Chapter Text
“And now! The final lap for the hundred-metre freestyle!”
Cheers ring out through the stadium, accompanied with fists pumping into the air. Flags of all colours whip about like crazy, silent support for the ten swimmers racing for the best time in this year’s Paralympics.
“Currently in the lead is none other than Josh Manifold from L’manberg!”
With each powerful stroke, Josh puts more and more distance between himself and his competitors. Water sprays into the air with each raise of his arm, each slip back into the water as fluid as can be.
He’s almost there, closing the distance ever so quickly. Adrenaline rushes through his veins, heart pounding, coursing blood drowning out all sound. Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in…
He’s going to win L’manberg’s first medal. He’s going to win L’manberg’s first gold medal for the Paralympics. He needs to get to the end, to make his brother pr—
Then, the cramps start.
Josh cries out, muscles straining and tightening. He bats the water uselessly with his other arm, panic rearing its head like an ugly beast. He wants to call out, but he goes under and water pours into his nose, his mouth, burning his lungs.
Burning.
So painful.
So, so…
Painful.
*
“You think he’ll be alright?” Ranboo wonders.
Niki, Ranboo and H. Bomb emerge from the Stadium, shortly after that terrible incident. Their very own L’manbergian athlete’s arm cramped and had to be rescued by a coach. The furious crowd was then ushered out of the Stadium while he received medical attention.
“Probably.” H. Bomb whistles, hands shoved into his pockets. “I mean, he’s not dead.”
Josh was brought immediately to the infirmary, a short white building beside the hotel. He wasn’t in any life-threatening danger, last Niki heard.
“Want to grab some lunch?” H. Bomb asks, gesturing at a cafeteria set up within the Paralympics grounds. “It’s all healthy food, but hey, it’s better than nothing.”
“I would love to eat healthy food,” Niki says.
“When’s the next event?” Ranboo asks. “The one your friend’s taking part in?”
That’s right. They are here for H. Bomb’s old friend and roommate, Shelby Shubble, participating in the archery competition later in the afternoon. Niki can’t wait to see her in action—a friend of her boss’ is a friend of hers indeed.
H. Bomb glances at his watch. “Relax. We’ve got another three hours or so. I—”
Before H. Bomb can continue, the loudspeaker above their heads blare with a crackly voice. Niki jumps, a hand shooting to her chest to calm her racing heart. As with the other Paralympics-goers, she finds herself looking to the loudspeaker for the sudden announcement.
“To all guests in the Golden Village, please remain calm.”
A shiver shoots up Niki’s spine. What is that supposed to mean? Remain calm?
“A murder has occurred in the Village grounds. I repeat, a murder has occurred in the Village grounds. We’d like all guests to remain calm and—”
The announcer’s pleas fall on deaf ears. From the very first scream of “Murder”, chaos descends upon the grounds. Shrieks rip at Niki’s eardrums, and the crowd dissolves into a right panic. Niki is shoved against Ranboo, who nearly topples to the ground. H. Bomb grunts, keeping a hand firmly on both their shoulders as the trio does all they can from being whisked away.
“What were they thinking?” H. Bomb hisses.
Like a protective father, he shuttles them from the stampeding crowd headed for the entrance to the Village. Niki gasps for breath as she slumps against a wall, a small alcove away from the pandemonium. Ranboo stares, eyes wide, at the mindless horde struggling to get out.
“What the hell…” Niki mumbles.
Her curse is drowned by the fast-approaching wail of sirens. The skid of tyres on the asphalt draws a relieved sigh from Niki’s throat. The LPF is here. They’re sure to get this situation under control.
The police storm the area, armed with shields and pistols, ordering the people to stay back and within the grounds. Niki extricates herself from the niche, along with both H. Bomb and Ranboo.
“Alright, back up, pussies!”
Wait. Niki knows that voice.
A familiar figure stands behind the barrier of officers, alongside a partner draped in green and white. Niki recognizes the young detective, but the older man is an alien face. The man makes an announcement through his megaphone, demanding silence from the enraged and fearful crowd.
“No one’s leaving till we figure out what’s going on!” His voice booms. “So, sit tight and wait for further notice! We’ll make sure that no harm comes to you!”
“What’s going on…?” Ranboo wrings his hands. “Why’d this have to happen?”
Caught up in a murder investigation on the day they were to cheer a friend on? How incredibly unlucky. Was this written into their Fates somewhere?
“Let’s catch our breath, yeah?” H. Bomb says, totally unbothered by the whole scenario. The mayhem seems to be under control now, and the frazzled guests have calmed down. “I don’t think we’ll be doing much for the next few hours or so.”
“But what about Miss Shubble’s…” Niki starts. H. Bomb sighs.
“Postponed, probably. And she was so excited about it, too.”
Niki can imagine. To have your event cancelled, and because of a murder of all things, it must be pretty taxing on Miss Shubble. For now, though, they’ll just have to wait.
And wait, and wait.
And wait.