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Sora needed a fucking break.
As it stood, she was a mess—all of the people she would consider friends were either dead or not talking to her. The stress from searching for Teruya, as well as the need for constant vigilance due to Mikado’s machinations, was enough to make her head hurt and her chest feel like it was being squeezed by a hydraulic press.
In short, Sora needed a day, or even just a moment to herself otherwise her brain was going to explode. She needed it desperately. Due to the fact that there was practically nothing to do in Higa City, despite its size, she was taking her peace where she could get it. Currently, she was sitting on the edge of a building, legs going through the gaps in a protective railing that came up to her chest. She was adamantly not thinking about her friends, or Teruya’s mysterious disappearance, or Mikado. All of it was eating away at her, and although she was sure to go back to figuring it out once she got up, for now Sora was admiring the stars that were unusual for a city surely polluted with light.
Due to her much needed break, she wasn’t on alert like she had been all day, or the day before, or the day before that, so naturally she didn’t even notice when someone plopped down next to her. Sora did notice, however, the distinctive pop of a lighter. Her head snapped to her side, ready to defend herself, before she noticed it was Syobai. She relaxed, if only slightly, knowing that if he were to kill her, he’d have done it by now.
“Hashimoto,” she greeted him, voice carefully flat.
“Albino,” he said back, voice tinted with the slightest bit of amusement.
Sora watched the cigarette in his fingers as he brought it up to his mouth. Her eyes flickered down to the pack of cigarettes, and on a whim, reached out for one. Syobai swatted her hand away and looked at her, confused.
“You’re always smoking them, I was just wondering what it was like,” she murmured, snatching one of the cigarettes from the box.
“I don’t think you’d like it,” Syobai looked away, bringing the lit cigarette in his hand up to his mouth, “but if you don’t care about lung cancer and all that, go ahead.”
Sora shrugged and picked up the lighter sitting beside Syobai, fumbling with the button until a small fire came up from it. After lighting her cigarette, Sora put the lighter back down and brought the cigarette up to her mouth. Seconds after Sora inhaled, she started coughing violently. She shook her head, grimacing.
“I don’t know how you can stand that shit,” she said, dropping the cigarette and letting it fall down the side of the building, hitting the pavement seconds after she let it go.
Syobai cackled, Sora glaring at him, annoyed. It wasn’t that funny, she thought, rolling her eyes at him as his laughing faded.
“I don’t really know,” he said, tone becoming more somber, though amusement still tinted his voice, “I guess I just started in order to fit in with all the 60-somethings in my line of business, and never stopped.”
Sora looked at him, surprised. She could tell he wasn’t being completely honest, but she didn’t think he was lying, either. “That’s the most information you’ve given me without you having to pay you,” she noted, tilting her head towards him.
Syobai snorted, and took another smoke. After he breathed it out, and Sora wrinkled her nose from the irritation the cloud of smoke caused, he turned his gaze to her, instead of staring out into the horizon.
“Guess I’m just in a sharing mood today,” he said, so quiet that she barely heard it. There was a soft, secretive smile on his face. Something about the smile was melancholy, like he knew something that she didn’t.
“Have you ever thought about quitting?” Sora asked, bringing one leg up and resting her head on the railing. He looked down a little and smiled that smile again, like she was a child who just couldn’t understand.
“Nah, not really. We all have our vices, hmm?”
Sora looked away and was silent for a minute, and then two. She stared at Syobai and noted how tired he looked—the dark circles under his eyes made his appearance similar to a raccoon, and his gray eyes only furthered the comparison. Despite this, he had very few wrinkles. It was how Sora knew that he wasn’t all that old, really. Few wrinkles, plus the black hair growing out of his scalp, showing that his gray hair was not, in fact, natural.
“I haven’t been talking to the others,” Sora said, for no other reason than she felt like it. Syobai looked at her, surprised by the nonsequitur. He squinted his eyes ever so slightly, as he seemed to be searching her, analyzing what she meant.
“Yuki’s acting weird, Yoruko is mad at me, and Teruya, well,” Sora paused, chewing her lip inside of her mouth, “Teruya is… missing. If—if you find him, could you tell me?”
“Maybe if I had a reason to,” he suggested, ever the business man. Sora rolled her eyes, her thought of this maybe being a bonding experience squashed.
“Five thousand and you tell me if you’ve seen him at all before this, as well,” she bartered, crossing her arms together.
“Deal,” Syobai said, and Sora quickly transferred the money over to him. Once she had done so, Syobai continued, “I haven’t seen him around except once, and that was when we first got here. He seemed pretty serious, if you ask me. Which you are, asking me, that is.”
“Wow, so helpful,” she murmured, injecting sarcasm into her voice, despite cataloging the information in her brain for later.
“If you wanted me to, I could have just made something up. Could’ve just asked.” he shrugged, grinning lazily. Sora frowned and shook her head, displeased. Instead of another quip, she simply said “No, thanks,” and swung her legs back and forth. They sat in silence for a few moments, no noise besides their breathing and the occasional inhales and exhales from Syobai taking puffs from his cigarette.
“My brain has been so weird lately,” she said, again for not much of a reason besides her impulsive thoughts winning over, “it’s like everything real is foggy, and the only thing I can worry about is the fact that Teruya is missing. Yoruko got pretty upset at me for that. I don’t blame her, really.”
Syobai didn’t say anything, still just staring off, an unemotive, blank look on his face. Sora bit her tongue.
“I just, well, don’t really know what’s going on with me. And I haven’t talked with anyone for days, and Shinji and Nikei are dead and everything feels so wrong, you know? And I have to find Teruya, I have to, but I don’t know where, and Mikado’s definitely up to something and I just—“ Sora exhaled abruptly, burying her face in her hands.
“And now I’m sitting here, talking to someone about it who doesn’t even care, and I probably shouldn’t be telling anyways, because besides Mikado, you’re the least trustworthy one here,” she said, voice slightly muffled from behind her hands. At this, Syobai snorted, corners of his mouth pulling up into a grin. He shook his head lightly.
“You’re probably right. And, well, I don't mind you talking to me.” Sora was genuinely surprised at that, and she was sure it was evident on her face as she peeled her hands away. Syobai confirmed as much as he looked at her and snorted again, rolling his eyes.
“You don’t have to look so surprised. Blackmail is a thing, yknow?” Sora frowned, disappointed but not surprised. This was Syobai she was talking to, she wouldn’t think twice if he betrayed her. The only thing he cared about was money.
“Kidding,” he said, noticing her disappointment, “mostly. Partially. A little bit.” Sora rolled her eyes at him, but it was with a little bit more warmth than before. It wasn’t fondness, god no, but something more akin to… comfort. Which was weird, to say the least. Syobai wasn’t a comfortable person. Sora wasn’t really much of a comfortable person, either.
“So, why are you up here? It wasn’t to kill me, you would’ve done it by now if that was the case.” At Sora’s question, Syobai smiled, a sort of spark in his eye as he did so.
“What, do I need a reason?” Syobai teased after he took a puff from his cigarette. Sora rolled her eyes yet again at him. She should have known not to expect anything from someone like him, but she had to try, anyway.
“I‘d just like to know, Trashimoto, that’s all.” At the nickname, Syobai groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Not that fucking nickname,” he said, shaking his head. Sora laughed at his exasperation, covering her mouth with a hand, eyes squeezed shut. She didn’t, but if she decided to open her eyes right then, she would see a small, barely-there smile on Syobai’s face.
“It’s a good nickname!” Sora protested through her laughter.
“No, it’s not, it’s a godawful nickname. Fucking abomination, that’s what it is. Even if I am trash, your wordplay isn’t funny,” Syobai scoffed, crossing his arms across his chest.
“Oh wow, so now you’re the only one allowed to call people nicknames?” Sora rolled her eyes dramatically, and scoffed.
“Mine aren’t nicknames, I just don’t care to know your actual names.” At this, her jaw dropped and she hit him lightly.
“Don’t tell me you don’t know what our names are! C’mon, it’s been what, a month? What’s my name, at least?”
Syobai’s mouth went flat, his eyebrows raised. Sora gaped at him, and scoffed again.
“Wow, Syobai,” she said, “I gotta say, you truly are trash. You’d think we spent enough time together for you to remember my name.”
Syobai leaned back, tapping his cigarette out as he placed his hands behind him. “Sorry, miss, I dunno what to tell you.” Sora raised an eyebrow and pulled her other leg up through the railing, turning herself to be facing Syobai.
“I would be offended, but I’m choosing not to be, since I’m a good friend,” she said, emphasizing ‘good friend’ as she stared at him.
Syobai suddenly goes serious, even the slightest hint of a smile dropping from his face. “Who said we were friends?”
Sora winced ever so slightly, and frowned. He was right, after all. It wasn’t like Sora would want to be friends with someone like him, anyways. “Well, we’re not friends, that’s for sure, but what are we? Strangers? We know too much about each other to be strangers.”
Syobai shrugged, picking back up his cigarette and taking a puff from it while Sora continued.
“Acquaintances? No, again, I feel like you can’t really have acquaintances in a situation like this.” Sora trailed off, pushing herself to turn back around to face the horizon.
“Mortal enemies?” Syobai tried, grinning wryly as Sora shot him with a dry glare.
“That position is reserved for Mikado, and besides,” she said, voice becoming much quieter, “I probably wouldn’t be up on a rooftop laughing with my enemy.”
Syobai paused for a minute. Sora glanced at him, wondering what was going through his head. She never could tell, really, with Syobai. Finally, he simply said one word, abruptly.
“Partners.”
Sora looked out at the horizon, head swimming with too many thoughts to count.
“Partners,” Sora tried out, rolling it around on her tongue like wine, tasting it before deciding it satisfactory.
“Like business partners, I guess.” she said, and Syobai nodded once. “Partners it is,” Sora said, and smiled ever-so-slightly. It felt right. Comfortable. You could trust a partner, but you could also be cautious of them. A part of Sora wondered if Syobai was partner-material, but she figured that real, authentic trash wouldn’t call themselves such. Unlike Mikado or Kanade, he wasn’t an evil person. Not a good person, by any means, but not evil.
Sora bumped her shoulder against Syobai’s, and he chuckled. It was unusually quiet, Sora found herself thinking. For a city, absolutely, but also compared to all the other islands they had been to. There were no birds chirping, no cicadas or crickets, no noise besides the near-silent breath of Syobai next to her.
Sora was reminded, however vaguely, of when Yoruko pulled her out deck one early morning, to appreciate the ocean as the Monocruise was sailing. There was a moment there, as well, where it was silent. No sound except the waves lapping against the boat. Both then and now, there was a sort of electricity in the silence. The electricity of melancholy, of things that were so close yet so far out of reach. The sweet, sweet ache of the knowledge that nothing would be like this, ever again.
“Do you ever miss your life, before the killing game?” Sora asked. It was a stupid question, surely. No one could possibly prefer a killing game over reality. Even Syobai’s twisted life would almost definitely be better than here, a place where you could never trust anyone, where he couldn’t make money, not like on the outside. But still, the question pulled at Sora, the curiosity of how life was like outside of the killing game. What someone like Syobai, someone without friends or even likely allies, would miss.
Syobai made a quiet noise, and glanced at Sora, who was looking up at him expectantly. “I dunno,” Syobai said, which surprised her, “it’s been kinda like a vacation for me, if that makes sense. Lot less busy, less stressful, y’know.”
Sora let out a sound that was sort of like a mix between a scoff and a laugh. “Of course a killing game would be like a vacation for someone like you.”
Syobai lazily smirked, chuckling to himself. “What can I say, Sora? Trash, through and through.” Sora’s head snapped to him, eyes narrowing ever so slightly.
“Trash who lied about not remembering my name,” she noted, amused. Syobai’s eyes widened at his misstep, smirk becoming a grin.
“God, who are you?” Syobai’s expression was strange, burning with what was either curiosity or some unforeseen knowledge.
“I’m not entirely sure myself,” Sora breathed. At that, Syobai blinked, grin falling from his face.
“I don’t know if it’s your amnesia, but… There’s something so strange about you, and I can’t figure it out.” Syobai huffed, running a hand through his hair.
Sora tilted her head and frowned slightly. “I don’t get you, either,” she said, biting her lip slightly, “You act all cold and distant, then you tell me about your life and childhood, then throw me out of your room and avoid me, and now we’re back to talking. I know I was just paying you to talk to me, but I don’t know… I felt like you and I were friends—or, not friends, but something.”
Syobai closed his eyes and leaned forward, crossing his arms over the railing. “Sorry,” he said, and Sora’s eyes snapped to him in surprise.
“I’m not used to… Having friends, I guess. Or being close to anyone.” Sora gaped at the admission, a rare display of vulnerability from Syobai. “You were the first, I suppose.”
“I,” Sora blanked at his words, mind racing a little too fast to process that information. She sat there for a moment, jaw hanging open, before closing it and biting her tongue.
“I don’t really know what to say to that, but… Thank you, for letting me be close. It’s been nice, getting to know you, despite you being… You.”
Syobai barked out a laugh at that, shaking his head with a smile that seemed too soft for his face. “No problem, albino,” he said, and placed a hand on Sora’s head. Sora blinked in confusion, making a face.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Sora bluntly asked, snickering at his uncomfortable face.
“Shut up,” he said, ruffling her hair roughly before pulling his hand back. “Friendship, I guess. I don’t fucking know, don’t ask me.”
Sora giggled lightly, reaching up to mess up Syobai’s hair. His face immediately contorted into a grimace, eyes glaring at her meanly.
“Never fucking touch me again or I’ll end up being the next blackened,” he said gruffly, and Sora burst out laughing at that, her attempting at holding it in quickly shattered as laughter ripped through her.
“You did it first!”
“Not an excuse and you know it, albino.”
Sora’s laughter petered off, soon replaced with the crushing weight of uncertainty. After a couple minutes of peaceful silence from both her and Syobai, she spoke up.
“Sometimes, it feels like this is never going to end. Like we’re going to be stuck here forever, afraid and distrusting.”
Syobai didn’t react, simply staring out at the buildings, but Sora was barely able to notice how his eyes flickered down to the ground below them.
“Yeah,” he said after a moment, “I get that.”
“But, y’know,” he continued, startling Sora slightly, “I think this killing game is gonna be ending soon.”
Sora’s brows furrowed, mouth opening to protest before Syobai interrupted her.
“It’s just a gut feeling. Plus, I mean, there aren’t that many people left, are there?”
It was an innocent comment, but it sent a rush of pain through Sora. She thought of everyone they had lost—some that she even had considered friends. But if Syobai was right, that would all be over soon. Sora wondered, however far in the back of her mind, who else would have to die for that to happen.
“I sure fucking hope so,” she said, instead of anything else, “I don’t know how much longer I can take convenience store food.”
She looked at Syobai, and he smiled at her comment. It was a tired smile, and Sora was sure that if she tried to smile hers would look the same.
Sora didn’t know how long they sat there after that, silent, but it was long enough for the light to start peeking up beyond the horizon and the sky turning from an ashy black to dark blue. She hadn’t realized they had been out here so long; lost in their conversations or thoughts too much to realize that hours had passed.
Sora heard a sigh from Syobai, faint enough that if the city hadn’t been so quiet, so devoid of any life besides themselves, she probably wouldn’t have heard it.
“Well,” he said, “the sun is starting to rise. I should probably get going.”
There was a gap between that and what he said next, presumably for Sora to fill with some murmur of affirmation about the rising sun, but she stayed quiet. She didn’t know what she was supposed to say, if anything. Saying anything just seemed pointless to her.
“Goodbye, Sora, and… good luck.”
Sora still didn’t reply to him, instead watching him stand up, shove his hands into his pockets and go down the ladder to get down the building. Once he was out of sight, she turned back and watched the sun rise, thoughts of the smell of cigarette smoke and sad gray eyes on her mind.