Chapter Text
Arisu…thank you.
The last few seconds between the emergence of his best friend onto the scene, and the brutal explosion of his collar had been oddly peaceful.
Between running for his life, and clawing his way across the ground, he had expected to feel something more— anger, fear, desperation. But as he began to hear his friend’s cries through the headset, begging for forgiveness— to trade in his own life for that of his friends, he had known.
This wouldn’t be his story to continue.
He was injured— axed brutally through the side multiple times, and any usefulness he would have had through his physical strength would have been for nought.
He had always said that Arisu would be the one to survive anyhow.
So he sits there, waiting, eyes concentrating on the far distance.
Then the collar goes off.
**
The world goes pitch black for a moment— then the dissolving world around him comes falling back into place like building blocks.
He sits bolt upright, sweating and gasping for air.
His lungs burn, as if every intake would be his last. Because it was. Or had been.
Blinking rapidly, he lets out a shaky breath, looking down at his hands.
They were there— solid skin and flesh. The same hands that he had known his whole life.
But why? What had happened? Had this…had this all been a dream?
Fumbling around in the semi-darkness, guided only by moonlight, Karube feels around, returning only with a hand full of soft sheets.
His heart pounds, fear descending upon him.
All his life, he had never known such comfort. So where was he?
Leaping out of the bed, he runs towards the walls, in search of a light switch.
With confusion, he notices that the wound on his side is gone, feeling lighter on his feet than ever. His fingers finally make contact with a switch, and light immediately floods the room.
He swallows.
Expensive furniture and plants adorn the room, with a massive bed in the centre. Everything is neat, ordered in a way that his life on earth for the past few decades had never been.
With a huff of disbelief, he knows— this was definitely not any place that he was familiar with.
So did that mean that he had somehow survived the games? Had Arisu and Chota taken him out of the arena and tended to his wounds? Or had he merely been kidnapped?
Torn between yelling out for his friends, and staying silent in case it was the latter, he quietly tiptoes towards the door and cracks it open.
The only thing he notices is a further expanse of expensive furniture, and shelves filled with books and manga. He raises an eyebrow.
Tentatively, he lets out a call, his voice rough from lack of use.
“Ya. Arisu? Chota?”
There’s no response. He swallows.
Creeping further into the house, he suddenly sees a figure, and he startles.
“Fuck!” he yells, before falling back onto the sofa. Heart in his throat, he notices that it’s not a person, but a mirror.
But that person in the mirror was most definitely nobody that he recognised.
Hands shaking, he gets back up, before walking up close to the mirror.
What the fuck…?
Turning his face slightly, he frowns.
The man in the mirror looked neat, with dark, silky hair parted to the sides— none of that scruffy, buzzed, blonde roughness that Karube had become overly familiar with.
His face was also clean shaven, with soft skin and firm lips.
Karube bares his teeth momentarily, and watches his reflection follow suit with an odd confusion.
No— somehow this person did look like Karube. If Karube had been born into a different world.
With a frown, he looks around and notices an ID card lying on the table.
Snatching it up, he examines the face and name, furrowing his well-kept eyebrows.
Kurosawa Yuichi, huh?
So had he really been reborn? Every single part of his previous life left behind?
Was he really just supposed to accept that?
Maybe this is my punishment for living the type of life I led…or judgment for my last moments in the games, he thinks distantly to himself.
But what about Arisu and Chota? What about Emi?
God, he had even been about to propose…what would have happened to them all?
Clenching his fingers over his ID, he closes his eyes.
No— maybe this was his chance to start afresh. He had been given a second chance.
As much as he didn’t regret giving up his previous life for Arisu, he wouldn’t waste another chance to live.
“Stop hanging around us and live a normal life,” he had remembered telling Arisu.
Perhaps this was his chance to follow his own advice.
Rushing around the neatly kept apartment, he looks around for a phone, and picks it up— he needed every piece of information he could get to become adjusted to his new life.
The first thing he’s faced with is a flurry of texts, all from different people.
Hah, this guy’s popular, Karube thinks with a scoff to himself, before swiping away to get to the search engine for the latest news.
Unsurprisingly, it’s filled with the same old content— the latest sporting accomplishments, and warnings against home break-ins. Nothing about an empty Tokyo or death games.
Quickly, he swipes to the call function and types in Arisu’s number.
“Come on, come on,” he mutters to himself.
No response.
Frustrated, he punches in Chota’s number, and lets it ring.
No response either.
Running a hand through his hair, he slumps down.
So it seemed that he was in an entirely different world now. Could it be that the others had also been reincarnated?
With a groan, he leans back. There would be no way to tell.
As he lies back, arm over his eyes, the world gradually fades away, and he falls into sleep.
**
Immediately, he’s woken up by the sound of a call.
“Hello?” he asks, voice rough.
“What do you mean hello? Why aren’t you at work yet? It’s almost 10 o’clock! The new client has been waiting here for half an hour!” comes the snappish voice of an older man, and Karube’s eyes squint.
Hah?
What— oh.
“Oh. Oh! I’ll be there right away,” he gets out, before abruptly hanging up.
Fuck.
He had never even considered that he would still need to go to work, and fulfil the obligations that this Kurosawa had left behind. This wasn’t like the empty Tokyo he had come to know— to keep his apartment, and a roof over his head, he would need to go to work.
He groans, mussing a hand through his hair.
He didn’t even know what this guy did.
Quickly making his way towards his closet, he’s met with an entire rack of suits, and he frowns.
They were nothing like the tank tops and loose-flowing Hawaiian shirts that he had always worn.
Gritting his teeth, he pulls one out at random, and shimmies his way into it. Why the hell did this guy have so many three piece suits and vests? Why didn’t he just wear something quick and easy to get into like everyone else?
The quick glance over to the other side of the wardrobe filled with turtlenecks and coats doesn’t do much to ease his worries, either.
Furrowing his brows, he quickly runs out the door and onto the street, hailing a cab.
“Can ya get me to this location?” he unsurreptitiously shoves his ID card into the driver’s face, expression threatening.
With some light coaxing, he manages to get to his workplace in ten minutes flat.
Out of breath, the minute he arrives through the doors, he’s met with a crowd of people.
“Kurosawa-san, you’re finally here!” a cute female co-worker calls out, grabbing his arm.
“We were so worried when you didn’t come!” another one coos, swarming around him.
“What happened to your hair?”
Distantly, Karube blinks, slightly taken aback at the attention, before his lip curls.
Women. Now that was more of his language.
Before he can say a word, he’s suddenly ushered away by another man.
“Kurosawa-san, you better hurry— the client’s just over by the far desk,” the man points, before abruptly turning tail and running away, fear evident on his face.
Karube blinks, before turning around. In front of him is a portly man with a glare, anger almost radiating off of him in waves.
Walking up to him, he almost rolls up his sleeves and asks what the other wants, when he remembers that he’s an entirely different person now.
It wouldn’t be worth it ruining everything on only his first day.
“Apologies for arriving late…sir,” he smiles almost unnaturally, before folding his arms behind his back.
Fuck. So what now?
He wasn’t trained in any of this. He didn’t even know what he was supposed to be doing.
This was more of Chota’s forte.
The other only continues glaring at him, anger clearly intensifying by the second.
“Some nerve of yours,” the man finally says after several moments, standing up. He moves forward, every movement threatening.
Instincts kicking in, Karube clenches his fists in kind.
Okay. If the old man wanted to fight, he’d be more than happy to indulge him. As he launches back, someone steps into his periphery.
“W-wait! Here is your tea, sir,” a quivering voice calls out, and they both turn to see a man in a suit standing there, large puppy eyes downcast as he holds out a tea tray.
Karube blinks. Huh?
The older man also pauses, frowning.
“Well set it down,” he says, making a shooing motion.
“O-of course,” the puppy-like man replies, before placing a careful hand on the elder’s shoulder.
Karube raises an eyebrow.
What the hell was this guy doing?
The older man clearly startles as well for a second, before the younger straightens up with a nod.
“I will go prepare the usual!” he calls out, running away.
Moments later, he appears with a large plate of cake, to which the older man’s eyes light up.
Somehow, the next few moments go smoothly, despite Karube not saying much. By some miracle, the only thing he had really gotten was that the deal would be closed, and that the older man had enjoyed his stay.
After the doors close shut, he’s left standing near the desk alone with the puppy-like man.
“I’ll be going now,” the puppy-like man nods once, almost nervously, before moving to leave.
“Wait!” Karube calls out against his will, one hand around the other’s arm.
What the hell’s with this guy? Why did he help me all of a sudden?
He squints slightly, examining the other’s face, from his fluffy hair to his large eyes to his rabbit-like lips, before exhaling.
I’m glad that he was here though…he really helped me out.
“Thanks,” he nods once, to which the other man looks down, blinking rapidly.
“O-oh. No problem,” he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck. If Karube didn't know better, he would have thought the other man was blushing.
A few seconds pass, before Karube feels the need to fill in the awkward silence.
“Just askin’, but how’d you know what the client wanted?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. The man freezes up, eyes wide.
“Oh! I- I’ve spoken to him before, and remembered, so…” he trails off awkwardly.
“Oy,” Karube calls out, to which the man tenses up.
“You were trying to help me, weren’t you? You’re a pretty nice guy, y’know?” Karube beams, baring his teeth slightly.
The other stares up at him, before looking away, as if caught.
“It’s- it’s no problem,” he mumbles again, before turning tail.
“What the heck…?” Karube mutters to himself, before leaning back.
His eyes focus in on the tuft of bedhair sticking out of the back of the man’s head, and his lips quirk upwards to himself.
Cute.