Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The return from one dimension to the other had gone without a hitch. After defeating Taisei and stopping the inflow of new participants, they had been able to return from this world to the original one little by little. The effort was hard on Yuri, who spent countless hours asleep, trying to recuperate. Soon, there was only their little group left, Yuri herself, her brother Rika, Mayuko, of course, and Yuuka, along with Kuon's spirit. In an hospital bed still laid Senya as well.

That last point convinced Yuuka to leave, ultimately. He had told Rika, so many months ago, that he'd stay, but with Senya there, he had decided to go back with him, leave him to human doctors and surgeons instead of a single inhuman mask, bring him back to his family, somehow. And apologize.

Kuon stayed behind, still not decided on spending some of the little energy that was still flowing to get a body back. But the energy was needed to end things, and she couldn't leave her dear friends behind like that, just to go back to another life of endless and lonely competition. That day, she was accompanying Mayuko to look for more food. Staying behind was nice but the three alive ones left still needed to eat.

Rika was sitting on the side of Yuri's bed, wiping the sweat off her forehead, watching her face contort in pain. She could never sleep peacefully anymore. The more time passed, the more of her it took to maintain the boundaries.

One thing Rika feared was that they'd need to resort to what the previous administrator had to undergo in order to keep things flowing. He had been there before the beginning and Yuri was closing up. The charge was similar. Rika had no god he could pray but he wished he'd never have to open his sister's head like that.

“Brother...” Yuri said weakly.

As a reflex, he squeezed the hand he held in his. “What is it, Yuri?”

Her eyes blankly staring at the ceiling of the dark room, deep circles under them that no amount of sleep could get rid of, she squeezed his hand back.

“I want to go home.. I am so tired.”

“I know.” He gently brushed away the hair sticking to her face.

“Don't you want to go home, too?” she said. She still wasn't looking at him but Rika could tell she was on the verge of tears. “I can send you back before I close the boundary for good.” He handed her a glass of water. She drank it without daring to look at him still. “I asked Nise-chan and she said she had nothing to go back to.” A humorless laugh. “It's funny, too, considering we met when we were both despairingly trying to escape. But you... Brother, you have something to go back to. You can go back home, get your life back, go back to school and get a nice job. Even your brother has gone back..”

After many investigations and tries, Yuri and Kuon had determined that it would be impossible to definitely close the realm and get the Administrator – so Yuri – back without endangering life on Earth. The realm would close with the Administrator's death. Yuri had accepted that, though, given how much how much it took of her, she probably wouldn't live that much longer. A year or two at most, from Kuon's estimations. But after her death, the others would be stuck as well. And with the boundaries closed, they weren't sure if there'd even still be deliveries of food. Or if the realm wouldn't simply.. stop existing.

Still, it was their choice.

“Yuri,” Rika said, trying to decide which words to speak out loud and which to keep for himself, “Yuu-chan has a habit of shouldering everything by himself and leaving others behind. I'm not like him, I've done everything not to be and be a good brother instead. I won't leave you here alone, especially not when you're suffering like that.”

“But what about mom and dad?”

“I won't go back without you.” This was final. He hadn't even considered another option. And even when presented with one, he refused to consider it. Plus, it wasn't he could go back and announce that he'd left Yuri behind, either, could he? “Yuri,” he said, waiting for her to look at him before continuing, “it's not home for me if you're not there.”

With a slow swipe of his thumb on her cheek, he wiped the single grateful tear that fell.

Chapter Text

Everyone had returned. Everyone, or almost. Some of them couldn't, and the rest of them chose to stay with them until the end. What did they have left to lose, anyway? Only their lives, one better spent by the side of the ones they loved, to support them until the end.

If they stopped to think about it all – and Rika did that a lot – they understood that said end would come sooner rather than later.

Yuuka tried not to think about it as he sat by the bed, holding a hand that looked too pale, even when he took his black gloves off. Footsteps behind him. He didn't need to look to know who it was. He had long since remembered the footsteps of each and every one of them. And then their numbers dwindled. And then some more. And Yuri's condition got worse until, apart from himself, only three people were left walking around. Rika, Mayuko Nise, and that one neutral mask that acted as a medic. Though, technically, he couldn't be labelled a person, they still talked to him like he was. It made them feel less lonely.

The footsteps stopped by the door. Yuuka still didn't look. If his ears were picking up on everything in a range a bit too large, his eyes were lost on the still and pale face resting on the white pillow. His hair had grown in the past month. His heart was still beating because they were forcing it to, Yuuka knew it. But he couldn't help himself. He needed that. Needed to feel the pulse under his fingers as he held his little hand.

Needed the hope he'd one day open his eyes.

“Sniper,” said Mayuko Nise, “Honjo-san will soon stop being able to transfer anyone back.”

He stayed silent, his mouth too dry. He knew what she meant. They all knew it. He was the only one who still could make a choice. Mayuko Nise and Rika would never leave Yuri Honjo's side, even if it killed them. Loyal to a fault, too full of love to look at anything else.

But then again, that was his case too. The sole reason he'd actually make the trip back never to come back.

He nodded, though Mayuko Nise couldn't see his face.

“Mister Mask,” said a voice in his mind, “we're not sure what will happen when Yuri-san will...” she hesitated, the word on the tip of her tongue. Then she decided against it. “When she will close the border for good.”

“It could make the world disappear for good all at once, it could bring all the ones left back, it could still exist on its own,” he remembered. “And if it still exists on its own, we don't know in which state it'll be left.”

“Right,” Kuon said, something akin to pity in her voice. “That could kill the neutral masks left and that could also stop the food supplies, the electricity and running water.”

They needed electricity to keep Senya alive. Kuon alone wouldn't be able to supply all the machinery – and even if she could, he'd never ask that of her.

“I know,” he said, almost a whisper. “I'm bringing him back.” Kuon nodded, sadness apparent on her face. “We could bring you back too, you know,” he added.

She shook her head and told him just once more, one last time, why she would never do that. He gritted his teeth as he listened to the end anyway. He'd need the reminder.

They went to tell Rika and Yuri.

Whatever was in Rika's eyes hurt him physically. He took it like a punch to the gut. That boy had grown so guarded, his expression so stoic most of the time, that Yuuka wasn't even able to tell for sure that he was sad to see him for the last time, mad, perhaps, that he left them behind, or even relieved at least one of them would escape from this hell. Whichever one it was didn't make a difference to Yuuka. He would never be able to forget it.

Before Yuri made them go back, Rika took him by the shoulder, a bit to the side, so they could talk with a semblance of privacy.

“Hey, I know you're gonna have your hands full with the whole situation but if you can, could you..” he swallowed with difficulty, “could you tell my mom and dad what happened? That I'm sorry I couldn't protect Yuri better than that..?” He glanced toward his sister, who was focusing as best as she could to gather only the right amount of power to send them back – and not blow them into nothingness.

Yuuka felt his guts twist. He promised.

He knew he wouldn't.

Mayuko Nise was the next one to approach him. She handed him one of her knives, one that could be folded and fit in his pocket.

“Hey, no matter what happens here... Please don't forget me, alright? It's a good knife but I won't have much use for it here anymore so you have it.”

Yuuka knew the significance of this gift. Mayuko Nise cared about her knives almost as much as she cared about Yuri Honjo. This was a farewell gift. He handed her his hat.

“It fits you. You better take care of it.”

She nodded and left for Kuon to take her place.

Silence grew. Yuuka didn't know what he could say and visibly Kuon was debating over what to say and what to keep for herself.

“Nothing that happened here,” she ended up saying, “nothing is your fault. Staying behind is our choice.”

He felt his eyes well up. “I know.” And once again he wished she had gotten her body back. A goodbye hug was what he needed at that moment. He'd never get it. She was intangible. It was his fault. His throat was tight.

Yuuka was standing near the hospital bed, maskless, hatless, feeling bare and vulnerable, holding a dying boy's hand. He looked at the railgun tower. In less than a second, he was back.

In front of an hospital, too. Had Yuri Honjo calculated it or was it a complete coincidence from where they were standing in the high-rise world? He didn't care, he didn't have the time, didn't have the brain power to. All his senses were getting assaulted. Still, he rushed and asked for help as best as he could. The eyes on him were wide and a bit scared. He did appear out of nowhere along with an hospital bed. It took a few seconds for the hospital staff to understand what exactly happened.

“Are you also a returnee?”

He nodded, overwhelmed.

Everything was so loud. His heightened senses, so vital where he came from, were only enabling this violence. He could barely stand but he tried. He did it. He stayed. He talked and listened. Senya Matsuda, he told them. He'd been in a coma for a few months. No, he didn't know the exact length of time. Please, could they save him?

They took Senya one way, and Yuuka another. They sat him down, tried to calm him down. He could barely hear them. His ears were tracking Senya's heartbeat. He regretted not holding his hand yet again. This felt more real that one heartbeat among so many other. Did he have someone they could call? No, not for Matsuda but for him. He shook his head. Someone was whimpering. Hospitals were so loud. But the whimpering was him, actually. He broke down.

Senya's parents arrived an hour later. They were disheveled and panicked, their faces red and wet from crying. It was the middle of the day, they must have left work in a hurry. Yuuka's ears were still hurting. Someone had given him something to cover them. It didn't do much but he was grateful.

They couldn't see their son right now. He was still with the doctors. Yuuka hadn't heard exactly. Or rather, he had, but as the same time as he had a thousand other things. Some nurses were there to explain the Matsuda what had happened ever since Yuuka had appeared there with their son. Yuuka could only stare blankly at the cold coffee at the bottom of his paper cup.

The nurse had to get back to work, leaving him alone with the couple. They sat down next to him. They saw how shaken he looked. They didn't touch him. He was grateful for that. They asked his name. He gave it. Didn't look their way. They didn't push. He braced himself, gathering himself, trying to drown the noise with the words he repeated in his head. He needed to do it.

On shaking legs he stood, turned to Mr. and Mrs. Matsuda. He looked at them, took in the sliver of hope on their otherwise despaired faces. He knelt down, face against the ground. And he said it.

“I'm sorry.” It was too loud for his ears but it was merely a whisper. He said it again, louder. “I'm sorry.” His hands were shaking. Probably his hands weren't the only ones. “I tried to protect him, I did all I could, I swear.. But still, he...” The words strangled him. He didn't manage to say anything else. He just knelt there at their feet, waiting for the condemnation.

He didn't even know if it came, or if they said something to him at all. Everything was too loud, it all blended together, and his own traitorous blood kept beating in his ears, almost drowning everything else.

He tried. He tried all he could. Little by little, he got used to hearing too much. He could focus on people talking, now. That was great progress, honestly. Some higher-ups asked for his testimony regarding the situation on the other world. He tried his best, describing everything he could, answering all their questions, only keeping silent on what was of the world right now, if there were people left. He didn't say a word. Couldn't.

A week later, he got a call. Senya had died. He attended the funeral. He saw Kyouko Oribe, there. And that Nanami kid. They looked at each other, a silent acknowledgement, but didn't speak a word. Yuuka wondered what had happened to Nanami. Her dad had died when she was on the other side.. Did she even have anything left? No adult was accompanying her to the funeral.

It went on for a while. He couldn't get a job, knew he shouldn't, but his savings hadn't disappeared somehow. He survived. This was harder than the high-rise world. But he still survived. He had given up completely on being cool. Rika would have the satisfaction of seeing he won by default when he'd come back.

Life went on as it could. Yuuka didn't approach the Honjo family's house. He knew full well where it was. He knew where both the parents worked – he steered clear from there too.

Regularly, he went to Senya's grave. He talked to the boy, hoping his lost soul would still hear him. He was coming back home from a visit when he felt it.

Something snapped. Something disappeared. He couldn't hear anything. A part of him had vanished.

The other Judge was no more. And there was not even need for a Judge anyway. There wasn't anything left. It was all gone.

He fell to his knees. The scream that left his lungs was anything but human. It hurt. It all hurt so much. The world didn't stop spinning. But to him it did. There was nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing in this world for him anymore.

His hope had died. For real this time.

He had no air in his lungs anymore but he still needed to scream. Scream. Scream to hear something, to feel the tear, to ignore the streaks the tears left on his face, that his nails dug in his skin. Drops fell on the floor. He felt cold.

There was a weight in his pocket. It was always there. He kept it on him at all times. So he wouldn't forget. So he could give it back. But now...

He took it out. Opened it. The blade was beautiful. He could almost make out his reflection in it. He didn't look like himself. He hadn't since he had taken off that damned mask. That uniform white, that forced smile, they felt more him than his actual features. He closed his eyes.

And prayed nobody would find him before it was too late.