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The afternoon is chilly, even with the heat of the crackling fire in front of Akira. He rubs his hands together, chasing its heat. The ground outside the manor is blanketed in a fresh sheet of snow, piling up against the walls. If it keeps snowing like this, they might not even be able to venture out for the game tomorrow.
For a moment, he wonders just what might happen if someone refused to participate: if the owner of the manor would do anything at all. With how elaborate the whole game seems to be, there must be some sort of punishment set up for disobeying.
He decides some things aren't worth risking as Yusuke scoots closer to him, arms wrapping around him. His lips are ice against his neck but Akira doesn't twist away. They don't know when the next time they'll be able to twine themselves together will be.
"Promise me," Yusuke says, the breath on his skin warming him more than the fire could ever dream of. "If the hunter incapacitates me, you will run."
Akira wants to shake his head. They are a team and even if driven into a corner, protecting Yusuke should be his priority.
"I've made certain assurances," Yusuke continues, and whatever those might be, he doesn't divulge them to Akira.
When he closes his eyes, all he hears is the snapping of the fire, the snow billowing outside, and Yusuke's steady breathing. It would be easy to pretend that this is all there is, but tomorrow things will be different. Tomorrow they'll be fighting for their lives without the powers they once commanded as Phantom Thieves.
He learned a lot during his time in the Metaverse, but things are different now. The four players in this game are all, as far as he's aware, ordinary humans; he doesn't even have Morgana to help guide him in this strange world.
The worst part might be that he has no idea who they'll be facing, only that they will be hunted.
But by who — or what?
Yusuke's so-called "assurances" might have something to do with the man he's been spending time with; the one with a surgical mask covering half his face and silver hair that gleams. He's an embalmer, Yusuke had said — an artist for the dead. They are kindred spirits, in a way; they both dedicate themselves wholly to their passions.
One just happens to involve canvas, while the other deals with human bodies.
Akira shivers at the thought: of the embalmer who carries his case of preservation tools with him everywhere.
Just what has he been teaching Yusuke?
And why?
Does he know something about the game that he isn't telling us?
Or is he just happy to have someone share his enthusiasm?
Yusuke squeezes him tighter as if sensing his worry. For now, they just sit in silence, huddling for warmth as they sit in front of the fireplace.
Tomorrow, they will play the game.
Tomorrow, they will have answers.