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Settling in at the Sky Casino had its troubles. Sigma was given thorough instructions on the practicalities, however he simply wasn't used to the world around him.
He had no memories—still doesn't. No friends or relatives either, no one to call his own. Just the Sky Casino, a place meant for him (supposedly) and Fyodor, as well as his associates. Sigma didn't know what to think of any of them—still doesn't.
One of them, he has talked to, once. Nikolai brought him a TV, in case he'd get bored.
Sigma finds Nikolai weird and overwhelming. But he looks forward to every tape it sends his way. It's an old TV and while it can access broadcasts, only one TV show was able to capture Sigma's attention. Nikolai put it on, when it brought the TV and they watched an episode together and it was the first time that Sigma didn't feel out of place since appearing in the desert.
It's about a teenage girl with superpowers who fights evil, with the help of her pet bird. Sigma knows it's a dumb premise, of course he knows. Yet he can't help but be enamored by it. He finds the TV show charming and engaging, despite its flaws.
Sigma never remembers their names—the girl's or the bird's. He recognizes them, when he's watching but whenever the TV is turned off, he can't recall much about it, the memory slipping away, somewhere around the same place where everything else about his childhood is hidden.
"You really have great taste, Sigma-chan," Nikolai told him, after Sigma asked if he could maybe see more of that TV show, before Nikolai left. "It's on every Saturday night at 10:00 PM. Sharp. Same channel."
Sigma nodded, determined. He knew he would watch it every week.
And he did and he watched and rewatched the tapes Nikolai dropped off for him every time he had free time between all his duties at the Sky Casino. The days would pass in a blink of an eye but when he puts the TV show on, is always when he feels closest to being whole.
For a year or so, it is him and his TV show and the Sky Casino which he tries his hardest to make into a place he can call his home. He takes his duties seriously. He's the boss at the Sky Casino, it's his job, his role, his duty—it's what defines him.
But before he goes to sleep at night, he gets one of the tapes out of his locked drawer where he keeps them, turns on his TV and watches it glow.
It's the second time Sigma meets Nikolai when he realizes that he doesn't like it at all.
"I'm no man," Nikolai declares, a glint in its eyes. "I'm more of a…bird. Meant to fly free. I cut out anything from myself that could make me a man."
Sigma doesn't understand; can't understand. He is the most ordinary man—he was created to be just that and he fills the role, he knows. He tries desperately to, in hopes that it might grant him humanity.
Nikolai is trying desperately to get rid of its. A bird. A thing. It.
"Like your eye?" Sigma asks. Nikolai doesn't answer. "Thank you for the tapes," he says then, allowing and Nikolai grins, bowing theatrically.
"It was my pleasure," it practically purrs. And animal. But then it stands up, twirls its braid around its finger and says, "I will keep bringing them, then. We should watch them together, whatcha think, Sigma-chan?"
A part of Sigma wants to say no. Nikolai is far too much to handle and besides, Sigma doesn't understand it and he's not sure he can. He's not sure he wants to.
"Wouldn't that be fun? Like a sleepover, us, all bundled up, watching a TV show? Maybe I can even bring popcorn!" Nikolai offers and it all sounds so mundane and human that Sigma has to agree. Can't not.
Nikolai groans, throwing a fistful of popcorn at the TV, "San, stop being dense! Listen to your bird, it knows better!"
San, Sigma tries to carve it into his memory. He thinks he might be able to, now that he heard Nikolai say it, instead of just hearing it from the people on his small screen.
"How would the bird know better?" Sigma furrows his eyebrows.
"The bird always knows better, Sigma-chan," Nikolai states, confident as ever. It doesn't make much sense to Sigma but he lets it go, not trying to understand Nikolai. He knows he'd fail.
Nikolai starts bringing Sigma clothes he knows he's not supposed to wear.
The most ordinary man should be wearing a simple suit (boring) with Oxford shoes (super boring) and no accessories, maybe besides a watch (extra boring—how are you not bored just imagining it, Sigma-chan?)
But then again, those have never been the clothes Sigma wore. Not even in the desert. So what's the harm in trying on a dress, right?
(It's a silky material—light and comfortable. You put it on without any trouble.
When you turn around to look at yourself in the mirror, you feel something settle in you for the first time since you can remember existing. For the first time, possibly ever, you feel like yourself.
You wonder if you could simply wear it in your daily life but you know you can't. It's not who you're supposed to be.)
Sigma keeps the dress but he locks it away—with the tapes, with his memories and with San's name.
Sigma tries not to spend too much time with Nikolai. He appreciates the tapes and maybe even watching the TV show together—when Sigma watches alone, it's like he gets completely swept up by it, and it becomes hard to remember anything from it but when Nikolai is there, his memory works better. It is like a tether to this world, as much as it would loathe to be described that way.
However when there is no TV show to watch, and it's just the two of them in Sigma's office, Nikolai unsettles him to no end. Too much is not enough of a descriptor for it. It is dangerous. It is terrifying.
And it asks too many question.
"Say, Sigma-chan, what's it like to not be of this world? To not be human?" Nikolai leans its head back on the armrest of the sofa it's lounging on, its legs pulled up and crossed at the knee where they're bent. It looks at home.
Sigma hates that about it. It can make anything its home. It flies freely before landing for a few minutes of rest and in those few minutes, it finds a way to fit—it carves a place for itself, a place it can stay in just to choose to fly away again.
"Lonely," Sigma says honestly because there is no point in lying. Nikolai only hums. "What's it like to have a place to belong?"
"I don't. I burnt it."
"Then what was it like?"
"Like a cage," Nikolai admits, still sounding cheerful. "Belonging is overrated. No one is truly free unless they cut all ties to anyone and anything."
"Then maybe freedom is overrated," Sigma argues. "Don't you want connection to others?"
"Of course I do!" Nikolai chirps, straightening its legs and sitting up to look at Sigma. "That's why it makes me free to get rid of those connections anyway."
Nikolai is crazy, it's obviously gone mad long before meeting Sigma. He doesn't know why he's entertaining this conversation.
"Will you be happy then?"
"Probably not!"
"Then what's the point?"
"The point, my dear Sigma-chan," Nikolai tilts its head to the side, smiling sweetly, "is to prove free will. Happiness is fleeting, anyway but once I'm free of all mortal bounds, I'll never be chained down again. I can fly free for the rest of my life—truly, like a bird."
Sigma thinks that to aim to be free all the time is a cage in a way too. If you can't act in a certain way, if you can't be certain things to be free, then are those not rules? And if you're following rules, are you free at all?
He doesn't tell Nikolai that. Instead he just hums and gets back to his paperwork, only to get interrupted again by Nikolai a minute later.
"I've been thinking," Nikolai says without any preamble. It is not one for hellos or goodbyes—it doesn't follow societal conventions like that. Sigma's grown used to hearing its voice out of nowhere in his office.
"That's dangerous," Sigma says bluntly which makes Nikolai giggle.
"If I kill Fedya, I will have nothing tying me to this world anymore," it starts, spinning its cane mindlessly. "Except for the world itself."
Slow to process, Sigma blinks a few times, putting his pen down. "What do you mean?"
"Think about it," Nikolai says, leaning closer to bonk Sigma's head with the cane gently. "I was born into this reality and I'm kept here because of that. It's the main story which is why I never thought about leaving before but how can I be free knowing I'm merely words on a book?"
"I still don't understand," Sigma shakes his head. "It's not as if you can leave reality."
"Can't I?" Nikolai asks, reaching with its cane towards Sigma again but this time, instead of touching him, it just points the cane at him. "You did."
"I don't—I—" Sigma stammers before meeting Nikolai's eyes and declaring, sternly, "That's different."
"Is it?"
"Yes. You can't leave here. If you could, I wouldn't—Dostoevsky wouldn't make me—" Nikolai raises an eyebrow, drawing the cane back and spinning it again.
"You're useful to him. That's why he's keeping you here."
"There isn't a way to go back."
"There has to be!" Nikolai exclaims, nearly jumping in place from excitement at the concept. "You could go home. And I could go with you to prove that I am truly free."
"You're insane," Sigma tells it but Nikolai just laughs. "It's not as if—What if I don't have a home reality?"
"Hm, that's not how the book works though, is it?" Nikolai asks, tilting its head to the side, its braid swinging back and forth. "Besides, I know you know that you do. You wouldn't be longing for a home if you truly never had one. People don't know what they have until they lose it—you can't truly want something you never had."
"What about you and freedom?"
Nikolai halts in its argument for a second, taken off guard. And then it laughs, a real laugh that makes it bend double. It wipes a tear from the corner of its eyes when it stands up.
Sigma watches it in bewilderment. It confuses him so much.
There is something about Nikolai that Sigma knows it could ruin him with. He doesn't know what it is but he knows it's dangerous—not just in general but specifically to Sigma. For Sigma.
It longs for all its tethers to this world to be cut. Sigma longs for a single tether he can cling to.
Maybe that's why it's dangerous. They're the worst possible combination. Completely opposing wants.
Which is why he can never understand it. They're too different.
(Or maybe you're just scared what you will find out about yourself if you let Nikolai be something more than a fleeting moment.
Maybe you're not that different. Maybe that's exactly what scares you.)
"I never expected you to surprise me," Nikolai says honestly, a twinkle in its eyes. "You're such a delight, Sigma-chan."
Sigma doesn't answer. Doesn't know how to.
"Well," Nikolai says slowly, "think about it, will you?"
Knowing he won't, Sigma nods. He's pretty sure Nikolai can tell he's lying.
Sigma doesn't expect the way it goes down at all. He doesn't expect what happens to the Sky Casino, he doesn't except losing the only place he could ever feel like he'd belonged (with his secrets hidden there in a locked drawer lost forever too). He doesn't expect Nikolai to save him and he certainly doesn't expect Dazai or what he and Atsushi do for his worldview.
When the offer comes, officially, he accepts it without a second thought—grateful for it.
He finally has a place to belong. A real one. The ADA accept him as he is. They don't use him, like Fyodor did and they don't fill his head with nonsense the same way Nikolai attempted every time it visited.
He mourns the tapes he lost but the more time passes, the more the memory of them fades away,
and away,
and,
That is, until he sees Nikolai again.
It shows up without warning, like it always did, standing near the window to Sigma's new apartment, disappearing and reappearing with the white curtains as the wind from the open window blows them back and forth.
A testament to the nerves of steel he developed, he doesn't even flinch.
"Sigma-chan," it sings, finally stepping closer so Sigma can see it in its full glory. "I finally found you."
"Can't have been that hard," Sigma quips. Nikolai shakes its head.
"You have no idea."
There's a beat of silence and then Nikolai steps forward, ever closer and envelops Sigma in a hug.
It takes him a few seconds to process but once he does, he sort of melts into it—can't help it. Nikolai Gogol is someone who always unsettled and confused him. Most of his memories about it are it annoying him. He's always been wary of it and he never would've described what he felt in its direction as in any way fond.
And yet, he hugs back, arms tightening around Nikolai like he's hugging an old friend. Like he's missed it. Like it meant something to him besides being a fly making noise in his office.
"You're still alive," it breaths, sounding relieved. Sigma spent the entirety of the time he's known Nikolai being confused by it but this—this is beyond confusing. He'd be certain he's dreaming if Nikolai's touch didn't feel so real.
"You haven't heard?" he asks, eventually because he remembers when he touched Fyodor in search of information about him and it essentially knocked him out for almost a week. Maybe that's what it's referring to. Maybe that's why it sounds almost surprised at finding him alive.
"Heard what?" Nikolai asks and Sigma realizes that it doesn't seem as manic as it usually is. It's like something settled in it. Maybe Fyodor dying really helped it in some way.
"That I survived."
"What?" Nikolai furrows its eyebrows before shaking its head. "Doesn't matter. The point is that you're alive. I wasn't sure, I—It was surprisingly hard to find my way back here."
Sigma scrunches his nose, "To Japan?"
Nikolai laughs and it's such a subdued laugh compared to its usual ones that it almost scares Sigma.
"Are you okay?" he asks which is not something he'd generally do with Nikolai because that's just not the type of conversation anyone would have with it.
There's also the fact that Nikolai is technically a terrorist. By all means, Sigma should report it—or at least not let it roam around in his apartment like this. But he simply can't find it in himself to do that.
"Am I okay?" Nikolai asks back, eyebrows shooting up to its hair. Only now does Sigma notice that the usual braid is gone, instead its hair is down and short. "Sigma. Listen to me. Please I—There's no one listening in here, is there? It's just us, right?"
"You're scaring me," Sigma says instead of answering. Nikolai grips his arms frantically.
"Please, Sigma-chan, you have to promise no one is hearing us right now."
"I promise. I promise, Nikolai, what—What's going on?"
"I did it," Nikolai says and then it waits for Sigma's answer like Sigma's supposed to know what the fuck it's talking about. "Sigma-chan, I did it."
"Did what?" Sigma questions, impatient. At least it's still annoying—that much didn't change.
"I made it out of here. Out of this reality. Out of the Book."
"That's not possible," Sigma shakes his head. "Maybe out of this timeline but—You can't escape the Book."
"I have," Nikolai confirms.
"Is this a psychotic episode? Is that why you're so out of it?"
"Sigma-chan," Nikolai squeezes his upper arm, its grip never leaving him. "That's why you don't feel human here. You're not from the Book. You're trapped here. But I can get you out."
"I don't—"
"Do you remember the TV show we used to watch together? Do you remember San?"
"Of course, I remember," Sigma says and it's only sort of a lie. Now that Nikolai mentioned it, he does remember. He could never quite get rid of his locked drawer but he had trouble recounting its exact contents. He doesn't with Nikolai right in front of him.
"That's your reality," Nikolai says so confidently, Sigma almost believes it.
"That's not possible," he says hoarsely once he finds his voice. Nikolai only smiles.
"I think a part of you knows. I sort of always knew, in a way," it admits, one of its hands leaving Sigma's arm to twirl a lock of Sigma's hair around its fingers. "The most ordinary man. What a brilliant joke."
"I don't—" Sigma tries and he chokes on it, his lungs attempting to collapse on themselves. "What are you saying?"
"Listen to me, San," Nikolai says, this time, moving its hands to cup Sigma's face. Hearing that name be directed at him makes a jolt of something—a sense of pain or maybe a thrill—run up Sigma's spine. "I can get you out of here. I can get you home."
"I have a home here," Sigma tries. "For once, I found a place to belong."
"Because He tries to keep you here—Mr. Melancholy. You remember him? From the TV show?"
"You're talking nonsense."
"I always talk nonsense," Nikolai shakes its head. "Not this time. You know I'm right. I can see it on your face, San."
"Nikolai—"
"You need to get home," Nikolai says sternly. "I went there because I wanted to be free. But you belong there. You're dying there, San. Do you remember the last episode of the show we saw? When Mr. Melancholy and His people buried San alive?"
"I—"
"Do you?"
(Images of Mr. Melancholy fill your mind. He mixes a poison and makes you drink it. You see and feel the blue liquid dripping down your chin. He's laughing and you're dying, you can tell.
He carves out your heart. You see him put it in the freezer. It's beating.
You open your eyes and see the sky, the ground hard and cold under you. They start to cover you in dirt—it falls on your clothes, your skin, in your poison filled mouth. You twitch but you can't move your legs to get up.
You're dying.)
"Yes," Sigma admits, squeezing his eyes to stop himself from crying. "Nikolai, that's not real. That's a TV show."
"How is this any more real?" Nikolai throws its arms around. Sigma misses the warmth of its hands on his face so much, he suddenly can imagine that he's trapped under dirt, cold and almost dead.
"I've been here years," Sigma realizes. "If I really was buried alive, I would be dead."
(You're dying.)
"Time passes differently here," Nikolai says, "I thought you could tell."
Sigma wants to call that nonsense but then he remembers the Sky Casino and how days would pass without him noticing when he wasn't with Nikolai.
"Listen to me," Nikolai calls attention to itself again. "If you died there, you'd die here too. Sigma is an imprint, essentially. You're not the real you. You have to know."
"Nikolai—"
"I know you're alive there," Nikolai says sternly. "I found your heart, San. It was still beating."
This is insane. Sigma doesn't know why he's entertaining this. Nikolai's been insane ever since he's known it and yet.
(You're dying there. You'll be dead soon. It'll stop hurting soon.)
(If you stay here, you'll die.)
"What do I do?" he whispers softly.
"I've got everything prepared." Nikolai sounds serious—a tone not befitting it in the slightest but it's been teetering on serious ever since entering his aparment. Sigma's almost used to the concept of it now. Emphasis on almost.
He hasn't seen Nikolai since Mersault, to be completely fair. It could've changed since—matured or maybe lost its mind even more. It's hard to tell.
But it feels wrong, to see it like this. Sincere and worried, almost to a frantic degree. Very unlike the Nikolai Sigma once knew.
Still, he nods and lets Nikolai's Ability take him wherever he needs to go.
"Is that—Nikolai, what is this?" Sigma looks at the hole in the ground with a sense of unease settling over him, his stomach churning.
"You can't technically die here," Nikolai remarks. "Once you're fully buried, you have to start clawing your way out. You'll be back home then."
"How would I—"
"A magician never reveals its tricks," Nikolai grins and for the first time since climbing through Sigma's window, it sounds like itself.
That doesn't help calm Sigma.
"There's no way I'm doing this."
"It's the only way."
"You can't expect me to trust you here—you're a terrorist. You intended to kill Fyodor because he was your friend. Why would I let you bury me alive?"
"Because you know the truth now," Nikolai says easily, like this isn't absolutely insane. It's always been good at spouting nonsense, after all. "You can't claw your way out unless you're underground."
Sigma never should've followed it here. Its mind is clearly crumbling—or have already crumbled. The signs were all there. The way it's different than it used to be. All signs point towards psychosis.
"You're dying, San," Nikolai reminds. "You need to claw your way out of your grave."
"This is not my grave," Sigma argues because it isn't and it's not going to be. "You're insane. You found out that I'm finally settled, I'm finally happy—that I finally belong and you came here to ruin it. You came here to kill me, to take everything I've ever had from me."
"San, please," Nikolai pleads. "You don't belong here. You never will."
(Every time you hear her name, something rattles inside of your chest.
San.
You remember her being beautiful. Powerful too.
You're not her. You can't be.
But you don't know how long you can be someone else, either.)
Sigma shakes his head. "It's not real if I don't think about it," he declares before pushing Nikolai in the open grave and then bolting out of there.
(You're dying, San.)
(You're dying.)
You're dying.
He never sees Nikolai again.
Sigma really thought it'd be back.
He left his window open for almost a year, waiting for it to fly in again but it never did.
Nikolai's always been persistent. But it never shows its face again. Maybe Ranpo or someone else from the Agency helped make sure of that it couldn't. There is no way they haven't found out. They know everything, after all.
Eventually, the memory starts to fade. Nikolai's face becomes blurry in his mind. He becomes unable to recall its voice.
He wonders if it died in that grave. If it fell and broke its wing and never flied again.
For his part, he's doing alright. He started dating Dazai and they're happy. Happier, at least.
Work is fine too. He has a good job at the Agency.
His life is a nice life—one he's grateful for. He doesn't wish for more. He couldn't anyway—he has everything he ever wanted.
It's a regular work day at the Agency when out of nowhere you see Nikolai's face in the corner of your eye in the bathroom. You look up, turning around, confirming it's not actually there before turning back, your gaze catching on on the person in the mirror.
You don't recognize him. It's not you.
If you close your eyes, you can see San. When you open it, it's just Sigma.
You walk out, with your hands shaking.
Your chest hurts, like something wants to claw out. You feel like you can barely breathe.
"I'm dying!" you scream, desperately.
No one pays you any mind.