Chapter Text
The familiar, chirpy, “Gather Round” announcement has never sounded so deafening to Ace’s ears. He knows before he even steps onto the floating competitors’ disk that this is going to be a round unlike any other. After all, he knows the name of the game before Tsumuri says a single word.
Hide and Seek.
Ace schools his expression. To any viewer, he looks like he's listening to the round's explanation with rapt attention.
“There are several Jyamato hidden in the area," Tsumuri declares.
Behind her, a holographic screen displays chibi Jyamatos hidden behind pillars. A chibi Geats pops in next to it, glancing left and right.
"Points will be awarded when you find them," she continues.
The mini Geats points dramatically at one of the pillars, causing the mini Jyamato hiding there to look alarmed. To the right of this display, a new holographic screen pops up - an itemized scoring sheet. Ace doesn't bother to read it.
He barely pays much attention at all. To be fair, Tsumuri's official explanations are always rather bare bones, and this new Game Master loves his twists, perhaps even more than the old one, which all has led to even vaguer briefings. Ace never particularly minded all that much, but compared to Buffa's constant instructions, this falls flat.
Buffa flips open his notebook. He writes, "The Jyamato aren't hidden randomly. While you're busy trying to spot them, their job is to draw Riders in."
"Draw them in where?" Ace asks.
The other hurriedly scribbles out, "To the heart of the Jyama area. A labyrinth leading to your slaughter."
Ace raises an eyebrow. "Oh? And what exactly is the means of this slaughter?"
Buffa uses the tip of his pen to point to himself.
Ace relaxes his posture. "Shouldn't it be a Minotaur rather than a buffalo in a labyrinth?"
Buffa rolls his eyes. He drags his pen across the paper, "Focus. You're going to have to know this all perfectly. The Jyamatos are going to be stronger the closer they are to the center."
"Which means speed is our ally here. Wasting time on fights will just wear us down: it's better to run through the maze and save our energy." Ace dusts off his winning smile. "See, I'm listening."
"Ace?"
He turns around to find Keiwa staring. Neon's discretely looking, too, albeit it from a few paces away. It seems like the presentation is over.
"Were you even listening to Tsumuri?" Keiwa asks.
"Don't have to. I'll win this round regardless." He winks at his fellow competitors.
Surely no one watching would suspect anything amiss. The audience must be used to his nonchalant attitude towards this life-or-death game. Surely they're thinking that the Star of the Stars of the Stars has already worked out some master scheme to win the most points and come out on top.
Ace turns to leave before that illusion shatters. But Neon side-steps in front of him, blocking his path.
"If you're that confident," she purrs, "you won't mind a late start then, right?"
There's a mischievous glint in her eyes that's near infectious.
"Depends," Ace answers. "What do you have in mind?"
…
The small cafe is thankfully none too busy, which means, after signing a few autographs and flashing twice as many smiles, the three of them are given a table out of sight.
Keiwa still glances left and right before leaning forward conspiratorially. "Has our mutual friend stopped by at all?"
"Buffa?" Ace asks. "Not since the warehouse visit."
The other two share a quick glance, clearly questioning something and coming to the same conclusion.
"Shouldn't we be more secretive about this?" Keiwa asks.
Ace shakes his head. "If we haven't seen him by now, the higher-ups certainly know something, if they didn't already."
After a moment, Neon nods. "My sponsor saw that fight scene unedited. They didn't make any moves to hide Buffa's presence at all."
She pokes at the small sandwich she'd ordered, looking up at her friends somewhat sullenly. "If anything," she slowly states, "the filming reminded me of how streamers do more subtle advertisements. They wanted viewers to notice him."
Keiwa frowns. "But why would they even do that?"
"Because this Game Master is a thrill seeker," Ace cuts in. "He wants this season to be dramatic, and if he knows the Jyamato sponsor plans to use Buffa as their prized bull in this new round, why wouldn't he milk the opportunity as an early cameo, foreshadowing some twist?"
"This round?" Neon asks. "Hide and Seek?"
"Yes. But don't worry: I have a plan." Ace smirks and goes through the broad strokes of the strategy he and Buffa created.
The simple version of the plan:
Step 1. Find the Labyrinth
Step 2. Have Tycoon and Na-Go be very entertaining as they push through the Labyrinth. Meanwhile -
Step 2.5. Ace sneaks into the Jama Garden. He raids the place for info, maybe takes the backdoor into some DGP offices. He finds out whatever they're hiding about his mom, then gets the hell out
Step 3. Let Team Jyamato cause their chaos against Management, which should fully cover Ace's own break-in
Step 4. Meet up at the Labyrinth's center with Buffa. Probably figure out a way to get him back as a real rider, or at least fix what got broke between now and his resurrection.
Ace leaves out some details, of course. Stuff that will only panic them. Things he'll fill them in on if and when they become relevant. Hunches that he's still not sure of because Buffa was so darn quiet about the worst subjects.
Keiwa and Neon are more somber by the end of it.
"Do you really think the three of us will be able to pull that off?" Keiwa asks hesitantly.
The server comes by, and they all fall deathly quiet. She switches out their empty tea pot with a fresh one.
Buffa leans against the chair. He stares at the teapot, expression unreadable. Ace picks up the pot and tops off his cup.
"What's got you all sour?" Ace asks.
He scrawls out in big letters, I'm thinking.
"Stop it. You're gonna hurt yourself."
If these were the old days, Buffa would snarl out his name, grab his collar, and deliver a choice threat. But it's not the old days, so Buffa only looks away, the glimmer of old rage in his eyes.
Ace's role at least hasn't changed: invade his rival's space and turn up the handsome, playboy charm. Dig for information while appearing flighty, haughty, uninterested, and above it all.
"Besides," Ace says casually, "we both know I'm the better strategist, so let me figure it out. What's the problem?"
It's not even a proper eye roll: Buffa's eyes barely flicker to the side before he grips his pen tighter. He taps it once. Twice. Then his hands freeze as he thinks.
There's very few riders this DPG, Buffa finally writes out.
"Yes. I imagine that's why they went for the 'reality television' angle - there's only so large a memorable supporting cast can be."
Hide and Seek is supposed to be ten times worse than other final rounds. We're at a disadvantage trying to clear it with only a handful of people.
"You're forgetting about the Star of the Stars of the Stars." Ace points confidently at his face, smiling impishly. "I've won every game I've ever played."
Did Buffa understand what he was saying, or did he think it was another lie? Either way, he only pauses for a second before frowning. Buffa doesn't write any more that visit, having to leave not long after.
Ace ponders on their current odds. How foolproof was their plan, really?
If Buffa was that concerned when there were five riders, Ace can only imagine how critical he'd be of three. In all fairness, Nadge-Sparrow hardly would've been a team player if he had stuck around. Lopo was more of a loss though. They'd managed to force a four-way tie for the Dezaster vote once , but Chirami must not have felt that was appropriately 'dramatic'. The next round, Timebomb Game, had applied enough pressure that Lopo up and confessed to being the traitor in order to save her family (though Ace has his suspicions of whether there's not more tricks to this whole Dezastar situation, but that's an issue he doesn't have the luxury to dwell on). He can at least trust Tycoon and Na-Go on this: that should count for something.
The server bows and scurries off. Keiwa and Neon wait until she's out of sight to look at Ace and silently re-ask the question.
"Have I ever lost yet?" Ace smiles cockily.
…
Beroba grins with unadulterated joy. Oh the masterpiece took longer to craft than she wanted, but she's willing to forgive Archimedel for his insolence - just this once. A human turned into a Jyamato was nothing like she expected, save for one element: the inherent, automatic despair invoked. Yes, Archimedel had taken the worst elements of both species, the most horrific parts and merged them into one nightmare.
"Buf-fa~" she sings out, low and soft.
She's drawn to him, feet carrying her closer and closer until she can touch his outer layer of plant matter with her own two hands. And touch she does. Something so horrendous should be properly appreciated after all. Beroba strokes his neck, focusing on the dance of his slow, twisted pulse.
It's only when her hands move up to his face that the rider bothers to look at her. His gaze sends shivers down her spine. There's nothing truly unnatural about his eyes, and that's the best part. They're undeniably human, and undeniably reflect everything broken. Pain spiderwebs outwards from them like cracks in an ID core. It's impossible to look and feel anything but torment. Beroba loves his eyes most of all.
She's overcome by the desire to pluck one out, keep it in a jar next to her jellybeans and carry it with her forever and ever. Her nails brush under Buffa's undereye but he doesn't move a muscle. Like he's resigned to her whims. But the eyes reflect her own cruel delight, an undying suffering, and the smallest hint of primal fear. How beautiful.
Beroba stops herself. Something would be lost the moment the nerves detach, and the thought of losing even a sliver of this despair makes the idea instantly unappealing. Yes, it'd be better to watch Buffa at front and center stage for this round, see all the destruction he can cause, and then play with him as she sees fit. Archimedel likes Buffa better now that he's a Jyamato, but the Gardener isn't as protective of him as the rest of his "children" so he'll definitely let her take him as a new toy.
"It's showtime," Beroba tells him. "I want some high quality misery, so deliver for me, okay."
Buffa blinks at her slowly. His only acknowledgement.
He stopped signing during the last stage of experiments. He hasn't spoken a word since then either - it's doubtful he's even capable of it anymore. But Beroba's gotten good at reading her favorite rider and his little looks.
She knows he's listening right now, that he's itching for a fight. She knows he’ll create the most perfect despair. After all, there’s nothing else he can do.
“Crush any Rider who crosses your path.”