were moving a centimeter at a time but you continued across the room. You had to use your body as a stopper so the closet door would slam shut from the water pressure.

There were five painting laid out; The first three portraits, two of laddies one of a man- no sign of a window. The last two were water damaged and harder to make out- using your shirt to dry them did little to help the wilting paper- each were different designee's and sizes and still no sign of a window. If you felt stupid with you half-walk, half-swim across the room you felt like an utter idiot now. You scanned the book shelf's- the thousands of book laid across eight foot walls- most of which were submerged under water and physically unable to be read. Couldn't even one painter have been inspired to paint a window during their art guise? Weren't they supposed be be symbolic or something?

"I don't think anything in here has anything to do with windows!"

"Keep looking."

Think outside the box, is what he meant.

“Chishiya- I'm telling you there's nothing in this room. And if there is, it's already waterlogged."

"Water, huh? That's what you got?"

So preoccupied with your own threatening vice- you forgot Chishiya got one too.

"What'd you get?"

"Carbon monoxide."

Low white.

You missed when his voice turned muffled-likely the result of breathing through some sort of cloth- and the mockery of the aggressive string of coughs he let out after the fact was almost cinematic. You both went silent for a moment. 19 minutes remaining.

"I have a window in my room."

The game's rules of teams and groups ran around your head. You failed to remember how self-willed Chishiya was. You were going to kill him.

“Fuck you.”

A muffled, "Huh?"

"Nothing."

The last 20 minutes of the game went quicker than the first, maybe Chishiya could have let you try and play it out until the last few minutes but the gas seemed to be filling up his room quicker than expected- and the other team really held no competition considering their aimless train of thought. You were really glad you haven't stubbed the girl for whatever she was taking. As bothersome as Chishiya was- coaxing you into searching your body numbing room the reflection that you held just as much over Chishiya as he did you made it slightly more bearable- you refused to give his next code before he gave you yours- he didn't argue.

It was a hunt for numbers, each place hiding a numeral- and Chishiya was a lot quicker with his translation, because of course he knew mores code by heart- but they were getting vigorous harder too find. On your part the water reached you chin, half-paralyzing your body and the slight wave of the liquid made the water sting worse than before- it slowed your movements down, having to thrash around floating paintings and uneven tides to venture off every corner of your room. Chishiya's words got more slurred, making him harder to hear on top of the already muffled syllable's- funnily enough he almost sounded drunk- but the rapidity of his words only ever ceased slightly. The mores code of the phone changed after Chishiya found his first integer.

The last round was by far the worst- the water reached your height and you had to float above water to move, this time actually swimming, and your phone cord was losing length, just shy of brisking the water. Although you already dropped it once when you had to go into the right corner of your room from the lack of extend it gave you, the speaker spat water into your ear each time after that. Your body felt like it was convulsing, teeth forcefully chattering and your body wouldn't stop fucking shaking- it was making you more and more angry at the lack of control you had over your body, as stupid as it sounded. At the last number it was almost impossible to get out behind your shaky voice- maybe you made a sound or gave some indication of discouragement because Chishiya gave you your last code first, despite it being his turn.

Somehow it worked to place your mentality a little higher than your situation- you gave him his code before going to search for your own- you already had to shatter and rip up a painting, break off a lamp, tear apart a cushion, tug off wallpaper, and locate a hidden city on the map- and somehow the ending of your game was worse than finding them. You had to dial the number into the engulfed phone. You didn't think about it before you dove number water, the last thing you heard was Chishiya's door opening before your ears were packed with white noise. It felt like an ice bath, pricking your eye's like little needles and burning your nose- it was challenge in it's self to locate what numbers were which in the water, the cavitation and air bubbles distorted the numbers and clouded your vision, the cold only made it worse. Even after you jammed your stiff fingers into the according numbers (9-2-5-6-9-0) you didn't have the luxury of an already opened door and an emptying space, no, you had to open it yourself.

You were not made to be a pirate, and it was proved by how tedious it was to get the door open. The pressure was working against you and you couldn't open it purely by arm strength, buoyancy wouldn't allow you too use your body weight either so you had to forcefully slam yourself into it, grabbing onto the porthole for more force. It blazed through your left side, leaving it aching and irritated after only one try but it only fueled the demand of your actions- you felt like a psycho tying to break down the door and surely you looked like one- it made your actions stutter when you remembered that your game was being watched- they were going to have a field day with this one- but it didn't put a stop to your actions.

Only when you staggered forwards from the demand of the water, and the loud screech of the door opening did the water stop.

You remember little from how you ended up outside, sitting on a fallen log exhausted and bitterly cold- what you do remember was how odd it felt to walk with your normal weight again, you discarding your sopping wet pants, not missing the irony of the swim ware underneath and the sight of Chishiya placing the card in his jacket- you didn't even mind if he took it for himself, accusing you later on to Hatter and saying you stole the card- and what was up with you and losing your clothes in games?

It was warmer outside and Chishiya didn't rush you back to the Beach- although you didn't miss his few not-so-subtle stares between you and the car to which you only glared at him- he looked better off than you did, more reasoned in the head and physically- but you didn't doubt he needed fresh air as well, not sure you would trust being in a car with him after he inhaled toxins for 30 minutes no matter how hard he tried to play it off. You wonder if he did it subconsciously or not.

Your jacket was thin and therefore held less water, but it still clung to your skin no matter how many times you pulled it off and your hair kept wringing droplets onto your shoulder but you were too lazy to wring it out, your entire body was still covered in goosebumps - you heard a mew sound - and you hoped you didn't get frostbite - a meow followed after.

You heard Chishiya grunt in disapproval.

Wait, what?

A dark frizzy blob clung onto Chishiya's leg and he didn't look particularity happy about it. A dark frizz that had white fur, and pitch black eyes, and a tail-

"What the hell?"

When you spoke your voice was coarse and still slightly uneven but the cat looked at you with some recognition- it didn't seem to care though, instead rubbing it's face onto Chishiya's leg, leaving a trail of fur in it's awake. Its only when Chishiya lightly shook the cat off and toed it away from his direction did it slowly start walking to you as a last resort- although not with a few pauses and giving looks back at Chishiya like he would change his mind, it was properly acting like a dejected dog. Unlike it's keenness to Chishiya it sat a few inches in front of you, staring at you expectantly. Why did it act like it wanted to kill you?

It's dark eye's squinted at you.

"You're fatter than before. Eating good?"

It meowed back.

After a minute of staring and another minute of sniffing your shoe it finally let you course its back lightly, but if you got too close to it's tail or face it would hiss and quickly advert your hand- you had to roll up your sleeves to avoid getting water droplets on its fur. Apparently it hatted water and made it very clear after trying to attack your jacket. The cat was a girl, you found out, and after a few minutes of debating you mentally named it Alice. You thought it was fitting enough.

The roar of the engine rudely brought you back to your circumstance; your game, the frost of your skin, the fact Chishiya was going to drive off without you if you took to long- with a final pat on Alice's head you made your way back down the path.

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The ride back to the Beach was as quiet as it was from the Beach.

It was daunting how quiet Chishiya was compared to the start of the game- how quickly he was able to switch his act's now that he had an opinion on you- you could only guess what it was but you couldn't imagine anything more than lackluster. It almost made you feel dispirited- keyword almost- but you really hadn't had anything to show from the game. Nothing worth praising anyways, except the fact that you made it out alive- and even then Chishiya had more of the backbone during it. Although pouting in the same area he was in- especially over something so pointless- wasn't going to do you any good.

The coins surprisingly still laid in your jacket pocket.

The lowered window's helped the air flow in the car- it did wonders for drying your hair and jacket, yet it still made you uncomfortable at the way it nipped at your skin. Not as cold as the water- well, definitely not as cold as the water but still chilly enough to make your huddle into yourself, legs to your torso and jacket stretched over your knees. If Chishiya thought anything low about your actions he didn't voice them.

By the time you got back the Beach was still as lively as ever, loud crowds and booming music- it made you wish the water did irreversible damage to your hearing after all. You made your way up the gate in silence, you walking a few feet in-front of Chishiya- he gave you a indecipherable look when you muttered a sarcastic 'Girls first!' when he walked through the gate door you opened for yourself. The first thing on your mind was a warm shower (if you did get frost bite, was it safe to go into hot water right after?) and your bed, your layered, not drenched with water, bed. Surprisingly you were not as sore as you thought you would be, but maybe that was because you were still numb from your waist down, and you really shouldn't be jinxing yourself. It would be worse tomorrow.

Half way up the drive way Chishiya spoke up to your astonishment, it was the first thing he said to you at all after the game. He was fully turned to you and had his palm open, curiously you peaked down and saw the keys laid in his hand, trailing your eyes back to his face you gazed at him questionably. The Beach light's were definitely doing him justice- or maybe he always looked like that and you were just too far or it was too dark to tell. He looked exactly how he did on TV; Dead hair, pricing eye's, smooth pale skin- and he was definitely wearing eyeliner.

He looked good.

"Put the key's away would you?"

It made sense, the car slot and Hatters suite was on opposite end's of the beach- you were more surprised that he wasn't holding the key's out by it's chain so you wouldn't have to touch him. Trying not to be as weird as you felt- you hummed in agreement and took the keys into your own hands- he was significantly warmer than you, you wouldn't have guessed he ran hot- the asshole wiped his hand on his jacket after, you had to bite your tongue not to smile.

You're not sure what possessed you, or what type of sickness the game gave you but before he could walk away you asked, "So, Chishiya? What's my verdict?"

For the first time he did look a little surprised, it wasn't really an accomplishment but it sure felt like one, and he took a second to respond.

"I never told you my name."

Maybe you were better off not asking. You stayed put even after he walked away, through the crowds and into the building- you only moved when you heard a distinct meow behind you.

Looking back, you never realized how much Alice looked liked a cat version of Chishiya.

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Tag- @mypsychoticlove

[user946468]

The Game Within | Chishiya Shuntarou Fanfiction

Chapter 3/?

Prompt ; You get trapped in a TV show, dedicated to stick by the rules of the game you hid in the shadows, watching from a distance, acting clueless. But what happens when you’re also being watched?

Originally posted on ao3! @user951250

AN: this is a very long chapter, and kinda lazily written, very sorry.

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You actually miss the shitty pull over now- something you never thought you would say- for every step through damp ground and each time goosebumps covered you in waves of bitterness you pined for some form of heat. And each time you thought you might be desperate enough to turn around and go find it you remembered.. well everything the shirts went through. Snot, gasoline, dusty floors, rushing waters.. poor thing had a hell of a run, as ugly as it was. You also figured your physical state was taking a toll on you mentally after you caught yourself pitying a piece of clothing.

Despite the aching in your joints and numbing chill that surrounded you, you didn't find yourself to loath the walk back after the first few miles. On the contrary of the various physical activities you endured, it was much preferable to walk at a steady pace. A familiar stride, one foot in front of the other- with no time limit or stress escorting you. You were satisfied to find you remembered your way back to the arena, and for the tire marks that smeared across the road, paving your way back to the beach. It also gave you time to think, to process the mental fuck the game gave you- and to think over what you were going to do next. At first your brain fought off any coherent thoughts that came to you, it was too harsh and abrasive to think about how this situation benefited you when multiple people just died in a game you attended- and it only made it worse when the weight in your stomach slowly untethered in the same hour the game ended.

You hated how desensitized you were becoming to death, and how fast it seemed to be happening- you were sick of yourself, in a selfish way, to fall into senseless ways of the game. You were no better than every other blind drunk at the beach, doing as said then drowning their madness with alcohol. You didn't want to think about how this would affect you in the long run.

But this situation gave you something you never had before- something valuable to no one but yourself. It gave you a timeline, you would now know how close you were to the face cards- to the ten of hearts game, how close you were to going back- if you simply observed the passing days to come. If you were calculating right- which after your missing memory's about the club game, you were second guessing yourself- you only had to join one more game if you got a card number higher than 5; or two more if you got anything lower than a 4- before the beach was a resource you could no longer lean back on.

At the thought of the beach you cautiously grazed your thumb across the card in your pant pocket for what seemed like the twentieth time, reassuring that you didn't forget the piece of plastic nor did it maliciously disappear into the night. The farther you traveled the darker the night became, you had a hard time navigating the tire tracks and your own hands were nothing but a blurry silhouette in front of you, which makes sense why you couldn't be bothered to try and decipher exactly what the warm white haze was you were passing, and why your pulse quickened and you quickly shifted backwards when you heard a sharp hiss coming from it. Thankfully you've never heard of a snake with white fur or tall ears before (could you imagine? death by venomous snake after surviving in a world full of unceasing death games?), so your initial panic subsided when you fully took in the feline in front of you.

It truly looked like a mesh of unruly bright hair from afar, even more like a duster of some sort up close, no wonder you hadn't immediately recognized that cat for what it was. It's fur was surprisingly clean, ears pointed and a waving tail- you're not even sure if the cat had any other eye color except the jet black you could see, he? she? was squinting at you with what you could only recognize as irritation. You must have stepped on it's tail. Your hands hung up in surrender, "Uh- sorry?"

Did it even matter if you apologized to the cat?

You felt like a suspect under interrogation while it peered at you, sniffing in your direction furiously as you tried to make yourself seem less intimidating- after all you didn't want the damn thing to bite you. What if it had rabies?

Almost like it understood your thoughts, the cat's gaze turned its questioning one into one of disinterested, almost like it was bored of you already. Alright, bad accusation on your part you suppose. Slowly the fuzzy bundle got up, stretching its hind legs and trotting over to you just close enough for its tail to curl around your calf. Pleased the cat seemed to tolerate your presence- even after you injured its tail- you crouched to course the cat's head timidly, having to place a hand on your thigh to stabilize yourself. It swiftly arched away from your hand.

"Seriously?"

The cat meowed back in response. Warily you looked around; partially because it was still pitch black, and you were alone in the middle of nowhere with no sign of light in a fifty feet radius- partially because you were talking to a cat out loud.

"Fine then," you huffed, feeling rather petty than you knew you should've been- and continued to your string of tire marks. Despite the radical reactions of the cat, whenever you looked behind yourself, the cat stood a few feet away.

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When you woke up the first thing you noticed was the brightness peaking through your curtains, in the few hours that you've been back on the beach the weather change drastically; clear blue sky's and beaming sun rays- not a cloud could be seen over the horizon. You should've been enjoying the weather, letting the rays cover your body- an absent warmth you wished for last night- but you couldn't find yourself too. It was four in the morning when you finally got back to the beach, an extra fifteen minutes when a duo of militants with ridiculously large ego's tried accusing you of trespassing- even after you stared dumbly down at your swimming attire and ranked bracelet they didn't seem to get it. It took you practically waving the game card in their face's for them to let you through.

You laid in bed for 5 minutes- 10 - 15 - 20- by the time it hit 5 AM you were still wide awake. Images from your game hung in your mind like picture frames; the injured man, the charging water's, the tagged bus that you dreaded ever seeing again, the forgotten motorcycle... you needed a way to keep track, to make sure all is not unremembered. A mistake of memory is not something you could afford, especially not now. Luckily in each room, in the second shelf of the dresser, there was a cheap notepad and a hotel branded pen- neither were of great quality but it would have to suffice for just this night. By the time you feel asleep- with papers messily thrown across your floor and ink stained fingers- you filled a quarter of the pages top to bottom, they looked like a abnormal scatter of lose words, sentences and phrases that would not read anything close to rational to anyone but yourself. And when your own memories didn't even make sense to yourself, your sleepless brain drew small doodles that would hopefully mean something to you later that day.

It wasn't until you poorly gathered your papers and stuffed them in a storage bin under your bed did you leave your room, it was earlier afternoon and you could already hear the obnoxious pop song's blaring from outside. For the first time a drink didn't sound unpleasant, rather suitable knowing that it would help relax your tense figure. You also desperately needed to find a better source of ink.. and a shirt. Everywhere you wandered beams of light somehow found there way into your eyes- It was doing wonders for what felt like the beginning of a migraine- but the liquor helped ever so slightly. Apart from roaming around various parts of the beach that gave you a clear outlook for any familiar faces and sipping on your drink, you had nothing to do.

Actually, there were things you could do- things you should do- things that were a lot more beneficial and productive than drinking and sun bathing like a cat trying to regulate its body temperature. You were deprived of both sleep and calories, despite knowing they were crucial to your well being your curiosity to see the duo outweighed your own needs. It was a bad habit of yours, denying yourself the two. It made everything feel more like a bad dream rather than the actual abuse you were subjected to. It was a hard habit to shake- even more so after your games. You thought about the cat- how it stopped under a road lamp lit by the beach's generators, how it refused to follow you as you made you way up the drive way.

For a moment you felt you and the feline had the same purpose; observing, allowing to be seen but never letting anything get too close.

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You kept yourself awake by the discomfort of massaging you legs, stretching your arms, smoking a cigarette- but it was long overdue you got some sleep, even an hour nap would be favorable. Somewhere in the three hours you were waiting you grew discouraged of seeing the couple at all today, and after yet another antagonizing thought you felt more prone to sleep than sociability. Leaning against the first pillars of the entrance you were finishing a rolled cigarette you snagged off of some party goers in the first hour, the pillar was rigid and poked into your lower back but it gave leeway on your feet at least. Scanning the herd of heads one last time before making you way to your room, it wasn't hard to identify the bleached shoulder length hair- especially when it was besides an up-do of dreads. Anytime you would of taken their appearance as an excuse to survey the two- but now you weren't in your right mind to even be around anyone- and funnily enough they gave the impression of almost wanting to be watched. They were facing you, but not looking directly at you per say- more like something beside you.. or maybe behind you?

You must of been more badly off than you previously thought from the way both their eye's slowly moved over to you- Jesus, you needed to get your head right-

"You're alive!"

Oh.

After figuring that you couldn't just ignore him and walk away- as much as your inside's screamed at you to get out of this situation- you turned around to fully look at Arisu. Wearing an relieved expression downplayed by the uneasy wringing of his fingers- you could understand why he was concerned, you haven't seen Usagi anywhere. Hell, you didn't even see Arisu for that matter. His reaction reminded you of when he first saw you and Takuma at the end of the hill. Not a pleasant memory. You took a few seconds to respond.

"Excuse me?"

Arisu looked embarrassed for a moment, "Sorry! I didn't mean anything by that, you know, its just after the club's game we didn't see you s'all."

You were fully aware of the eye's watching your every move.

"We? Your friend is alive then?"

"Takuma? Well, um, I don't.."

"No, the other one. The girl." You cut him off abruptly. You couldn't have him finish that sentence, you refused to hear it. Their stare's felt like they were inside your brain, searching and prodding- you were almost afraid they could.

"Oh! Yes, yeah- she's actually here too. Have you seen her anywhere?"

His speech slurred faster at the mention of Usagi, fidgeting stopping for a moment while he stared at you optimistically, it made you bite back a small smile. Lightly you swayed towards the entrance, encouraging Arisu to follow you with a tilt of your head, "Well, if her greetings were anything like mine she should be coming down the stairs any minute now."

You needed to hid away.

Without question Arisu followed behind your back like a lost puppy, passive and obedient- it really was no wonder Chishiya used him as bait.

Their reunion was short and sweet; Usagi timidly making her way down the stairs, eyeing the couple swapping spit by the railing- your timely charge of the situation surprising yourself, Arisu calling her name cheerfully from the last step, Chishiya entering the room, Usagi's quickened pace and their (awkwardly long) muted eye contact, Chishiya examining the situation, his eye's running back and forth between the three of you trying to understand what you brought to the affair, locking eye's with Chishiya- him acknowledging your stare back, your skipped heartbeat, his raised eyebrows- you think Usagi let out some form of address to you before you walked away- although your not so sure- but you gave her a weak greeting in return.

This time you knew he was staring, and he knew you were too.

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Cheering rang throughout your room, restlessly but affectingly jolting you awake. After screaming into your pillow, flushed and slightly embarrassed, you feel asleep- face still logged into the cotton, silently hopping you would suffocate while asleep. You didn't know how to respond to the contact, should you have a response at all? Arisu greeting you- especially in such a way- put you on Chishiya radar weather you liked it or not. It was an unspoken fact you realized as soon as he followed you into the room, a promise of sorts as soon as he looked your way. If he didn't notice your stares before he certainly would now- and your not sure if you could conceal yourself.

Leaving your room the chaos of the game invaded your senses entirely. You could see the pushing crowd's, smell the booze, not only hearing but feeling their chants through the floor. Every game day and every sighting of Hatter, you were ever more reminded of how much of a cult the beach was. A cult you were apart of, and even worse willingly. Despite the luxury the beach offered- this was not the 'free' place it claimed to be. Your still slightly surprised people choose to be ignorant to the situation, the facts were laid clear in front of them as soon as they arrived and yet they let themselves fall into Hatter's hands. Watching the mob merge and shift below you made you glad you joined yesterday's game after all- the crowd was ten times the size it was yesterday.

You wanted to go down and eat- or maybe watch for Arisu before his game but you briskly tossed those idea's after seizing the size of the crowd, and decided going back to your room was more fit when you were in sight of a light- dull and small, but present. You had a camera not to far from your door, hidden in the far border of the hallway- you would glance at it from time to time, a tick you picked up after seeing it cords peak out from behind a plant- it was never turned on. But it was now. You could only imagine Chishiya's reaction after finding the security system- unused and forgotten. You could only imagine his current reaction behind the screens.

How much could he see of you now?

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When the roar of car engines finally ceased- followed by the cheering participants, you predicted it was a good enough time to leave your room without seeing any recognizable face. You predicted Usagi to have hidden away in her room by now- jugging on how uncomfortable she seemed to be around the public earlier, and you knew Chishiya and Kunia never stayed out for any meal, instead venturing off into their own rooms- well as of recently into Chishiya's room- which made sense for their on-going plan.. Although you did hear some thought provoking whispers about them once.

The camera was off when you left your room.

Thankfully the central area was vacated, the herd of people from earlier shuffled out by the bar, still as loud and feral as before- the kitchen walls did good muffling them. As pleased as you were you couldn't help but think bitterly about how the sound proof walls would've made more sense in the solo rooms, why did a kitchen need to be silent anyways?

Your favorite thing about the beach- besides the ruining water, of course- was their ability to locate and find fresh food in the city. Even though it vaguely reminded you of middle school cafeteria food- it was better than cold canned soup for every meal. The only hot food they were serving was some type of chili- which actually took you a while to realize. It was bright red and strangely watery, it even had small chunks of what looked like a meat of some sort? You held the serving spoon up, examining the contents of the dish- they could've told you it was made of ketchup and water and you wouldn't have been surprised.

"Gross, isn't it?"

They sounded as put off as you felt. "Are they sure it's even edible?" You questioned, more to yourself than to the man. "I wouldn't take the chance," He mused, you heard the shifting of the man jacket as he moved.

Slowly turning the spoon sideways, you watched as the fluid dropped back into the pot with a wet splat! Yuck. Fruit and packaged goods would have to do. While giving it a last stir, trying to identified what exactly the meat was- cubed hot dogs? Actual ground beef? You doubted it, - a plastic wrapped sandwich slid in front of you.

"Much more suitable, yes?"

If you hadn't picked up on the pearly white sleeve's of the man jacket, or the dark eye's that peered at you from your peripheral vision- you would've hummed in agreement, took the sandwich and thanked the man before making your way outside- but you tensed up. The disgust on your face dropped entirely, leaving you pale and dry in the mouth- holding your breath when you felt you were breathing to hard and mind ruining on nothing but white noise. You eyed the man beside you cautiously- Chishiya was grabbing a sandwich of his own, paying little mind to you at your new found uneased state- or at least had the courtesy to ignore it.

Leaving Chishiya and the highly likely poisoned sandwich behind you, you speedily make your exit- grabbing two small apple's on your way. Were you terrified? Yes. Were you also starving? Absolutely.

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When Arisu got back it was long after sun down, although their group was one of the first back- the game's were funny like that. Some easy but antagonizingly slow, others vigorous and gory, but twenty times faster than the others. You've heard of lengthy and laborious games before, but those were one of those things you've never heard being too truthful- things you could only pray you never have the misfortune of encountering.

Fearful of facing Chishiya again you stayed in the crowd, choosing a seat that crammed with other's- until the smell of sweat and sour beer's got to much and you had to relocated- although you were able to ignore those quality's for the first hour, until not even getting tipsy could help you for being overstimulated at the slight brush of someone's shirt against your arm. You laid out on a lounge chair - which proved to be much more accommodating than the wood stool- and basked in the cleaner air and open space. It could've been more relaxing if you were constantly replaying your interaction's with Chishiya. Could anyone blame you? From rarely ever seeing the man to staring and speaking in the same 24 hours would cause anyone to ruminate.. right?

You were sprawled out, loose limb's and resting eye's, if you could see yourself in third-person you're sure you would've looked something close to dead. Sure as fuck felt like it.

Arisu and Usagi noticed you first. When you heard the approaching sound of footsteps you thought nothing of it, it was a public space- kinda inevitable to hear wasn't it? You didn't flinch when the seat next to you squeaked with newly added weight, or when the sound of a conversation commenced. At length you eventually did open your eyes when you heard a fast exhale of what sounded like your name, a name you only gave too three- Takuma, who then told Arisu, and Hatter when he asked you to 'present yourself.' At first you were a little shocked to see them, which you mentally slapped yourself on the wrist for being so inattentive to your surroundings, but it did make some sense. You were the only person here they knew- besides Chishiya, but he closed the door to Arisu's death didn't he?- You've been here longer, and you've helped them in game's, unlike some people.

You eyed the two, a little muddled on what they expected from you. "Nice to see you two, still alive."

You thought it was a little funny, a playing on Arisu's own words. Thankfully he seemed to get it, a small smile and a shake of his shoulder's. Even Usagi, who you didn't expect a reaction of out surprised you- giving you a tiny grin of her own.

"Yeah, you too. Although I never thought I'd get to speak to you,” There was a glint in her eye's as she stared at you, not unfriendly but not fully comfortable either. “I thought you didn’t understand Japanese?”

So used to seeing Arisu and Usagi together you guessed you mentally associated them as the same person, what ever he know’s she know’s and vice versa- but it made sense she had yet to be aware you spoke Japanese- no words exchange during your joined club game, and a silent greeting this afternoon. You could understand her wariness considering your silent lie but you felt the need to defend yourself.

“Well, I can… that's just something I say. You never know what type of person you’re in a game with, who they are and what they stand for- it’s kind of like a protection tactic. The less they know about you, the better. It's safer that way."

It was a little uncomfortable, switching the topic to something with a heavier meaning so quickly to protect yourself- and usually you strayed away from being too exposed and vulnerable- especially in the public eye- but the understanding looks they gave you seemed like the right card to play. You hated how their sympathy- the small sliver of humanity they shared with you almost made you feel like you were a normal person and not a hallucination made of carbon.

"I guess that's one benefit of being a foreigner. Could you imagine if me or Usagi tried to pull that card?"

It was somewhat dull of a joke, and terribly obvious he was trying to make light of the situation, but amusing enough that once you and Usagi shared a simultaneous peer at each other you both couldn't help but huffing out a few chuckles. Arisu seemed exceedingly proud of himself at that- he couldn't hid that well, nor could he hide how smitten he was for the girl- the poor man practically lost a few brain cells watching Usagi laugh, as stupid as his joke was. There was a short quiet period after, but it was the farthest thing from awkward. The couple seemed to be more comfortable being around someone that knew the place they themselves were unfamiliar with, it had it's benefits for them definitely- but it wasn't something you should let carrier on, for your own sake. Arisu broke the silence first.

"Hey, if you understood the game, why did you stay in the bus?"

The tone of his voice, innocent and blameless, still makes you want to curl into a ball and disappear into the lawn chair. You refused to look away from an empty tube floating aimlessly in the pool and shrugged, "Unlucky suicide attempt?" was all you could offer. From a certain angle, when the pool lights hit just at the right direction, it looked like the float was a glowing neon pink- and you wished Arisu didn't ask any more question's.

"Hey,"

And somehow this was worse.

"Is this your girlfriend?"

With quick eye's and a dense gut your vision jumped from person to person, place to place- for a familiar face until you were left certain he was no where to be seen. You relaxed every so slightly but your nerves were still on fire- you were over staying your share, you almost forgotten about Kuina and the militants entirely- you missed Arisu and Usagi defensively arguing back. You were getting too comfortable.

"You want to sit down? I was just about to leave." You made sure to stand up before she had a chance to reply. The quickness of motion made your legs lock up stiffly.

You noticed she looked pleasantly surprised- giving a more genuine smile and kind thanks- and than that she looked even better up close. It almost made the dull throb of your legs worth it.

Arisu winced, "Still sore, huh?"

"Very." He had no idea.

After a brisk round of 'goodnight's' you made your escape to your room, doing your best to ignore the abandoned sandwich on the kitchen counter, and the red dot that followed you like a laser down the hall.

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[user946468]

The Game Within | Chishiya Shuntarou Fanficton

Chapter 2/?

Prompt ; You get trapped in a TV show, dedicated to stick by the rules of the game you hid in the shadows, watching from a distance, acting clueless. But what happens when you’re also being watched?

Original posted on ao3! @user951250

Note- Hi! this is very important to the story, when words are bold that means you are speaking English, when there is bold your speaking Japanese, which is most of the time. (I hope that make's sense.) This chapter is not my best and a little rushed, very sorry. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

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The tunnel lights were a harsh contrast to the soft, more comforting moonlight- The distinction of light would have almost been artful if you didn't know what laid awaiting before you. With a hand shielding your eyes you slowly approach the bus they way you would a rabid dog, one foot in front of the other; Not to loud to be abrasive, not to quiet to be unheard. The first thing you noticed was the weight of three pairs of eye's on you, scanning your frame, sizing you up, determining whether or not you'd be useful- the next was the three phones left on the table. That wasn't right. The weight in your stomach increased plenty.

You could turn back, but you grabbed the phone instead. Statistically there should be a game seven miles away from here in any direction, you could make it if you run- you sat in a seat far enough away from the group of men, phone in your lap. It was too easy of a game to give it up. You were still sore after all.

A voice came from the man closest to you, recognizable face but a name you cant remember. "Hey! You speak Japanese, yeah?" He practically spat out each work, dragging each syllable for longer than necessary. Like that was going to help anyone if they weren't fluent. He talked with his hands and even leaned towards your ear, like you were a deaf of some sort.

"No."

Ignoring the disappointed looks between the group, and the distance the man stayed at- which was a bit too close for your liking. You entertained your focus on the reviewer mirror, it showcased a few miles worth of the tunnel; cracked pavement, empty cars and bright lights. You remembered the importance of the game; the water tunnel, the tiger... anything other than that was blur to you. Was there anything you were missing?

To busy trying to replay the game in your head you failed to notice the bus shifting weight, it wasn't until one of the men spoke did you look away from the mirror. You notice Usagi first, surveying everyone including her surroundings, looking warily- almost accusing. Arisu stood behind her, although looking more agreeable; nodding in welcome. It was eerie seeing them in such a way, although it's always like that at first. You watched their conversation silently, apparently the men cleared four games together- with the downcast of one of them getting an injured leg in the process. That was no good, especially in this game. You said nothing. Not even when you were acknowledged.

"And you? Is this your first game?"

"Don't bother, she doesn't speak Japanese."

"Oh.. Do you think she'll understands the game then?"

"Who know's?"

Everything went quiet for a moment, then an in sync flash of your phone’s announced the beginning of the game. A small spark of guilt resided in you while you watch the three men converse rapidly, trying and failing to start the bus at the expense of their limp friend. A part of you wished you could tell them that it wouldn't matter if he stayed put, if any of you stayed put- It held nothing over your lives. But you couldn't. And you didn't. The guilt grew when the man ushered his friends out, determined and watery eyed, he even tried nudging you out of your seat as well, his daunted expression twisted into one mixed with confusion when you dismissed him. Even when he tried to explain the situation to you with frantic animations and everyone's bewildered stares burned into your mind, you stood unmoved. There was no way in hell you were outrunning a tsunami.

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You swear you’re a good person- truly to your core, your spirit and mind- but listening to constant sniffling and silent cries for 30 minutes straight was really testing how long you could endure being in the man’s presence. In all honesty, your irritation fueled the sorrow you felt for the man and your own guilty conscience. It was a continuous loop. He would go silent every few minutes, glancing in your direction when he would remember you were still there- he would straighten his posture and align his breaths and each time you thought maybe he had no more tears to cry- he would break down again.

You wish you had brought a book, or maybe a paper and pen to pass the time- or anything to silence both your brain and the man simultaneously. Although you supposed if you did you would have never noticed the floorboard storage that lifted open, or have been bored enough to extend the lid backwards to find loose wires, dusty car tools- and a siphon pump. Briefly, you weighed the opportunity's the instrument approached you with; You could close the lid before the man seen you, pretending that you never instigated at all, or you could show it to the man, restoring his ambition and hopefully put a stop to his sob's. Your choice was clear when you heard a particularity snotty-wail come from his direction.

"Do you know what this is?"

You held the pump out in front of you, and for a second you thought he wouldn't be able to hear you over his own weeps, but he went silent. Slowly he turned his head to you, or more specifically his eye's- he seemed to be hiding his face from you behind his shoulder.

"Uh?"

His voice was cracked and uneven, which you were expecting- your not sure you've ever cried that extensively for over half an hour. What you didn't expect was the way he gaped at you like a fish, teary eyes wide with surprised. His shoulders seemed to rise and fall at a slower rate when you spoke, you took that as a good sign.

"Do you know what a siphon pump does?"

"You can speak Japaneses?"

You took his disregard to your question as a no, I have no fucking idea, because if he did your sure he would've been jumping with joy right about now instead of focusing on the language barrier between you both. Sighing to yourself you explained to him the significance of what you found, "People use these to transfer gas and oil's from one place to another."

"..Okay?"

"We can get this bus up and ruining."

Broken leg discounted, your not sure you've ever seen someone sit up as fast as he did- he stabilized himself clumsily, gripping the back of his seat so hard his knuckles turned white. "Really? You can do that?"

Despite the obvious warning throb from his foot- clenched teeth, furrowed eyebrows and a pained grunt he spoke in the most bright and optimistic tone you've heard from anyone all night. Optimism was the farthest thing you felt, there was no guarantee any of the vehicles in a 30 feet radius had enough gasoline to even start the damn thing- and what if there was a hole in the pump? Or it just didn't work all together? Even if it did work and you started the bus, what would be the positive outcome of it? You'd be leading the man to his own death, for what- to play hero for fifteen minutes? You gave him a half smile, it was double-dealing and didn't reach your eyes. "Sure I can."

When the man staggered towards you, you worried he was going to hug you- or god forbid start crying into your shoulder- he might of, but he didn't. Especially after you took concordant steps backwards as he did forwards, instead he demanded you tell him what he could do to help. You retaliated, it wouldn't do him any good hopping around from car to car on one foot, and quiet frankly he wouldn't be of much help either.

Somehow he convinced you to let him help find a container of some sort big enough to hold gasoline in, in the end he proudly waved a paint tray in the air. It had thick layers of obnoxiously orange paint stuck to the plastic- and you weren't sure if paint and gasoline were a good mix but you decided you didn't care. The moment you stepped off the bus and onto the road you took in a deep lungful of air- you never realized how stale the air became in the bus, you mused it must have been the man's heaving that vacuumed the air out so quickly.

The tray wasn't even close to a quarter full after emptying four different vehicles gas tanks, which just made you more bothered as time ticked down- you didn't even plan to drive the damn thing! After another practically empty gas tank- which, did everyone really not give a shit if their car's broke down in the middle of a highway?- you heard the bus squeak and loud staggered breaths. Despite you discouraging the man to move anymore than necessary, he seemed too agitated to stay locked up in the bus alone. You were aware of him watching you from an open bus window sense you left, maybe it was because he didn't want to be alone or maybe he was nervous about the time slowly dwindling down, or it was both- none the less it made you run back to help the man go down the stairs instead of arguing him back into the bus. It was the least you could do, after all you were practically feeding into his death. His breath was still staggered and from time to time he'd let out small hiccups- they were more frequent when he talked, so you said little to nothing at all.

You started on the next vehicle after you helped the man lay across the tunnel wall's, by the time you got to your previous car the man was already sweating and grunting in pain from every steps- you had to shy'll shrug of your tropical button up when you realized he got snot running down the left arm of your shirt, you even tried to play into apart of you taking it off due to humidity to not embarrass the man.

"Are you wearing a bathing suit?"

A beat of silence.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I like to swim."

He didn't say anything after that. You didn't encourage him too. For 10 more minutes it stayed like that; silent, you ruining back and forth to each and every car you could see, you silently wondered if this would make you any less sore than ruining the 10k after all. After another 3 cars the tray was just shy of being half full, and at this rate you would've put money on the game masters purposefully emptying each gas tank for this specific reason. "Is this going to be enough?" He asked, carefully lifting the top of the tray back, watching the gas ripple in itself. You rubbed your gasoline covered hands on your discarded shirt, making sure not to go anywhere near your left sleeve- the fabric was beyond saving at this point. Not that you cared, it was fucking ugly anyways.

"I'm not sure," Rarely did you speak with such honesty in your tone, especially sense you've been here-but you really had no idea how far you could go with such little amount of fuel. Surely, not enough to complete the full length of the tunnel. Your knees bent at an awkward angle while squatting down to the gas tank, almost giving out completely when you stood back up. You had no doubt the man saw when he started to argue his way into helping you, shaking your head at his multiple attempts to engage in your efforts of draining the tanks. You're not entirely sure why he pushed to help you so suddenly, maybe he felt guilty you were going out of your way to 'save' him- he even told you his name. You refused to use it. It was too sentimental, too humanizing.

"I'm just saying, your all pent up now. I've been sitting for far enough time to gain some energy-"

"Hm."

"I'm not completely useless, you know!"

"I know you're not."

"Exactly! That's why we should rotate,"

"Didn't I just say no-"

"Hey!"

The shout was distant enough not to be heard at all, but desperate enough to make you squint at your surroundings. For the first few seconds you almost thought it was coming from the man in-front of you, but he held an even more unhinged expression than you- you were confused. The yelling came closer, voice raw and loud, it wasn't coming from the man in front of you but from a disheveled figure a few feet away. Arisu, with his shirt clinging to his torso with moisture and drenched hair, hauling a motorcycle (which was bigger than himself) in-front of him, looking both distressed and relived to see you- and you... didn't know what to do.

How could you have forgotten about this? Did you forget or did this never happen? How many other thing were buried into your brain that you haven't remembered? Then when Arisu speedily explained that we needed to move the gas from the motorcycle to the bus as quick as possible, and how something about the finish line didn't make sense, you couldn't help but think you've just spent the last 30 minutes running around practically topless for no fucking reason.

Hanging the irritation at your own foolishness in the back of your mind for later, you quickly jog over to were Arisu was slowly rolling the bike- although rolling was a bit excessive, it was operating more on gravity than anything Arisu was doing. You lightly gripped the handlebars into your own hands, adjusting to its weight and nodding over to the pump still half stuck in a car's gas cap, "There's some gas over there- in the paint tray- It's not a lot but it's something. Combined with the bike we should have something close to a full tank."

You didn't miss the surprised look Arisu shot you when you spoke, or the way his eye's lingered on the band dangling on your wrist before he spluttered out what sounded like grunt of conformation and went to gather the petrol. You didn't want to think about what that meant for you at the moment. You were shaking by the time you got over the last hill, grunting in a not so feminine way when you finally got to sit down on cold stairs of the bus. Your whole legs were so stiff it almost hurt more to sit down than to stand up. Easy game my ass. The only bright side was Arisu already emptied the tray to the bus and was walking Takuma over, he didn't even seem to mind his snotty and sweaty figure leaning against him- although you supposed Arisu probably couldn't even tell who's sweat was who's as this point.

Ew, your nose scrunched up tightly.

Thankfully Arisu was smart enough to bring the pump over without specifically being told you, but it did suck having to move off of the stairs for the two men- you ended up using your arms to move onto the ground- they both sent you an apologetic look.

"I would help you but.. I don't know how too." Arisu voiced out the door, head hanging low. Nearly ashamed. You cant say you were surprised to hear that.

After draining every drop from the bicycle- which you did finish sitting on the floor- Takuma tried to start the engine. And when you expecting to be meet with the rumbling of an exhaust pipe and a E gas tank light you instead were meet with an tantalizing sharp squeak sound that had all three of you covering your ears and wincing sharply. After a brief conversation of how exactly the vehicle was going to get a jump start- actually jump starting the bus with cables, locating even more gas, trying to lower the bus's weight- you ended up agreeing to try human labor to physically move the bus. Because apparently they wanted you to die before the water got to you first.

The plan was simple, Arisu pushed by the metal of the open door, you pushed from the back of the bus, and Takuma would slowly increase speed while in four wheel drive (a detail you specified on with Takuma before making your way around the shitty hunk of metal.) It took everything out of you and so much more- some time in between you were so light headed you thought maybe you weren't pushing anything at all- until the wheels spun rapidly, kicking dust on either side of you and started to rotate forward. You walked as fast as you could behind the nearest car, limping every time your thigh mussels tensed up so much you thought they might fall off. This was the part of the plan when you were supposed to jump onto the back of the bus, hanging onto the backdoor handles to keep steady and pray you don't fall off- but you've done enough for one night. More than enough. You watched the bus slowly venture away like some sick version of a movie scene.

The last 5 minutes went by quicker than expected, maybe because it was the first time in 45 minutes you've been able to relax- physically and mentally. Even by the time you left you waited minutes after the game ended- until you heard the rushing sound of water and heavy metal crashing that echoed viciously around you. By the time you were back on track to the beach and following your previous trail the water already made its way onto the open road missing you by just a few feet. You don't understand why exactly you stayed, especially so close it was almost as dangerous as staying back in the bus- but you didn't dwell on it. Not now. Not tonight. You still had a long night ahead of you after all.

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[user946468]

The Game Within | Chishiya Shuntarou Fanfiction

Chapter 1/?

Prompt ; You get trapped in a TV show, dedicated to stick by the rules of the game you hid in the shadows, watching from a distance, acting clueless. But what happens when your also being watched?

Originally posted on ao3! @user951250

There was a few lone people by the hot tub, thankfully not being too annoyingly loud, but loud enough for you to hear them from a few feet away. A cute, rather short girl with some type of tropical drink- a color so vibrant you can never help but wonder what the fuck they actually put in the drinks they make here- she had a cherry in her mouth. On the other end of the stem a cherry hung into a guys mouth- it was all very sensual, and you would usually feel like you were interrupting something but there was something humorous in how the guy sitting in front of them was staring at them with such disgust and confusion, and all at once looking very distraught.

It was funny on his part, and utterly pathetic on yours. All that you have been able to do these past weeks has been to people watch, after these hellish weeks of fighting for a life in a world that is not even your own. A world you thought was your own- for an optimistic few minutes until the the sun light seemed to warm and blinding to just be a dream, the stores, cars and roads too abandoned to be somewhere you somehow were unfortunate enough to sleep walk too- but as soon as the singular billboard shown a bright sign that rung alarm bells in your brain; you thought that was it- you've gone fucking insane. It was insane, so that meant you were too. However you learned the hard way dwelling on your sanity in an empty city wasn't fading your surroundings back to the familiar walls of your room no matter how hard you closed your eyes.

You knew where you were, but that's something too ludicrous to say out loud, let alone think- something you wont even say to yourself now. Who's to say you wont jolt awake in your bed a few seconds from now and laugh about your own stupidity? You stayed there for a long time, mind reeling and dwelling on ever logical possibility to make where you were- where you are make sense. The only thing you could think of was to follow the billboard, on a negative side to confirm your intuition; on a positive side to humor yourself.

But there was nothing humors about the cold shock you felt when you seen the conscious, lively people in-front of the arena, all as confused and anxious as you were, nor was their humor in the blood that stained your clothes, the seething warmth of the liquid that sprayed you. It was all too real too fast. 4 of Diamonds, a maze of mirrors with secret codes, and a lot blood. It took you three, close-to expired visa's and two more games for you to be pushed and try to understand your meaning in all of this... if it wasn't you going into psychosis after all.

During your third game, and your fourth game, and all your games after- you always repeated too yourself what you did know rather than thinking about what you didn't know. If you wanted to be grounded, you knew that these people that you were seeing weren't real. Not in your world anyways, and isn't that what really matters? When you wanted to have a clear mind before a game you reminded yourself that every participant you were up against, they weren't going to make it out in the end. It was dehumanizing, and dissociating, and borderline insane- but it kept you safe. And you were going to play by the rules, how the games intended. From the day of your first game the thought that death was creeping behind your back never ceased your mind, not while alone, scavenging for food, or in the middle of a game. It was the first thing you thought about when you went to sleep, first thing on your mind when you woke up.

Especially when you think back to your games, the games you won out of sheer dumb luck. The luck that your life lies on so tenderly, threatening to collapse at any moment. You weren't particularity athletic, or a team player, neither did you have the mental capacity to call your self a diamond or hearts player, you just got dealt a good hand. Low number cards, yet to anything above a 6. Sheer dumb luck. Somewhere along the lines of trying to keep your sanity intact you got recruited to the beach, partially because you had one game card they were deprived of and partially because they were getting desperate for more ranks. All though staying at the beach was breaching multiple rules you made for yourself in your brain, it truly was a blessing in disguise. Warm bed, clean water, hot food, you even felt a wall of safety grow around you, it was a false sense of security and you knew that, but couldn't you appreciate the slight comfort it brought?

The first day at the beach you made two new rules; One was made when you first meet Hatter- an a lot less incriminating interaction than the one you've seen on TV, it was over almost as soon as it started. Him taking your cards, brief run down of the rules and a toss of a room key, then him guiding you by your back to the main floor, he left with some rushed good-bye's and him trailing off about "Never having a foreign before..." That interaction was enough to make your mind blank for the next three hours. Knowing you're in the same place as fictional characters is one thing, seeing and interacting with them is brain numbing. Your truly happy you came into the beach with such ease, with no one but the Hatter and a few low class militant controls- you don't wanna know how you would've reacted if you've seen Mira in there, knowing everything you know; So you've made a rule to blend into the crowd. And to your displeasure that wouldn't mean sitting back and watching people slowly lose their sense of sanity in front of you, but to join them. Like clockwork, every other day you force yourself to the bar and get a shot with whatever fruity drink you see first, and get just drunk enough that socializing doesn't seem like its own mind game.

The second rule was to never, ever neglect bathing every again. You really don't like to think about it.

You don't really like to think about anything anymore when you don't have too, and the cold air mixed with your sore muscles was a perfect brain distractor. Or at least it was, until mild discomfort turned into a borderline ache all over your body when the sky got darker and the night got colder. The couple (throuple?) by the pool have already left, a chilled glass cup sitting alone, being the only thing to prove they were ever there. A nice reminder that you haven't gone insane yet and hallucinated them. Despite the throbbing in your legs, you stayed still. You were waiting.

Another reason you liked to stay out here was the view, specifically onto the third and fourth floor. The higher ranked area's were a mystery to you despite everything, but from down here you could see all of the front facing rooms at anytime of the day- except for one. The third room to the left always has it's curtains drawn, and when they are open it's only ever enough to see a dark crack ruining from roof to floor. Except for right now. This was against your rules, to watch, to pry where you didn't need to- but there was some sort of sick satisfaction you got from watching everyone when you knew their endings. And Chishiya had a long way ahead of him.

After the initial discomfort of knowing, watching has been the most entertaining thing for you to do. Anyone if you’re bored enough, executives preferably, Chishiya by favor. Mostly because he was the hardest to spot around the beach, always hiding away doing god know's what- but not now. He's talking to someone (Kuina?), if him glancing into his darkroom ever so often and nodding is anything to go by. He's toying with something in his hands, too small to be seen by you, and he keeps looking around the outskirt below him- not anxiously, just watching. Could it be the taser he used in the spades game? If he had the taser now did he already meet Arisu? Was it a replica? Or maybe it was something else, a different devices he needed someone to test it on... and you were a solid target laying out in the open. Not that you would particularly mind.

You pried at your brain to focus seeing that the balcony was now empty, the curtain still open an inch wide. You needed to get up and back inside, away from the cold and into your warm bed. Groaning you stood up stiffly, allowing your eye's to glance back once more to the third floor, almost disappointed- but he was back, to your surprise, like he never left. Lightly leaning against the railing, hood on, but this time without the device in hand, watching. Specifically glancing back in your direction, and if you squint it’s almost like he’s staring at you. With a final look around he retreats back behind the curtains.

Fuck, did he notice you?

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There were only a few things you appreciated here, the normalcy's in your surroundings was one thing. The sun, moon, sky, the stars- they were also the only thing making you contempt with this situation- they’re the only things that stayed the same. Your visa expires tomorrow, and a game was much needed to help tame the anxious pit in your stomach- but even a gruesome death game you don't have the luxury of having, being meet with an empty table and pity glances from the two girls you rode in the backseat with.

Maybe you would've argued your way into the game, or even fought for the phone if you cared enough to, but no sooner than you could scoff something shining through the trees got your attention. The sight of a small bright arrow pointed further down the road, and the good news is it didn’t seem to be a painfully long way ahead. You were almost grateful to be turning away when you heard the cheery chirp of their phones, leaving the group behind to wander on your own. You don't get that a lot anymore. You also didn’t want to think about how you’ll get back later tonight. If you will, at all.

Swatting away the last thick branch from a particularly overgrown tree you see an arrow pointing down into a lit tunnel, the yellow toned light gave it a sense of warmth-a burning warmth of a lighter, a fire you shouldn't play with, only look at from afar. Nonetheless, you continue to the tunnel- you feel more uncertain with each step, pausing when you’re directly under the arrow. A bus was parked a few feet ahead of you, a familiar bus, one with graffiti too distinctive to be a copy. Your half minded to turn back completely, find a new game and forget you ever came across the highway- but the moon was taunting, reminding you of your visa. Getting closer to midnight every minute you stared aimlessly into the light, way to close for comfort.

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