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It’s not often that Aguni doesn’t join them on games. The militant sect moved as a group after all. Tonight though, it seems as if they’d gotten too much on Aguni’s nerves lately and he’d sent them off on their own with a sharp glare, his voice laced with irritation. None of the three were in need of new visas any time soon. In fact, they’d played a game the night before and should have been free to relax for the night.
Instead, tonight, Niragi, Karube and Last Boss had piled away into one of the cars and begrudgingly went off to the assigned arena, all three unwilling to even try and argue with Aguni’s iron will.
Last Boss sits in the backseat, quiet as ever, his katana laid across his wide-spread lap. Karube is slumped the passenger seat, his legs kicked out as much as he can manage in the mediocre space. Niragi drives. Because he doesn’t trust Karube to touch the car he’d claimed as his own weeks before Karube had even been a blip on the Beach’s radar. Because, while he might have his license back in the reality, he doesn’t have a car due to lack of necessity since he lived in the city and he actually does enjoys driving so he’ll take whatever chances he gets here while in this non-reality.
Easing the car around another corner, Niragi’s eyes flick briefly sidelong to a large glowing arrow sign guiding his way. It can’t be that far off now, he’s been driving for a while. If he looked now, he’s half sure he might not even be able to see the light of the Beach at this distance, even though it’s pretty much the only place lit up in the entire city after the games finish. They’ve looped around along the water, probably all the into Koto by now.
He expects the silence out of Last Boss, it’s a good factor of his that Niragi appreciates, no unnecessary bullshit filling the quiet. Karube’s silence is what’s strange. Niragi glances at him in the corner of his eye, wondering, but not really curious enough to ask. What business of his is it anyway? It’s not like he and Karube are really 'friends' in the typical sense, just people who see each other every goddamned day - and fuck sometimes. Not that Last Boss knows that last part or needs to know.
At least, Niragi hopes Last Boss doesn’t know. He can never be sure what Last Boss knows or doesn’t know until he’s suddenly mentioning something that Niragi hadn’t realises he did know.
Still, he and Karube, it’s been a well kept secret this long and he’d like for it to stay that way.
So he says nothing to Karube. He asks nothing. He just drives and lets the silence linger stuffily in the small confines of the car. It’s not until he finally eases the car into a parking space and steps out of it that he realises how choking that silence had been. He takes a breath, exhales it out his mouth into the warm summer night. Karube swings out of the passenger side, knocking the door shut with his elbow before he stretches, and Last Boss slumps out on Niragi’s side.
Niragi glances around. From the looks of it, there’s a bunch of greenery and a couple sets of athletic fields, no doubt a sports community center nearby too. Karube comes around the front of the car, his gaze seemingly flicking to find where the game arena is. In his periphery, Niragi sees as he suddenly stops short, frozen in place. Brows scrunching, he turns his head to look at Karube, then follows his gaze towards the large glass-windowed greenhouse. The Yumenoshima Tropical Dome, Niragi recalls offhandedly. He’s never visited it himself, never had any reason to come down to this part of Koto in the first place back in reality.
Looking back to Karube, he watches as he swallows thickly, his hands clench and then unclench at his sides. Seeming to realise he’s been watched, Karube’s gaze snaps to Niragi, then quickly away, his jaw setting tight enough to look painful. Niragi shrugs it off. He glances briefly back to the car, considers grabbing his rifle and then decides against it. If the games required weapons, they usually provided them. Better to not waste the bullets if he doesn’t need to, it’s been getting harder and harder to find ammunition in the abandoned shops.
Turning, he starts to head towards the entrance to the greenhouse dome. Last Boss follows, slumping along behind him. It takes him a moment to recognise a distinct lack of another pair of footsteps. He glances over his shoulder, sees that Karube isn’t following, still stopped in front of the car’s hood. Huffing, Niragi turns at the waist, his ink-dark eyes narrowing in a glare.
“Karube,” he says sharply, his voice slightly too loud in the quiet of the night, and Karube seems to snap back to attention.
“I’m coming,” Karube replies, his tone just as sharp.
His hands shove into the pockets of his blue jeans, his steps heavy as he plods along to follow after Niragi and Last Boss. There’s none of the usual relaxed amusement on Karube’s face, instead his features are drawn oddly taut and serious in a way that Niragi’s never seen before. Huffing through his nose, Niragi just turns back towards the greenhouse and continues on without another word.
Stepping through the entrance, his ear perks to the sudden hesitation in Karube’s footfalls, his steps slowing at the threshold. Niragi doesn’t look back at him, just continues on to the lit-up main area of the ground floor. There’s already a decent handful of people standing around waiting for the game to begin. Niragi counts seven, noting the silvery bands of mechanical collars around their necks and sleek black guns in their hands.
His gaze turns, finds a pair of tables. One table’s already empty, the other bears three pairs of collars and guns.
Unfazed, Niragi and Last Boss pick up a collar each. Niragi turns it in his hand. Beside the lock at the front, there’s a row of three small unlit lights, tiny little bulbs behind red covers. His eyes flick to the other players. On their collars, the lights are lit up, shiny red. Niragi prods a thumb at one of the bulb covers, then fits the collar around his neck, shifting his hair aside so the strands don’t get caught. It locks automatically with a quiet whir. It’s a bit of a snug fit, but not uncomfortably tight, loose enough that he can easily slot a finger in between the cool metal and his throat.
With that done, he picks up the gun, then frowns at the feel of it in his hands. It’s plastic, he realises. Looking closer, he sees that it’s a laser gun designed to look like a stubby short-barrel AK. His expression scrunching, he puffs out a disappointed breath, letting the toy hang loosely at his side. Turning, he sees Last Boss has already done the same as him, collar fitted on and the not-gun being turned in his hands. Niragi frowns slightly, the game should’ve started by now, so why -
Karube stands, staring down at the collar, his hands hanging limply at his sides, making no attempt to grab either gun or collar. Niragi glares.
“What are you waiting for?” he snaps, unwilling to waste his entire night waiting for Karube to register into this game.
Karube jolts slightly at his voice, seeming to come out of a daze. His fingers twitch at his side, then close into a tight fist, pressing his nails into his palm and then loosening. Niragi picks up the collar, takes Karube’s wrist, shoves the collar into his palm. He’s half-tempted to just put it on Karube himself.
“Put it on already so we can get this over with,” he says.
Karube swallows thickly. Niragi’s already looked away, too quick to notice the slight tremor in Karube’s fingers as he locks the collar around his neck. He picks up the gun, weighing it in his hands, but feeling a thousand miles away. He takes a short breath, in then out. The sound of the game’s starting jingle makes his shoulders tense, his fingers gripping numbly around the plastic weapon.
A spade game, the voice announces, but Karube’s not really listening. Something about two teams, three lives for each player, win condition: survive until the other team has been killed. It feels like his head is underwater, the words are all muffled when they meet his ear. He barely makes out the voice giving them five minutes to get away from the main area before the guns were activated. The only reason he realises he has to move is because Niragi shoves at his shoulder.
Niragi has no idea what is going on with Karube tonight, but it’s becoming frustrating. He’s not sure that the three of them sticking together is the best idea, but Karube follows after him so Last Boss does the same and Niragi’s can be bothered to tell either of them off so he just lets it happen.
It’s hard to make heads-or-tails of the greenhouse. The further he walks in, the darker it seems to get, the greenery all growing tall and untamed. He thinks about covering up the lights on the collar to make sure that the other team can’t see them in the dark, but he’s got nothing to use.
It’s not long before their five minutes to hide are up and there’s a tone that rings out through the greenhouse. Karube stiffens at the sound. Niragi shoots him a look, then shakes his head with a quiet huff. The game is on now, and he can’t risk getting distracted because Karube’s feeling off. As Karube falls back, Niragi takes the lead and Last Boss falls behind into second, both raising their laser guns, trigger fingers ready.
Keeping their pace slow, they move along through the dark greenery, carefully watching for any players from the other team. Minutes pass without issue as Niragi treks along through the dark, his eyes slowly adjusting. Other players losing their 'life points' gets announced over the speakers.
After an hour, at least two of the other team’s players are dead, and one from their own. The trio have come across none of them. Karube’s anxious energy hasn’t lessened, overwhelming as he sticks almost too close to Niragi. The voice comes across the speakers again, announcing the death of their other player. Niragi huffs, grinding his teeth.
Both teams are even now, three left on each.
With the quiet from both Last Boss and Karube, Niragi’s ear suddenly catches the sound of a branch breaking. A thin red flash of light glances off the side of Karube’s head, and one of the lights on his collar goes dark. The stereo voice announces his lost point. Niragi twists quickly, his eyes picking through the overgrown foliage until he finds the shooter, lifts his gun, fires. He sees a tiny red light go dark.
There’s the sound of a small explosion, like a shotgun blast as the collar blows itself up, then the distinct sound of a body dropping. The voice announces another player dead on the other team.
Without pausing to revel in the part-win, Niragi twists around again and grabs Karube by the elbow, hurrying to get away in case any of the other team’s members were nearby. Last Boss follows along, frequently glancing back to see if they were being followed. After a few rushed minutes of blindly running, Karube’s steps stumble and Niragi slows to yank him back upright.
Karube sucks in a gasping breath, choky-sounding.
Niragi stares at him. His eyes are blown wide, flicking around but unseeing; he’s grasping at the collar of his shirt, yanking on it; his hands are shaking, the gun jostling in his grip before he drops it and it lands with a clatter on the ground; his breaths get sucked it but are then expelled out his mouth just as quickly, each one uneven and shaky. Niragi’s brows furrow. Was he having a panic attack? Now?
“We - we’re going to fucking die,” Karube wheezes out, breathless.
He claws a hand at the front of his shirt over his chest, fingers catching on the fabric. Niragi sets his jaw. This is not something he was expecting to deal with tonight. Last Boss stares, confused, then glances towards Niragi. Huffing a breath, Niragi grabs Karube tightly by the elbow, meeting Last Boss’ pinpoint eyes.
“Go find those remaining players,” he orders.
Last Boss nods, turning wordlessly to sneak off into the dark.
Niragi looks quickly around, his eyes picking out a spot before he starts to pull Karube along with him. What he’d spotted was a cafe area. It’s dim, decorated with wooden furniture with open-design glassless windows looking out to an overgrown water feature. There’s not many places to hide where they couldn’t be seen through the windows, but Niragi finds a spot and shoves Karube into the nearest chair.
“Get it off, get this fucking thing off me,” Karube gasps.
He claws at the collar, scoring red lines into his throat where his nails catch on his skin, dragging spots of blood to the surface. Sitting down, the gun set on the ground beside him, Niragi’s hands snap out to grab Karube by the wrists, yanking his hands away from his throat. It’s no easy feat since Karube’s strong and desperate and clearly freaking out, his muscles drawn taut as he tries to rip the collar off.
“Karube,” Niragi says sharply, squeezing tightly around his wrists, “You need to calm down.”
His breaths are still hitching and unsteady, his eyes unfocused.
“Hey, look at me,” Niragi snaps, digging his thumbs into the inner sides of his wrists to get his attention. “Look at me.”
Karube’s eyes finally meet his, distress evident in his gaze. His hands twitch, like he’s desperate to go back to clawing at the collar, but Niragi’s grip is firm as he holds his hands between them.
“You need to breathe,” Niragi says, calmly strict, “Come on.”
Karube shakes his head, “I - I can’t -”
“You can,” Niragi insists.
Karube sucks in a short, shaky breath.
“Again. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”
Niragi does it, taking a deep breath. In, hold, then out. Karube copies slowly, taking a more steady breath.
There’s a crackle over the speakers, the voice coming through to mention another player dead on the other team. Karube’s head snaps towards the radio, his mouth trembling and his fingers twitching. Niragi’s thumbs dig into his wrists again.
“Hey. Ignore that, look at me,” he says, “Breathe.”
It takes a few more minutes, but Niragi watches as the panic slowly fades from Karube’s eyes, his breaths evening out and steadying. Eventually, the tension in Karube’s body slackens and he swallows, then twists one of his wrists out of Niragi’s grip so he can swipes a hand across his face, knuckling across his teary eyes. He clears his throat, a pinch of embarrassment crossing his expression. Niragi sighs lightly.
“You okay now?” he asks.
Karube nods shortly, “Yeah, I just - I don’t -”
“It was a panic attack.” Karube’s brows scrunch. Niragi stares, realises, “You haven’t had one before?”
Karube shifts in his seat, his knee bumps Niragi’s, “No.”
“Not fun, right?” Niragi muses, releasing Karube’s other wrist and stretching tension out of his fingers.
“You’ve -” Karube’s eyes flick past Niragi, lock onto something, “Get down!”
Quickly grabbing Niragi, Karube throws both of them down to the ground just moments before a thin beam of red shoots through the window, missing them. Karube, lying over Niragi, meets his dark eyes for a quick moment before scrambling off him and for the laser gun. Staying low, he darts over to one of the open windows. Peeking over the ledge, his eyes pick through the foliage until he can spot those little red lights again.
He finds them, waits, loops his finger into the trigger guard, aims, and fires, then quickly ducks back down to stay out of range. His shot is followed by a quick second one as Last Boss pops out of the bushes by the water feature’s pond. The collar explodes with an echoing bang, then there’s the sound of a body dropping, a splash as it falls into the water.
As the congratulatory jingle rings out, Karube sighs out a breath of relief and slips down to sit on the ground, dropping the plastic gun aside. Niragi shifts over to crouch beside him. Reaching out, he tugs open the lock of Karube’s collar and slips it off from around his neck. Immediately, Karube’s hands flit to his throat, rubbing up and around his neck. He slumps against the wall below the window, seemingly exhausted. His head drops forward, hanging loosely, his eyes closing. Niragi pulls his own collar off, dropping both loops of metal aside next to the gun.
Standing, Niragi ruffles a hand through his dark hair and over the back of his head where it had hit the ground after Karube had tackled him, then leans on the ledge of the window, glancing towards the body floating in the pond. Huffing quietly, he rolls his neck from side to side, clicking his tongue.
“Well, at least that’s over,” he says, then lightly kicks the toe of his shoe into Karube’s ankle, “Come on.”
After collecting the winning card, they head back down to the car and Niragi pulls it back onto the road. Silence fills the car again and, as Niragi heads down a straight road, he glances sidelong as Karube in the passenger seat. He’s slumped down into the seat, looking out the window into the dark city, his expression unreadable. Niragi drums his pointer finger on the wheel.
“So what the hell happened back there?” he asks, finally breaking the silence.
Karube looks at him, then pointedly towards the rearview mirror where Last Boss is reflected. Niragi follows his gaze, then glances briefly back at Last Boss before quirking a brow at Karube.
“He’s not going to say anything,” Niragi continues.
A muscle ticks in Karube’s jaw.
“Nothing happened,” he says stiffly, turning back to the window.
“Sure. Whatever,” Niragi replies, shaking his head.
The drive continues in relative silence. The Beach eventually rises up in the distance, a bright glow into the dark of the sky. He curves the car into the garage, finding his usual parking spot and pulling in to it. He turns the car off. Reaching across the center console, he subtly grabs Karube’s wrist, squeezing it, then lets him go and grabs the car out of the cup holder. A silence kind of 'come see me later'. Twisting, he hops out of the car. Last Boss passes his rifle out to him, then hops out to follow after into the Beach.
An hour or so later, the card is handed in and Niragi is in his room, waiting. He isn’t even sure if Karube will actually come up. Part of Niragi wouldn’t blame him if he doesn’t show up. He sits on the end of his bed, nudges his knuckles against his nose.
The closest he’s been to even a minor panic attack in years happened when Karube first showed up at the Beach. That one swift punch to the nose knocking him on his ass, blood spilling down to his lip and tasting like a copper yen. His hearing had gone muffled, his eyes blown wide as he looked at everyone around him. Aguni wasn’t fazed, he barely even reacted. Nobody had moved to help him or to retaliate again Karube. It had been embarrassing, humiliating. The laughter of ghosts ringing in his ears, making his chest feel tight. He remembers later that same night, going to his room, blurry vision and hiccuping breaths and his shaky hands gripping the porcelain of the sink, trying to force himself to calm down.
One punch and Niragi was left feeling like a stupid teenage kid again, with blood on his face and dirt on his pants.
A quiet knock on the door jerks Niragi out of his thoughts. He shoves the memory down, pushes up from the bed to open the door. Karube steps in, casually nudging Niragi back, closing the door behind him. His hand curls into the fabric over Niragi’s hip. When he starts to lean in, Niragi catches him by the jaw, his thumb pressing on the sharp stubbled line of it. He lifts Karube’s chin, getting a look at the lines of red scratches along the front of his throat and frowns. They look like they hurt. Karube’s hand finds his wrist, fingers wrapping around it. Niragi fixes him with a look.
“Sit down and talk,” he says, releasing Karube’s jaw from his grip.
Karube puffs out a breath, his mouth setting in a line.
“Can’t we just fuck instead?” he ask, part joking part serious. Niragi glares.
“I can’t keep playing games with you if I don’t know what’s going to set you off.”
“It was nothing,” Karube says, his gaze flicking away, “Think I liked it better when you acted like you didn’t care about me.”
Niragi’s eyes narrow further, “Well, you know the way out.”
Karube’s gaze snaps back to him, meeting the unwavering glint in his eyes. With another huff, he pushes past Niragi to go and sit in the armchair closest to the bed. He kicks his legs out, leaning against the back of the chair, roughing a hand through his bleacher hair. Niragi turns, sits on the edge of the bed facing him, waits. Karube looks down at his hands to avoid Niragi’s gaze, shoves his thumb against his palm.
“The seven of hearts,” he starts quietly, “It was me, Arisu, this chick we met in here Shibuki and …” he swallows thickly, blinks, “Chota. He was our friend.” Niragi’s ear perks to the past-tensed 'was' but he says nothing. “It was in this stupid greenhouse, back in Shibuya, there were these collars. The game … it wanted us to kill each other, or try to kill each other, or,” He shakes his head, “I don’t know. There were all these weapons laid out - Shibuki, she turned on us, tried to run and leave us to die so she could win.”
He grinds the heel of his palm against his eye.
“Fuck, I almost killed her. I would’ve killed her if she didn’t …” His hand squeezes over his side where Niragi has seen a large scar. He takes a breath, exhales it shakily, “I think I almost died there. I think maybe I was supposed to. Arisu … he should’ve been the only one to survive, I was even willing to die for him, I would’ve but … I don’t know what happened. The collar,” His fingers lightly touch the red scratches on his throat, “It should’ve exploded, but it didn’t. Not for me, at least, just fizzled out, burned me a little. Can barely tell now, right?” He forces a weak unconvincing smile that quickly drops. “But Chota died, Shibuki too. Couldn’t care less about her but Chota … he didn’t deserve that, to die like that.”
Niragi’s expression is unreadable as he takes the story in.
“So no gardens, no collars,” he says finally, “I’ll keep it in mind, make sure we don’t have a repeat of tonight.”
Karube shrugs.
“You could just calm me down again,” he muses, then tilts his head, “How did you know what to do anyway?”
Niragi huffs, wryly amused.
“We’re not going to talk about what in my past fucked me up.”
Karube leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees.
“Well, if we’re done talking then …” A smile flashes to his mouth.
Niragi rolls his eyes, but he can’t hide the slight smirk that grows.
“I think you owe me for saving your ass tonight,” he shoots back.
Karube stands from the armchair, taking a step towards him. He leans to drop a hand onto Niragi’s thigh, just above his knee, nudging his legs apart. His other hand slides to the back of Niragi’s neck, his thumb running along the side of his throat.
“I’m sure I can think of something.”
Before Niragi has a chance to make any kind of retort, Karube drags him into a rough kiss, eager to put what had happened earlier that night behind them. Niragi knows a distraction when he sees one, but in this moment, he can’t find it in himself to care too much. Still, even as he thinks that, his hand reaches up to slide along the side of Karube’s neck and, with his thumb, he can feel the slight risen lines of the scratches Karube had clawed into himself. The memory of how scared Karube had been makes Niragi’s stomach turn. There’s a slight twitch of Karube’s adam’s apple and Niragi hooks an arm around his neck, pulling him onto the bed and letting the kiss be what it is: a distraction.