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Chapter Text

“Difficulty: Six of Clubs. Game: Piñata.”

The colorful image of a donkey-shaped piñata appeared on the large screen. Niragi shifted his weight, watching with mild disinterest as the disembodied voice explained the game his group was going to play. The weight of the Colt M4 resting against his shoulder was familiarly reassuring.

“Fun,” Kuina deadpanned next to him.

“Rules: Each round, choose between three options to hit the piñata and earn points. The categories are: physical, blades and other. Each option is worth an amount of points between one and ten.”

Next to the piñata, three simple depictions of a fist, a knife and a question mark flickered to life, each with a random number next to them. After a short moment, the knife and the number two beside it flashed a bright green, indicating that they had been picked.

“Both the options and associated points vary between players and reset with each new round.”

The categories appeared on the other side of the piñata as well, this time with different numbers. One of them turned green and granted three points to the fictional second player, before the numbers changed again.

“When at least three players have the same amount of points at the same time, you clear the game.”

A third exemplary player appeared, seven points to their name. The remaining two chose the options with the numbers five and four respectively, landing both of them at seven points as well. The screen played a tacky animation of confetti and a congratulatory jingle.

“The fuck is this shit?” Niragi scoffed. “I thought this was a Six.”

Chishiya kept his contemplative gaze fixed on the display. “Hm. There’s probably more to it.”

“Failure to carry out attacks as described will result in the elimination of the player in question. Furthermore, if the piñata dies before the win condition is met, the game will be over for all players.”

There it was. Of course that know-all asshole had to have been right.

“Dies?” Arisu echoed, eyes wide.

“Each player may choose to skip a single attack. In that case, the player in question will have to inflict a different attack upon themselves. You have one minute to decide which player will act as the piñata. Please vote using the phones you have been provided.”

Chishiya hummed. “Now it sounds more like a Six, doesn’t it?”

A player. They were going to beat up a player. Niragi would have loved the idea, he would have laughed his damn ass off, if it wasn’t for that cold, nagging fear, suddenly settling into his stomach. He stole a quick glance at everyone present. Chishiya, Kuina, Arisu, Usagi. He was fucked.

“They want us to pick someone to torture…” Disbelief was painted all over Usagi’s face.

“How can we vote on something like that?” Arisu asked, voice thick with a strange mix of desperation and disgust.

Kuina groaned. “Shouldn’t this be a Hearts game?”

“Not necessarily,” Chishiya disagreed, an intrigued smile on his lips. “We have to find a strategy concerning the numbers and unless everyone works together, all players die. Only one person gets to make a mistake, otherwise we won’t have enough players to win anymore. Whoever ends up taking the role of the piñata has to be able to endure it and the other players must be willing to harm them. There’s a lot of different elements to this… A true Clubs game, no?”

On both the screen and their phones, a photo of each of them appeared. Niragi caught Usagi staring at him from the corner of his eye. Kuina and Arisu exchanged a disturbed look. Chishiya let his curious, sharp gaze wander over all of them, but Niragi didn’t miss that it lingered on him for just a split second longer.

The choice was already made. It was him. There was no way they were going to pick anyone else. They were just too chickenshit to admit it outright, but he was certain that it had been the first thought to cross all their minds. Hell, they were probably relieved that they would be able to stay completely out of harm’s way themselves. And even if Arisu tried to pull some hero shit, there was no way in hell the others were going to let him do it.

So there was a downside to being hated, after all.

“Forty seconds remaining,” the announcement declared.

“Shall we discuss our options, then?” Chishiya asked, hands in his pockets, completely unfazed.

Niragi gnawed on the inside of his cheek, struggling to make up his mind. All he ever wanted was to have a choice. Freedom to do as he pleased. Independence, absolute power over his own life. He needed to be in charge, to be feared. And now, someone was trying to take that from him, to dictate his outcome. To force him right back into the role of his pathetic old self, long before the Borderlands. Only this time, he wasn’t going to allow it. Not here, not when he had fought so hard for his place at the top. Nobody else was going to decide over his fate.

“No need,” Niragi laughed, lowering his rifle from his shoulder before he entered his choice on the phone. On the screen, a tally mark appeared next to his own face. “I volunteer.”

There was a beat of stunned silence and then, almost in unison, everyone turned to stare at him. It was hilarious, the way Arisu’s jaw slightly dropped, the way Usagi narrowed her eyes, the way Kuina furrowed her brow. The only one who didn’t look surprised in the slightest was Chishiya, his knowing smile ever-present, as if he’d already figured out it was going to turn out this way before they had even entered the empty warehouse. Niragi fought the overwhelming urge to acquaint that stupid, smug face with his fist. Instead, he carelessly tossed his rifle to the ground with an exaggerated movement, a condescending grin on his lips. The way Arisu flinched at the sound was delicious.

“What?” Niragi sneered. “You were gonna pick me anyway, right?” He laughed, a twisted, deranged sound, even to his own ears. “Stop pretending like you give a shit. Fuck, you all really piss me off, acting like you’re such good people.”

He slowly walked over to Chishiya until they were mere inches apart. The shorter man didn’t back away, simply lifted his chin a little to return his stare, the neutral look on his face unchanged.

“You’d all love to see me suffer, right? For you, this is the best thing that could have happened today.” Niragi abruptly turned to face the group again. “You should at least have the guts to fucking admit that!”

“Twenty seconds remaining,” the voice announced.

“Time’s running out,” he laughed, waving his phone in the air. “Better make your choice.”

Usagi was the first to vote. Chishiya followed, his distant expression unreadable. Kuina joined only a second later. Arisu, on the other hand, stared at him for a long moment, a strange look on his face.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked. Pretentious bastard.

Niragi glared at him, disgusted that even now, he was still keeping up his stupid act of heroism. “The fuck does it look like, idiot?”

“Five seconds remaining.”

Arisu didn’t reply. It was deadly quiet. Then, a fifth mark appeared next to Niragi’s photo on the screen. The timer stopped at two seconds. A pixelated depiction of a piñata appeared in the corner of his image.

“The piñata is: Niragi Suguru. Please step into the marked area to start the game.”

In the middle of the room, framed on two opposing sides by four rectangular steel blocks with a chair each, the outline of a square on the concrete floor began to glow a cold blue. Niragi’s grin widened as he made his way over to his designated spot with calculatedly carefree steps. The frantic beating of his heart, hammering in his throat, remained hidden beneath his cocky demeanor. The way everyone’s stares burned into his skin was exhilarating. He was at the center of their attention, hated, despised, feared. Just how it was supposed to be. But they sure as hell didn’t deserve to be the ones in control of his fate. This had been his own choice. Not theirs. He had sworn to himself years ago that nobody was ever going to have that kind of power over him again.

“We’re going to win this all thanks to me,” he declared. “You better fucking remember that.”

The line flashed a bright red as he crossed it.

“Players, please be seated,” the voice requested.

Except for Chishiya, everyone lingered for a moment, exchanging uncertain glances before they picked a spot and sat down.

“It’s not going to be easy to coordinate our points with four players,” Chishiya mused. “Since the numbers are randomized…”

“We can’t even plan ahead,” Kuina sighed.

Arms casually crossed, Niragi watched as they discussed their worries and ideas, deliberately looking everywhere except at him. So they even had the audacity to feel bad. Or maybe they just didn’t care. That would be the less hypocritical option, at least.

“We should start with low numbers,” Arisu suggested.

Chishiya leaned back in his chair, giving thought to the idea. “It might be easier to adjust that way, for now.” He gave a small nod. “Let’s try it.”

Before anyone could voice another opinion, the announcement “Game start” echoed through the empty warehouse. The sound sent a shiver down Niragi’s spine and he pointedly stood a little taller, adjusting his smile to look utterly unimpressed. On the display, his photo had been moved into the corner, leaving those of Chishiya, Kuina, Usagi and Arisu in a row, each with a large zero below them.

“Player one.”

Chishiya looked down at the tablet embedded into the steel table in front of him. His decision was made quickly, his expression aloof as he tapped the icon of his weapon of choice.

“Blades,” the voice supplied helpfully, just in time with a mechanical whir as the table opened up to reveal a simple combat knife.

“Place a cut on the piñata on a body part of your choice,” Chishiya read the instructions out loud. “It must be deep enough to draw blood.”

Relief flooded through Niragi’s veins. He had his fair share of experience with slash wounds. Depending on the placement, the pain could be pretty insignificant. A little less tense, he watched with a calculatedly bored expression as Chishiya picked up the weapon and joined him in the center of the room.

“Roll up your sleeve,” he instructed calmly, spinning the knife in his hand so that he was holding it almost like scalpel.

“The fuck are you ordering me around for?” Niragi scoffed.

Chishiya didn’t reply, instead raising his brows in a questioning look. With an annoyed huff, Niragi did as he was told and offered his now bare forearm, palm facing down. Chishiya’s fingers closed around his wrist to keep him from moving. His hands were warm. Probably because he kept them in his pockets all the time. Without comment, he pressed the knife into Niragi’s skin. A prickling burning followed the thin trail of blood that the blade left behind. If anything, the pain was pleasant. A second, maybe two, then he was done.

“Attack complete,” the announcement confirmed happily.

“Hah.” Niragi wiped his palm over the wound, leaving behind a smear of deep red. “This is gonna be an easy fucking win, huh?”

As Chishiya returned to his seat, the zero below his portrait was replaced by a two.

“Player two,” came the disembodied order.

Kuina glanced up at him for a split second, but quickly looked back at her tablet when he returned her gaze with a challenging intensity. She picked a category and hesitantly walked up to him.

“I thought you’d be more excited to beat me up,” Niragi scoffed.

She shrugged, arms crossed, an unenthused look on her face. “It’s no fun like this. This is just sad.”

Niragi raised his brows. “Don’t tell me you’re feeling bad for me? And here I thought you didn’t like me.”

That got her going. “Not in a million years,” Kuina huffed with a roll of her eyes, pushing one foot back and raising her arms to assume a fighting stance.

Before Niragi was able to say another word, her foot slammed into his chest. He stumbled backwards, gasping as the air was knocked from his lungs from the heavy impact. Dull pain pulsed through his ribcage.

“So you are enjoying this,” he wheezed with a grin.

Kuina had already turned her back on him again. “I might have changed my mind,” she said coldly. “You deserved that one.”

He supposed he couldn’t argue with that. A single point was added to Kuina’s counter.

“Attack complete. Player three.”

The look on Usagi’s face was burning holes into his skull. She stared at him for far too long before she turned her attention to the task. And Niragi had to admit, she had every right to look at him like that. Their little stunt at the Beach probably hadn’t left the best first impression. Not that he had wanted to. The threat to break Arisu’s legs had been one thing and part of him was still annoyed that they hadn’t been able to go through with it thanks to Hatter’s interruption. It would have been quite funny. But acting as if Aguni was going to have his way with Usagi had admittedly been a bit much. At least Niragi had been pretty damn sure that his boss wouldn’t actually have done anything. He didn’t seem the type to be interested in such things. It had been a play, a show put on to scare the newcomers into submission and remind the other members at the Beach of their place. A disgusting one, nonetheless, that much he had to acknowledge. There were certain lines even he didn’t want to cross.

Niragi watched as Usagi’s finger hovered over one of the three images. She hesitated. Then, at the last second, she seemed to change her mind, selecting a different one with slightly too much force.

“Physical.”

She abruptly stood up, practically storming towards him. Niragi barely had time to prepare before her fist crashed into his face. Blinding pain exploded in his skull and for a moment, the world turned white. The taste of iron gathered in his mouth. Something wet and warm began to stream from his nose. Blood, if he had to take a wild guess. He blinked the colors back into his vision just in time to see Usagi lunge out again. Niragi quickly spun to the side, narrowly dodging the second punch.

“Having fun?” he sneered. “Don’t worry, I’m sure there’s gonna be plenty of time for you to enjoy yourself.”

She stared at him with wild eyes, already preparing for another strike.

“Attack complete.”

“Usagi!”

She stopped at the sound of Arisu’s voice. Her gaze visibly cleared. Slowly, she lowered her fist and gave up the boxing stance she had assumed. Niragi wiped his aching nose with his sleeve and spat out the blood that had gathered in his mouth. She gave him one last, contemptuous look and returned to her table without a single word. The number seven appeared below her image.

“Oh?” Chishiya made, more intrigued than anything.

“Usagi…” Arisu repeated quietly.

She lifted her gaze to look at her friend – or boyfriend, probably, with the way they were glued to each other at all times. Her expression softened into something apologetic. As if Arisu was the one she had just condemned to more rounds of pain. God, he hated these people.

“Player four.”

The man in question stared at his tablet with wide eyes for a good few seconds before making a decision.

“Other: baseball bat.”

Ah, fuck. Niragi couldn’t help but breathe out a laugh as Arisu hesitantly picked up the weapon the steel table spat out for him. Now this was a familiar scene, alright. He despised the way his heartbeat doubled at the mere sight of the stupid piece of wood. The phantom stench of trash and exhaust fumes stung in his nose.

“… must break at least one rib,” Arisu read out part of the instructions, his face gaining an impressive resemblance to his white shirt. “Multiple attempts allowed.”

He almost looked like he was going to be sick and Niragi would have found it pretty damn hilarious, if he hadn’t been so unnecessarily terrified.

“Put some muscle into it, then,” he scoffed, desperately trying to keep up the act that this was all, quite literally, just a stupid little game to him. “I’m not interested in dragging this out, got it?”

Arisu nodded, gripping his weapon tighter as he entered the square. He slowly raised it, brows furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line, and every muscle in Niragi’s body was screaming at him to run.

“You should aim lower.” Chishiya would have sounded mildly amused, if it wasn’t for the weird, uncharacteristic gravity to his voice. “Unless you want to pierce a lung with the broken rib.”

Arisu cursed, readjusting his grip on the bat, but made no move to actually swing it. Niragi ground his teeth, the anticipation burning in his throat.

“Get on with it, pussy,” he spat.

There was a visible shift in Arisu’s body language. He was clutching the handle so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Then, with a short scream, he swung. Pain burst through Niragi’s side. He doubled over, gasping in a strained breath as a dull pulsing spread in his ribcage. But there was no crack, no sharpness to the pain, no telltale rush of heat.

“Do it again,” he squeezed out.

An utterly horrified “hah?” left Arisu’s mouth.

“You didn’t break a fucking bone, you wimp,” Niragi hissed.

Jaw clenched tight, he straightened up again, staring down at the slightly shorter man. Arisu didn’t meet his eyes.

“Okay,” he breathed.

A few seconds passed as he readied himself. He didn’t scream this time, his face contorted into a horrible, silent determination. The impact was so heavy that it sent Niragi stumbling to the side, the hot, stinging agony instant. He just barely kept himself from crying out in pain, stubbornly biting back the anguish that wanted to tear itself from his throat. Hunched over, one hand gripping his aching side, he waited for the breath to return to his lungs.

“Attack complete,” the voice announced.

It was quiet for a few moments. The blood that was still running from his nose dripped onto the concrete floor. And as Niragi slowly unbent his back for the third time today, it dawned on him just how ridiculous this situation really was. The quiet, manic laughter that began to shake his body burned horribly against his broken ribs. Somewhere at the back of his consciousness, the start of the second round was announced. He gathered himself, wiping a tear of laughter from his eye, a crazed smile still tugging at his lips.

“Oi, Chishiya,” he snickered. “Pick something good.”

Chishiya raised his brows in a wordless question. “Let’s see,” he said calmly. “The current points are… two for myself, one for Kuina, seven for Usagi and three for Arisu.” He turned to look at the others. “To maximize our chances, the three of us should try to catch up to Usagi then, no?”

Niragi rolled his eyes, still clutching his side. “Stop acting smart and pick something.”

Chishiya completely ignored him. “Since Usagi will earn at least one additional point before Arisu’s turn, we’ll have to move up to eight, at least. In that case…”

He considered the options for another moment, then finally made his choice. “Other: fire,” he said in time with the announcement.

“Fun,” Niragi grinned.

The scraping of metal against metal made him cringe as the table opened up to produce a small, black lighter. Without a second of hesitation, Chishiya picked it up and closed the distance between them. Niragi was already beginning to roll up his sleeve, but Chishiya shook his head.

“It has to be on your torso,” he informed him matter-of-factly. “Fifteen seconds. I suggest you take off your shirt.”

Niragi huffed out a bewildered laugh. “Fuck you,” he said, even though it technically wasn’t Chishiya’s fault.

Annoyed, he unbuttoned his black and white giraffe print shirt and shrugged it off. The left side of his ribcage was angrily red and swollen, a bruise already forming from Arisu’s attack. Chishiya flicked on the lighter, the flame dancing menacingly in the air.

“Where do you want it?” he asked.

Niragi shrugged, making it a point to roll his eyes at such an unnecessary question. He sure as hell wasn’t going to show any sort of weakness or fear. He’d been through way worse.

“I don’t give a shit, dumbass. Stop stalling.”

Chishiya let his eyes wander over his skin. “Alright,” he said calmly. “Your chest, then. More muscle tissue. Hurts less, too.”

“Why do you know this crap?” Niragi snorted, licking some of the blood from his lips.

Chishiya shrugged, leaving his question unanswered. Instead, he moved the flickering flame right up to Niragi’s skin, the fire hot enough that he could feel it against his neck and chin. Any remaining curiosity was instantly erased, the searing pain taking over his entire consciousness in the fraction of a second. Chishiya began to count down from fifteen. The fire hungrily ate through his flesh with sharp teeth, a horrible burning spreading across his skin. His jaw was clenched so tightly that it hurt. A pained groan tore its way from his throat. Somewhere around the eight second mark, tears began to blur his vision. He pressed his eyes shut, refusing to let anyone catch a glimpse of them. The horrendous smell of seared flesh stung in his nose.

“Four.”

Niragi tensed every muscle in his body, forcing himself to stay in place and struggling not to scream.

“Three.”

A strangled whimper left his lips.

“Two.”

The burning was so unbearable, there had to be a gaping hole in his chest by now.

“One.”

Had Chishiya’s voice just faltered?

“Zero.”

Niragi backed away instantly, unable to bite back a curse as the flame was finally snuffed out. But the heat remained, continuing to send spikes of pain through his chest as if it had become a permanent part of his flesh.

“Attack complete.”

He shook his head and blinked away those stupid tears. His skin felt sickly with sweat. Meanwhile, Chishiya was already moving back towards his table, hands in his pockets as always.

Niragi resisted the instinct to press a hand against his horribly burning wound as he watched Kuina hesitate to make her choice. The pitying look she gave him crawled its way under his skin, anger clawing at his insides. No one, absolutely no one, was allowed to look at him that way.

“The fuck are you staring at?” he spat.

She pressed her lips into a thin line, something that wasn’t quite frustration crossing over her face. Finally, she made her choice. Blades, again. Thank fuck. But as Kuina read the instructions, she grimaced.

“This sucks,” she breathed.

“What do you need to do?” Usagi asked carefully.

Kuina shook her head and something about the look in her eyes made Niragi’s blood run cold. She hesitantly closed her fingers around the handle of the small push dagger she had been provided.

“Stab the piñata in their torso,” she read out loud. “The weapon must not be removed afterwards.”

Niragi chuckled. “This keeps getting better.”

Kuina gave him a disturbed look. Slowly, she got up and walked until she stood right before him. Her movements were even more hesitant this time. She turned, throwing an imploring gaze Chishiya’s way.

He seemed to give her unasked question some thought. “Technically there isn’t really a safe place to get stabbed,” he explained, “and without anatomical knowledge, you should avoid areas where you might hit an artery or cause permanent damage.” He hummed, a contemplative look on his face, more suited to considering what to eat for dinner than where to stab someone. “Since the blade is short… I would suggest the lower abdomen. Somewhere to the side to avoid the intestines.”

Kuina nodded. “Sorry about-”

“Don’t,” Niragi interrupted her harshly. “I don’t remember asking for your fucking pity.”

She let out a joyless laugh. “You just don’t change, huh? Well. Brace yourself, I guess.”

And with that, she drove the blade into his flesh. He could feel his insides tear apart, a sharp pain shooting through the muscles she’d hit. But it wasn’t nearly as bad as the fire. Kuina let go of the dagger, her fingertips slick with his blood. Niragi drew in a shaky breath, grinning at her as she left.

The game moved on. He was beaten and cut again, the rules getting more specific, but not deviating too significantly. The uppercut Usagi had to deliver had him spitting out more blood. Arisu’s hand was shaking ever so slightly when he had to drag a knife all the way across his torso and he even had the gall to mumble an apology. Niragi felt disgusted at the hypocrisy of it all.

Round two ended with Chishiya at eight points, Kuina at nine and Usagi and Arisu at ten. And despite his various injuries and the goddamn dagger buried in his abdomen, Niragi was beginning to think that maybe, this whole ordeal wasn’t going to be so tough to get through, after all. He wasn’t a stranger to pain and most of the attacks were things he’d experienced before, some more often than he could count. His fear was slowly subsiding. He was in control, he had chosen this of his own free will and everyone else was simply indebted to him for it. This was different from the beatings he’d had to endure back then in the real world. Here, he was the most important person in the room, the one keeping his team alive simply by existing. He was proving once again that he had more power, that everyone else was at his mercy.

This was actually starting to get fun.

Chapter Text

“Player one.”

Niragi watched Chishiya with a condescending grin. He rambled something about how maybe either him or Kuina could land on ten to finish the game and that otherwise, they shouldn’t pick too large or small a number at this point to maximize the possible choices down the road.

“Physical,” the voice finally announced his pick.

Chishiya skimmed over the instructions, expression unreadable. He was quiet for a few moments.

“I’ll skip my turn,” he finally said.

Niragi felt his grin slip. “Hah?” he made.

“I’m supposed to gouge out your eye.” Chishiya shrugged, calm as ever. “I’d prefer not to do that.”

He blinked, completely dumbfounded. “…why?”

Chishiya, who didn’t really give a damn about anyone. Chishiya, who did everything with effortless calculation. Chishiya, who treated everything like a game, unfazed by even the worst of deaths. Chishiya, who hated him.

“I’d like to keep my hands clean, if possible,” he smiled.

What a stupid fucking excuse.

“Are you fucking-”

“Player one has skipped their turn,” the announcement interrupted him. “The piñata may now choose between the two punishment options provided. The associated points will be rewarded to player one.”

Niragi clicked his tongue, annoyed. “I have to choose?”

He should be overjoyed at an opportunity like this. Chishiya constantly pissed him off with everything he did. He was such a horrible person to be around, acting so infuriatingly superior all the time. It made him feel uneasy just to be in the same room as him. And here was the perfect opportunity to get back at him. So why the hell was his throat so tight?

“Physical,” the voice began to read out the options. “The player must break a bone of their choice. Reward: four points.”

“This is messed up,” Usagi muttered.

“Blades: The player must cut off a limb of their choice. Reward: two points.”

“What the fuck?” Kuina blurted out.

Chishiya let out an amused huff. “So the stakes keep rising. Interesting.”

Two points. Two points would move Chishiya up to ten. The second option would end the game. Niragi felt sick and he didn’t understand why because really, he should be laughing. This was hilarious, right? He had the chance to completely ruin Chishiya’s life and save himself in the process. What an incredibly wonderful opportunity. How beautifully twisted. And yet, for the first time in his life, he found himself wishing he wasn’t the one in control. Maybe Kuina had been right. It just wasn’t any fun like this.

Unable to keep up his facade of amusement, he turned to stare at the man at his mercy. Chishiya returned his gaze and he had the audacity to look bored. Like this didn’t concern him at all.

“I guess the choice should be obvious,” he smiled.

It should be. It wasn’t.

Niragi looked at the options described on the screen again, acutely aware of the way everyone was staring at him. Kuina looked about ready to jump up from her seat to rush to Chishiya’s aid once he was bleeding. Arisu seemed appalled, tightly gripping the edges of his table in something that wasn’t quite rage and not quite desperation. Usagi looked like she wanted to personally cut his throat, as if he’d already picked the second option.

Niragi took a deep breath.

“Option one. Breaking a bone or whatever.”

He felt disgusted with himself. A deafening silence filled the warehouse. The weight of his decision was lead in his lungs. It could have been over. What the fuck was he doing?

“Oh?” Chishiya hummed and Niragi couldn’t remember ever having seen him this genuinely surprised.

“You’re not a total asshole, after all,” Kuina said.

She was wrong. He was nothing but human trash, the worst of the worst. Someone who was never going to change. A twisted, fucked-up, appalling thing, worthy only of hate and fear. That was how he wanted it.

“Don’t get the wrong idea,” Niragi snarled. “I’d love to watch him bleed out. But he doesn’t get to die all heroic because he refused to do his turn for some reason. Got it?”

Chishiya essentially sacrificing himself for him was about the worst thing Niragi could imagine. He couldn’t let that happen. That was the only reason for his decision. It had to be.

A quiet snap echoed through the room. Niragi spun around just in time to see Chishiya sit up in his chair again. He had broken one of his toes against the edge of the steel table. There was barely any tension in his expression and for someone who had just snapped his own bone in half, he looked much too relaxed.

“Attack complete.”

“Let’s move on,” Chishiya suggested. There was the faintest strain to his voice, but aside from that, he showed absolutely no sign of being in pain.

The rest of the round was as uneventful as one of these games could be. Niragi was punched, kicked, sliced, had two of his fingers broken and by the time it was Usagi’s turn in the fourth round, he was beginning to feel like he had been hit by a truck. A pounding headache had settled into his skull. Every ragged breath painfully reminded him of his broken ribs and the various bruises around his upper body. The cuts on his arm and his fractured fingers burned and his chest felt like it was still on fire. There was a steady stream of blood dripping from the deep cut across his torso and the wound in his abdomen. The dagger was still embedded into his flesh, sending sharp jolts of pain through his side with every movement.

And slowly but steadily, everything was beginning to grow distant. Muffled, slow, unreal. Niragi knew what that meant. He’d experienced it more than enough in the real world. He didn’t have much more left in him.

“How long are you gonna keep staring at that?” he mocked, unfortunately too breathless to put any real bite into the provocation.

Usagi looked up from her tablet. Niragi was surprised to see regret shimmering in her eyes. So she was getting sick of beating him up, too.

“They want me to break your arm,” she said, something akin to worry giving her voice a strange edge. “Do you want me to ski-”

“Just fucking do it,” Niragi snapped.

Usagi blinked, taken aback. To his surprise, Chishiya was the one to come to his support.

“How many points?” he asked, his voice calm.

“Six,” she replied hesitantly. “That would move me to seventeen, just like Kuina.”

“And then both Arisu and I will have a chance to get there as well,” Chishiya completed her thought. “Do it, then. We should wrap this up soon, anyway.” He nodded towards the small pool of blood that had gathered by Niragi’s feet. “I don’t think he’s bleeding out, but… he’s not going to last much longer. I’m not sure what will happen if he passes out.” He tilted his head, a small smile on this lips as if this was somehow an amusing thought. “We might lose.”

Niragi hated the way he was analyzing the sorry state he was in. He hated the way those knowing eyes were burning holes into his skin, seeing right through every attempt at a facade. Maybe he should bleed out, just so that Chishiya and the others would lose the game and die as well.

For some reason, Usagi looked at Arisu for confirmation. When he nodded, she returned the gesture and moved towards the back of her table.

“Come here.”

Niragi rolled his eyes. “Stop giving me orders.”

Still, he did what she asked, a pained hiss escaping his lips when the blade twisted against his insides. With an exaggerated movement, he slammed his left forearm onto the table. Usagi didn’t even flinch.

“Have fun,” he sneered, voice dripping with sarcasm.

She gave him a weirdly concerned look, then instructed him to turn his back against the table and position himself so that his elbow was on the cold steel surface, the rest of his arm hanging off of the front. He used the opportunity to lean against the steel block as nonchalantly as he could, a smug smile on his lips as if he was just relaxing. Usagi grabbed his arm, one hand just below his elbow, the other above his wrist. Her fingers were digging into his skin as she pressed it against the hard surface.

“It won’t work like that,” Kuina interrupted from the other side of the square. “Niragi, pin your arm to the table yourself. Usagi, use both hands. And use your body weight, both of you.”

Niragi couldn’t help but chuckle at her comment. What a fucked-up, surreal situation. Getting advice from Kuina on how to assist Usagi in breaking his own arm was not something he had expected from this day.

“I bet you’re enjoying this, huh?” he laughed.

Kuina stared at him, her expression serious. “Shut up. I’m trying to help you.”

Rolling his eyes, Niragi shoved Usagi aside to take her place in pressing his own arm onto the cold steel surface, leaning onto it with his other elbow in order to use as much of his body weight as possible. She watched him for a second, then clasped her hands around the part of his arm that was in the air.

“Ready?” she asked, slightly nervous. What an insane question to ask.

“Sure,” Niragi said flatly.

Usagi took a deep breath, slightly bouncing on her toes. He felt his heartbeat accelerate, hammering against the inside of his chest like a panicked bird trying to escape its cage. The pressure he was putting on his forearm hurt against his muscles. For just a second, Usagi’s grip loosened.

She let out a short scream at the same time as she brought down her entire body weight in one rapid motion. There was a loud crack and for a split second, everything turned white. Then the pain set in and Niragi distantly realized that now, he was the one screaming. He stumbled forward, clutching his arm to his chest. The sharp throbbing shot all the way down to his hand and up into his shoulder. He gasped for air, cutting off his own scream with a strained breath. Fuck, he was so sick of this stupid fucking game.

Niragi clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stay quiet save for the occasional pained groan he was unable to bite back. He straightened his back, letting his ruined arm hang limply by his side. The movement only renewed the hot, pulsing pain. His vision blurred and for a moment, he felt horribly nauseous. But he steadied his breathing, stumbled back towards the center of the square and turned to face Arisu.

“Your turn,” Niragi rasped.

Arisu swallowed, staring at him for another moment as if to confirm that he wasn’t about to fold like a lawn chair. He looked about ready to throw up. But when he finally lowered his gaze to look at his options, his eyes widened. He blinked in disbelief, before quickly, relief flooded his expression. His shoulders visibly dropped as he breathed out.

“Two points,” Arisu smiled. “I can get seventeen. It’s over.”

“Thank fuck,” Kuina groaned.

Usagi breathed a sigh of relief and even Chishiya leaned back in his chair, the familiar relaxed demeanor that Niragi hadn’t noticed disappearing returning to his body.

“Other: taser,” the voice happily announced.

“Going out with a bang, huh?” Niragi chuckled.

Arisu grabbed the weapon from the table, the look on his face a strange mix between determined and apologetic. “Twenty seconds. I’m sorry about th-”

“Stop fucking apologizing,” Niragi interrupted him. “I told you I don’t want your damn pity, didn’t I? Now get this over with.”

Arisu nodded, slowly closing the distance between them.

“Abdomen, if it has to be the torso,” Chishiya raised his voice, helpful as ever. “That’s safest. You should try to catch him when he falls.”

The taser flickered to life with a quiet, continuous clicking sound. At least Arisu didn’t ask if he was ready. He just gave another nod, resolve taking over his expression, and jabbed the prongs into the side of Niragi’s abdomen that wasn’t equipped with a bleeding knife wound.

The pain was instant, the sharp sensation of a million needles stabbing into his flesh traveling through his entire body. All he could do was let out a choked yelp, then his jaw locked as every single one of his muscles cramped up. He felt each individual pulse of electricity like a jackhammer. His legs gave out and Arisu just barely blocked him from heading straight for the ground. His body twitched, his muscles contorted as the other man struggled to move them towards the floor together. A strained groan tore from his throat at the same time as their knees hit the concrete.

Unlike Chishiya, Arisu wasn’t counting out loud. Niragi had absolutely no idea how much time was left. The agony intensified, the burning way worse than that of the actual flame against his skin, overtaking his consciousness until it was all he could perceive. He wanted to scream, but the only sound that left his mouth was a strangled wheezing. His insides were on fire, his body completely useless.

And then it was over. Niragi instantly gasped for breath, the air painfully flooding his lungs. His face was involuntarily pressed into Arisu’s shoulder, his muscles still twitching from the shock. He choked on air, unable to regain control. But he couldn’t stay like this, pathetically being hugged by Arisu. Niragi twisted out of the loose grip around his back and pushed the other man away. He lost his balance instantly, his upper body tipping forwards without any strength to stay upright. He tried to catch himself with his intact arm, but the limb was just as useless as the rest of him. His face and chest hit the concrete. Distantly, he noticed that there was a hand pressed against his stomach, burning against the deep cut. Arisu had kept him from falling onto the push dagger still buried in his abdomen.

“Attack complete.”

It was quiet for a few long seconds, the only sound Niragi’s strained, shallow breaths.

“Three players have reached the same score. Game clear. Congratulations.”

There were no cheers, no happy exclamations. He rolled onto his back, his broken arm and ribs complaining with a sharp, pulsing pain. His entire front was slick with warm blood. The distant ceiling was blurry. Everything fucking hurt. How the hell had this happened?

Arisu’s face appeared above him, his dark hair messily hanging down, and he really shouldn’t look so concerned, because they despised each other. It should be good that he was suffering, right? Why did he have the audacity to seem worried? Utterly unable to process the absolute ridiculousness of this entire stupid situation, Niragi could do nothing but to start laughing, the sound ugly and hoarse.

“He’s finally lost it completely,” Kuina said somewhere further back.

Arisu disappeared into the periphery of his vision and the thought crossed Niragi’s mind that they could very well just leave him here. He would, if he were them. With a still trembling hand, he felt for the dagger.

“Don’t remove it.”

Chishiya. So they weren’t leaving. Huh. Niragi let his hand slide back to the ground. He didn’t reply, instead turning his head to try and find out where the bastard was. He found him to his right, walking towards him with a slight limp, the shirt he had discarded earlier in his hands. Chishiya squatted down next to him.

“If you do that, you might bleed to death after all,” he smiled.

Niragi blinked, his eyelids leaden. “Why do you care?”

“Hm,” Chishiya made with an unreadable expression. “Who knows?”

Niragi huffed out an amused breath and turned to stare at the ceiling again. In the corner of his view, he could see Kuina sit down somewhere to the left, her head tilted back. Usagi and Arisu joined her shortly after. To his right, Chishiya began to cut up his giraffe print shirt with a hunting knife that he’d probably gotten from Usagi. Nobody said a word.

“What’s with the shitty mood?” Niragi mocked.

Kuina audibly groaned. “You’re really irritating, you know that?”

He just chuckled in response. A sudden, sharp pain raced through his side and he felt warm hands and soft fabric against his skin. He tried to lift his head to catch a glimpse of what was happening, but his muscles refused to cooperate beyond a few inches.

“What are you doing?” Niragi rasped, unable to give his voice the bite he had been aiming for.

Chishiya hummed. “Saving your life, it seems.”

Niragi winced when he felt a burning pressure against his stab wound as something was tightly wrapped around the weapon and then around his midriff.

“I didn’t ask you to,” he squeezed out through clenched teeth.

“I guess not,” Chishiya replied, an almost thoughtful undertone to his voice. “Don’t take this the wrong way. I don’t like you one bit.” He paused and for a second Niragi thought that was all he was going to say. “But you’re… interesting, I think. Not as predictable as I thought. For now, I’d like to see how you shape this world. Down the line… who knows. I suppose that depends on what you do.”

Niragi laughed, but was quickly cut off when the pressure against his wound intensified.

“Yeah. I can’t fucking stand you either.”

Darkness was beginning to close in from the corners of his view. His eyelids fluttered as he struggled to keep them open, his aching body so heavy it felt like he was sinking through the floor.

“Niragi.” Chishiya’s voice was distant, muffled through the ringing in his ears. “You’re not going to pass out, are you?”

He weakly shook his head. “Just tired,” he muttered. “You try getting your ass kicked for half an hour.”

“I’ll pass.”

“Thought so,” he huffed.

They fell quiet again and finally, Niragi couldn’t physically keep his eyes open anymore. He hated the feeling, being so vulnerable when he was surrounded by people he didn’t trust at all, while Chishiya of all people was poking at his injuries. But there was nothing he could do now, anyway. He had no choice but to believe that for some reason, they wanted to bring him back with them. Alive.

In all fairness, it wasn’t all that unrealistic, either. Most of these weirdos, Chishiya being the clear exception, got off on acting like they gave a shit about who lived and died. It was probably their own version of self-gratification. Doing something they perceived as good, even if it was helping someone they hated, just so that they could feel better about themselves. Selfish in their own selflessness. It was fucking repulsive.

Chishiya moved away for a moment and Niragi despised himself for missing the strangely comforting warmth of his hands. This day was fucking awful. He needed to get away from here, back to the Beach to beat up some lowly idiot who had dared to question their authority or something. And then he would get blackout drunk at one of their never-ending parties and forget that any of this had ever happened.

“Usagi.” Niragi watched the darkness behind his closed eyes as he listened to Chishiya’s low voice. “I’ve seen you carry a bottle around. Do you have one with you?”

“Yes,” came her reply from somewhere to the left, before what he assumed to be her footsteps moved towards them.

“You’re overdoing it,” Niragi scoffed. “If you’re trying to make fun of me, fucking cut it out. Unless you wanna get shot.”

“I don’t think you’re in any position to make threats right now.” God, he hated how smug and self-assured Chishiya always sounded. “I’m just making sure you’re not too much trouble. It would be really annoying if you pass out on the way to the car.”

Making sure he wasn’t too much trouble. As if all of this was somehow his fault. Niragi really wished he had any strength left to beat that asshole over the head with his rifle.

A damp piece of cloth was pressed against his skin and he hissed when it burned against the cut Arisu had carved across his torso. With a surprising gentleness, Chishiya began to clean away the blood around the wound.

“Shouldn’t you be thanking me?” Niragi rasped, just to distract himself from the horrifying realization that it actually felt kind of nice to let someone else take care of his injuries for once. “You’d all be dead if I hadn’t volunteered.”

With a quiet chuckle, Chishiya moved on to wrap more cloth around his beat-up torso. Niragi couldn’t help but flinch, a quiet curse escaping his lips when the makeshift bandages touched against his broken ribs.

“Didn’t you only volunteer because you knew you would have been chosen, anyway?”

Niragi abruptly opened his eyes. He couldn’t properly see Kuina, Arisu or Usagi from his position on the ground, but he could feel their gazes prickling on his skin. A surge of rage-fueled adrenaline raced through his veins, but it wasn’t enough to do anything more than stare daggers into the side of Chishiya’s head.

“I should have made you cut off a limb,” he hissed.

Chishiya smiled. “You should have.”

One day he was seriously going to blow his fucking head off.

“You done soon?” Kuina interrupted from her spot across the room. “It’s getting late.”

“Is there something we can do?” Arisu added.

Niragi wanted to throw up. He did not need the pity of these goddamn people. With every ounce of strength he could muster, he pushed himself up onto his right elbow, making sure to keep his broken arm cradled against his abdomen. A wave of lightheadedness rushed over him as his various injuries flared up with fresh pain.

“We can go,” he said anyway, pretending that the strain in his voice wasn’t there.

Chishiya stared at him, expression unreadable as always. “If you want to help, Arisu, give me your jacket.” There was an uncharacteristic gravity to his usually aloof tone.

Arisu did as he was told and Chishiya began to tie the light gray piece of clothing into a loop. Without so much as asking, he moved right up into Niragi’s space to pull the improvised sling over his head. It took him every ounce of willpower to not flinch away and hadn’t his skull been pounding with a persistent ache, he would have rewarded the transgression with a headbutt.

“For your arm,” Chishiya simply stated, expectantly holding the cloth so that there was a hole for his limb to slip through.

Niragi didn’t trust himself to speak, so he simply pushed his horribly bent arm into the sling. The painful pressure tore an involuntary gasp from his throat and the black spots in his vision made a grandiose return. Everything tilted. He was half expecting the back of his head to hit the concrete, but there was a hand pressed against his spine, keeping him upright. Chishiya’s stupid, gentle, warm hand.

As soon as his vision began returning to normal and the ringing in his ears started to fade, Niragi jerked away from the touch. Chishiya raised his hands in a mockingly placating gesture, a condescending smile on his lips. Before Niragi could even think of a snarky remark, Usagi’s water bottle appeared in front of his face.

“Drink,” she said. Then, with a glance in Chishiya’s direction: “That helps with blood loss, right?”

“For now,” he replied. “It’s better than nothing.”

Niragi was completely and utterly done with letting these losers treat him like a helpless, wounded animal. But he also didn’t even want to imagine the embarrassment of blacking out as soon as he stood up, subsequently having to be carried by someone. So despite every instinct, he snatched the bottle from Usagi and drank. Annoyingly, the pleasantly cold water really did help to dissipate his dizziness at least a little, but there was no way in hell he was going to admit that.

“Let’s go,” he snarled, shoving the bottle back into Usagi’s hand as soon as he was done.

Arisu reached out to help him up. With an annoyed click of his tongue, Niragi slapped the outstretched hand out of his way and struggled to his feet on his own. He realized his mistake almost instantly when his knees buckled and he just barely managed to catch himself. Nausea tightened his throat as his mangled side pulsed with a sharp pain.

“Right, I’m gonna help you now,” Kuina said flatly.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Niragi hissed, but his voice was so miserably quiet and hoarse, it didn’t sound like a threat at all.

Kuina rolled her eyes, grabbed his arm and pulled it around her shoulders. “It’s gonna take ages otherwise. I’m tired.”

He tried to free his wrist, but her grip was too strong. “Fuck you.”

“No thanks,” Kuina laughed. “I like women.”

Niragi had no reply to that. Her arm snaked around his upper back before she started walking and he had no choice but to stumble along. Everything about this sucked.

The walk to the car was quiet and much too long for his liking. Every step, every little movement hurt like hell and he could feel everyone’s disgustingly worried looks on him the entire way. Niragi was pretty sure that he actually wouldn’t have made it without Kuina’s help, but he was the only person he was going to admit that to.

It was more than a relief when he could finally sink into the cushions of the back seat, having made it a point to climb into the car on his own. But the feeling quickly dissipated when Chishiya let himself drop into the middle seat next to him. Arisu offered to drive, so Usagi took the other front seat while Kuina squeezed into the back with them.

Niragi turned to face the window as they started. Without any working street lights, the abandoned buildings outside were eerily dark. He tilted his gaze up, catching a view of the breathtakingly bright stars. This world was so much more beautiful than the one they had left behind.

And then Arisu had to break the moment.

“Are you gonna be okay?”

Niragi rolled his eyes. “Yeah.” He would have left it at that, but he felt that he had to make it abundantly clear that this whole thing didn’t mean anything to him. “Don’t think for even a second that I’m gonna thank any of you for this. You owed me that much. And fucking leave me alone when we’re back.”

To his right, Kuina sighed. “Every time I start to think you’re not so bad after all, you just have to go and ruin it.”

“Stop trying to think, then.”

For a moment, everyone fell quiet. Niragi shifted in his seat, struggling to relieve some of the pressure against his injuries. The deep exhaustion that had settled into his bones was wearing him down, but he couldn’t close his eyes again just yet. All of this had been humiliating enough already, there was no way he was going to risk falling asleep in the car. He wasn’t going to rest until he was back in his room at the Beach, alone. Though, he would probably have to get one of the very few doctors there to set his broken arm before that. As for the dagger that was still very much stuck in his flesh, he was just going to stitch that wound up himself. He didn’t think he could handle much more vulnerability today without shooting someone in the face.

“Niragi…” He caught Arisu glancing at him through the rear view mirror. He swallowed, hesitating to continue for a second. “What made you like this?”

What a fucking question. One that they definitely didn’t deserve the answer to.

“Nothing,” Niragi scoffed. “You already know I’m scum. I’m just proving you right.”

Chishiya chuckled quietly and it just reminded him that they were way too close, crammed into the car like this. “That’s one way to lie to yourself.”

He was much too exhausted and in pain to put up with this bullshit. “And you know me so well?” he hissed.

There was a long pause and he almost dared to hope that that was the end of it. But of course, Chishiya wasn’t going to leave it at that.

“I’d say I do. Unfortunately, I think we’re quite alike in some aspects. And… we’re all outcasts, the five of us.” His reflection in the window looked lost in thought. “In our own ways, we-”

“I’m nothing like you fucking losers,” Niragi interrupted him, his voice raspy.

In the window, he could see Chishiya turn to look at him with a smug smile. “But you are. You think that there is something fundamentally wrong with you, don’t you? But would that really be so bad?”

Fucking asshole.

“Hah?” Niragi made.

“At the very least, it makes things a little more interesting.” For the first time ever since they had met, Chishiya’s smile looked almost genuine. “You still piss me off, but… I think it’s good that you’re different.”

He almost wanted to believe him.

“I don’t give a fuck what you think,” Niragi said instead.

He didn’t. He really didn’t. He wanted nothing to do with these people. He just needed to be hated and feared, to prove everyone right in thinking that he was a monster. He didn’t need someone to talk to, someone to share a drink and a laugh with, someone to tend to his wounds after a game. He didn’t need someone to tell him that he was okay.

Everything was fine the way it was. This was how he wanted it. This was all he deserved.

He didn’t mind feeling so goddamn lonely all the time.