Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

She wakes up screaming, hands outstretched to fend off a phantom. The echo of her best friend taunts her as he cajoles her to join him. Sara gasps as she tries to collect herself.

“Sara.”

She wearily looks up. Keiji stands in the doorway. For once, he looks anything other than composed. His hair is rumpled and his chest is heaving. He clearly ran. “You were screaming.”

Sara hiccups, desperately reaching for Keiji. “He won’t leave me alone.”

Keiji sighs heavily and joins her on the bed to wrap her in a tight hug. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

Chapter Text

She’s going to kill him.

Joe kneels at Sara’s bedside, gripping her hand and pointedly ignoring her glare as he looks up at her with large eyes and a trembling lip. “Please, Sara! You have to wake up! I can’t do this without you!”

“What,” she grits out, “do you want?”

Joe grins, squeezing her hand. “I need your help to ask out Ryoko.”

“…” Sara casts a glance at the clock. “And this couldn’t wait until not three in the morning? Without breaking into my room?”

“Sara!” Joe plops onto Sara’s bed, his weight bouncing her as she pulls her pillow over her head. “Sara. We need to make plans now.”

She growls at him, halfheartedly kicking at him. Joe laughs and catches her ankle. “Go away and come back at a reasonable time of day.”

Joe huffs and flops down beside her. “Fine.”

Sara sighs as silence fills the room, already trying to catch back up with her dream.

“Sara, can I have a pillow?”

She’s going to smother him herself.

Chapter Text

“Sorry, Sara, but I’m going to go with Keiji.”

The brief look of shock and hurt on Sara’s face has him reconsidering leaving her side for a moment. But this Keiji is a suspicious character who has already expressed a weird interest in them. Joe plans on investigating this so-called “policeman” as much as he will the area.

“So, you’re comin’ with me, huh?” Keiji rolls his neck, looking only mildly interested in the situation. Still, his sharp gaze searches Joe’s face. Joe prides himself on only squirming a little under the intense stare. Keiji shrugs and looks away. “Come on then. Let’s get moving.”

Joe nods and follows as Keiji scans the hallways and seems to pick one random. He grits his teeth at the sound of Sou’s raspy voice at his back.

“Ah, Sara. It seems as if we both are without a partner.”

Joe storms ahead, visibly surprising Keiji when he falls into step with his long stride. He sees Keiji take a look over his shoulder and hum. He turns his gaze back to Joe, who scowls at the ground under the knowing amusement in his eyes.

“If you didn’t want her to be with anyone else, why did you come with me?”

Joe scoffs. “It’s not that I don’t want her to pair off with anyone else. In fact, I’m a little afraid of us becoming too dependent on each other in…whatever this whole thing is. I just didn’t want her to pair up with him.”

“Or me,” Keiji says. It isn’t a question. “You don’t trust us?”

Joe doesn’t answer. A bead of sweat rolls down the back of his neck.

Keiji sighs as he tries the door they come across, peeking in as it easily swings open. “I don’t blame you.”

Joe glances up at Keiji. “You don’t?”

“Nah. This is… quite an unusual situation.” Keiji motions for Joe to stand outside the door as he steps inside, tension running along his frame as his gaze sweeps through the room. “I’d be more concerned if you did trust me, to be honest.”

Well that… sounds reasonable, actually. But it could also be some weird reverse psychology designed to make Joe trust him.

“Well…” He says. He clears his throat. “Good.”

Keiji grins a little and sets his hand on Joe’s head. “You’ve got a good head on your shoulders.”

Joe ducks away, flattening his hair with his hand. Warmth climbs up his cheeks despite his scowl. “Uh… thanks.”

With a chuckle, Keiji nods into the room. “C’mon then. I think it’s safe enough to investigate.”

The investigation is still out, Joe decides as he readjusts his hairpin. Keiji is still suspicious, just up there under Sou.

But maybe- maybe- he’s okay.

Chapter Text

“What the fu- what was that, Burgerberg?”

Q-taro takes a step back as Reko stomps up to him. She snarls as she grips fistfuls of his vest, yanking him down to her level. He locks eyes with her and suppresses a shudder. Her gaze shines like fire, raw with grief and rage. She’s like a wolf, angered and protective.

For the first time in many years, he fears another human.

“Wh-whaddaya mean?” His voice is rough from crying.

“Y’know exactly what I mean,” she growls, shaking his vest. He doesn’t move. “Signing Kanna ‘n Gin up for the slaughter as if they aren’t just kids!”

Ah shit, he knew that would upset some people, but Reko looks just about ready to kill him herself.

“And what was that bull back there?” She tries to shake him again. “’Prove your worth?’ They’re kids! They don’t have to prove shi- prove anything!”

Q-taro notices Reko’s hands shaking- presumably in rage- but she’s clearly still aware of herself to censor her swearing. He glances off to the side to see Gin hiding behind Nao, clutching his gloved hands to his chest. Their gazes meet and he sees the kid’s eyes are red from crying. Gin cringes and ducks behind Nao’s legs. A page of… not regret, he still stands by what he did, but it doesn’t settle well in his chest by any means.

He looks up to Keiji for help, but Mr. Friendly Policeman looks on impassively as he edges past Nao and Gin, carefully carrying Sara through the hallway to the bedrooms they had been directed to beyond the trial room.

“Try to keep it down,” he says as he passes. Q-taro can’t read his face, but that’s really nothing new. “We’re all tired. We’re all upset. We need to figure out what we’re going to do next after we get some rest, okay?”

“I’m down here, ya broken guitar string!” Reko shouts, ignoring Keiji, who shakes his head and continues on. Q-taro drags his gaze away to look back down at her. “And I want answers! Why the hell would you throw two children out like that?”

“It worked out, didin’ it?” Q-taro protests. “Kanna ‘n Gin both started talkin’ and we got somewhere! ‘S not like we had the extra time to coax it out of ‘em gently.”

Reko grits her teeth, barreling on as if she hadn’t heard him. “And all that talk about proving your worth and what not? What have you done that’s worth anything here?”

There’s a beat of silence in the air where Q-taro has to process her words. And then his mouth kicks in before his brain can react.

“I’m helpful! I’ve been doin’ lots that’s helped.”

“Yeah?” She laughs harshly, a sharp sound that bleeds the air from Q-taro’s lungs. “Like what?”

“Like, uh…” He falters, rubbing at his neck. “I uh… helped with the puzzle in the purple room.”

“You let a high school girl point a gun at your head, big whoop.” Reko jabs her finger into Q-taro’s chest. Her black lacquered nails gleam dangerously in the fluorescent lighting of the hallway. “That’s far less useful than painstakingly scrapping together shreds of paper and uncovering a major clue.”

“Well, uh…” Q-taro swallows past the tight lump in his throat. His heart tattoos his anxiety to the inside of his chest.

“Just admit I’m right!” Reko shouts. “You should have been volunteering yourself for the chopping block based off your own fucking logic!”

She’s right, he knows, and everyone else probably knows too. Q-taro leans against the wall at his back, trying to ground himself to the present. Something behind his ribcage tightens and it’s difficult to breathe.

“Big sis Reko!”

Q-taro watches distantly as a small hand reaches up for Reko, who immediately turns her attention from Q-taro down to Gin. She keeps one hand firmly clenched in his vest.

“What’s up, kiddo?” Reko visibly relaxes, the wolf lowering her hackles to interact with the young. Gin catches her hand, grinning hard enough under his mask to squish the skin near his eyes.

“I’m okay, Big Sis Reko! Muscle Gorilla can’t hurt me, meow!” Gin pulls at Reko’s hand, glancing over at Q-taro for only a moment. He pulls Reko away, closely followed by Nao.

Still, in that one second Q-taro gets the message loud and clear.

Don’t you dare try that again.

Chapter Text

“Sara! Sara Sara, ohmigod, Sara help me!”

Sara yelps as familiar hands grip her shoulders. Joe ducks down behind her, his forehead pressed between her shoulder blades as if he can hide his broad shoulders behind her frame. Keiji, who she had been speaking to before Joe interrupted, tenses as he raises an eyebrow and glances around.

“Joe? What’s wrong? What’s going on?” Her voice rises in pitch with every word. She cranes her neck to try to look over Joe’s shoulder to find… anything. Joe squeezes her shoulders briefly. She immediately relaxes at the reassurance. Not serious then.

“He’s gonna get me,” Joe whines in her ear. Keiji’s gaze catches on something over their heads and relaxes with a chuckle. He shakes his head and turns back to investigate the cigar Sara had handed him, grinning softly.

“Who’s going to-?”

A shrill cry cuts her off. “Big brother Joe!”

“He’s found me,” Joe whispers in horror. In a flash, he’s stumbled away from Sara and bolted away. “You’ll never catch me! I won’t be It again!”

Gin rushes past Sara, laughing loudly with his arms outstretched for Joe. “Hi, big sis Sara! Bye, big sis Sara!”

Joe casts a glance over his shoulder, winks at Sara, and trips. Gin immediately launches on top of him, cackling. “Oh no! I’ve been caught!”

“Tag, woof!” Gin chirps. “You’re it now, meow!”

Joe laughs as he stands. Gin’s arms wrap around his neck so he dangles off of Joe’s back like a Christmas ornament. “Alright, alright, I’m it. Hop off and get running!”

Chapter Text

“Q-taro asked me a weird question tonight.” Sara says out of the blue. Keiji looks up from the token that he’s fiddling with. They’re both in Sara’s room, sitting on her bed. The air is stilted and awkward from earlier, the elephant in the room stealing all of the oxygen from between them. But Sara had still come to find him in the lobby when she couldn’t sleep, and who was he to withhold comfort from the poor girl?

Sara lays on her back, sprawled out across the mattress with all the elegance of a newborn puppy. Her head hangs off the side of the bed, gaze tracking something he can’t see on the window’s reflection. Keiji leans back against the headboard, tucking the coin away.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm.” Sara nods, closing her eyes. “He asked if I liked anyone.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “…Okay?”

Sara sits up, holding her head for a moment before shifting to look at Keiji.

“He seemed surprised when I told him I didn’t. I never have liked anyone like that.” She looks down at her hands. “I don’t know why it bothers me now. You’d think I’d have other concerns than romance considering where we are, but…”

There’s a pause. Keiji looks down at Sara before reaching out and poking her forehead. “But?”

“But everyone says I should have.” Sara tucks a lock of hair behind her ear before batting Keiji’s hand away. “And everyone my age has at least had a crush. And I’m always told ‘you’ll find someone someday, Sara’ but…”

She has that look on her face that she gets during their group discussions, searching for the right words to say. Keiji waits for her to collect her thoughts.

“But what if I don’t really want to find anyone?”

‘You’re young’ is the first thought that comes to mind. Keiji mentally recoils, recalling every time that he himself was told the same growing up, much to his frustration. He hums, leaning back against the headboard to think on his own reply.

Sara sticks her hair behind her ear again.

“You’re young,” he finds himself saying anyways. The young girl across from him twitches, something like a frustrated resignation settling on her face. Keiji puts up his hand, catching her attention before she could shut herself away. “You shouldn’t have to concern yourself with romance yet.”

“I’m seventeen,” she says flatly. Still, that look on her face is gone. Her shoulders relax.

He nods sagely. “A toddler.”

“I’m not a toddler!” She screeches, reaching beside him to snatch up a pillow and chunk it at him. Keiji chuckles, catching the pillow and tossing it back to her. Sara huffs, propping it against his side and leaning against it. Keiji rolls his eyes fondly, letting his arm rest across her back.

“I still don’t concern myself with it,” he says after a moment. Sara hums, closing her eyes. “Can’t really see myself ever bothering with it, honestly.”

“That’s how I feel,” she murmurs. “The only person I could really see myself with…”

A small frowns ghosts across Keiji’s face as Sara presses her face to the pillow. He hesitates, then lifts his hand to lay on her head.

“Anyway,” she whispers, low enough that he nearly doesn’t hear her. “I can’t picture anyone else.”

“Don’t stress out over it, especially now.” He gently presses his knuckles to her temple before resting his hand back on her head. “Once we’re out of here, you’ll have all the time  in the world to figure things out.”

Sara hums again, nodding. “Alright.”

Chapter Text

It happens nearly a year after what they now refer to as “the Incident.” Keiji sets Sara’s coffee in front her and settles into the chair on the other side of the table. He looks back up at her after settling and finds several things... wrong. Sara cradles the cardboard cup in her hands and stares into the steam curling from the vent, clearly lost in thought. Keiji frowns.

She hasn’t said anything.

Usually this isn’t too concerning. For as well as she would handle herself during the discussions during the Incident, Sara herself has never been fond of taking. But during what has become a traditional post-therapy coffee session, she has a tendency to talk about anything and everything in order to get her mind off of the memories she has inevitably reawaken while talking with her therapist. But she’s not talking.

Which means something is wrong.

But unless she’s having difficulty finding the question she knows she needs to ask and is specifically looking to him for help, she doesn’t like having her train of thought interrupted. So Keiji sits back with his coffee and waits.

Naturally, it’s when he’s taken a sip of his coffee that she shatters his world.

“How do I become a detective?”

Keiji chokes, snatching a paper napkin to clap to his mouth. Sara has the decency to look abashed when he finally calms down and looks over at her. Something clenches tightly in his chest as this young girl he somehow accidentally brought so deep into his life steadily meets his eyes.

Sara’s hands tighten around the coffee cup. Keiji sets his own cup down with a hollow ‘thunk’. His own voice sounds just as hollow.

“You want... what?”

Sara takes a deep breath (it reminds him to breathe, to keep calm). Something in her posture shifts- shoulders pull back, her face goes a little blank. Keiji frowns. So it’s negotiation time. “I want to become a detective. Like you were.”

The ‘but better’ probably only rings in his own head, but it rings loudly, nonetheless.

“I don’t...” Keiji closes his eyes. “You have the internet to look things like this up on.”

“I wanted an inside opinion. And direction.”

Keiji scoffs softly. “I hardly count as an insider.”

“Hardly,” she echoes gently, “which means you do still count.”

Absently, he begins twisting his coffee cup, idly watching the kanji of his name spin in and out of sight. The barista who’d scrawled his name against the cardboard used the wrong characters. Blessing… “You could be a lawyer with the way you pick apart words like that.”

Sara firmly shakes her head. “I don’t ever want people’s lives in my hands again. Not in a trial.”

Keiji sits back with a sigh. “How’d you even come up with his idea?”

She hesitates. “I’ve actually been thinking about it for a while. I brought it up in therapy today and Dr. Ishikawa thought it was a good idea, provided I do it right.”

He rakes a hand through his hair and stretches his neck. A silence falls between them. His gaze finds the road, locking onto the busy traffic. Sara sips her coffee.

He hates the idea of anyone he cares about ever finding themselves in such a dangerous profession. Especially Sara. She’s gone through so much already, experienced so much loss and trauma at such a young age, he cannot fathom her being able to take on any more.

...It’s a good fit though. She’s smart as a whip and is always willing to speak her mind. Her conclusions are sometimes absolutely outlandish, but they work. And she’s adapted so well to living even with her losses.

With a heavy sigh, he rubs his temples. “You’re sure that this is what you want?”

“Yes.” The surety of her voice has him raising his gaze to hers. She meets his eyes evenly, reflecting nothing but strength and confidence.

Slowly, he nods. “Alright then. I’ll help you.”

Sara smiles.

He finds himself smiling back.

Chapter Text

Two-Steppin’

“Sou?”

A small tug at the corner of his scarf draws his attention. Instinctively, he clutches the fabric closer to his chest, even as he shifts and leans in to be more eye level with the shy girl as his side.

“Yes, Kanna?”

“Um…” She readjusts her headband nervously as she ducks away from Sou’s gaze. Sou doesn’t bother to hide his frown, considering Kanna isn’t even looking at him. She always seems to enjoy talking to him, he thinks, but she can’t maintain eye contact with anyone for the life of her, no matter her comfort level. “Sara went with Reko to do the dancing attraction.”

“You tried to ask Sara to do it with you?” He raises an eyebrow and can’t quite keep the disappointment from showing in either his face or his voice. Admittedly, he doesn’t try too hard. He’s warned her about Sara, about the dangers of getting hurt. “You know she doesn’t trust you like that anymore.”

“Kanna didn’t really get a chance to ask her,” Kanna mumbles, looking marginally less excited to be speaking to him now. Which. Okay. Hurts a little. He’s just trying to watch out for her. Still, Sou doesn’t like the idea of Kanna being mad at him, so he reaches out to gently tap the top of Kanna’s bucket headband. He smiles gently as Kanna almost immediately cheers up, meeting his gaze finally.

“Well…” He draws the word out, enjoying how Kanna’s curiosity piques. He hasn’t had the chance to see such life in her eyes. “I haven’t done this attraction yet.”

Kanna reaches out to grip his sleeve, betraying the excitement she tries to contain. Sou ducks his chin behind the scarf to mask how his grin involuntarily widens.

“Does Sou wanna dance with Kanna?”

“Kanna. I would be delighted.”

Sou is not delighted.

He’s apparently very bad at keeping up with the patterns of the brightly colored doll in front of him. He and Kanna have been trading off between every mistake they make. Kanna is good at the patterns, but her movements are too shy and so small that the sensor judging the dances can’t even pick them up.

Sou winces as Kanna’s moves fail to register again and the doll lashes out.

They need to figure something out, now.

He rushes to the dancefloor, tugging Kanna out of the way of the doll’s attack range. The girl shakes her head and breathes hard, slumping against the wall he guides her to. Sou takes a moment to look her over, assessing her. She looks small. Too small to be here.

“Let’s finish this,” Sou breathes, pushing himself to his feet and heading back out to the dancefloor. He’s stopped by a small grip on his sleeve.

Kanna meets his gaze, eyes exhausted, but sharp. “If you need help… c-call for me.”

Sou smiles. Taps the flat top of her bucket. “Of course, Kanna. Keep an eye on those patterns, alright?”

They only have this last tango to win and they can be done with this attraction.

Sou heads back out to the dancefloor, calculating eyes narrowing down at the opponent in front of him. The blank-faced doll seems to shudder in mockery of a laugh before throwing herself into a flurry of movement, pigtails flying. Sou grits his teeth, trying to memorize the moves. The doll finishes with a bounce and another tremble, gesturing for Sou to begin. He takes a deep breath and lifts his arms.

Up, down, pose, left…. Uh…

“K-kanna?” A drop of sweat rolls down the side of his face. His beanie has fallen off. “Did you catch it?”

“Pose again!” Kanna calls from behind him. Sou throws out his hand, fingers splayed, well aware that he looks like a poor parody of a boy band member. He hears Kanna giggle behind him. “Right! Pose, down, up!”

Sou holds his breath as he follows Kanna’s directions, which absolutely doesn’t help lightheadedness. He throws his hand up. His head falls back, even as he braces himself for a final blow.

But it doesn’t come.

He exhales in relief, stumbling back from the dancefloor as their success is cheerfully announced. Sou trips, falling back on his ass as he tries to catch his breath. He can only shake his head at himself. His constitution has always been rather weak.

“Sou!” Kanna runs to his side, kneeling down beside him. “Are you okay?”

He laughs breathlessly. “Yeah, Kanna. I am. Just tired.”

She seems to accept this, grabbing his arm in excitement. “We did it!”

“Yeah, we did.” He sits for a few moments before tapping Kanna’s head. “And I bet we did even better than Sara and Reko, huh.”

He half expects Kanna to defend her precious ‘big-sister’, but he’s pleasantly surprised when Kanna nods. “We’d have to, with your poses. I wonder if they took pictures…”

…Pictures?

Chapter Text

Keiji is not allowed to give up, but he’s not sure what else he can do in this situation.

He… fades a little, staring blankly at the broken exit sign buried in the rubble. He finds himself laying Q-taro down, even as Sou stumbles towards the staircase, clutching his scarf with a defeated look in his eyes. Kanna is quick to follow, verging on tears.

He can relate.

Nao lingers for a second longer before leaving, mumbling about finding Gin. Ah. Keiji missed the kid’s exit. (Oh God that poor kid.)

Sara hasn’t moved, except to clutch her tablet to her chest, knuckles white. A part of him wonders what card she has, since that’s relevant now. (He doesn’t like the answer he comes up with.)

“Sara,” Keiji says. Tries to say. His mouth is dry. Nothing comes out. Instead, he lays a hand on her shoulder to steady her. Her lack of reaction stirs some sense of concern in his gut. Keiji clears his throat and is relieved when his voice works for him. “Okay… Okay, Sara. Let’s sit down for a second.”

Again, she doesn’t respond and panic crowds his throat. She does obey though, so he gets her settled against the wall and pulls the tablet from her grip. He sets it beside her. His hands are shaking.

He hopes for her to be okay, but wonders if it would even matter, considering where they’re all headed.

Keiji woodenly turns to the pile of rubble concealing their only hope. His eyes land on the broken exit sign. He reaches for it.

He can’t, of course, it’s much too far away. Instead, he gets a handful of rubble. Keiji pulls it away. Tosses it behind him.

“What are you doing?” He hears Sou say behind him. Poor guy sounds like he’s seconds away from hysterics.

“Thought you left,” he replies.

“There’s no point!” Sou shouts, plowing on as if Keiji hadn’t spoken. “We’re stuck. We failed.”

“What else can I do?” Keiji dares to laugh. He’s sure Sou can hear how hollow it is as clearly as he can.

Gravel crunches as Sou shifts behind him to walk away. “I don’t know. I-I don’t… know…”

Keiji has always wanted to protect people. It was why he chose the career he did. And while that course failed him, he still has that chance to save the others. (Fifty coins rattle in his pocket as he shoves aside another boulder. He thinks of Sara, of the card she could have in her possession.)

These arms are meant to protect.

He’d only been half joking when he’d said that to Sara. Half of the joke that was there had been that he valued his own life far too highly.

(Fifty coins he won’t give up jingle brightly.)

But this? Shoving aside rubble and debris in a in a futile hope for freedom?

This he can do.

He’s not allowed to give up.

So he won’t.

Chapter Text

“Would you die for Sara?”

Keiji slips on the rubble, the sudden question causing him to lose his focus on his balance. He has to drop his handful of debris to catch himself as he slides to the bottom of the pile. His palms sting as he picks himself up. He clears his throat as he turns to face Sou.

“What?”

Sou doesn’t even take the opportunity to laugh at him, too busy glaring at the ground in front of him. One hand fists tightly in his scarf. The other clutches a ratty wallet so tightly the knuckles are white. He’s shaking. The kid in front of him takes a steadying breath.

“If… say, uh. Say Sara had the Sacrifice-” Keiji ignores the chill that slides down his spine, refusing to think about Sou rushing out of the room, the subsequent trade announcement, Sara panicking. Sou shudders, gripping his scarf more tightly. “Say Sara had the Sacrifice card and you know she wouldn’t pick you- and we all know she would, but let’s just imagine for a second!”

The words tumble out in a rough waterfall, panicked and rushed and scared. Sou hiccoughs. He’s verging on tears and Keiji has the stray thought that he should try to calm him down.

“Would you expose her? Would you sentence her to death, Keiji? Or… or would you…”

Keiji takes a moment to turn the words over in his mind, reflecting on his mental spreadsheet of who has what card. Sou’s panicking for a reason, but it doesn’t sound like it’s for himself. There’s… really only one person that he might be this stressed over, but Keiji had just assumed it was an unbalanced relationship between the two. A parasitic one, even. Nothing that would have Sou acting like this.

Five minutes ago, a trade announcement had broken his mindless stupor. Keiji had immediately checked his tablet with hands he refused to acknowledge were shaking- he was still clear. His plan could be adapted however it needed to be, even if someone had forcibly traded with an unconscious Q-taro. He knows Gin has had a commoner’s card this whole time and no one here would be dirty enough to trade with a 12 year old, no matter how scared they were. He would assume the same with Kanna, but who else would have Sou so frantic?

Sara… he knows Sara would never trade it away, but would Kanna…?

He shakes the thought away. He has no confirmation that Sara ever had that cursed card.

Sou’s breath hitches. “No? You would let her get away with it?”

“Lost in thought, sorry,” he answers immediately, still processing the new data. “What’s with the interrogation?”

Sou laughs. The thin, reedy sound grates against his ears. “What? A guy can’t ask questions of morality and ethics in his last moments?”

“’Last moment’?” Keiji echoes. “You that convinced this is it for you?”

“You all hate me.” Sou shoots Keiji a cool, blank look. It gives so much more away than Keiji’s practiced nonchalance ever would. “This is it for me.”

Considering Keiji’s in possession of the only card that would for sure save Sou, he’s in no position to argue that point. So he doesn’t.

“You gave Sara the Sacrifice.” He keeps his voice flat, carefully void of any emotion.

Sou huffs, then laughs softly. He doubles over, clutching his scarf and his hat and his jacket as if trying to keep himself together even as his laughter grows… hysterical. Keiji swallows, taking a step towards the other. The laughter ceases.

“…Sou?”

“I guarantee you, Mr.Policeman , she doesn’t have it anymore,” Sou whispers. He pulls the wallet to his chest, taking a step backwards towards the stairs. “I have to fix- hngh! ”

Sou slumps, dropping his wallet as he clasps a hand to the side of his neck. Keiji starts, then rushes forward as Sou hits the ground.

“What’s-?” A sharp prick stings the side of his neck. Keiji sinks to a knee, his own hand clamping over his collar. “Oh.”

“W-wait…” He hears Sou breathe. His voice is heavy and labored. “I-I wanted… I needed to… Kanna…”

Keiji shakes his head, grimacing as his forehead presses harshly against the rubble. “…I don’t… know if I could do that, Sou. Let her win.”

“…huh…” Sou manages to roll, to give one last pained look at Keiji. “Maybe in the end… I am better than you.”

He closes his eyes and Keiji huffs softly.

Most people are, he thinks as he loses consciousness.

Chapter Text

Perhaps it is simply another way for the Floor Masters to make the participants of the death game uncomfortable, but Alice finds the heat on this particular floor to be unbearable. If he thinks about it, the first floor had been rather cold, but he had chalked it up to his drab prison garb. Maybe it had simply been cold then.

He finds himself sitting at one of the tables in the Relaxation Room with the sleeves of his suit pulled up and leaning against the cool glass in hopes to cool off. He stares into the garden, absently wondering if it were any cooler in there than out here. Presumably not.

“ Stripey?”

Alice pulls his gaze away from the garden, focusing on the glass to watch the shifting reflection of the boy at his elbow. The kid has his hood pulled back as much as he can without it falling off his head, but otherwise he does not seem to acknowledge the heat. Gin peers curiously at his arm, reaching up to tap at the exposed skin of Alice’s forearm. Swallowing a sigh, Alice pulls away from the glass to look down at the child.

“ Yes, Gin? How can I assist you today?”

Gin takes a moment to respond, the claws of his gloves lightly pricking along the thick black lines etched into Alice’s skin. The child’s eyes are wide with wonder as he looks over Alice’s arm.

“ Are these tattoos?”

“ Indeed they are.” Alice gently pulls his arm back, turning his forearm up and pulling at his sleeve to reveal a veritable bouquet climbing up his arm in black ink. Flowers press tightly together under his elbow and spread as they crawl towards his shoulder, wrapping around his upper arm. Sunflowers tilt their faces up, shading a group of roses and daffodils clustered underneath. Priories peep their way through the open space and cherry blossoms fall freely around the bouquet. Alice cannot help how his face softens when he views his arm. He hides his expression when he sees Gin’s look of awe as he looks over the sleeve.

Gin’s eyes squish at the corners as he beams up at Alice. “Did you get these while you were in prison, woof?”

Alice splutters, affronted for a moment before crossing his arms. “I most certainly did not! I had this done long before that, when-“

He cuts himself off, staring at a sunflower that peeps up at him. Gin seems to catch on, his excitement quieting. “...When you and Big Sis Reko got along?”

“ ...Indeed.” He slowly nods. “They are very important to me.”

He turns his gaze back to the glass, unwilling to carry the conversation further. Gin’s reflection shifts and he stares down at his pink pillow companion before shoving it into Alice’s arms. Instinctively, he wraps his arms around the plush, turning his gaze down to look at it, then at Gin.

He looks smaller without the stuffed animal to bulk him up. His feet shuffle and he rubs his arms, but meets Alice’s confused gaze, eyes blazing.

“ I need to go get something, so I’m gonna trust you to watch over Mew-Chan! I’ll be right back, so no funny business, meow! Okay, Stripey?” Gin charges him with such a look that Alice can only nod, dumbfounded. The kid heads for the door, then pauses. “Mew-Chan’s also a good listener, if you gotta talk to someone. He’s never told anyone any of my secrets!”

“ ...Thank you, little Gin.”

“ Don’t call me little!” The kid shouts as he scampers out towards the lobby.

Alice hides a soft smile behind his hand as he chuckles. Something long-forgotten bubbles in his chest- a protective instinct that he firmly stamps down. He cannot afford distractions in this harrowing time. Reko is his priority. She must live at all costs.

It does not take long before the child returns, scampering into the room with his hands behind his back. His eyes scrunch up at the corners, which Alice takes to mean that he’s grinning widely. Gin bounces up to Alice’s side, reaching out for his toy. Alice wordlessly hands Mew-chan over, debating if he should simply lean over to see what Gin has behind his back. It proves unnecessary, since Gin properly sets Mew-Chan on the table and holds out his other hand.

He clutches a thin, yellow box of markers in his gloved hands.

“ Um…” Gin lapses into silence, feet shuffling. Alice leans in to hear him better. “Can I... color your arm?”

“…excuse me?” Baffled, Alice sits back. Gin ducks his head, almost looking embarrassed. Almost. His eyes still light with excitement.

“Your tattoos. I want to color them, woof!”

He looks at the box of markers, at his arm, and then at Gin. A smile quirks at his lips as he holds out his arm, tattoos up. Gin eagerly pops open the marker box and dumps the markers on the table, plucking up a few markers- blue, red, yellow- and taking to the roses in the bouquet in his arm.

The way he colors outside the lines in the way that only children can forces Alice to hide a wince, but he cannot say anything to deter the child. As he watches, the tension leaks from Gin’s shoulders and he begins humming, bobbing his head to the rhythmless tune. Color bleeds across his arm as Gin swaps markers in and out. He finds himself relaxing, idly watching his bouquet gain new ink.

“Did Mew-chan help, Stripey?”

He pauses, then smiles. “Indeed he did, young Gin.”

“Don’t call me young, meow!”