Chapter Text

Idealistically Astrayed

The sequel to Misguided Ideals

[ 1 ] 

Again?

The title of this chapter is a lyric contained in the song below.

     ‘Can’t take the kid from the fight?

Take the fight from the kid.

Sit back, relax.

Sit back, relapse again.’

Panic! At The Disco

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Two years later.  October 1st, 2022

It always gets sort of beautiful around this type of year, in Heiya’s opinion, where it isn’t quite cold — the mornings and evenings are vaguely chilly, nipping almost on the colder days, and just warm enough throughout the school day. 

The Momiji trees were her favourite. Call Heiya basic; she doesn’t give a crap. It’s nice to find beauty in normalcy, something she herself had struggled with for the majority of the first part of her life, and for the past two years when said normalcy has been stripped away from her. 

She crushes one of the star-like leaves beneath her prosthetic foot as she continued to walk home, her fingers carelessly cradling the phone within her hand, pushing it against her ears as she rolls her eyes, almost tempted to throw the device on the ground and have that be her next step if it were to stop her mother’s one sided discussion.

Instead, with a sigh, Heiya glanced toward the tree again, her face twisted into an awful display of, she daresay grief (it’s certainly what it felt like), before she decided to screw her eyes shut. These Momiji trees were pretty, but the ones in Shibuya were prettier. That just may be Heiya’s bitterness talking, though. 

“Just for another evening or two.” Her mother requested, like she always does, a fauxly innocent uplift to her tone and a certain pride about her upon believing her poorly disguised intentions were concealed. It was almost laughable— no, it was. “You guys can go to that restaurant we went to when we first moved here? That would be lovely, wouldn’t it?”

Heiya hummed in disapproval. “I don’t think dad would want to go out again.”

“What makes you say that?”

Maybe the fact that she knows he knows that she doesn’t give the slightest when they do go out for each other, and despite the maturity that should come with his age, he doesn’t even try to salvage the outing? “He’s been out with me twice in two weeks.” Heiya noted, clicking her tongue. “His capacity is once, and that’s pushing it.”

The line went silent for a second, and Heiya could almost see the look on her mother’s countenance now. Something along the lines of disappointment. “Don’t be ridiculous, Heiya. That’s your father.”

Despite herself, an exasperated sigh falls from Heiya’s lips as she lifts a hand upward toward her hair. It doesn’t take long for her mind to piece together an articulate jab or two— one Heiya would argue was severely overdue, though as she opened her mouth, the sound of ringing drew her attention instead, and with a small ‘huh’, she pulled her phone away from her ear, glancing downward at the screen.

Her mother’s words, or whatever she was saying, sounded distant now — and whether or not it was because her phone’s volume wasn’t loud enough, or the fact that she was receiving another call from the contact of ‘Maizono, Sayaka’ on her phone, Heiya wasn’t quite sure. The way in which her brows dip is instantaneous, her stride immediately slowing and growing to a halt as she blinks, tilting her head to the side in confusion. 

Maizono Sayaka.

“Look, mom, I’m gonna have to call you back.” Heiya says with a swiftness about her words, pulling her phone back to her ear, and allowing the fingers of her other hand to fall against her lips.

“Why?” Her mother barked out. “I’m talking to you.”

“My friend’s calling me.”

“What friend?”

“Mom, seriously? You’re making me sound like a loner.” Heiya rolled her eyes, crossing an arm over her torso as she hunched her shoulders slightly, the ringing that had once caught her attention before dying out as soon as it had started. “This one girl from school— you should be glad I’m making friends anyway.”

“Heiya.” Her mother started, disbelief etched into her tone. “This is the third school you’ve been to since we moved. Since then, you haven’t made any friends, or even bothered to talk to anyone; how do I know you’re telling the truth, and it’s not one of those misfits from Tokyo?”

“I’m not dumb, mom. I know why you want dad out the house. You’re too obvious when you’re whoring around with that electrician.” Heiya snapped, her words coming out the slightest bit louder than she intended — judging by the wayward glance shot at her by the mother and son walking past her — but like many things Heiya had mentioned and hadn’t, this was long overdue. “You can’t control every aspect of my life! You already dragged me out of Tokyo— and it’s not any of them. I’m eighteen, mom, you need to give me a break.”

With that, and a mutter of some curse under her breath, Heiya hastily pulls the phone away from her ear, jabbing her finger against the decline button furiously. “Seriously.” She murmurs to herself, shaking her head from side to side at her mother’s audacity to assume Heiya was— what, deluded? 

She pushes the annoyance her mother festered within her — and, you know, the fact that she is a bitch — to the back of her mind as she flickers through her past calls, her tongue jutting out of her lip slightly as she clicked on the contact that had previously called, and without an ounce of hesitance, pressed call.

“What happened?” Heiya, with one arm holding her phone upward, somehow managed to tuck the other between it in an attempt to fold them, as her lips turned downward.

The sigh that fell from Aguni’s mouth was… deep, deep in a way Heiya didn’t think she could quite put into words. Unlike their past conversations, the brief calls following her move where Aguni would check in, where she’d throw the same qualm of ‘what happened’ because they sternly exclaimed before she left that contacting her was for emergencies only, Aguni stayed strangely quiet.

“Have you heard anything from anyone else?” Aguni inquired slowly.

“Heard what?” She echoed, her eyes narrowing as she clutched the phone tighter in her grasp. “Its been radio silent over here. You know that you’re the only one that calls.”

Aguni doesn’t respond— in fact, Aguni stays completely and utterly silent, almost as if he hadn’t been the one to call Heiya first. The only sound Heiya could pick up from the other line was the slow, steady sound of Aguni’s regulated breathing.

“What is it, Aguni? What am I supposed to know?” Heiya pushed, a nervous smile blooming on her face as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re scaring me. You’re not usually like this.”

Alas, he clears his throat, and if Heiya didn’t know any better, she’d think Aguni sounded somewhat pained. And pained was something Aguni never really was. As she heard his breath hitch on the other line, hesitating for a moment, Heiya felt her shoulders hike upwards slightly, almost bracing herself for— what? 

The words Aguni utters were words Heiya never thought she’d hear. 

“What?” A small, nervous huff of laughter falling from her lips, uncertainty clinging at her words. “You’re joking.”

“I don’t joke, Heiya.” Aguni says solemnly, and if Heiya were to see him right now, in this state, she doesn’t doubt his head would be hanging between his shoulders in defeat. Or maybe he changed just as much as she presumes the others did within the past two years. “Not about this.”

Despite the fact Aguni couldn’t see, Heiya found herself shaking her head from side to side in dismissal, her voice a strange mix of light and heavy. “But that’s impossible.” No, impossible wasn’t the right word. It was downright incomprehensible. Something that only wanders through your mind in night terrors. Something that would’ve never passed Heiya’s mind— ever.

“I’m sorry you had to hear about this over the phone, Heiya.”

But, despite the fact that she may’ve thought it was incomprehensible, Aguni was right about one thing; he doesn’t joke, not about this stuff. “Oh.” Is all Heiya manages to say after a pause. She doesn’t even remember where she was walking anymore, and upon second thought, maybe she ought to take a seat with the way in which her leg(s) began to feel unsteady, barely able to hold her own weight. “I think I’m gonna call you back. Probably.”

She doesn’t bid him a farewell. Heiya would be heading back to Shibuya anyway.

For now, she takes a seat on the bench under the Momiji tree.

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Thirty Seven Minutes Earlier

Well… there’s one thing for certain, and it’s that a front door has never felt so threatening. Tatta supposed it made sense; it was Karube’s front door, after all, which honestly speaks louder than any other words he could try explain it with. He wrung his hands for the fifth time since arriving, resisting the urge to adjust his cap (and hoping that Karube did not have a doorbell camera, or else that would be really embarrassing) as he inhaled shakily.

They say rip off the bandaid, right? That’s basically what this is. He just has to psych up the courage to just—

Ring the doorbell. Tatta just rang the doorbell. And, before he can even dwell on what he’d just done, or maybe consider abandoning ship and turning to go home, curl up, and cry, the door is slowly pulled open. Though, despite who Tatta had intended to speak to, he finds himself reasonably shocked as he meets the equally perplexed face of Chota. At least he thinks that’s what his name is?

He really hated being the messenger. And most of all, Tatta hated being the bearer of bad news. 

“Is Karube home?” Tatta inquired, his eyes flickering over Chota briefly before he glanced to the side, attempting to peer into the house.

Chota raised a brow at his attempt, stepping to the side to block the little Tatta was able to see, and in doing so, now Tatta could see on the other side of him. “Nope. He’s out, you’ll have to not come back.” Chota said, his words clipped as he tried to push the door closed.

“Chota! Who is it?” A voice called out from within, a voice that sounded distinctly like Karube— meaning that Chota had lied to him. That was… actually kind of mean.

From the little gap in Chota’s frame that allowed Tatta to see slightly further into the house, he caught the first glimpse of Karube that he’s caught in, well, ages. Clearly having not expected any visitors (and looking as if he’d just woken up), Karube’s hair was scruffed into one direction, dressed in a loose, old t-shirt pulled over his frame and sweatpants (that he was wearing as if they were what Tatta likes to refer as pantaloones). Karube leans to the side, squinting as if it were going to help him make out the person at the door any better, though the moment caught sight of Tatta, whether it was due to his recognisable cap or not, his expression dropping instantaneously. 

“Not this again.” Karube grumbled to himself, his face twisted into a displeased frown as he swivelled on his heel.

“Karube, wait. Please!” Tatta rushed forwards, bracing a hand against the doorframe as he pushed forward.

“Dude!” Chota called out as Tatta pushed past him, almost losing his footing from the way in which he’d tumbled over Chota’s foot upon the forced entry. “Get out of here!”

But he couldn’t, and it was only that thought that was spinning around in circles as if it were on a merry-go-round in Tatta’s mind as he rushed through the house and into the living room, hastily following Karube in his wake as the other— ignorant as one could be— refused to turn backward. “Karube!” Tatta called out again, slightly breathless. 

“Why the hell are you here?” Karube whipped around, a frown heavy on his countenance as he glared at Tatta. “Have you spoken to Arisu? Did he seriously forgive you?”

“Forgive me?” Tatta’s brows knitted together as he pointed toward himself. “I didn’t do anything wrong!” And he really didn’t! It took Kuina and Ann ages to convince him of that!

Karube merely scoffed, swivelling back on his heel and having a disinterested hand behind him Tatta’s way. “I don’t know why you’re here Tatta—“

“Please, I just need you to listen!” Tatta shot forward, taking a few more steps toward Karube as the other tried to advance in the other direction. He bites back the tears threatening to dazzle his vision, and, for the moment, Tatta has to ignore the tightness in his throat that both threatens to splurge the horrors he knows and keep them all only to himself.

“—it’s been a year.” Karube exclaimed, raising both hands upward. “A perfectly quiet, stress free, year without any of you popping up and doing what you are now!”

“Can you guys like, not fight in here?” Chota looked between them, standing awkwardly by the front door with his hand still dangling on the handle.

They weren’t listening. They really, really won’t listen, and it’s serious this time. Tatta hasn’t spoken to Karube in a year, why would he do so now if it wasn’t important like he’s trying to tell him? And why doesn’t Karube know that?

“I don’t want to be dragged into whatever mess you guys have found yourselves in again.” Alas, Karube turns back around, shaking his head from side to side in both a dismissive and stern manner. “Count me out of it.”

“You know that was nobody's fault.” Tatta’s shoulders dropped; at least he thinks Karube knew?

Karube huffed, rolling his eyes. “Yeah? Tell that to your friend.”

“Niragi?” And that’s a whole other thing, Tatta hasn’t spoken to Niragi either. Tatta— Tatta was just told to come here and tell Karube. He doesn’t know why he was put up to it, sometimes he doesn’t really know why he’s put up with anything because nothing good comes from his involvement, but Ann sounded like she really believed in him. “This isn’t about him!”

“For once.” Karube folded his arms over one another, cocking a brow at Tatta.

“Stop! Please, just stop.” He found himself pleading, holding both hands upward as his cap as he looked toward Karube with widened eyes. “Niragi doesn’t know yet.” He really didn’t want to, Tatta really tried not to, but despite himself and the courage in which he’d walked to Karube’s house with, Tatta found himself reduced to tears in a matter of seconds. Little, light tears welled in Tatta’s eyes as he glanced downward, his lip trembling as the first few began to drip down his face.

“What do you mean he doesn’t know?” Karube tilted his head to the side, his expression softening a touch. “Did something happen?” 

Of course something happened! Tatta wouldn’t have come otherwise, he knows where he’s not wanted and it’s here. “I didn’t have a choice but to come here. You don’t— don’t pick up your phone anymore, you don’t want to speak to any of us other than Arisu.” Big, bold tears, cascading down Tatta’s cheeks like there was no way in which they could escape slower. “I haven’t spoken to anyone aside from Kuina and Ann in ages. And I— I didn’t want our next conversation to be about this.” He hiccuped, pulling his cap downward to shield his eyes.

“What happened?”

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An hour and twenty minutes earlier

“Chishiya! Open up!” Kuina hollers, bringing her hand upward once again to bang against the door. “Are you being serious? Come on, it’s been days now. I don’t even know what I did wrong.” Her words ended with a whine as she took a step backward, a scowl pulling at her lips at Chishiya’s audacity. 

They really can’t keep going like this; Chishiya can’t isolate himself every time he feels like it, it’s not fair, not for Kuina who’s tried relentlessly to just be there. She knows the silence was hard, the lack of communication was hard, everything about this past year has been hard. What Chishiya needs to realise is that he wasn’t the only person dealing with it. He didn’t even talk to the others like that before the argument— so why is he acting like this now?  

She takes a deep breath, reminding herself that yes, this is Chishiya, and yes, despite his very many displeasurable traits, he is still her best friend. So, with annoyance very prevalent within her tone, Kuina lifts her hand upward to knock at his door again. “Communication is key, you know. And I have that key you gave me.” Kuina said with a smirk, lifting the key upward and swinging it within her finger. “If you don’t open the door and stop ignoring me for no reason, I will use it!”

To her surprise, it had been Niragi to give her the key a few months before the argument, something she reckons that he’d forgotten since she still has it in her possession, and ironically enough he said it was for situations just like this. While they now lived together in the same house, Niragi knew he couldn’t always be there, and he always knew that Chishiya (‘the stubborn fuck’, as he’d called him in the moment) would never open the door if he didn’t want to. 

So, key. 

“I don’t care if it’s not an emergency.” She muttered to herself. It didn’t matter if Chishiya couldn’t hear— she already gave him enough of a warning. Ten minutes worth of a warning. The next moment, with the key thrust into the keyhole, Kuina turned the lock, pushing the door open and taking a step forward. “Chishiya? Where are you?” She sing-songed, pushing the keys into her pocket as she closed the door gently behind her.

No answer. That was to be expected; was Chishiya petty enough to call this breaking and entering? “Are you seriously hiding from me? This is a different type of low, man.” Kuina shook her head, noting that both the living room and kitchen were void of Chishiya, or Niragi for that matter, a win and a loss. To be honest, Chishiya’s dedication to not speaking to Kuina was kinda impressive. “I just want to talk.” She called out as she wandered through the halls, her hand tracing the wall boredly as, rounding the next corner, she pushed open the half-opened door to Chishiya’s bedroom, dipping her head inside when the gap was wide enough. 

No Chishiya, though as she raked her eyes over the state of the room — the duvet of his bed hanging off the side, alongside the objects that previously decorated the bedside table in an ordered manner scattered across the floor. It was unusual in the sense that Chishiya prided his ability to maintain a clean, clear space more than he prided… she doesn’t know, something else he prides a lot? Even with Niragi officially moving in a few weeks after their last game, in all the times that Kuina had visited the two, Chishiya always seemed to be on top of things.

Resting her hand against the doorframe, Kuina couldn’t help the way in which her brow involuntarily raised at the scene, something so distinctly wrong about it in a way that Kuina couldn’t quite place her finger on. Though, it’s the distant sound of running water that catches Kuina’s ear before she can scrounge her mind for an explanation of why, and with a spur of morbid curiosity, Kuina pushes herself away from the doorframe, instead glancing over toward the bathroom a door over.

“Chishiya..?” Kuina called out as she neared the door, hesitating as she lifted her hand upward to the handle. “Is everything okay?”

There’s always something in life that doesn’t quite seem tangible. Sometimes, it’s viewed as a distant possibility; yes, leaving your house door could lead to a robbery, but what’s the chance of it being you out of the millions of other houses that could’ve been chosen? But, just maybe, it was that sort of ignorance Kuina had about her, or maybe she’d truly known all along when Chishiya hadn’t met her at the door with irritance lacing his countenance. In all actuality, maybe she should’ve known better. They aren’t normal people anymore, they hadn’t been since the night Chishiya had met Kuzuryu under the low light of the moon for the first time, even if she hadn’t known it yet.

Maybe she should’ve even expected this?

Her hand slips from the handle in a sluggish motion, her eyes widening in horror as, against her will, her mouth fell open, “Oh.” is all Kuina said, all she could manage, as she looked forward; noting the way in which Chishiya’s head, from what she could see at the angle, lay unmoving against the porcelain of the bathtub— the water, cloudy with red, swarming his body, making him seem so, so much smaller than he actually was.

“Oh, oh no.” Gaining her bearings seemed just as difficult as taking her first step forward, the movement of her foot within the overflowing water — muddled with a damned ruby and appearing almost pink-ish — delaying her slightly as she rushed forward. Skidding to her knees, and hitting her midsection against the edge of the bathtub with a thud, a dull ache following in her wake, Kuina finally got the chance to look over Chishiya.

Chishiya, her best friend, who lay in a bathtub, filled with a mixture of water and his own blood. Chishiya, whose arms were littered with copious amounts of deep, precisely placed and raised, wounds, angry-looking around the edges and still oozing with blood despite the unusually white pallor of Chishiya’s skin.

Kuina’s gaze had dropped for only a second as she froze, her bottom lip wobbling as her brain took a moment to understand— no, comprehend— just what she was looking at. It was only when a small sound escaped Chishiya’s lips, a pained whimper, that her breath finally caught, a wave of horror swept through her as the reality of what had happened sank in. 

In an act of desperation, her heart hammering a grieving melody within her chest, Kuina’s hands flew to his shoulders. “Chishiya! Chishiya! Oh— oh my god.” She nearly whined, her hand leaving Chishiya’s shoulder in as she indecisively held it between them, her mouth bobbing open and closed before, in a panicked frenzy, her hand shot out to his shoulder again. “It’s gonna be okay. It— what the fuck?” 

How could he do this to himself?

Why would he do this to himself?

With another pained groan, barely audible with the way Chishiya’s lips were pursed, he shifted slightly. Another slight movement, one that had Kuina leaning forward as she raked her gaze over him with waterlogged eyes, gasping as Chishiya, after a moment, peeled his own open. “Kuina?” He mumbled, his head falling against the hand against his shoulder unwillingly as he glanced around. Glancing downward at himself and his undeniably self-inflicted wounds, Kuina daresay confusion flickered across his unguarded face, his brows knitting together with effort.

“It’s me. It’s me Chish.” Kuina nodded along helplessly, adjusting her position on the floor to hold Chishiya’s shoulders more securely.  

“I—“ Chishiya started, his tongue sounding heavy in his mouth as he blinked slowly. Leaning the back of his head against the edge of the bathtub behind him, Chishiya muttered something under his breath— something Kuina couldn’t quite make out, not when his eyes were slipping shut again.

“Why, Chishiya?” She whispered, her words wobbling as tears cascaded down her face. Kuina shook his shoulders again, the others eyes peeling open at the act. “Why— why did you do this to yourself?”

Once again, Chishiya blinked slowly, and when he looked back at her, his gaze was unfocused, almost as if he wasn’t truly able to comprehend Kuina’s words. “I don’t…” He trailed off a moment afterward, his countenance pulling into a frown as he glanced to the side, and with a little, weak movement; the lifting of his finger, Chishiya pointed somewhere off to the side. “..get,” Was all he could manage, and in a swift movement, Kuina’s head whipped to the side, her eyes frantically searching for—

A towel.

Of course— yes. He was bleeding out, they needed to stop the bleeding. Kuina needed to stop the bleeding, and Chishiya was telling her how.

Reluctantly removing a hand from Chishiya’s shoulder, Kuina bent backward, her body wracking with a sob as her hands shook, latching around the towel discarded on the floor somewhere off in the distance. The following moment, she lifted one of Chishiya’s arms upward slightly, hurriedly folding the fabric over his wounds and watching as both the bathwater and blood seeped through the towel almost instantaneously.

“Harder.” Chishiya practically whispered. Her hands trembled as she nodded, her grasp around the towel tightening. Upon doing so, a small hissing found fell from Chishiya’s lips as he weakly attempted to sit upward, wincing as his other hand fell against the towel. 

She doesn’t understand. Chishiya was okay— he’s always okay. Isn’t he?

“It’s gonna be okay, Chishiya.” Kuina reassured with a cry, her shoulders bobbing in her effort to restrict her tears. “It’s gonna…” She tried to continue, though with a shuddering breath, Kuina couldn’t help the next sob that wracked her body. “what was wrong? What— why did you do it?”

“I didn’t…” Chishiya glanced upward at her, a sincerity she couldn’t quite place shining within his eyes as he met hers. “didn’t…” He exhaled slowly, his eyelids growing droopier as he tried to piece together his words.

Kuina shot upward instantaneously, her grasp in the towel tightening— hoping for a wince, or something, that would maybe wake Chishiya up more. She received none of which, nothing except for the way in which Chishiya’s body slowly began to relax into the water, the tension oozing out of body as swiftly as his blood was. “No, please. You’ve gotta stay awake. You have to.” She cried out, shaking her head furiously as she leant over the bathtub, pulling her face towards Chishiya’s to search for— anything, maybe a sign he was awake? That he would be woken?

She couldn’t do this alone. She wasn’t a doctor— she didn’t know.

But there were people that could.

“Okay. Okay, okay,” Kuina said to herself through short, unfulfilling gasps, pulling her phone from her back pocket, the device nearly slipping from her grasp as her bloodied fingers struggled to hold the phone with stability. 

Her bloodied fingers. Because of Chishiya’s blood.

Without moving her hand from the towel wrapped around Chishiya’s arm, Kuina called 119.

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It wasn’t everyday that Ann was located in the police station; more often than not, her visits were brief, brief enough that calling it a ‘visit’ was generous. Yet, despite that, she sat side by side to one of the officers in the building, a gory photo the two were both professionally desensitised to thrust between them of some murder Ann hadn’t completely concerned herself with. 

They shared theories and tidbits of information like starving piranhas in a tank of fish— while it wasn’t the nicest imagery, Ann’s job wasn’t either, and despite the fact that everything within the building is very strictly confidential and private, Ann perks up slightly as an officer a few cubicles down spoke outwardly.

“Sending an ambulance and the police to Shoto Area.” She heard distantly, the words almost quiet enough that she wouldn’t have heard it if she hadn’t been paying attention. “I’ll forward the address.” 

Shoto Area?

The officers description of the murder scene, and the information they were previously discussing, passed through one of Ann’s ears and fell through the other as she screwed her face in thought. And, despite the confidential and privacy policy within the building, Ann found her eyes latching onto an officer bounding toward the exit of the building, stern face and assertive. “What happened?” She called out, ignoring the way in which the lady beside her deflated.

“You didn’t hear?” The officer paused in his stride, tilting his head to the side and leaning slightly closer to Ann almost as if the emergency were the latest gossip. “Apparently, it’s one of the survivors of—“ The man’s eyes widened the following second, his lips falling an ‘o’ shape as the word, “Oh.” fell from his lips, all before he lifted his hand upward, covering his mouth at his impoliteness as he stared downward at Ann.

She watched with narrowed eyes as the officer pottered away, easily engaging in conversation with another officer who seemed to be on the case also; and, despite herself, she couldn’t help the feeling of dulled dread that wormed its way into her gut. 

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Present Time; 15:47

Yoshinoya, as it had been all those years ago, was still a shit hole. It was kind of impressive that it was still in business actually. While Niragi would argue that the food is grotesquely amazing (if that makes sense), the quality of the building was not, and adding onto the dimmed out lights of ‘h’ and ‘o’ in the name hung above the store joined the ‘s’. If Niragi weren’t in such a bad mood right now, maybe he would’ve found it in himself to roll his eyes and chuckle at the crudity of a name the store had unintentionally reduced itself to.

But Niragi was in a bad mood, and ‘Yoinya’ was not as funny as it should’ve been. Chishiya’s lucky he’s bringing him back gyudon— or, for that matter, even going back to the house after the other’s audacity. 

Chishiya always found a way to piss him off. It was like it was in his nature to just know which one of Niragi’s buttons to push for him to have an outward reaction; and Niragi daresay that Chishiya maybe even thrived in the control he had in it. Maybe. 

Or maybe that’s what old Chishiya would’ve liked? Niragi doesn’t fucking know — it’s hard to think rationally when you’re angry, even moreso when one of the only reprieves is the breathing techniques that the person that made you angry instructed you with. Niragi finds himself grumbling some sort of thank you (in his own, crude way) to the cashier, a man who merely quirks a brow at Niragi’s behaviour, though knowingly deciding not to press as he boredly returns back to work. 

Despite himself, Niragi finds himself huffing irritably as he pushes open the door of Yoinya to exit, the events replaying like a whirlwind of what should be regret for Chishiya, maybe exhaustion for Niragi for— he doesn’t know, having the same conversation multiple times for the past two years with no change. 

And then he reminds himself, in an oddly assured manner, he remembers that this is Chishiya he’s thinking about. That really shouldn’t soothe his irritance as much as it does, especially considering Chishiya was the catalyst.

At first, when his phone rings in his pocket, the simplicity of it serving to piss him off all the more, Niragi decides to ignore it. If it was Chishiya— well, Chishiya could message him if it were that important. In fact, screw what Niragi said before, Chishiya could decide to not message Niragi and instead allow him to simmer in his justified anger before re-entering the house. At least he’s bearing the gift of gyudon.

Although, as the phone continues to persistently ring (the person on the other line clearly not taking the hint), Niragi roughly pulls the device from his pocket, and upon doing so he discovers two things. One, no, it was in fact not Chishiya. And two, the mystery person who did not know what not wanting to call was even if it came out of their ass was nobody other than Kuina. 

Kuina? Kuina Hikari?

Niragi’s countenance pulls into the frown at the contact that invades his screen, producing a god-awful wail of a ring that Niragi doesn’t think would cease even after he picked up the phone. But, that’s just it— why the everlasting fuck was Kuina calling him? The last time they’d spoke was, what, a month ago, when Niragi told her to quote and quote ‘fuck off because your existence is visually polluting the view from out my window’, to which Chishiya replied, ‘not your window’ despite the fact they now officially lived together. Their window then.

The last time they’d constructedly spoken to each other was last year. 

So, as he drew his thumb toward the answer button, the words ‘why the hell are you calling me’ were heavy on the tip of his tongue— and he did nearly say it, his mouth opened wide enough just as he picked up the call and his breath hitching with intention. 

“Niragi—“ The girl in the other line gasped, a mixture of agony and sorrow turning what would’ve been her next few words into a jumble of cries and undecipherable words.

And… Niragi doesn’t really remember the last time he’s heard Kuina cry. Not like this. “Kuina?” They’re not supposed to call; it’s just not in their normal anymore. In fact, Niragi knows Kuina would do anything in her power to outwardly avoid Niragi in any situation possible. Why had she broken?  “What happened?”

He’s not worried. Perhaps it’s curiosity that made Niragi halt in his step as he continued to walk toward his car; and maybe the way in which his brow furrowed, pulling his face into something akin to a frown, was purely due to intrigue. 

“Niragi.” Kuina cried, taking a shuddering breath as if to brace herself— or Niragi— fuck, he wasn’t even sure. “It’s—“ 

But it was Kuina. 

And Kuina doesn’t call him crying. She hadn’t done so for two years, and not anytime before that either.

Something is wrong.

“What happened, Kuina?”

No, not just wrong. Something is so indefinitely wayward that Kuina is physically incapable of getting her words out right, reducing her to heartfelt cries that sound nearly painful as they tear themself from her throat. Niragi stands there in the middle of Yoshinoya’s carpark, the warmth of the food seeping through the thin paper of the takeaway bag as he holds it with one arm, adjusting his grasp.

“He— oh, Niragi.” She gasped, filling her lungs with too little air as her voice cracked.  “I’m gonna be sick, I’m—“

“The fuck happened?” Niragi demanded (and, shamelessly, he will say that maybe the words fell from his mouth with concern), pushing his phone closer to his ear as he leant the food more securely on his hip instead. Who’s he? “You need to talk.”

Sobs filled the other line as Kuina tried to piece her words together. “Chishiya— I knew I should’ve gone earlier.” She said wetly, her words full of regret as she wailed. “I didn’t know.”

“What about Chishiya?” Niragi’s grasp tightened on both his phone and the bag, his eyes flickering toward the car as he decided to pull himself from his stupor, taking a few swift steps over toward his vehicle. “Kuina, I saw him barely half an hour ago.”

Chishiya was fine. Yeah, a little pissed probably, but when wasn’t he? It wasn’t something worth crying over. What, was he ignoring her again or something? Niragi thought Kuina was used to that by now. 

But it doesn’t sound like that. If Niragi didn’t know any better, he would’ve assumed the only thing Kuina’s cries could have meant. The only reason why she would call him in over a year.

“You didn’t—“ Her breath hitched, her words falling to a whisper. “you didn’t see him. See him, Niragi. He tried to—“ Kuina cut herself off immediately, taking another shuddering breath.

“He tried to what?”

“Kill himself!” Kuina blurted out, the words toppling from her lips like water off a cliffside. She continued to weep the next second, her words muddled as she presumably held a hand to her lips. “It was bad, so bad. I— I don’t know what to do, they didn’t let me in the ambulance.”

“…What?” Niragi stilled, his hand faltering as it reached up to grasp at the handle of the car door. “Chishiya? Kill himself?”

Now that was a joke. Niragi didn’t really take Kuina for prank calls though?

Because, come on, Chishiya was the more self-preserving person Niragi’s had the pleasure (eh) of ever meeting. Niragi’s the only person on this world who knows Chishiya like he does the back of his own hand; the way his lips curl into an arguably unguarded smirk when he’s actually amused by something, when being in control feels like too much, when being in control is all he needs— everything, Niragi knows everything, because, being his boyfriend (a label that came about sometime early last year), he’s supposed to.

“It’s true.” Kuina sobbed, the ‘ue’ of ‘true’ falling from her mouth in a choppy, prolonged cry.

“Kuina, you’re wrong.” Niragi affirmed, a disbelieving laugh of some sort slipping from his mouth as he shook his head from side to side. “I just saw him. I was just bringing him back Yoshinoya.”

It had been, what, twenty minutes? Maybe thirty?

“Stop.” Kuina pleaded wetly. “You didn’t— it was so bad Niragi, oh my God.”

Kuina must be delirious— that is genuinely the only explanation for this. There’s no way, absolutely no way, Chishiya would kill himself. It’s just not something that’s possible; five will never be an even number, Karube would always be a dick, and Chishiya would never kill himself. “Where are you?” He finds himself asking anyway, pushing himself into the driver's seat of his car.

“Yours. We need to go to the hospital, now.”

⋆｡’    ⸸𖠚⛤⚚    ‘｡⋆

The next thing Niragi knows, he’s standing in the waiting room of the place he hates the most. The place that Chishiya had warned him against all those years ago because of its corruption— that’s the place that was in charge of whether Chishiya lived or died. The entire reason why Niragi walked out of that house in the first place. 

His hands ball into fists at his sides as he takes a slow breath in, stopping short of the seats as he glances over the familiar strangers dotting the room. Because, that’s all they were now; maybe they fought for their lives together two years ago, and maybe they were buddies then, but now?

Now they finally got together again under the concern of Chishiya, who half of them hadn’t bothered contacting in a year. Why should they sit here, maybe shed a tear and, what, even get to pretend to feel bad for what happened? For what Kuina claimed happened?

Aguni glanced upward— whether he was addressing Niragi, or the others (despite the fact that Niragi doesn’t think he’s spoken to them much over the course of the year anyway), Niragi didn’t quite frankly care. “Heiya’s on her way.” He announced, his tone gruff as he leaned forward in his seat, bracing his elbows against his knees as he clasped his hands together.

Ann’s brows dipped in confusion, though the hand splayed over Kuina’s never faltered in its comforting, back and forth motion. “I thought Heiya wasn’t supposed to be in contact with us?”

“She’s not. She said she worked her way around it, though.” Aguni noted, nodding his head slightly as his eyes drifted toward Niragi. “She’s due here tomorrow.”

“Yeah… I told Arisu.” Karube nodded along, surprisingly serious for his overall lack of social awareness. Niragi would be impressed at his current capeability if Karube wasn’t such a dick on the regular, and if his boyfriend wasn’t being fucking hospitalised right now. “He has to finish up some project, or like dust it up and hand it to the next person, before making his way over. He shouldn’t be long.”

Niragi bites back the very fucking justified comment of maybe he’ll post about this too. And he doesn’t give a fuck if it wouldn’t be appreciated.

It just… look, dissociating was Chishiya’s thing, and while Niragi’s not claiming that’s what this is, there’s something so distinctly wrong with everything about this that it’s offputting. He feels almost away from it all; Niragi’s been told that Chishiya’s in hospital after a suicide attempt, and for some reason unbeknowst to him, he felt as if he’s had years to grieve it already. In fact, it feels almost as if it weren’t happening. He’s in the hospital waiting room, yes, but he’s been here several times for several different reasons throughout the past two years. 

“Kuina— what,” The words fall from Niragi’s lips before he can even think of reigning them in. “what happened?” He finished, pinching the space between his eyes. 

Kuina’s lips wobble at the thought, her face riddled with tear stains, eyes puffy and her cheeks blotchy. “I don’t know, I don’t know.” The girl said shakily, leaning closer to Ann as she rubbed a soothing hand down her back. “He’s been ignoring me for days. I— I used that emergency key Niragi gave me. It was so, so bad.” She shook her head, trying to rid her mind of the memory as tears pooled in her eyes. “He was— he was in the bathtub when I found him. He looked already dead.”

“No.” Niragi shook his head firmly. There’s no fucking way. “Chishiya wouldn’t do that.” That just wouldn’t— didn’t happen.

“I know what I saw.” Kuina muttered sternly, and Niragi maybe would’ve fixated more on the bitterness behind her words had her eyes not been so red-rimmed. “How could I have seen it wrong? He was right there in front of me.” Kuina exclaimed wetly, pulling her hands from Ann’s to gesture before her. “He was right there.”

“Niragi?” Ann perked up with an uncharacteristic softness— and Niragi doesn’t find it in himself to care. Whether it was supposed to be a question, or Ann’s attempt to reason (ha) with him, or even to fucking comfort him on something he shouldn’t need comfort on because it just should and could not have happened.

“No. Don’t do that.” Niragi huffed, a dull pain blossoming behind his eyelids as he narrowed them, pausing for a moment as his eyes began to water, all before holding a hand out before him. “Everyone fucked off since the argument. Everyone left. Nobody knows how Chishiya was afterwards; he was fine. He was doing the same shit he always does. There must be— some sort of mistake, or something.”

His words only serve in making Kuina cry more, the wails falling from her lips in broken, raw sobs.

“Damn.” Karube swore shakily, and the next moment, he swivelled on his heel, shielding his face as he lifted his hand upward to cover his own eyes — though, despite his attempt, it didn’t shield from Niragi the red hue of his face, nor the way a tear trickled down his cheek.

Tatta looked between them, stepping forward slightly as a hand fell to cup the back of his neck. “We can help him when he wakes up.” Tatta hesitated, pausing— almost as if he didn’t believe his own words. Almost as if he was saying it to try to believe it. “And maybe we can all start talking again like old times. And maybe we can get him therapy?”

Kuina let out a shuddering breath at the mention, shaking her head thoroughly from side to side. “I don’t think he’s waking up.”

“Kuina..”

“You didn’t see him, Ann.” The girl’s eyes widened as she looked toward the other, a sort of certainty in her gaze that, given the situation, was fucking frightening. “None of you saw him.”

Niragi’s not sure when Aguni had taken a stand, in fact, he’s not sure when Aguni had sauntered over to him; he’s only aware of their close proximity as the doors of the waiting room push open, a lady white with a white doctor’s cloak Niragi’s seen Chishiya wear more often than not walking toward them with an intentionally hardened countenance. Somewhere in between the doctor entering the room and eventually standing by their side, Aguni’s hand lightly falls against Niragi’s shoulder, squeezing it softly— and Niragi’s not sure if he wants to push the hand off and berate Aguni for thinking he needed it, for relishing in the comfort it provided because he did.

The doctor scarcely looked between them, her face twisting into something sorrowful, as slowly, she bowed. “I am so, so sorry for your loss.”

“Our… loss?” Tatta echoed distantly.

Their loss?

There’s no way.

There’s no way on this planet or the next that Chishiya killed himself. There must’ve been something more to it— maybe he was being blackmailed? Maybe it was foul play?

There is no way that Chishiya is actually… dead. Dead means he’s not coming back. 

The doctor looked between them, her face pinched in pain as she let the silence linger for a second longer. “Dr Chishiya was a pleasure to work with.” The lady announced, almost proudly, with remorse shining brightly in her eyes.

⋆｡’    ⸸𖠚⛤⚚    ‘｡⋆

There were many questions plaguing Niragi’s mind, many he knew that he would never get an answer to as long as he was alive, and many he knew he would never be able to put into words. Though, there was one thought that consistently ran through his head, taunting every corner of his mind—

Why did he do it?

They’d taken to occupying the area outside of the hospital, close enough that the car park was in sight, but just enough that they weren’t in sight of any nosy bastards, Aguni claiming that maybe fresh air was the best course of action (not without knowingly raking his eyes over Niragi). Niragi didn’t really mind, it’s hard to mind really anything after finding out that your boyfriend was dead, and so he found himself oddly passive, moving in a wave of disbelief and with an arguably justified sense of betrayal. 

“I don’t understand.” Karube murmured after a belated silence. They hadn’t really said anything once they found their spot— words just… didn’t really feel like enough. The look on the other’s face was something Niragi had never seen before, something so utterly dire and serious that it was incomprehensible— he hadn’t looked like that even when he was fighting for his own life against the King of Spades. “Why did he do it? Did we… miss something?”

“You haven’t spoken to us in a year.” Niragi jabbed, his gaze glued to the ground as his arms hung uselessly by his sides. “There’s a lot you missed.”

Karube’s face dropped, his brows pulling upward, looking almost pained as he glanced toward Niragi. “Are you seriously gonna do this now?”

‘Are you seriously doing this right now?’, like it was Niragi who was— what, pretending?

Kuina’s sniffle cut through their quarrel. “Chishiya hadn’t spoken to me for days.” She noted, wiping a hand against her nose as she looked downward. “For no reason. I think I should’ve checked up on him earlier.”

“This isn’t your fault.” Ann glanced toward Kuina, her usually stoic expression faltering slightly. “It isn’t any of ours.” 

Kuina only meekly smiled her way, the action not quite meeting her eyes.

“He was fine.” Niragi placed a hand on his hip, his hand curling into the fabric of his shirt as his brows knitted together. It just… didn’t make sense, not one part of it. “He was genuinely okay. Maybe a little pissed, or something, but it’s Chishiya.”

At least Niragi thought he was genuinely okay.

“Pissed?” Aguni quirked a brow, his words gentle as he spoke— like he was scared Niragi would crack under the pressure. He wasn’t fragile, he wasn’t before, and Chishiya’s— this wouldn’t make him. It shouldn’t. “Why pissed?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“How can it not matter?” Tatta tilted his head to the side, coaxing a singular tear falling from his eye as he quietly continued. “Niragi… he’s…”

“I know.” Niragi didn’t need it spelled out before him and his hand held the entire way. He knew what happened, really. “Fuck, we got in an argument. I don’t even know why.” He admitted, waving the hand that wasn’t against his hip with little energy. 

Karube raked a hand through his hair as he glanced toward Niragi. “So you were the last one to speak with him other than Kuina?”

The hell was that assumption? “The fuck does that mean?”

“I’m just asking.” Karube sighs deeply, widening his eyes as if it were going to get his badly fucking worded point across any better. Spoiler alert; it did not.

“Well it’s not like it was any of you.” Niragi snapped, crossing his arms firmly over one another as he narrowed his eyes at the other, his lip pulling upward into a snarl. 

“Whatever you two have going on right now, you need to stop.” Aguni took a step forward between the two— and when they had advanced and started to near each other, Niragi wasn’t even sure— holding his hand out as he fixed them with a warning glance. It was an expression he hadn’t seen in the other man since, fuck if he knows, maybe the last game they’d played together? “Put your differences aside for a second. Don’t you remember that we fought for our lives together? An argument and extended ignorance over something so small shouldn’t have set us all apart like it did.” And, maybe if Niragi was in a better headspace, maybe he would’ve considered Aguni’s words true. Alas, the other's tone dropped slightly into something more remorseful. “Whatever happened, it—“ Aguni began, though the choked up cry that throttled Kuina’s throat silenced him, and a moment later, without a glance at the girl, he lowered the hand previously intended to divide Niragi and Karube.

“But he had no reason to… you know,” Tatta hesitated, wiping his own tears from his face with open, rough palms. “do that.”

“Chishiya always kept things to himself.” Ann said steadily, her eyes flickering between the group carefully before she continued. “If something had been wrong, nobody would’ve known.”

“I would’ve.” Niragi responded instantaneously and without a doubt, and before anyone could say anything, he shot a glare Karube’s way. “And no, that’s not me being an obnoxious prick.”

“I didn’t even say that.” Karube’s face screwed into a frown as he dragged his hands upward in mock surrender.

Niragi ignored him in favour of turning toward Ann, holding his hands out before himself as if it were helping him explain it better. “I’ve always been able to see Chishiya. Like actually see.”

Aguni took a step toward him. “I think it’s time that we consider the fact that Chishiya had been keeping things for a while.” He addressed the group, all before turning toward him. “Niragi, it wasn’t the first time.” 

“I’m not stupid, I know it wasn’t the first time.” But that was different. Chishiya was keeping things when he was experiencing supernatural adversities to his body, not with something so trivial (as Chishiya would’ve put it) as mental health. “What I’m saying is that it doesn’t make any sense.”

“It doesn’t.” Kuina urged, taking a step forward and toward Niragi. “Come on, he just started taking driving lessons. I have known— I knew Chishiya for eight years; do you know how hard it was to even put the idea in his mind? To get him to commit to it?” She glanced around at them— and they didn’t. They didn’t know because none of them were there. It was plain and simple, and some irrational part of Niragi’s mind hoped that they felt guilty about that. “Why would he do that if he knew that he was going to kill himself? Why— why would he tell me how to save him and try to help me if that’s what he really wanted?”

Tatta, his face all pain stricken in the wrong ways, toyed with the hem of his shirt. “Maybe… it was the spur of the moment?” 

“When the fuck was Chishiya the ‘spur of the moment’ type of person?” Niragi shot back. “Chishiya, that little control freak— who had his spices arranged in alphabetical order, for crying out loud. That Chishiya?”

Ann sighed deeply. “Suicide isn’t like spices in a cabinet.”

Kuina whipped around to face the woman. “Do you seriously believe that Ann?” She inquired with widened eyes. “That he— that he killed himself?”

“Kuina,” Aguni took a step in her direction, ignoring the way the girl threw her head upwards, the words ‘oh my God’ falling from her lips as she avoided Aguni’s eye. “Chishiya socially withdrew himself from the only two people that he was talking to.”

“Niragi?” Tatta called out, looking over toward Niragi as he adjusted his cap, having as much subtlety as a washed up seal. “Uh…” 

“Not now.” Niragi said through gritted teeth, sending Tatta a warning glance.

Tatta was never really good at gauging facial expressions. Or maybe he was and had developed the ability to be a prick over the past year. “But then when?” 

“I really fucking hate that you grew a back bone, you know?” Niragi snapped, holding a hand to his forehead in irritance as he gave Tatta a once over. “Half a backbone.” He corrected. 

“What did you guys argue about?” Okay, first off, fuck Karube for even thinking that he could jump off of Tatta’s newfound confidence. And, he was so fucking prepared to ignore the bastard, maybe even flip him off and remind him of why he could never by privy to that information, but in doing so as he’d shifted his gaze to the side, Niragi’s eyes met with Kuina’s.

“Niragi, please?” She pleaded.

They weren’t friends anymore. They hadn’t been friends for a long, long time… but she was the only one here who could understand him and who knew this wasn’t what it looked like. Maybe it was the blind leading the blind, or maybe there really was some truth behind what they were saying, but Kuina was the only one who wasn’t looking at him like he was crazy for not believing. 

Because she didn’t either.

And Niragi reckoned maybe that was enough to comply. 

“It was about the hospital.” He muttered under his breath, casting a sidelong glance in any direction the others weren’t. They didn’t deserve to know, not because Niragi felt guilty (even if a tiny part of him regretted that moment more than a person knew they could ever regret anything), but because it was his last conversation with Chishiya. It was supposed to be theirs, and what, everyone wants to know about it now to justify what can't be true?

“What about it?” Aguni coaxed, nodding assuringly over in his direction.

“If you let me start.” Probably undeserved, but Aguni didn’t look too bothered anyhow. “I wanted him to refer to another hospital, we all know the one he’s working at is corrupt as fuck. He didn’t want to move.”

“Why?” Kuina’s face pulled into a frown.

“I don’t know.” Niragi shrugged, screwing his eyes shut at the thought. “He wouldn’t say.” 

“I know what I’m doing.” Despite the look in his eye, Chishiya’s voice was impressively steady, the words falling into place as though he'd rehearsed them long before he ever had to say them.

“Did you also know what you were doing when you accepted Kuzuryu’s deal, or were you just as over confident as you are now?”

Chishiya blinked. “You made a deal too.”

“And that was only because of you and your father’s tyranny.” Niragi shot back, his features twisting into a snarl.

“You’re not listening to what I’m saying.”

“That’s rich coming from you!” Niragi barked out in laughter, waving a hand around with his words. “I’m the one telling you that, this job? This future you think you’ve carved out for yourself working in that hospital? It’s the only reason why you got involved with the marks in the first place.” He jabbed a finger at the other. Couldn’t this stubborn asshole just— understand where Niragi was coming from? Unlike how it would be for everyone else, this wasn’t born from spite— God knows that Niragi doesn’t think he can be truly spiteful toward Chishiya ever again. “Nothing good comes from it and you know that. Do you even like saving people’s lives or is it just something you can say that you can do?”

“There’s more to it. You know that.” Chishiya sighed, a sort of resignation about his actions that, in that moment, Niragi didn’t care enough to put a name to. “I want you to know that I tried to tell you. I’m not going to compete in whatever competition you think there should be.”

“Good.” Niragi scoffed, taking a few steps backward as he nodded his head mutely. “I shouldn’t have considered you an option in the first place.”

They blink mutely at him.

Niragi doesn’t really have anything to say either.

The last time Niragi had felt the mark with such intensity was the day they’d completed the Queen of Hearts game, the only time after that was following the few weeks in which Chishiya had been hospitalised. Niragi would give anything— his own life, even, if that would solve anything— for that familiar pang of his wrist, or some sort of foreknowledge that has now escaped him that could provide him with— anything. Anything that would make this make more sense.

⋆｡’    ⸸𖠚⛤⚚    ‘｡⋆

The train pulled away before Arisu even fully registered that he'd stepped off.

Its doors slid shut behind with a soft mechanical sigh, and then it was moving again, gathering speed as it disappeared down the tracks; Arisu held a loose hand around his suitcase, swallowing as he glanced around the busy and bustling train station.

Transport. Motorways, tramlines. Arisu saw it all; people travelling to work. People travelling home. People who’d missed their trains, those waiting to start their journey.

Such movement feels… unnatural. 

Despite everything, everything Arisu’s heard and everything he will hear every moment after this, everything seems to move on too quickly, almost as if nothing had happened— barely giving Arisu a second to comprehend what has happened. 

For a moment, he simply stood there, motionless on the crowded platform. Distantly, Arisu was sure that he was probably blocking someone’s way, but the sound of shoes clicking against concrete, the conversations that drifted past in fragments, the wail of a baby and the laughter of the elderly drew him into almost some sort of trance, one that was only disturbed by the sound of his name breaking through the havoc. 

“Arisu!” A voice called out, and blinking himself out of his stupor, Arisu squinted his eyes, flickering his gaze across the people passing through the station, until his gaze eventually fell on the man who’d called his name. Karube stood on the tip of his toes, his hand raised upward in a shameless manner as he waved it about in an attempt to catch Arisu’s attention (which, he supposed actually worked), and standing right as his side as he always should have been was… Tatta?

Arisu doesn’t allow his confusion to triumph him, and instead, he tightens his grasp around the handle of his suitcase, muttering small ‘excuse me’s’ and ‘sorry’s’ as he shuffles through the crowd, his eyes locking onto the two as he pushed his way through the crowd. 

When he finally does reach them, Arisu glances between the two, the shock surrounding the fact that they’d chosen to come here together undoubtedly evidence on his face, though Arisu attempts to shake himself of the surprise as he glanced toward his left. “Hey Karube.” He said, and a moment later, a hand falling onto the back of his neck almost sheepishly, Arisu glanced over toward his right. “Hey.. Tatta.”

“Hi Arisu.” Tatta greeted, slightly awkward if the way he adjusted his cap was anything to go by.

He wasn’t really sure what to say— is there ever something appropriate when you’ve messed up so bad? How do you share your condolences for someone you all haven’t spoken to in a year because you were all too stubborn? “I’m sorry.” Arisu finds himself saying, the words falling from his lips before he could think otherwise. Arisu doesn’t regret it in the slightest.

“I’m sorry too.” Tatta murmured sadly, bowing his head slightly. “Like, since the games and everything, everyone’s felt like… they couldn’t die, like it wasn’t even possible anymore.”

It wasn’t Arisu’s first time grieving someone important. His mother was an amazing person, truly, and while Arisu believes that sometimes it’s hard for an individual to be truly fulfilled and self-actualised, his mother defied his expections— every expectation— again. 

But… that had been different. Despite how young Arisu had been and the way in which his concept of death hadn’t even developed yet, he knew that his mother was going to die eventually because he was gently exposed to what death could mean. Chishiya’s death was abrupt— no, not just abrupt; he was taken like a thief in the night, only it was day time and it wasn’t anyone other than Chishiya who stole his own livelihood for reasons they will never know why.

“I can’t believe it.” Arisu blinked a few times, reaching a hand upward to rest against his head as his eyes flickered between the two. “I just— it’s all my fault. I should’ve never made that stupid post.”

“Don’t… don’t say that man.” Karube paused for a moment, drawing his hand upward to rest against Karube’s shoulder. “It’s over now.”

“It’s not.” Arisu stressed, and despite the comfort that Karube’s hold provided, he shrugged his shoulder lightly, allowing Karube's hand to fall back by his side. “I just wish I spoke to Chishiya more… before this.” Arisu emphasises, gesturing around them. “Everyone would’ve been speaking if it wasn’t for that stupid post.”

Arisu likes to think that he didn’t have a lot of regrets.

But, without a doubt, that was one of them.

“And your department suspected suicide?” Chishiya quirked a brow, a smirk playing at his lips as he glanced back downward at the autopsy notes within Ann’s hands.

The woman walked beside him, a sort of smugness to her own countenance as they rounded the next hall of the hospital. “The scene has been displayed as such.” Ann noted, all before glancing downward. “The autopsy, however, proves that such was impossible.”

Despite the fact she knew Chishiya had no business walking alongside her (and presumably his own job to do), she entertained his presence. Chishiya suspected that their brief, practically daily walk from the autopsy room to the exit was appreciated anyhow. “Should excite things more, I hope.” He shrugged.

The woman cast him a sidelong glance. “Murders shouldn’t be exciting, Chishiya.”

“Says the forensic scientist.” Chishiya tucked his hands back into his doctor’s jacket, halting just as they rounded the last corner of the ward. Now, like always, they would share a quick, witty quip; it didn’t really matter what the other said, it never did, but it was a familiar routine the two had found themselves falling into, and one in which they engaged in once in a blue moon before they’d joined forces for the marks.

“Oh my God, it’s them!” A voice called out, one that had both Chishiya and Ann’s heads drawing away from one another and their routine, and instead, they both glanced toward the hospital’s reception. A pigtailed, grinning teenager and what appeared to be her friends stood huddled amongst one another, excitable in all the wrong ways as she threw a pointed finger in their direction. “Look!”

Chishiya keeps his countenance impressively blank as he meets the eye of a young girl, certainly no older than Heiya, who bounces on her heels upon spotting him— or them. “Do you know them?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing.” Ann’s eyes narrowed.

Seconds. It was a matter of seconds that the girls hurried over toward them in a flurry, bouncing with each step they took and holding the straps of their backpacks so tightly their fingertips grew white. “You’re Chishiya, right? Doctor Chishiya?” One of the girls asked, cocking her head to the side and adjusting her glasses when they fell further down her nose. “And Ann, the forensic scientist!”

“We’re fans! Honest, this is like the Scream franchise all over again.” The pigtailed girl blabbered, nodding her head enthusiastically. “There’s so many loopholes though, so many things that didn’t make sense in the case!”

“Please, tell us!” The other pulled her hands upward in a pleading motion, all before something seemed to register in her mind, and the next moment, she threw her backpack to the ground, ripping open the bag as she shuffled through it. “Oh, can you also sign my pencil case?”

Ann glanced downward at him, and for the first time in a while, Chishiya found himself not shocked, but completely and utterly confused. The recognition of Chishiya’s equal perplexity seemed to blossom across Ann’s face, as the next moment, she spoke. “Wh—“

“How did you all make it out alive?” The girl on the floor interrupted without glancing upward at them as she continued to shuffle through her bag. “We heard about the injuries!”

And, when Chishiya’s phone began to incessantly ping— well, it certainly wasn't a surprise as to why.

ROCK, PAPER, KUINA+ANN

( tacarrz ) : guyyyys… whats going on?

( 👑 ) : tattaaaa my mayn

( 👑 ) : wdym?? 👀

( tacarrz ) : i don’t KNOW

( imbetterthanyou ) : Why the everlasting fuck was I just told a conspiracy theory of the single handedly most traumatic event of my life

( Morizono Aguni ) : Whilst being asked for an autograph.

( imbetterthanyou ) : Whilst being asked for a fucking autograph 

( 👑 ) : what one??

( 👑 ) : there’s kind of a lot of traumatic events idk about you guys

( 👑 ) : WAIT IM SORRY WHAT?

( imbetterthanyou ) : @chishiya, @ar1zzu_, @Ann, @karubethebangmaster

( tacarrz ) : im not media trained idk what to do :(

( Morizono Aguni ) : Try not to engage right now. We don’t know how the public know anything or why.

( 👑 ) : I thought we was supposed to stay anonymous?? 

( 👑 ) : like LEGALLY

( 👑 ) : shit someone needs to let heiya knows before she’s ambushed

( Morizono Aguni ) : I’ll call now.

( imbetterthanyou ) : What the actual fuck

( imbetterthanyou ) : Go look at @ar1zzu_’s post

( 👑 ) : oh no I’m scared 

( karubethebangmaster ) : niragi man calm down we’re sorting it out

( imbetterthanyou ) : CALM DOWN??

( imbetterthanyou ) : ILL SHOW YOU CALM

( imbetterthanyou ) : ILL BE THERE IN 15 YOU DICK

( karubethebangmaster ) : fuck you dude we’re locking the doors now

Turns out, Niragi later discovered as he rounded the corner of Arisu’s house ten minutes later; both punctual and pissed; Karube had stayed true to his word and locked the doors. That didn’t deter Niragi in any type of way, and instead, he balled his hand into a fist, hammering it down onto Arisu’s front door all the while pressing the doorbell repetitively in the other.

“Open the fuck up!” Niragi hollered, punctuating each word of his sentence through a slam to the door. 

With the way in which Karube threw the doors open, he’s lucky he didn’t have a fist hammered into his head from the way Niragi had been banging on the door— and, upon second thought, maybe the dick deserved it. “Dude, I’m really gonna need you to calm down.” Karube hissed, holding one hand against the door and the other outward in a pathetic attempt to calm Niragi.

Niragi was never angry irrationally. There was always a reason, and there will always be a reason. He hasn’t been angry at this in a long time because no idiot has provided him with a reason to be. “You—“

Karube shook his head firmly, glancing backward momentarily. “Just let me explain before you go in there all— like this.”

He did not just cut him off. 

“He can explain, since he was the one who wanted to take things into his own hands.” Niragi spat back, bringing a hand upward to toss aside Karube’s (what the other thought it was) attempt at peacemaking. Instead, Niragi pushed the other aside, slipping past Karube with minimal struggle and advancing inward. “Arisu, where the fuck are you?” He called out— he hadn’t been to Arisu’s house often, Niragi could recall a handful of times, though he found himself bounding into the living room first, huffing in irritance when the other was nowhere to be found.

Where he does find Arisu, Niragi discovers as he rounds the next corner, is the kitchen. The other’s lip is caught between his teeth as he glances downward at his phone, one hand clutching the device desperately and the other braced against the island counter. Hastily, as if he’d heard Niragi bounding in (which wouldn’t be too much of a surprise), Arisu’s head shot upward, his expression laced in regret as his brows pulled upward. “Niragi, please—“ 

“Like this day wasn’t already going to be hard for us.” He took a few more steps further into the kitchen, ignoring the skidding of shoes indicating that Karube had followed him. Instead, Niragi jabs an accusing finger Arisu’s way. “Like the fucking anniversary of the Accident wasn’t going to be hard enough.”

“Quit it!” Karube shouted, his face twisting into a frown as he took a few steps forward, standing beside the counter and slotting himself somewhere in between the two. Niragi took it upon himself to occupy the side of the island opposite to Arisu. “What he did was a nice thing.”

Niragi huffed in disbelief, his lips twisting into a snarl as his head snapped over toward Karube. “A nice thing? The people he did it for are dead you dimwit. For a fucking reason.”

“Niragi I didn’t know people would find anything out!” Arisu genuinely admitted— at least Niragi thought it was genuine, though that didn’t change much— as he allowed his phone to drop into the island before him. Instead, one of Arisu’s hands fell to his hip, the other bracing itself against his head as he worriedly continued. “If I’d have known, I wouldn’t have posted anything.” 

The sound of pattering footsteps somewhere else in the house caught Niragi’s attention before a fiery quip could be formed, though the sound of Kuina’s voice as she appeared in the doorway, her phone in hand and her face plagued with confusion, had Niragi scoffing, turning away from her and pinching the space between his brows. It wasn’t personal, it really fucking wasn’t, but another peacemaker in a situation where there should be no peace was pretty fucking annoying. “You idiots left the front door open.” She called out to them as she took a step forward, her brows knitting together slightly as she noted the tension within the room. “What the hell is going on?” Kuina inquired, lifting the hand with her phone upward and jostling the device.

Niragi swiftly swivelled on his heel to face her, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “Arisu wanted to be all self-righteous and post a tribute to the survivors of the Accident of 2019.”

The girl’s eyes widened immediately, her mouth falling open slightly as she lowered her hand. “You mean—“ 

“The same assholes who tried to brutally murder us?” Niragi interrupted— though he supposed it’s what Kuina had intended to say anyway, perhaps just not as crudely. “Yeah. Them.”

“Ouh…” Kuina winced, looking over toward him with hurt in her eyes as she tilted her head to the side. “Arisu…”

With a shaky exhale, Arisu held a hand out before himself. “Kuina, just let me explain.”

“Why didn’t you come and ask any of us if it would be okay?” Kuina asked, a sort of helplessness about her as she took a step forwards, her head falling to the side in a mixture of confusion and betrayal. “We aren’t just individual people anymore. Everything we do affects any other person.”

“He’s a grown damn man, and he can’t make decisions for himself?” Karube shot his hand out, gesturing toward Arisu with a frown adorned on his face.

Won’t he just shut the fuck up? If Niragi remembered correctly, Karube wasn’t even directly involved. With anything. “You’re saying he’s a grown man and you won’t let him fucking talk for himself!”

“Karube, don’t even do that man,” Kuina’s face dropped, her previously rational tone of voice falling slightly lower as she fixed him with a look. “you know I didn’t say that.” 

“Fuck off, Kuina.” Karube rolled his eyes, barely casting her a glance as his gaze remained glued on Niragi. 

“What the hell?” Kuina blurted, blinking a few times as her jaw clenched. The next moment, she took a few more steps toward them, her expression hardened as she looked at Karube “Look, we all decided to stay anonymous together for the quality of all of our lives. We aren’t anonymous anymore!”

“Chishiya and Ann were telling me schoolgirls were bombarding them at the hospital.” Niragi continued after Kuina. Nice to have someone seeing some reason here. “Tatta’s saying he can’t work in peace anymore— like, do you see what the fuck you’ve done?”

“They were people just as much as we were!” The words tore itself from Arisu’s throat before he could consider if they were appropriate, leaving him slightly breathless as he glanced between them, all before he went to continue. “I don’t know, they never asked to be in this mess, I just wanted to acknowledge that they struggled too.”

For someone so intelligent, Arisu is so fucking dim. Yes, they were people, people that terrorised them, people that had them fretting over, not only their lives, but everyone else’s. Arisu acts like he doesn’t understand how painful going to bed each night was, the fear of waking up and discovering one of them was dead and never coming back looming over their heads. Fuck, he should understand all the more considering the fact the he was marked too. 

“Arisu, we struggled too, you know?” Kuina looked at him in disbelief, her frown unwavering.

The next moment, Karube sighed, wiping a hand down his face. “Look, he’s trying to find a way to take it down.”

“I don’t know why you’re speaking for him like he’s incapable of speaking for himself.” Niragi turned abruptly to face Karube. “Clearly he was capable of making that post himself.” 

And fuck, Karube had the audacity to look exhausted. Like he wasn’t the one who was instigating this. “Jump off his dick, man.” He shook his head in annoyance.

“Who the fuck are you—“ The words were falling from Niragi’s mouth as swiftly as he was barrelling over to Karube, closing the gap between them in a matter of seconds as his chest heaved, his hands trembling violently as, with one, he reached upward, fisting the fabric of his Hawaiian shirt, and the other leaning backward, his hand balling into a fist with intent.

“Woah! Hey!” Kuina frantically hollered, her feet barely scraping the floor with the speed in which she’d bounded over to them, her hands latching onto the arm in which Niragi had pulled backward in intent.“Stop!”

Kuina’s strong. Niragi gets that. Kuina would not use her full strength on her friends. Niragi is angry. “Let fucking go—“ He hissed, attempting to pull his arm from the girl’s grasp, all the while keeping Karube firmly in this position— but stubbornly, Kuina latched her hands around him, and it was to nobody’s fault but her fucking own when, as he tore his hand from her grasp—

Thwack.

There’s silence within the room for a second, and despite his previous intentions, Niragi slowly releases Karube’s shirt, allowing the other to drop his full weight onto the floor and take a step backward as they all silently stare at Kuina. Kuina, who stood dumbfoundedly in the middle of the kitchen, her hand gently falling to her reddened cheek. “What the fuck?” She said slowly, her words barely audible as she slowly turned to Niragi. 

Is she— is she seriously mad at him for something she could’ve prevented had she listened to him? “I told you to let go.” Niragi spat, narrowing his eyes at her.

The screeching of tires outside briefly caught Niragi’s attention, and the idea of a ‘fan’ finding them actually crossed his mind for a second. Mark Niragi’s words (ha), they’d have another thing coming if any of them stepped a foot inside this house.

“Didn’t mean you had to hit me for trying to help.” She said numbly, nodding her head as she took a few steps backward and toward the exit. “I don’t want people emotionally involved in my life after we worked so hard to keep it.”

With that, the girl swivelled on her heel, muttering something inaudible to herself as she turned to make her leave, her gaze pinned to the floor and shoulders practically up to her ears in what Niragi presumed was her fury. As she took her leave, it’s Tatta who hurried into the room, his eyes latching onto the unresponsive Kuina before he even comprehended the scene before him. “Kuina! Wait!” Tatta called out to her, reaching a hand outward in direction, though only flinching slightly when the harsh slam of the front door echoed through the house. Blinking in confusion a few times, and perhaps hurt, Tatta whipped around to face him, his face dampened with fear. “What… what’s happening?”

“See?” Niragi huffed, jabbing a finger in Tatta’s direction. “That could’ve easily have been some stalker, or something. You know how hard it is to do your job as a hacker when everyone fucking knows who you are and what you do?” Because, yes— it wasn’t just everyone else who’d gotten their lives together. Niragi finally had something good for himself that could be ruined because of Arisu’s fuckery.

“Chill the fuck out.” Karube, despite the fact that Niragi was about to fucking deck him not even five minutes ago, took a step forward toward him.

“How about you get the hell away from me?” Niragi snapped back

“Karube, stop.” Tatta pleaded meekly, his hand falling to his chin as his eyes flickered between the two.

“Tatta— you?” Karube blinked in shock, his mouth hanging open as he gestured toward Niragi. “Seriously? Are you not seeing how he’s acting?”

“It was an accident.” Arisu emphasised from the other side of the counter. He better stay there.

“It being an accident doesn’t mean it didn't have any consequences.”

“You’re not the only person who it backfired on.” Arisu shot back, finally gaining some sort of independence. Niragi’s not sure if he should applaud him or deck him for his audacity. He’s leaning toward the latter. “My job centres around the public too!”

“And you were the one who chose to post it.” Niragi redirected the blame, because where it should’ve been all along was with Arisu. “How the hell are you gonna think it’ll look when the game ideas you made could link to their infamous deaths?”

“Give him a break.” Karube said through gritted teeth.

“Thanks to him, none of us are gonna know what a break is.” Niragi took a step backward, throwing his arms out wildly either side of him. “You know what? Sort it out yourself, since you’re the one with all the big and bright ideas.”

Niragi has never been so fast to leave a place and know he won’t return. 

Arisu bowed his head in— what? Regret? Remorse? Embarrassment that, even now, despite what he’d seen happened and the destruction of his friend group, he doesn’t regret the tribute as much as he should? “I should’ve just asked everyone about it first. I genuinely thought it was gonna be okay, you know?” And that wasn’t a lie. Arisu’s ordeal with the marks was knowing; he always knew what was coming, the good the bad, the hard and the ugly, but for a reason unbeknownst to him he was never able to predict this. “I’m sorry guys.”

“It’s okay Arisu.” Tatta looked over at him, his eyes slightly red rimmed.

“It’s not. I missed you all so much.” Arisu shook his head firmly. It was the first thing he’d been sure about in a long time. A grin blossomed across Tatta’s face at his words, slightly wobbly and Karube’s face grief-stricken, and alas, Arisu sighed. “I know… what happened, but,” He paused, his eyes flickering between the two. “what exactly happened?”

⋆｡’    ⸸𖠚⛤⚚    ‘｡⋆

Niragi doesn’t return home that night. 

He’s not allowed to, not when the forensic team is scouring the house, searching for anything suggesting third party involvement or to confirm that Chishiya, in his last moments, had acted just as independently as he committed himself to being throughout his lifetime. Bitterly, he hopes that Ann ends up finding something there that suggests foul play.

So instead, while Niragi was given the option of residency at many other establishments, he ends up in the familiar atmosphere of Aguni’s kitchen, watching as the man places a bowl of food before him. He wasn’t quite hungry, and maybe Aguni wouldn’t even blame him for not wanting to eat; he hadn’t when Niragi had temporarily moved in when he’d been homeless, though what he had done was fixed Niragi with an indecipherable look.

Picking up the chopsticks felt difficult enough. The meal wasn’t bad by any means, Aguni’s food never was, but—

“It’s not salty enough.”

Wordlessly, though carefully, Aguni passed him the salt.

“Chishiya— fuck.” Niragi cursed as his voice cracked. “It was like he was obsessed with it, or something. Unintentionally too.” He squinted, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. “I always used to hate the blatant salt in my meals, it’s why I told him to start cooking and why I started instead.”

Niragi would give anything to have Chishiya cook for him again.

“That idiot.”  Niragi muttered with a quiet bitterness, and despite himself, he couldn’t help the way the tears slowly began to slide down his cheeks. They felt almost trivial in comparison to this day; Niragi’s future, his breath hitching in his throat as he stared downward at the meal.  

The sound that followed was small and strangled, barely audible. He pressed a hand over his mouth, but it did nothing to stop the sob that broke through. His eyes squeezed shut, his head bowing as his composure finally gave way.

Sobs ripped through Niragi in sharp, desperate bursts, leaving him gasping for air between them as he slightly curled inward, his whole body shook with the force of it. Each attempt to regain a semblance of autonomy only seemed to make it worse, an overwhelming sense of grief surging back before he'd managed a full breath, and breaking through the next. He doesn’t really see the way Aguni takes a stand, curling around the table, and before Niragi knows it, Aguni’s kneeling on the floor before him, meeting Niragi’s eye remorsefully to envelope him into an embrace.

And, Niragi doesn’t express his emotions with a healthy outlet, but he seriously loved that man. There was no doubt about it, and there never will be a doubt about it, not for the rest of his damned life without him, because Niragi genuinely loved Chishiya. He loved Chishiya with his whole heart since they’d started fighting for their lives together, and loved him with his entire being every moment after.

Chishiya wouldn’t have killed himself— there’s no way he would’ve, not after everything they’d fought for. He isn’t that spontaneous. He wouldn’t have left Niragi with more questions than answers because he knew how much Niragi loved him, and love Niragi he did too. 

Aguni holds a hand to the back of Niragi’s head, holding him gently against his shoulder. “You won’t believe me. You won’t believe anything I say right now.” Aguni starts, muttering into Niragi’s ear as calmly as he could manage to be. “You’re going to be okay; it won’t feel like this forever. Chishiya—“ Aguni pauses, sounding slightly choked up himself. “Chishiya is one of the strongest people I’ll ever know. You’re the only person who could support him in becoming such a person. But you don’t have to be strong right now.” With that, Aguni pulled away, meeting Niragi’s eye as if to convey the seriousness behind his words. “And don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“He didn’t do it, Aguni.” Niragi screwed his face into a frown, wiping a hand down his cheek to rid himself of what was left of his waterworks as he shook his head slowly. “I know it. He couldn’t have.”

Niragi’s head was coaxed to Aguni’s shoulder again. “It’s okay, Niragi.”