Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warnings:
Fandoms:
Characters:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Collections:
Time Travel and World Travel, My Favorite Fanfiction
Stats:
Published:
2019-05-13
Completed:
2021-11-20
Words:
606,894
Chapters:
123/123
Comments:
285
Kudos:
252
Bookmarks:
38
Hits:
12,586

Emina Games

Summary:

A cross-universe battle royale pits twenty-four players against one another. Characters' strengths are put to the test and unexpected bonds are formed along the way. But what is the point of the bloodshed? Is it a "last-man standing" act after all, or is there more to this game than it seems?
A multi-fandom crossover is at hand - who will win the game?

Notes:

There will be two more introductory chapters beyond the intro as the groups are fleshed out. This is a story I have written ahead a bit, so rest assured this won't be a story left unfinished. I hope you may enjoy the adventure ahead!

Chapter 1: Intro

Chapter Text

Snap.

The lights went up. It was like the sun rose and the sky came to life all in an instant. One moment, darkness - the next, it’s noontime. There was immediate confusion. Twenty-four people stood upon individual pillars, all facing one another in a circle. No one knew where they were or how they got there, nor could they identify who stood around them. This might have been because everyone else was made into a silhouette to their own eyes, even though they could see themselves just fine. All they could make out from the others was their eyes and their figure. The whispers began.

“Oh no, not this again…” A young boy’s voice, weak and trembling. Blue eyes.

“What the fuck?” Low and frustrated. Hazel eyes.

“What the hell’s going on?” Blue eyes.

“A dream…?” Red eyes.

“Or a nightmare…” Brown.

“We’re gonna get an explanation, right?” Brown.

“Certainly, we’ll experience a bit of spice…” Purple.

“I-I-I’m confused…” Red.

Welcome!” A loud voice boomed around all of them, the origin of which could not be pinpointed. “Congratulations! All of you have been chosen to participate in The Emina Games!

Another ripple of confusion ensued, but the voice only continued.

There are twenty-four contestants from ten different realms! Here are the rules: First! Each of you are to be placed in teams of four! This is to provide a little more fairness to the game, as there are multiple species involved in this great time we’ll be having. Until a certain point in the game, you should remain in your groups. There may come a time where all groups must be disbanded. Alliances are not recommended, but are allowed.

“Number two! Each person will be given a weapon not of their choice, but don’t worry; I have ensured that your weapons will fit your personality just fine! Those of you who already have ‘special abilities’ will not get a weapon, as your ‘special ability’ is considered a weapon itself. Those of you who need ammo will be able to find ammo around the playing area. Food has also been dispersed, as well as ‘special items’ that will be explained if you actually find them.

“Number three! Your playing field is a city! It does not have a name, so you can call it whatever you’d like. This game will take more than a day, so be prepared to find places to sleep. Although this city will be empty besides the twenty-four of you, there will be a lot of houses and rooms that are still fully stocked as if people did live there. I will not be throwing in any other players…most likely.

“Number four!” The voice ignored the noises of irritation among the players. “Some of your abilities have been altered! I have placed limits on those of you who need them. I can’t have any invincible players, now, can I? This is to help ensure the fairness of the game, although to be fair this game is not fair in the least. I will explain the new limits after we’ve all introduced ourselves.

“Number five! The objective of this game is to survive! The goal is to kill as many people as possible and hopefully not die in the process. This is a battle royale! Enjoy yourselves and do your best, everybody! You may kill them in whatever way you wish; there are no rules about that. Be as merciful or as horrendous as you’d like.

“Are there any questions thus far?” The voice stopped. There was silence as this sunk in.

“…How the fuck did we get here?” It was a low and irritated voice that was answered by a snickering from one of the other contestants. Hazel eyes.

“You were transported in ways yet to be explained.” Simple and blunt.

“What’s the point of all this?” This silhouette was putting a hand on his hip. Blue eyes, though only one was showing. His outline suggested that perhaps his bangs were swept over his right. “Honestly, what’s in it for us if we win, other than surviving?”

“Yeah, and what if you’re already dead, huh?” asked another irritable voice of a smaller person. Amber eyes.

“If you are already dead, you can still be killed here. Certain people have been altered, as you may remember. Depending upon your situation, the prize at the end differs. You could call it a surprise. Later on in the game, there is a possibility that each individual prize will be revealed once the contestants have narrowed down considerably.”

“W…will we be with people we know?” Red eyes. Nervous posture. He seemed to be wearing a scarf.

“For most of you, yes. For others, no. You’ll find out soon.”

“O-oh… Okay…”

“Now, let’s begin our introductions!” Those who were not able to voice their inquiries shut their mouths. Some were irritable about it. “You will state your name and your species. We all must be honest, here. Ken Kaneki will begin for us, and then we’ll go clockwise. Begin!”

This boy, Ken Kaneki, straightened a bit. Now he was out in the open, no longer a silhouette to the others. His hair was snow white, his eye(s) grey. Black pants and white button-up with a black tie and unbuttoned vest; pretty simple. There was a black eye patch that covered his left eye. He bowed. “Ken Kaneki; it is a pleasure to meet you all. I am an artificially made half-ghoul.”

“Shuu Tsukiyama!” A proud statement from a purple-haired man as colorful and boastful as a peacock. His fashion sense was…interesting, to say the least. “I am a ghoul, the gourmet, to be precise. It’s a pleasure!” He bowed extravagantly.

“Seidou Takizawa…” A young man with brown hair parted down the middle was revealed, a single piece sticking up in the center. He wore formal attire, mostly blue. He seemed nervous but strong-minded. He eyed the first two contestants with discomfort. “I am a human, and a ghoul investigator!” He ended with more determination.

“I am also a ghoul investigator!” A boy with longer orange hair was revealed, two pieces of hair sticking up at the very top of his head. There was a longer section of his bangs that hung in the middle of his forehead. His teeth were pointed, and he sported a dark green jacket over a white collared shirt and black tie. “I’m a half-ghoul and one of the Quinx; Ginshi Shirazu!”

“Shizuo Heiwajima,” said a blond, grown man in gruff tones. He huffed. He was strangely in a bartender’s outfit. “I don’t know what the fuck a ‘ghoul’ is…but I’m a human.”

The next contestant began to laugh. “Oh my, well, I digress.” Shizuo stiffened at the voice. “I’m Izaya Orihara; pleasure to meet you all!” A man with black hair and sinister eyes, a cruel smile on his face. He wore a weird Eskimo kind of jacket, as well. “Also, I suppose you could call me a human, too.” He snickered.

“Psyche! I’m Psyche Orihara!” Izaya stopped laughing, confused. Shizuo could only stare in shock and terror. Two Izayas? Psyche, who adorned mostly white attire save for pink headphones and pink buttons on his jacket, saluted the group. Though he looked exactly like Izaya in features, his attire, facial expression, and general aura were far different. “Happy to meet you all! I like games, so I’m sure it’ll be fun! I’m a human too!”

Shizuo muttered a, “What the fuck…” in undertones.

“Hoh~ This is even more interesting.” Izaya put a hand to his chin, intrigued.

“Two of the same person…?” Seidou was trying to grasp the situation. He still wasn't over the existence of a half-ghoul ghoul investigator.

The next silhouette snapped with both his fingers and struck a casual pose. Blond with pink and white headphones. Although he wore mostly white, the dress shirt under his jacket was pink with black stripes, and his neck adorned a black tie. “Delic Heiwajima, it’s really a pleasure to meet every one of ya~ I, too, am a human as well as single.”

There were no words that could express the horrified looks on both Shizuo’s and Izaya’s faces.

“Izaya Hachimenroppi,” said the next, someone who looked exactly like Izaya but with red eyes and red trim on his Eskimo jacket, rather than beige. His aura was less playful. “I prefer Roppi. I’m human.”

“Sh-sh-shizuo Tsu-tsukishima!” A man wearing glasses and a beige scarf bowed hastily, face red out of nervousness. He, too, wore a bartender’s outfit. “I-I am human, so-pleased to meet…all of you…”

“Ugh…” A boy with messy black hair rubbed the back of his head. He wore a black v-neck and khaki pants, though his most prominent characteristic was the red jersey he wore. “Shintaro Kisaragi… human.”

“The Clearing Eyes Snake,” grinned a man all in black, black hair tied into a low, short ponytail. Me ga Saeru Hebi. There were grey headphones on his head and grey arrows on his pants as well as on his boots.

Shintaro was uncomfortable. “Uh… Konoha?”

“No, no… But I guess it’s easier for all of you to call me Kuro Konoha or Kuroha, hm?” He grinned. His pupils were slits, eyes glowing yellow. “My species is rather complicated, but I'm currently possessing an android body.”

“I’m A-ya,” said a boy with shadows under his red eyes, looking dully at everyone. There was a spark in his eyes that was hard to catch. His messy raven hair had a single ahoge stuck in the air. He wore a black hoodie and red plaid pants. “Human.”

“C-ta; it’s a pleasure to meet you all.” This boy smiled charmingly, eyes droopy and friendly, a warm green. Beige jacket, red v-neck, and the same pants as A-ya. “I’m also human.”

“I’m Yukiteru Amano,” said the next, uncomfortably shifting from foot to foot. The most prominent parts of his attire were his orange jacket and his beige hat, which covered his black hair. “I’m a human.”

“Keiichi Maebara!” This one seemed pretty confident. He wore a short-sleeved button-up shirt and black pants. His hair was brown. “Human!”

“Hello, everyone, I am Yato the delivery god!” introduced the next happily. His hair was a dark purple, and his eyes seemed to glow with an almost sky-blue hue. He wore a black jersey and an abnormal, very puffy white scarf around his neck.

“I’m Yukine,” sighed the much younger one at the next pillar. He was blond and looked annoyed. Apparently there were a lot of blond, irritable people. Yukine’s amber eyes were averted from the group, hands in his pockets. He wore a light blue hoodie and green pants. “I’m a Shinki; basically a dead human that’s kinda special.”

“He’s my pride and joy~” Yato said happily.

“Right…” The kid, Yukine, didn’t seem so joyful.

“I am Ciel Phantomhive, Earl of the Phantomhive estate!” This small boy’s introduction was a bit on the fancy side, more so than even that Tsukiyama fellow. His clothes were of the upper class of 1800’s England. Both an eye patch and his hair concealed his right eye. “I am a human.”

“I,” a butler all in black bowed, “am Sebastian Michaelis. I am merely one hell of a—”

“Species must be identified,” The Voice cut in before he could finish his catchphrase.

“…I am a demon,” the butler clarified, coughing gently into his white-gloved hand. “Sincere apologies.”

“Shinichi Izumi.” Brown hair swept back, simple nice clothing with a tie, much like the Seidou boy. “I’m human…”

“Migi.” His hand morphed into a strange blob with one eye and a mouth. “I am a parasite.” Discomfort swept through the other contestants.

“Well, that’s gross,” said the next. “I’m Yoh Takami; Yoh is fine.” His taupe hair fell over his left eye. He wore simple prison attire. “I’m a human.”

“Um… I’m Ganta Igarashi…” The next scratched at his cheek. Very short, dark brown hair was mussed atop his head, and he wore the same prison attire as Yoh. “I’m a human… well… I’m a Deadman… Which is pretty much still a human, though, so…”

“Thank you all for your participation! I will now read you your groups…”

“I can’t believe this kind of thing is happening again…,” Yukiteru mumbled to himself.

“Hey, Ganta,” said Yoh, pointing at his neck. “Even though this kinda sucks, we don’t have our poison collars.”

“Even though,” Ganta responded, pale, “I guess we’re on death row here anyway… We’re being forced to kill each other… Nnn…”

“I can’t wait to beat your ass in this stupid game,” Shizuo hissed at Izaya.

Izaya laughed. “Oh, this sure will be fun.”

“Wait, Izaya-san doesn’t like Shizu-chan after all? Ohhh…” Psyche said in amazement. He appeared enlightened.

“The groups are as follows!” The twenty-four went silent. “In Group 1, we have Ken Kaneki and Ginshi Shirazu of the Realm of Ghouls, paired with Psyche Orihara and Delic Heiwajima from the Realm of Alternate Personalities.”

“Alternate personalities…?” Shizuo was perplexed. “You mean to say there’s a reality where I act like that?!” He gestured to Delic.

“Hey, I’m not that bad, am I?” Delic feigned heartache, clutching his chest. “My own original self…”

“That is pretty scary… Even scarier than you, Shizu-chan,” said Izaya, hand to his mouth.

“Shut the fuck up,” Shizuo growled.

“In Group 2, we have Izaya Hachimenroppi and Shizuo Tsukishima from the Realm of Alternate personalities, paired with Seidou Takizawa from the Realm of Ghouls and Shintaro Kisaragi from the Realm of the Heat Haze.”

“At least…I’m not with any ghouls,” Seidou assured himself, rubbing the back of his head.

“In Group 3, we have A-ya and C-ta from the Realm of the Bookmark of Demise, paired with Yukiteru Amano from the Realm of the Future Diaries and Keiichi Maebara from the Realm of the Hinamizawa Syndrome.”

“Hinamizawa Syndrome…” Keiichi squinted. “I don’t think…that even I know what that is…”

Yukiteru played with his fingers nervously. “Will I get my diary, then…? I don’t have my cell phone here…”

“In Group 4 we have Shinichi Izumi and Migi from the Realm of Parasytes, paired with Ciel Phantomhive and Sebastian Michaelis from the Realm of Demon Butlers.”

“I guess it’s kind of a given Migi and I are together, huh…,” Shinichi remarked to himself.

“Well, we have some interesting partners, don’t we, Young Master?” Sebastian said, vaguely amused with this whole set-up.

Ciel only eyed Shinichi and Migi with a frown.

“In Group 5 we have Ganta Igarashi and Yoh Takami from the Realm of Deadmen, paired with Kuroha from the Realm of the Heat Haze and Shuu Tsukiyama from the Realm of Ghouls.”

“Even despite the flaw in this system, I will still remain loyal to Kaneki-kun,” Tsukiyama vowed elegantly, hand over his heart.

“Hah… This sure will be fun…” Kuroha gave an eerie smile, laughing under his breath.

“We’re stuck with the fucked-up snake dude and the purple weirdo over there… Great,” muttered Yoh. Ganta sighed.

Izaya had done the math and swallowed, an uncomfortable smirk curling his mouth. “You’re kidding…”

“In Group 6, we have Yato and Yukine from the Realm of the Near and Far Shores, paired with Shizuo Heiwajima and Izaya Orihara from the Realm of the Dark Rider.”

NO FUCKING WAY.” Shizuo obviously disagreed with the idea. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me, right? There’s no way I’m working with that maggot!”

“As if I want to be with you, protozoan…”

“Oh, just fucking great…”

The tension had risen drastically within a few seconds.

“Well, this is uncomfortable,” Yukine remarked, voice dull.

“You will all now be transported by means of teleportation to your starting points. Each group will be in different parts of the city so they can prepare for any meetings with other groups. Your weapons will be waiting for you. Those who have abilities and will not be getting weapons are as follows: Ken Kaneki, Ginshi Shirazu, Delic Heiwajima, Shizuo Tsukishima, Shinichi Izumi, Migi, Sebastian Michaelis, Saeru (or rather, Kuroha), Shuu Tsukiyama, Ganta Igarashi, Shizuo Heiwajima, Yato, and Yukine. The limits placed on those who need them… will be explained as these obstacles meet you. You will now be transported. Good luck, and remember your objective!”

With this cheery farewell, the game began.

Chapter 2: Groups 1-3

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Kaneki, Shirazu, Psyche, and Delic found themselves all standing on wooden flooring. As it was a sudden scene change, both Delic and Shirazu stumbled a bit, disoriented. It was as though the ground had shifted under their feet. The four looked around at their starting point. There was a large pink circle painted on the ground, and they looked to be in some kind of log cabin. The lighting was poor, but a thin ray of sunlight ran its way from the pane-less window across the floor to Psyche’s feet. The raven-haired pink-lover looked confusedly out the window. “Trees? I thought we were in a city…” He went over to the window and looked out. Delic followed, equally perplexed.

“That weird voice-dude could have lied,” Shirazu suggested, looking around. “And, uh, I think I found your weapon, Psyche.” The orange-haired one gestured to Psyche to come over, and he did.

“Ooo, wow! It’s a pink gun!” He picked it up, brandishing it with care. He petted it once with love before turning around and pointing it right at Delic. “Isn’t it cool, Deli?”

Delic ducked out of the way. “Hey, hey, don’t point that thing at me! Jesus, don’t kill your own teammates…”

“I don’t think we really have to kill anyone, right?” Psyche asked, unsuspecting, and Delic looked nervously at Shirazu.

Kaneki looked at the ground, touching his chin.

“Uh…I think…we might,” Shirazu said, rubbing the back of his head.

“Alright, Psyche, listen to me,” Delic said, going right up to Psyche and grabbing his shoulders. “If that voice wasn’t lying, then we might actually be in danger. There might actually be people who try to kill us. We’ve gotta take this kinda serious, alright? I don’t want you getting hurt…”

Psyche tilted his head, sure that his friend wasn’t serious about it. Delic allowed a few beats of silence. Psyche's eyes widened. Delic never  talked like this. “You mean…we might…die?” The last word was only a whisper. His eyes were filled with utter fear and began to well up with tears.

“Uh--hey…” Shirazu didn’t know what to do.

“Don’t worry,” Kaneki came in, breaking his silent streak with a warm, reassuring face. He came over and put his hand on Psyche’s shoulder. “Even if anything does happen, I’m used to fighting people, so I’ll make sure neither of you get hurt, alright? I promise to protect everyone here.”

“R…really?” Psyche was hesitant to believe.

“I’m sure…” Kaneki paused, and touched his chin. “I’m sure that everything will turn out just fine, here. Okay?”

Psyche blinked a few times, then smiled again. “Okay!”

Delic gave Kaneki a look that said Thanks for that, and Kaneki gave a slight nod.

“Ohh, man, I wasn’t sure before but now I’m positive!” Shirazu was grinning at Kaneki. “I knew it! You’re totally Sassan, aren’t you?”

Kaneki gazed at him in confusion. “Sassan?”

“Haise Sasaki! You’re probably who he used to be, right? You’ve gotta be!”

“I…don’t know who….”

“Let me guess: you like books, right? And you’re super protective and you worry about stupid shit?”

“Well, I guess that--”

“You’re totally Sassan!”

Psyche and Delic looked at one another in confusion.

“So…hm…” Kaneki put his hand to his chin, this time in deep thought. “So, you say that my name is Haise Sasaki; how old is Haise?”

“Twenty-two? I think. Why?”

“I’m nineteen, so if you’re right, then…then that would mean that you’re further ahead in time than I am.”

Psyche spoke up. “I guess that wouldn’t be too weird, since apparently there are people from different worlds here, right? And Izaya-san didn’t recognize me or Deli…”

“Hm, yeah,” Delic agreed.

“I mean, where I’m from…when I’m from…Sassan does have amnesia, so it’s not like he remembers being you or anything,” Shirazu explained. “You’re my mentor, actually, in the Quinx squad, y’know? You’re a Rank One in the CCG.”

Kaneki stared, processing this. “I…join the CCG?”

“Yep! And you’re a super cool officer, too, so it’s pretty awesome. Me and the rest of the Quinx have you as our mentor; we all have a little bit of ghoul in us. See?” As if to prove it, his right eye turned red, his sclera darkening into something close to black.

“Whoa…” Psyche and Delic stared in awe.

“The CCG takes in artificial half-ghouls?” Kaneki was appalled at all of this.

“Yeah, uh…I guess it might be a bad idea to tell you all this stuff, huh? Uh…” He rubbed the back of his head and averted his eyes. “I… oops. Me and my big mouth… I feel like a time traveler or somethin’. I’m pretty sure you two are the same guy, so…”

“What I’m wondering most is why they’d take us from two different time frames…”

“Do ya think it’s because now we’re both the same age? I mean, I’m nineteen too, so it’s kinda weird to me…” Shirazu furrowed his brow.

Kaneki shrugged. “Maybe, but I guess it’ll remain a mystery for now. Until then, I’ll take your word for it and believe that in the future, I am your mentor.” He smiled at Shirazu.

“See, see, when you make that face I know it’s gotta be true… But you’re definitely way more serious than he is…”

“Hm.” Kaneki thought that perhaps it was because his memory was wiped. He’d been through a hell of a lot, so it wouldn’t surprise him if he were to become more lighthearted once he forgot. He didn’t think that he really wanted to forget, but… There were mixed emotions involved, he guessed.

Psyche raised his hand.

“Psyche, you can just talk,” said Delic, sounding slightly annoyed.

“I was wondering if we could all get to know each other better before we do anything big. Can we?”

The other three looked at one another and agreed. “I don’t see why not,” Kaneki said. “It’ll help us to figure each other out now, anyway.”

“I’ll start!” Psyche said happily, and promptly sat down on the edge of the pink circle painted on the floor. The others slowly sat down around the edge.

“I feel like we’re at some kind of slumber party,” Delic grumbled.

Psyche giggled. “My name is Psyche; I like lotsa things and love everyone. I’m twenty-one. My favorite food is cake and I love all sweets. I really like bunny rabbits. My favorite color is pink and I’m actually a singer and piano-player in a band called Psychedelic Dreams. I know three other people here besides Deli, and four if you count Shizu-chan. I’ve never really fought before, but I’m pretty flexible and acrobatic, y’know? I also have pretty good aim~” He beamed. “Your turn, Shira-chan!”

“Shira-chan—? What kind of… ugh… Never mind…” Shirazu rubbed the back of his head again. “Uhh… Well… I’m Shirazu, and I like orange I guess? Sharks are pretty cool. I’m a Rank Three ghoul investigator right now, but I might get promoted to Rank Two soon because of this huge-ass operation we just pulled off. Ghoul investigators fight ghouls, which are like people but they have to eat human flesh.” Psyche and Delic glanced at one another at this new info. “It’s kinda messed, but that’s why we go after them. Sassan’s different. Well, Kaneki. I’m part ghoul, but I can eat normal food. I have the same kinda weapon as a ghoul, though: a kagune, which is like…cool… It comes out of their backs and…yeah. Mine shoots stuff, but it’s not too great with aim. Sometimes my hearing is extra good.” He shrugged. “I’ve been trained, too. Like, I work out? That sort of thing. Your turn, Kaneki.”

“I’m Kaneki… I like to read, though I haven’t had time for it lately… My preference is tragedies, and my favorite author is Sen Takatsuki. I cannot eat normal food; I haven’t been able to since a certain incident in which I became the half-ghoul I am now… My favorite food used to be steak burgers. The only thing I enjoy taste-wise, now, is coffee. I’m… moderately strong, and have a kagune that has scales. Its aim is good; close range is best for my particular kind. I’ve done a lot of fighting as of late, but I’m not a hateful person. I’m going to fight to make sure as few people die as possible. I’ll do my best not to let anyone here get hurt…”

“So, wait, you’ve gotta eat people?” Delic asked, squinting incredulously.

Kaneki frowned. “That’s right.”

“Man, that sucks.”

“N…no cake…” Psyche seemed on the verge of tears.

“Don’t worry, Psyche,” said Kaneki reassuringly. “I don’t mind it at all…”

“You don’t mind eating people?” Delic stared at him, mouth agape.

“Ah, no, that’s not…”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it, Kaneki - Deli eats people too sometimes, and in fact I think he really likes doing it. I don’t think it’s the same kind of thing, but you guys both kinda eat people, so you two can be best friends!”

“Psyche, you’re not supposed to go and say that,” Delic laughed.

“After all,” Psyche shrugged, “Deli always says ‘Delic’ is short for ‘delicious.’”

“Oh, come on, Psyche; be quiet--” Delic grabbed at Psyche’s hair and tugged at it irately. “Ya ruined a great pick-up line!”

“Uwaaa, Deli, noo…!” Psyche wailed in protest of the hair-pulling.

Shirazu snapped to attention as something occurred to him. “Hey, Kaneki!”

Kaneki stopped furrowing his brow at Psyche and Delic and turned to Shirazu.

“Do you like bananas?” It was a sudden question asked with urgency.

Kaneki blinked. “Bananas?”

“Yeah. Bananas. Did you like them back when you could taste them?”

“I…well…” He thought about it. “I think I liked them pretty well. It wasn’t my favorite or anything, but I definitely liked them. Sometimes they’d make up my lunch. Why?”

“Just wondering.”

Kaneki thought about this. He couldn’t figure any reason he might have asked such a random question, unless it had something to do with this “Haise” that he mentioned. “Well…Delic, I suppose it’s your turn.”

“Oh, alright. Hm…” He stroked his chin. “Well, I’m Delic, and I’m the other lead singer of Psychedelic Dreams. I also do the guitar. I super duper like sweets too, but I also really, really love chicken wings. I have impulse control issues, and I’m pretty flirtatious, but I’m hella strong, so I can do all sorts of shit that normal people can’t. I chased Psyche with a street sign once ‘cause he stole my cake.”

“Mhm!” Psyche agreed happily.

“A street sign?” asked Shirazu. “Why a street sign?”

Delic shrugged. “It was the thing closest to me.”

“…Huh…”

“Well,” said Kaneki, getting to his feet. “I think that the best thing now is to start heading out. We might as well get ready. If we’re in the forest, we’re probably on the outskirts of the city. I see no reason for that voice to lie to us about something like setting.”

Delic nodded. “I don’t think any of it has much reason, but alright; sounds good.”

“Shouldn’t we pick a leader?” asked Shirazu.

“That would help us maintain a structure,” Kaneki agreed. “If there’s someone to give orders, there won’t be chaos in the face of an emergency…hopefully.”

Shirazu placed his vote immediately. “I vote for Kaneki!”

“I could totally--” Delic began, shooting for leader.

Psyche was the one who cut him off. “I also pick Kaneki!”

“Wow, thanks, Psyche…”

“Yep!”

“Eh, I’d pick Kaneki too, so… Makes sense,” Delic shrugged it off, grinning. “You’re definitely most capable. Also smart, so that helps. You just kinda feel like a leader, y’know?”

“Well…I guess so…” Kaneki scratched at his cheek, smiling lopsidedly. “Alright then…I guess I’ll lead the way, in case someone comes for us.” He paused, thinking about all of this. “Thank you all for choosing me… Ah… I’d prefer Shirazu in the back due to his good senses…in case someone ambushes us from behind. We’re in a wooded area, so everyone make sure to keep an eye on the branches above us, too.” The others nodded. “I guess that’s it.” He began for the door.

“Ah, one more thing,” Delic cut him off and took him by the shoulder. Kaneki looked back at him. “I…don’t suppose your free to date?”

Kaneki gazed at him with a completely deadpan expression. When he at last responded, his voice was flat. “…No.”


 

Tsukishima fell over immediately upon the change of scenery with a yell. Shintaro sat down right away, dazed.

Roppi and Seidou didn’t seem affected, and Seidou in particular was looking at them with a vaguely concerned smile. Why are people like this in a survival game…?

“Well…” Roppi looked around. “We’re on a roof.”

The others began to take in their surroundings: above them was a cloud-patched blue sky. All of them were on top of a large red circle. There was a door that led back inside the building behind Roppi, and there was a railing on all sides of the roof to prevent people from falling. Roppi walked to the ledge and looked down. “I’d guess we’re about thirty stories high…”

“Ohhh boy…,” Tsuki said faintly. He was afraid of heights. He decided he wouldn’t go anywhere near the edge of the roof. Unless of course he thought that Roppi would decide jumping off was a good idea--oh, God, why was he thinking like that? Of course he wouldn’t; not right now, right? Right? Tsuki, just stop thinking so much… He squeezed his eyes shut.

“Well, I think our weapons are over on top of the…door-thing,” remarked Seidou, who went over to the side of it and went up a metal ladder to reach the top. “Hey, yeah; they’re labeled too! Someone come over here so I can hand them down to you…”

Roppi turned around, dull-eyed as always as he helped Seidou get the weapons down. “This is for Shintaro,” Seidou said, handing down a red-handled pair of scissors. Roppi quirked an eyebrow at it, skeptical, but set it on the ground. “This is mine…” He handed Roppi a crossbow-like object. He was vaguely impressed with this one in comparison to the scissors. “Thank goodness I have my quinque. I feel a little better now. And…this is yours, Roppi. Nice.” He handed Roppi a machine gun, and Roppi’s eyes widened in surprise. He looked at the weapon for a bit while Seidou came down the ladder.

“…They gave me a machine gun,” Roppi stated.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Seidou agreed, smiling in a crooked way. “Pretty cool.”

“Roppi, you got a machine gun?” Tsuki asked incredulously.

“I kinda expected a switchblade, to be honest,” Roppi remarked, then smirked. “But this is way better.”

Seidou picked up his quinque and the scissors before taking the scissors over to Shintaro and handing them to him.

“You’re serious?” Shintaro asked weakly. “This is what I’ve got?”

“Yeah, yours does kinda suck in comparison,” Roppi agreed.

“…Oh, man… No iPod… no computer… no air conditioning…” He sighed heavily before laying on his back, arm over his eyes. He was ignored.

“So you don’t have a weapon, right?” Seidou asked Tsuki. “Is there something else you’ve got?”

“W…well…” Tsuki looked down uncomfortably, tugging at his scarf. “I--I have superhuman strength…I guess… I--I just--it’s just that I--I don’t like…to use it… At all…”

“Hm… Well, I don’t really like the idea of any part of this, so…” Seidou frowned. “I guess we’re in the same boat. I mean, I’m down with killing the ghouls; that’s my job anyway, so that part’s fine. Even though apparently a half-ghoul’s in the CCG, which doesn’t make sense to me…”

“I don’t know what most of that meant,” Roppi informed him. “I personally would like to kill a certain asshole by the name of Izaya Orihara, so he’s my target.”

“I-I don’t want to kill anyone…” Tsuki nervously wrung his wrists.

Seidou sat down on the edge of the red circle; Roppi followed his lead, holding the machine gun with care. “I think,” said Seidou, “that we need to learn each other’s strengths and abilities so that we can effectively work as a team.”

“Aren’t we going to have to fight against each other, eventually?” Roppi inquired dully.

“D-do we really have to do all that?” asked Tsuki, brow furrowed. He pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose.

“Well, I guess so…,” Seidou answered. “I mean, I don’t have any idea how we got here, and I bet neither does anyone else, so I think it’s a serious enough situation that we should just go with it for now… I think we should all do our best to survive! The whole concept is stupid, in my opinion, but if someone does attack us, we’ve got to be ready.”

“Well, I’m gonna hazard a guess that that guy only has weaknesses,” Roppi commented, jutting his thumb in Shintaro’s direction.

Shintaro sat up. “Huh? Me? I’m not that bad! Really!”

Roppi rolled his eyes. "I don't know, you seem pretty useless."

"I'm not useless--I just happen to be a shut-in!"

The dark one looked even more unimpressed. "Great." His sarcasm felt nearly tangible. "He's a shut-in."

"Actually, I take that back; that sounds bad--"

"U-um, Roppi..." said Tsuki, timid, "...aren't you also a shut-in?"

There was a beat of silence. "Shut up."

"S-sorry."

“Well, should we start?” Seidou rubbed the back of his head, his smile obviously strained. “We really should try not to argue... And like, we should say anything else you think everyone should know. At the very least we gotta know each other’s strengths.”

“Why don’t you start?” Roppi asked him, dull.

“Eh? Alright… Well, I’m Seidou Takizawa; you guys can call me Seidou, since this isn’t really a professional setting. I am twenty-two years old. My weapon is a quinque, so it’ll be especially useful against the Gourmet. It’s an anti-ghoul weapon. It shoots crystallized projectiles, so... I guess it’ll work just fine against humans, too. I’ve been physically trained by the CCG, and my aim is good. I’m only a Rank Two investigator right now, but I was almost the top of my class.” There was a bit of an edge to his tone at the word ‘almost.

“O-oh, how cool,” Tsuki commented, smiling at him nervously. Everything about him was nervous. “I-I’m glad that we have you on…on our team.”

“Well, thanks!” Seidou grinned. “I guess you can go next,” he said to Roppi.

Roppi eyed him. “I’m Roppi; nineteen years old. I’m very skilled with a knife, and my aim is sharp, so I think a machine gun will do just fine. I know a few of the people out there. Anyone that looks like me or Tsuki is someone I can tell you guys about. I could care less about the fact we all have to kill each other, really.” He looked at Tsuki.

“O-oh, um, I’m Tsuki… T-twenty years old… I…have a strength a-ability that ex-exceeds, um, n-normal humans… So…I can lift weird things like--like cars… But--but only if I really want to… I…don’t really like--like using it too often, so… Um… Yeah, that--that’s about it.” He looked at Shintaro.

“Uh…” Shintaro rubbed the back of his head uncomfortably. “I’m Shintaro… I’m eighteen, and I’m… Well, I’m good with computers, at least? A…and…”

“Useless,” Roppi scoffed.

“N-no!" He paused to come up with an argument, and Roppi arched his eyebrows expectantly. Shintaro could come up with nothing. "Actually... yeah, you’re right…” He hung his head in shame.

“I-I’m sure there’s something else that--that’s a--a-a quality,” Tsuki assured him.

Shintaro shifted. “Uh… I…am a… I’m smart. I guess.” He looked increasingly anxious. “Like, a little over average. A little. Just a little. I mean. And. And I can remember things easy. Like--I dunno, I have a--a photographic memory, if that helps at all…”

“Yeah, sure it can!” Seidou smiled at him. “With a photographic memory, we can figure out who we’re up against, can’t we? Because you remember all the faces, right?”

“Y…yeah…”

“We’ll use that, then. See? Not useless.” Seidou frowned meaningfully at Roppi, who shrugged. Tsuki sighed. “I want to get down to the bottom of this. I’m going to figure out what this game’s really all about,” Seidou vowed.

“Who’ll lead?” Roppi asked, slipping his red-fringed jacket down to his elbows. Though he wore a long-sleeved (also black) shirt beneath it, this action would still help him cool off.

“Oh. Uh… I guess…I’ll lead! If that’s alright…” Seidou shifted.

Roppi shrugged. “I don’t want to anyway.”

“I-I think that that--that is a good idea,” Tsuki agreed.

“Euh, sounds good to me…,” Shintaro sighed. “I just hope there’s a/c in this building…”

Seidou got to his feet, brandishing his crossbow quinque with an earnest fire in his eyes. “Let’s do this.”


 

“We’re in…a park?” Keiichi looked around confusedly, sitting on the ground as he, too, had lost his balance. Yukiteru had almost fallen, but had caught himself in time. He, Keiichi, A-ya, and C-ta all absorbed the situation. They were on an orange circle painted upon the sidewalk of what seemed to be a park. Not any kind of children’s park, per se; just an ordinary city park for walks and playing with dogs and other park-y things. Right beside them was a large fountain. There were four weapons on the ledge of the fountain with a piece of paper beneath each. “Huh…” Keiichi got up and went over to them.

C-ta joined him. “Hm, it seems you have a baseball bat,” C-ta remarked as Keiichi lifted it and gave it a test swing. The paper beneath had his name on it.

“Sweet,” Keiichi grinned. “I…" His smile faded into confusion. "I don’t play baseball, actually.”

“A box cutter…huh?” C-ta lifted the red-hilted tool and examined it, moving the blade in and out. “Works for me,” he said brightly, smiling. The truth of the situation was making him nervous, but he shoved the box cutter into his pocket and lifted the red-handled scissors that belonged to A-ya. He took them over to his childhood friend, expression warm. “Here…” He couldn’t help but notice his friend was trembling, if slightly.

“Yeah…thanks,” A-ya responded with his usual expressionless face.

C-ta tilted his head, knowing full well he was terrified on the inside. A complete calm flooded C-ta; A-ya came first. A-ya came first. A-ya came first. Of course… I must be well, for A-ya.

“I…I don’t have my diary…” Yukiteru seemed distressed as he picked up his weapon: darts. “What’ll I…?” He whimpered softly and sat on the edge of the fountain, putting his face in his hands.

“Hey, hey, it’s fine, alright?” Keiichi assured him. “We can beat this! I believe it; we can go against the odds and win this thing, okay?”

“Right…” It was as though a dark cloud had settled around him. He felt doomed.

“It’s okay, A-ya,” said C-ta to A-ya, stroking his back comfortingly. “I’ll protect you.”

Yukiteru looked up, staring at C-ta. His eyes portrayed mixed emotions of hope and dread. That sounds like… Yuno… Could it be that he…?

“Alright, we’ve all gotta pull ourselves together!” Keiichi commanded, and everyone looked at him. “We can’t just mope and accept some kind of terrible fate. We’ve gotta fight!”

“Ah.” A-ya put his hand to his mouth, breathing a deep, calming sigh.

“Y…yeah; you’re right,” Yukiteru agreed, though it seemed he only half-believed it.

“Something is bothering me,” A-ya stated, voice monotone. He seemed like a monotone kind of guy. “Why pit us all against each other, to kill all but one off? There is no prerequisite to this kind of thing. We don’t know anything about this kind of game, so why should we have to listen? Do we really need to kill anyone at all? What if we refused the wishes of the voice and just wandered around? Maybe it isn’t required to kill anyone after all. I mean, why should we?”

“Yeah…I guess you’re right!” Keiichi beamed. “Even better! And if we encounter anyone, we’ll be on defense; it’s as simple as that!”

“And…and maybe we can convince them to not go along with it, too!” Yukiteru fully concurred with this idea, far more confident in it. “If at least half of the people are as nice and logical and sane as you guys, we should be just fine!”

“We’ll…hope for that, anyway…,” A-ya answered, unsure that everyone would be so willing.

“Ah, A-ya’s clever as always, coming up with this kind of thing.” C-ta was smiling, content.

“Uh, one more thing,” Keiichi came in again. His hand went to the back of his head, and he was smiling nervously. “So, uh, what are your guyses names again? I kinda forgot… Sorry… I’m Keiichi.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it,” C-ta answered, warm and friendly. “I’m C-ta, and this is A-ya.” A-ya gave a small nod.

“Um, I’m Yukiteru…”

“So C-ta, A-ya, Yukiteru. Got it! Which way should we head first?”

The four of them looked around. To the south, the park continued on. To the north and the west, there were houses. To the east, the park cut off and became a shopping area. They could make out skyscrapers to the north-east.

“Perhaps the houses are best?” suggested C-ta. “There, we can decide where we’ll stay for the night, then explore a bit. This way we don’t have to worry about that kind of thing later.”

“M…maybe we’ll even find one of those ‘special items’ the Voice mentioned,” Yukiteru added.

“Yeah! We’ve got this!” Keiichi raised his baseball bat into the air. “Let’s go!”

Yukiteru and C-ta raised their hands with an optimistic, “Yeah!” A-ya only nodded.

Notes:

Yukiteru, alas, does not realize his own naivete... I hope you enjoyed meeting the first three groups! I will try to upload the final introductory chapter tomorrow, and then may begin a weekly update schedule.

Chapter 3: Groups 4-6

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“Sebastian, it’s dark.”

“Where are we…?”

Sebastian opened the door to their dark, unlit room to shed some light on the situation. They were in a storage room filled with shelves upon shelves upon shelves, not to mention lots of boxes. “I think that’s a bit better.”

Shinichi went over to the light switch and flicked it on. Ciel shielded his eyes. “Agh--What kind of lighting is this?” He squinted up at the ceiling. “They look like tubes, Sebastian…”

“I can’t say I know myself,” Sebastian answered thoughtfully.

“Hey…what time period are you guys from?” Shinichi asked with a furrowed brow, running a hand through his slicked-back hair.

“Ah…people from different time periods, too? Interesting,” remarked Migi.

Ciel seemed disgusted by the talking hand. “We are from the late 1800’s,” Sebastian responded.

Shinichi nodded in understanding. His right hand was the one that answered, an eye opening on the tip of the index finger. “We are from the early 2000’s.” Its voice was a bit high-pitched, and its tone was precise.

“I guess we’ll have to explain a lot about this place, huh?” Shinichi sighed.

“I can assure you that I will catch onto things quite quickly, and I can most certainly take care of my young master if he’s still confused,” Sebastian responded coolly. “It seems that due to these circumstances, we are at a disadvantage.”

“Maybe so, but you’re you, Sebastian,” Ciel smirked.

Sebastian gave a sly smile in turn. “Indeed.”

“If I may,” Migi cut in, stretching out from Shinichi’s arm towards Ciel. “I think I’d like to better know who the two of you are before continuing. I am also wondering why you were originally standing on a green-colored circle.”

“I think it’s our starting point…” Shinichi rubbed the back of his head, obviously with his left hand.

“Perhaps our team color? It’s relatively simple,” said Ciel.

“Is it perhaps connected to some kind of futuristic teleportation device? Otherwise, how would we have ended up here specifically from our places atop the pillars?” What an inquisitive hand. “And also…” The parasite stretched further and reached the top of a box behind Ciel, picking up an old-fashioned revolver with its two tiny appendages. “I do believe this belongs to you, Ciel, Earl of the Phantomhive estate.”

Ciel accepted the 1800’s-style gun from the not-hand. He was smiling with half of his mouth, eye narrowed. “You’re very proper for a parasite.”

“I learned the entire Japanese language in just a day,” Migi responded.

“About that,” Sebastian said, stepping back into the circle to join the others. “Young Master, I do believe it’s the case that you have never learned Japanese, correct?”

“Correct…,” Ciel responded, squinting at his butler.

Shinichi looked perplexed. “I thought we were speaking Japanese.”

“As did I,” Migi agreed.

“I am positive that I’m speaking English,” Ciel frowned.

Sebastian nodded. “So you are. You are speaking English, and our teammates are speaking Japanese. I understand both languages, but how is it that you understand each other?”

Ciel furrowed his brow and looked at Sebastian.

Shinichi blinked and looked confusedly at Migi.

“Well this is interesting, as well,” Migi remarked. “Perhaps it is some kind of other device that breaks any language barriers that would have made it more difficult for us to proceed.”

Shinichi touched his chin. “Something like a translator?”

“Perhaps so,” Sebastian agreed. “I have no arguments against this. It certainly saves us a lot of time.”

Ciel crossed his arms over his chest. “Speaking of which, let’s hurry up and get acquainted with one another so that we can get started. As polite as it is, you needn’t refer to me as the earl. You can just call me Ciel, for simplicity’s sake.”

“You seem young for an earl,” Migi commented.

“Yes, but I am no child,” Ciel answered coolly. “This is Sebastian, and he is my butler.”

“I shall remain loyal to my young master,” Sebastian vowed with a smile, putting a gloved hand over his chest.

“A demon is what you called yourself, correct?” asked Migi.

“Indeed.”

“Ah. I do sense a very strong power in you. I am glad to have you on my team from the beginning. There is one other that had exceptional power that I could sense. He was also in black. He is someone to be wary of.”

“I agree,” Sebastian said, hand to his chin in thought. “I also sensed it, though it did not feel quite like a demon…”

“Perhaps this is because he is from a different realm,” Migi suggested.

“Perhaps so.”

“However…” - Migi turned his eye around to look at his host - “…I would like to add that there are a few I can sense. There are three others I received a signal from.” He turned his eyes back to face Sebastian and Ciel. “As we are all on the same team, I will let all of you know if one of these people is approaching. I imagine that both of you understand the situation and therefore grasp the convenience of helping one another for now. I am a very logical and self-preserving being. Expect nothing else. I find no purpose in names, but you may call me Migi.”

“Shall I refer to you as ‘it’?” Ciel asked with a frown.

“Whatever you’d like. I really don’t have a preference, though Shinichi refers to me in male pronouns. Shinichi, now it’s your turn.”

Shinichi nodded. “I am probably nowhere near the levels of something like a ‘demon’…” - he eyed Sebastian - “…but I have Migi’s cells dispersed throughout my bloodstream. Because of this I am faster and stronger than a normal human, and I can hear things far easier, too.”

“Well, I’m sure I can handle that,” Sebastian smiled. “Don’t misunderstand. I agree with you, Migi, that we should work together as a group in the beginning. There is also a chance that I’ll need your help in facing that person called ‘Kuroha,’ depending upon how strong he really is. However, I, too, have very calculating ideas on how to handle the situation, and my priority is merely to protect my master and myself.”

“As mine is to protect myself and my host,” Migi agreed.

“Then we are in agreement?”

“Yes, I completely understand.”

Shinichi sighed lightly and looked over at Ciel. He had the cold, stubborn look of someone that was going to make it out of here. He also looked pretty confident. As they all left the storage area and entered the shopping area, Shinichi gazed up at the ceiling, running a hand through his hair once more. It seemed they would at least be a functional group.


 

“I expected something…a bit more impressive,” Tsukiyama remarked, looking around at everything. “A monochrome place that needs to be redone--really…”

Group 5 found themselves in a grey, run-down factory. There wasn’t really anything too interesting to look at. Even the large circle painted under their feet was only a darker grey than the floor.

“Yeah, it is pretty drab, huh…,” Ganta agreed, rubbing the back of his head. The yellowish lights flickered. “Though I guess DW isn’t so colorful on the inside either, so…”

Yoh scoffed.

Kuroha remained eerily silent, looking around and wandering over to some broken machinery.

“Alright; what are all of your abilities?” Tsukiyama inquired of the others. “Impress me!”

“Well, uh, I can control my blood and shoot it at people…,” Ganta told him.

“Really?” I wonder, then, he thought, how good his blood must taste to have this ability… Dolce, I am sure…though of course, Kaneki-kun is priority in this game. I can’t have anyone else snatching him away from me.

“Now, what the hell is a ‘ghoul’? That’s your species, right?” Yoh asked him, crossing his arms. “What’s the difference between you and a human, other than your weird color scheme?”

“I am offended,” Tsukiyama frowned, putting a hand to his chest. He took a deep breath. Ganta did smell particularly lovely. “As a ghoul, I have a natural weapon called a ‘kagune.’” At this, he brought his right hand to his left shoulder, then whipped his arm out to his right side, perfectly executing his kagune activation. A sharp, metallic, purple spiral circled his arm and ended in a sharp point just past his hand. It was pulsing with what looked like red blood vessels branching throughout the new appendage. He smiled at Ganta and Yoh, eyes red, each sclera black. “Impressive, non?”

“Jeez…” Yoh took a step back.

“Wow…” Ganta stared. “That’s…really cool… I’m glad you’re on our side, Tsukiyama-san.”

He closed his eyes, smiling smugly as the kagune shriveled and dissolved. Kuroha was already on the second floor, watching the other three from over the railing. “Well, my weapon is also made from my blood, you see,” Tsukiyama explained. “So you and I; we must be quite similar.”

“Well, I dunno… I’m pretty weak…” He scratched at his cheek, looking away and thinking of all of the times he’d messed up when he needed to be strong.

“Oh, shut up, Ganta. I think I’m the weakest one here,” Yoh grumbled. “And anyway, aren’t I supposed to get a weapon…?” He looked around and went over to what was once a working conveyor belt. There was a good-sized crimson sword waiting for him, his name typed neatly on the piece of paper beneath it. The paper also informed him that this sword worked even against ghouls, Deadmen, and Shinki. “Sweet.” He grinned and swiped it through the air, testing it. “Nice…”

“Yeah, Yoh’s the only one without an ability, I guess,” said Ganta to Tsukiyama.

“I have a badass sword now, though,” Yoh added.

“Can ghouls do anything else cool?” Ganta inquired, while Yoh frowned in the background.

“Well, ghouls are far stronger than humans, and so humans can rarely best them in strength alone. Ghouls are also far faster, especially if they are the speed type. Although…” Tsukiyama paused. Perhaps he’d leave out the fact they had to eat human flesh. For now.

“Although, what?” asked Yoh, eye narrowing.

“Ah, non preoccuparti. It’s nothing. Say, you are Igarashi-san and Takami-san, n’est-ce pas?

“Uh…yeah…,” Ganta answered, confused with the alternating languages. “But you can call me just Ganta.”

“And Yoh is fine for me,” Yoh added as he attached the hilt for his sword to his belt loops.

“Very well, Ganta-kun and Yoh-kun. I hope we will all become well acquainted with one another!”

“Yeah!” Ganta agreed, enthusiastic.

Yoh frowned, uneasy with this ‘ghoul.’ He felt only distrust and suspicion.

“But…” Ganta looked around. “Weren’t there four of us?”

Oui,” Tsukiyama confirmed, and pointed up to the observing figure on the second floor. He seemed to emanate darkness though his eyes glowed yellow. His grin only widened once attention was focused upon him.

“Ah… I can tell, even from here…” His face twisted in amusement, and then he was jumping over the railing… approaching… now, in front of Ganta. “…that you, too, are a ‘monster’…” He laughed lowly, giving off a sense of coldness that made all three of the others want to shiver.

Ganta gave a nervous laugh, taking a few steps back. He went ghost-white as he watched Kuroha lick his lips.

“I can just smell the tragedy you’ve experienced. I hope that your soul is even further tormented here… Such pitiful and pain-filled souls are my favorite…” He grinned. His teeth were sharp as a snake’s.

Ganta could only stare in terror, backing up again and stumbling so he was sitting on the concrete. This guy… He’s worse than Rokuro…or Tamaki…or any of the Undertakers, even… Maybe even…but…maybe not as bad as the Red Man, I hope… Right?

Kuroha gave a small heh before turning to Yoh. “And you, you remind me of a certain little deceiver I know…”

“D…deceiver; what’s that supposed to mean…?” Yoh backed up without meaning to.

“Now is not the time to be so intimidating,” Tsukiyama frowned deeply.

“Oh, no, they shouldn’t be intimidated… Not yet, anyway.” He cocked his head to the side, eyes wide. “They should be rejoicing in the fact I’m not their enemy. Besides…I won’t allow someone like that voice to be my ‘master.’ No, I may kill the participants of this stupid game, but it will be for my own entertainment… not theirs. And I’ll be the one laughing when I find the people running this.”

Yoh and Ganta glanced at one another before looking back at Kuroha. Without taking his eyes off of him, Yoh helped Ganta to his feet.

“W…well…I think I vote Kuroha as leader… What do you guys think?” Ganta asked weakly.

“I’m cool with it,” Yoh answered.

Tsukiyama’s eyes narrowed at the dark android. “I do believe that would be best…” I cannot in any circumstances allow this person anywhere near Kaneki-kun. That is, of course, because I don’t want him to be stolen by the likes of this serpentine rogue.

Kuroha looked at his three teammates. “Perfect. Shall we?”


 

“I can’t believe this…” Shizuo pinched the bridge of his nose. He’d never been angrier in his life… Okay, no, that was a lie; he was just really angry. Maybe he just got angrier and angrier, every day. Ah, fuck.

Izaya did his best to ignore the blond for once and looked around. He, Shizuo, and two others were all situated atop a blue circle. They were on a dirt road directly in front of a traditional-style home.

“Hey!” cried Yato. “Would you look at that, Yukine? It almost looks like Kofuku’s place!”

Yukine shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Izaya broadened his examination: the house behind him was to the south, to the west was only more open land, though he thought he might see buildings in the distance. To the east was the forest, and to the north he could make out skyscrapers somewhere far ahead.

Yato clapped his hands together. “Soo… What do you say? We’re all a group, huh? We’re totally gonna win!” He struck a determined pose, and Yukine watched him dully.

Shizuo just looked at him. “…You sound a lot like that flea bastard over there.”

“Hah? Do I?”

“Yeah. It’s pissing me off.”

“…Oh.”

“Nice,” Yukine remarked.

“Hmm…,” Izaya mused as he walked away from the blue circle the other three stood upon, walking past the house and around it to see what was behind. “Aha… Interesting.” He stared at what was before him: open land with no roads or landmarks. He watched the way the wind didn't stir the grass and dust beyond a certain point. He approached cautiously, arms forward, and touched the invisible wall. It glowed a gentle blue beneath his hands. “So we can’t leave, huh…?” He looked upwards, and smiled. “Hm.”

Izaya was coming back around again just as Yato decided he’d check the house out. He ran in as Izaya came back into the circle. “Looks like we’re stuck here.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” Yukine asked irately.

“Aww, you’re like a tiny version of Shizu-chan; only you’re actually cute.” Izaya ruffled his hair, grinning.

“Hey! Don’t touch me!”

“Leave the kid alone, Flea,” Shizuo growled, taking a threatening step forward.

Izaya lifted his hands in a peaceful gesture. “I wouldn’t hurt me if I were you. I’m on your team, remember?”

“Tch…” Shizuo muttered something under his breath. It had a lot to do with cussing. It also had a lot to do with Izaya.

“I’ll have you know, Shizu-chan, that I’m not going to go along with this game anyhow. I am nobody’s pawn, and there’s no way I’m listening to whoever’s running this show.”

Shizuo grunted. “Yeah, well, I don’t wanna do any of this shit either…”

“Oh!” Izaya grinned. “I would have thought this would be the perfect time for you to let your inner monster loose. Come on, Shizu-chan, you know that once this team disbands, you’ll love the idea of having my head. I’d bet if anyone bothers you out here, they’ll be dead in an instant! Isn’t that right, Shizu-chan?”

Shizuo grew increasingly irritated as the speech went on. At the last nickname, he snapped. “Shut the fuck up, won’t you? If we’re stuck together couldn’t you at least shut up for a little bit so I don’t want to beat your face in as bad? I don’t want to kill anyone, god damn it, so fuck off, you little maggot!”

Izaya was already opening his mouth to retaliate when Yukine shoved the chests of both men away from each other. “Both of you shut up!” He scowled at both of them. “You idiots. If we’re all on a team, we all need to work together. And I swear, if you two don’t stop arguing, I’ll force both of you away from each other as if you were elementary kids in time out! Do you really want that pathetic of a punishment? From someone who’s how much younger than you? I’m fourteen! And I know better! Shut up!”

Izaya and Shizuo looked at one another, then back to Yukine. Shizuo coughed uncomfortably. “…He started it,” said Izaya, pointing at Shizuo.

What?!

Yukine sighed, exasperated.

Yato, meanwhile, popped back out of the household with news. “I found provisions!”

“I cannot believe you’d just pin the blame on me, you childish little shit.”

“I cannot believe you’re saying these things in front of this kid.”

I cannot believe you just called me a kid!

“Guys?” Yato stood there with food in his arms, tilting his head.

“There is no way in Hell I am working with you!” Shizuo shouted.

“Sorry! It seems we’re both stuck with it, Shi~zu~cha~n…

“Oh, fuck this shit.”

“Both of you stop it!” Yukine yelled. “You’re making me mad!”

Yato opened a bag of chips and began to eat them.

“Oho, you think you’re mad; well, this guy here is the best at getting angry, what with the monster he is!”

“I swear to god, Izaya, I will fucking kill you!”

“Stop fighting!

“I bet you would kill me if you could; you’re just too slow!”

“Stop provoking him, damn it!”

Shizuo clenched and unclenched his fists. “Why I oughtta…”

“Oh, don’t even bother with our conflict.” Izaya smiled at Yukine. “You’re already dead anyway.”

“Eh--” That had crossed the line. “What the hell? I’LL kill you, you bastard!”

“Whoops!”

“You’ve got two people against you, Flea!”

Yato waved his hand to get attention. “Say, guys, I think maybe we should calm down or something? Maybe?”

“SHUT UP, Yato, nobody cares, and your scarf is stupid!” Yukine snapped. As if his scarf was even relevant to the conversation at hand.

Yato gasped, dropping all of the food. “My scarf is NOT stupid! You take that back right now!” He stalked forward and joined them in the circle.

Thus, the four argued together.

They sure were off to a great start.

Notes:

The introductory chapters are complete! I shall try and update sometime next week.

Chapter 4: Special Items Pillars

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Kaneki rubbed his nose, staring at the woods before him in confusion. He’d walked into something, but nothing was there. Psyche blinked at him.

“Huh? What is it?” Delic asked, peering from above Psyche’s head.

“It’s…nothing,” Kaneki answered, bemused.

“Huh?” Both Shirazu and Delic were squinting at him. Psyche only tilted his head. He couldn’t see anything either.

They all watched as Kaneki cautiously put his hands out in front of him and touched Nothing. It was a soft, glowing pink wherever he made contact. “Some kind of boundary,” Kaneki said, understanding at last. “Past here must be out of bounds.”

“Agh, we went the wrong way?” Delic asked, grimacing.

“No, we found the way that isn’t right,” Psyche corrected, and Delic frowned before ruffling his friend’s hair violently.

“Uwaaa, Deli, my headphones!” Psyche wailed.

“Well, now what?" Shirazu asked, perplexed.

“Left,” Kaneki said, and began walking in that direction. The others paused before following behind him.

“Hey, um, I have a question,” Psyche said, twiddling his fingers.

“Go on ahead,” Kaneki responded.

“Um…so… We won’t be in the woods at night…will we?”

“What, are ya scared?” asked Shirazu.

“Y…yeahhh… What if…I dunno, what if something bad happens? Like--like Slenderman!”

“Oh, jeez, Psyche, no matter what happens, we’ll be fine,” Delic assured, taking Psyche’s arm in front of him and squeezing lightly.

“B…but--”

Kaneki stopped, turning his head to look at Psyche with a warm smile. “I’ll take care of you. And besides, I’m going to try and make sure we’re out of the woods by nightfall, alright?”

“Ah… alright!” And Psyche was all happiness again. He was easy to please, it seemed.

The four trekked through the woods for quite some time. Delic kept tripping over roots or getting whipped by the branches that Psyche neglected to hold for him until he’d passed. Psyche would giggle and Shirazu would snicker. Delic would laugh it off like the goof he was, anyway, and then Shirazu would be angry when he faceplanted into a pile of mud. Psyche and Delic only laughed, and eventually Shirazu couldn’t help laughing with them.

Up front, even Kaneki was smiling, if only slightly. Right now, things actually seemed quite nice. Even though he hadn’t met Shirazu yet in his own realm, he felt the need to make sure he was safe nonetheless. Psyche was like a child even though he said he was twenty-one, so he felt the need to protect him, too. Delic, on the other hand, was someone he could tell had been through a lot of trials in life, though he continued to bring light to every situation. The way he tried to lighten the mood and help people laugh despite the circumstances reminded him of a certain old friend of his…

In any case, he cared for all of his teammates already.

Kaneki stopped smiling. Why did they all have to be placed in such a game? The whole concept bothered him. None of it made sense… He thought of the others from his realm and wondered what point in time Tsukiyama was from. If he happened to be from before that incident in the church, he’d certainly have to beat some sense into that gourmet… He sighed lightly. There was one other person from his realm, though; a CCG investigator. He’d have to ask Shirazu about whether he recognized him, though the orange-haired boy hadn’t mentioned him yet…

“Hey, what’s that?” Psyche pointed at something glowing purple through the trees.

“Uh, I dunno…,” Shirazu answered, as Delic said, “Beats me.”

“Let’s go see!” Psyche chirped, excited, and he began running through the woods to investigate.

“Psyche, wait!” Kaneki went after him as fast as possible. He didn’t know whether it was anything dangerous. He shot a glance at Shirazu to make sure he was on guard before catching up with Psyche. Kaneki stopped running, skidding just far enough to stand beside Psyche as he inspected a strange purple glowing pillar. Shirazu and Delic slowly came through the trees to see.

“Well, that’s weird,” Delic remarked.

“We don’t know what it is, so we should be careful,” Kaneki warned.

“Uh-huh,” said Psyche as he went to touch it. Everyone else went to grab his arm, but it was too late, as a hologram appeared, startling Psyche and making him yelp and fall backwards onto his butt. Delic, Shirazu, and Kaneki took a step back.

There was a static human silhouette standing before them, the edges tapering off into a dark purple. “Congratulations!” it said in The Voice. “You’ve found one of the ‘special items!’ You’re the first, so good job, all of you!” They all looked at one another. “I will hereby explain to you how these work! The four of you will choose who obtains this item. What the item is depends on who gets it. You will select who gets it based on a touch screen menu that will appear after I'm done talking. Keep in mind your item may not actually be an item. There are a variety of different things you can earn, from a weapon upgrade to an extra life. Choose well!” The hologram glitched and disappeared.

“That…was pretty cool,” Delic admitted.

“Yeah,” Shirazu agreed, mouth still agape.

A futuristic kind of hologram-touch-screen showed up in pink. The letters on it were white. The four gathered around it to read:

<Ken Kaneki> ............... [FastForward/Rewind]
<Ginshi Shirazu> ........... [Ghoul Activation]
<Psyche Orihara>............ [Person. Activation]
<Delic Heiwajima>........... [Weapon Upgrade/Switch Out]

Ghoul Activation?” Shirazu asked, awed. “No fuckin’ way! I ain’t doin’ that, nuh-uh!”

“What does it mean if there are slashes?” Psyche contemplated the ‘items’ of Kaneki and Delic.

“I don’t know if it would mean we would take a chance or if we’d be able to choose between the two…,” Kaneki answered.

“Say…I wonder if yours mean switching around where you are, time-wise,” Shirazu said to Kaneki. “Maybe if you got ‘FastForward,’ you’d become Sassan! That’d be cool… But, I dunno, you’re cool the way you are, too, and I don’t really know what would happen if you got ‘Rewind’ instead.”

Kaneki thought about his black-haired self. He didn’t think that he would be as capable of dealing with the situation now… Not to mention the fact that he didn’t know whether he’d even recognize what was going on. If he went backwards, couldn’t he potentially forget everything about being introduced? On that note, didn't 'Sassan' have amesia? “I don’t wish to risk selecting myself.”

“I ain’t either.”

“What does Switch Out even mean?” Delic asked, scratching his head. “What if I, like, leave? And then someone else comes in for me instead? That would suck… I don’t wanna make anyone else do this instead; jeez… And you guys are cool so, I dunno about that, man… Weapon Upgrade sounds cool, though. I didn’t think I could get something like that, since, y’know, I’m supposed to not have a weapon.”

“Maybe you’d get even stronger?” Shirazu guessed.

Delic shrugged. “Maybe. That’d be pretty weird, though. What else could I do? Break out of the game field?”

“Maybe,” shrugged Shirazu.

“What does a Person Activation thing do, though?” Psyche asked curiously. “Who are we activating?”

“But there’s, like, a dot there,” Shirazu pointed out, pointing carefully at the point right after the word ‘person.’

“Oh, yeah, yeah, I see it,” Delic agreed.

“So perhaps it’s an abbreviation?” Kaneki mused, putting a hand to his chin. “Persona, Personal, Personality, Personalized, Personnel…”

“Well, I don’t wanna get switched out, so should we risk finding out what happens with Psyche’s?” Delic asked, running a hand through his blond-dyed locks.

“Keep in mind, I don’t know that we have to make a selection,” Kaneki pointed out. “And we don’t know for sure that what this thing offers is anything good… We don’t know if it might be a trap or not.”

“I say it should be up to Psyche,” said Shirazu.

“Well…,” Delic shifted nervously, worried for his friend.

“Hm…” Psyche thought about it for some time. “I… I think that I wanna try it!” He grinned. “I love surprises!”

He poked at his name and selected. Psyche was enveloped in light. Shirazu and Delic took a step back at the sudden brightness, while Kaneki shielded his face, straining his eye to see if Psyche was alright. After a few seconds, the light died and Psyche sat on the forest floor, dazed and disoriented.

“Are you…good?’ Shirazu asked, tentative as though Psyche might blow up or something weird like that.

Delic was at his friend’s side immediately, but Psyche only smiled. “Nah, I’m good,” he said. “I don’t think it did anything ‘cept confuse me a lot.”

The other three looked at one another. “What a rip-off,” Shirazu finally remarked.


 

Izaya was the one that got his group to stop arguing in the end. “Isn’t this fighting exactly what the person running this wants?” he had pointed out. “Why should we have to follow their wishes? Now, I understand if Shizu-chan can’t resist his primal instincts to argue with everyone, but I am going to move on.”

As annoyingly as he had put it, he was right. Yato brought the food he had found to everyone’s attention, and now it was all stuffed in a backpack that was slung over Shizuo’s shoulder. Inside the house was also a switchblade that apparently belonged to Izaya. He was pleased to have it back.

After that, they all began making their way down the dirt road. Yato had asked Izaya what he was thinking about, and he only smiled and said he had a plan. Shizuo and Yukine were annoyed, Yato only really disappointed. The delivery god went on about it for awhile before giving up.

Eventually there came a split in the road: one way kept going straight ahead, and the other converged with the one they’d been walking on as if they were walking on an upside-down Y. Basically, there was a way that split off back to the left which essentially led backwards. And Izaya started prancing down it anyway, much to everyone else’s annoyance. Yukine watched the back of the Eskimo jacket get smaller as the informant left.

“What the fuck d’ya think you’re doing?!” Shizuo called after him.

“Finding Easter eggs!” he answered with glee.

“What?” Yukine asked flatly.

“No clue,” Shizuo answered.

“Sounds fun! Wait for me!” cried Yato, running after him.

Yukine sighed. He was stuck with two irresponsible adults, it seemed. He and Shizuo looked at one another, both just as exasperated with the whole situation. They sighed in synchronization, neither speeding up to catch the two running on ahead. Yukine could make out Yato using his god-like physical abilities to catch up with Izaya easily. Yukine frowned deeply. Even though Yato hadn’t broached upon the subject yet, the blond Shinki was increasingly curious about how the hell this guy managed to get everyone here. The Voice, that is. I mean, so they get everyone here using some kind of inter-dimensional device; that was just fine. What didn’t make sense was how they managed to take people like him and Yato here - they were from the Far Shore, they weren’t even supposed to be seen by these people! Yukine was dead, and Yato was some kind of god, so how did this make any sense at all? I mean, it wouldn’t surprise Yukine if none of the other gods noticed when Yato disappeared, but still… Not to mention the fact there were people here that were apparently demons? Like, Ayakashi, or something? What kind of realm was this?

Shizuo and Yukine eventually saw that there was another traditional-style home up ahead. At first they thought that perhaps they had made a mistake and had gone back to where they had started from, but as they approached the household, they found that the blue circle was not painted in the road directly in front of the house. The two blonds entered the sliding doors to find Izaya and Yato inspecting a purple pillar on the ground.

“Why won’t it do anything?” Yato ground his teeth and kicked the rectangular prism, letting out a yelp and holding his foot.

Izaya snickered; Shizuo sighed heavily. Why did Izaya have to be in his group again?

“What is it?” asked Yukine, approaching it. As Shizuo followed after him, the pillar activated in a flash, creating the static-and-purple silhouette hologram that Group 1 had found not too long before this.

“The hell?” Shizuo blinked a few times.

The hologram, who had the same voice as The Voice, explained to them the idea of the special items and how they were the second group to find one, congratulations! Their holographic touch screen was light blue, its letters also white. The four peered at it, Yato and Yukine between both Izaya and Shizuo. Those two were keeping their distance from one another.

<Shizuo Heiwajima> .......... [Extra Recruits]
<Izaya Orihara> ............. [Important Information]
<Yato> ...................... [Weapon Upgrade/Replacement]
<Yukine> .................... [Blessed Upgrade]

“Extra recruits…,” Shizuo frowned deeply. “No way in hell I’m dragging anyone else into this shit.”

“Aa? A blessed upgrade, Yukine - look at that!” Yato pointed out with excitement. “I wonder what that could be!”

Yukine wasn’t as excited by the choices displayed. He was gazing darkly at Yato’s name and his ‘special item,’ unease and jealousy stirring within him. “Yato…”

“Hm? What’s wrong, Yukine?” Yato tilting his head, feigning ignorance.

“What do you think it means by weapon upgrade…or replacement? It’s that Nora girl…isn’t it?”

Yato looked nervous. “…I--”

“It is, isn’t it?” Yukine looked at him, brow furrowed in fear and anger.

“Ah… well, no, of course not! She’s from a long time ago; I told you that—”

“But--”

“Wait, wait,” Shizuo cut in, “what the hell are you guys talking about? Use her?”

“I’m his weapon,” Yukine explained bluntly, jutting his thumb at Yato.

“That’s what a Shinki does,” Yato confirmed, nodding. “They become the weapon of their master.”

“And this loser happens to be my master.”

“Hey!”

Though Yato had snapped at him, Yukine was looking at the items pillar, mouth agape as it burst with light.

“Hah? Bright!” Yato wailed.

“What the hell?” Shizuo growled, shielding his eyes. If only he had his sunglasses…

“Did we take too long?” Yukine asked, squinting through the brightness only to become even more incredulously angry. “You’re kidding!”

“What is it?” Yato asked confusedly, but by that time the light began to die down and the three could see Izaya holding papers in his hand.

Yukine glowered at the Eskimo informant. “He freaking selected already.”

“This’ll be most beneficial to us, anyway,” Izaya beamed, looking smug.

The papers fluttered and fell to the ground as Shizuo grabbed his rival by the collar and yanked him into the air. The air seemed to crackle with the tension. Izaya’s eyes were sly and challenging; Shizuo’s were filled with a fiery rage.

Yato had already backed off from the situation, much to Yukine’s annoyance.

Shizuo’s voice was low and tight, threatening to break into a yell. “If you could just take a few fucking seconds to say what you’re thinking so we can agree as a goddamn team, that would be really…really…great.” He was speaking through gritted teeth by the end of his statement.

Izaya shrugged, casual. “I’m not really much of a team player, y’know? Sorry, Shizu-chan.”

I am going to--

“Guys!” Yukine snapped. “If we keep fighting, we’re never getting out of here!”

Both of them looked at Yukine for a few moments. Izaya smiled. “He’s right, you know.”

Shizuo frowned deeply before dropping the informant, who caught himself gracefully and brushed himself off. “Sorry, Yukine-kun, but Shizu-chan is very snippy and it’s just so easy to get him to—” Shizuo punched him square in the jaw and he flew into the wall, narrowly missing Yato. Yato stiffened and yelped.

“Screw you,” Shizuo growled. “Stop making me wanna kill you.”

Yukine was glad Izaya had been punched, but also a bit surprised by the strength in Shizuo’s punch.

Izaya laughed breathily, emerging from the dust created when he hit the wall as hard as he did. His eyes looked a bit annoyed, this time. “Well, you got me. Great. You satisfied? Let’s continue, then…” After brushing himself off, he went back over to the papers on the floor and picked them up to leaf through them. “Ah, yes, this is perfect.”

“What is it?” asked Yato, peering behind his shoulder. Yukine joined Yato, as curiosity had gotten the best of him. Shizuo crossed his arms, wishing for a cigarette.

Izaya, Yato, and Yukine all looked down at the pages with varying levels of interest. The pages included the names of every participant, it seemed, each sorted by group. Beside each name were three hints that made up who they were. For example, the first page was as follows:

Group 1
Ken Kaneki (19): protect, self-deprecate, monster
Ginshi Shirazu (19): guilt, Father, stupidity
Psyche Orihara (21): joy, fear, light & dark
Delic Heiwajima (21): “Love,” impulsivity, stupidity

Group 2
Seidou Takizawa (22): inferiority, #2, earnest
Shintaro Kisaragi (18): hikkiNEET, hero, intellect

From there it continued on into the second page and so on, making up a total of four pages. Izaya became increasingly interested to the point of looking a bit unnerving to Yukine with his wide smile and ecstatic eyes which looked upon the newfound information with a focused and intense gaze. As Izaya leafed through, he stopped at the fourth page and froze up before closing the packet.

“Hah? What else was there?” Yato asked, trying to open it up.

“Nothing we need to look at right now,” Izaya answered easily, twirling away from Yato so his fingers never so much as brushed against the pages. “And anyway, I might as well try to work on the situation with all of you now, hm?” They all turned to him, surprised he was letting up all of a sudden. “I guess it’s in all of our best interests to hear what I know is our best course of action, am I right?”

“That is, if we even agree with it,” Yukine corrected, crossing his arms.

“Go ahead, Flea,” Shizuo scowled through his words.

“I’d like to know what’s going on,” Yato agreed.

“Alright,” Izaya grinned. He had all eyes on him. Perfect. “Now. None of us have any idea how we got here, not even you, Yato, despite the fact that you’re supposed to be a god.”

“He’s not really all that great a god,” Yukine admitted, looking grumpy.

“Hey! Traitor!”

“Quiet just for now,” Izaya said patiently, putting a finger to his lips. This gesture pissed off Shizuo, but the ex-bartender held his tongue. “So! This supposed god-like figure tries to play a game with us! In this game, they are meant to be the puppeteer, and we, we’re the puppets. I, however, find that idea incredibly distasteful.” He smiled smugly. “How do we spite the so-called puppeteers? We do what they don’t want us to do. They didn’t want us to make alliances, for example, but they are allowed. What does that imply? It implies that all of us fighting and killing one another in this survival game we think we’re in is what this person or these people want! Oh, sure, I’ll help put on quite a show, but I intend to be the one who has the last laugh.

“The point of the matter is we have to culminate as many ‘players’ as possible and try to cancel out the game with the ultimate alliance. There are some people in this arena that will only wish to slaughter everyone here, but those are the ones that would need a group of people to defeat them in the first place! Do you three remember the most menacing of our opponents? I myself would go with the possessed android named Kuroha, the creepy little parasite named Migi, and the demon butler named Sebastian. All of them felt like monsters to me, what do you think, Shizu-chan?”

“Why the hell are you pointing me out?” Shizuo growled.

Izaya shrugged. “It takes one to know one, but to be honest, your monstrous nature lies mostly in the irrationality and unpredictability of your temper tantrums. Their monstrous nature lies in, well, not being physically human in the first place.” He grinned. “You’re a human body that somehow managed to be a monster. You should be so proud, Shizu-chan.”

“Fuck you, Flea,” Shizuo said shortly, fighting hard not to blow up on him. “Don’t call me Shizu-chan. Hurry up and finish explaining.”

“Fine, fine,” he waved his rival off, vague amusement dancing in his cold eyes. “So, the goal is to gather people up from as many groups as possible to try and team up to defeat those three threats. From there, we convince them to rebel against the game itself. We’re trapped inside some kind of barrier that likely goes underground, but there’s no telling how high the boundaries go. If our destination is a city, then we’ll find the tallest building of them all and go up, hopefully to find the exit, or better yet, the one who’s running the game. Or perhaps we’ll find the transmitter for that voice, or a control panel that can get us home. I think…that this is an ideal plan for everyone involved.” His mouth twisted. He knew he was right.

“But why would anyone want to listen to you?” Yukine asked dully. “Like, how do we get other groups in on this?”

“Yeah, you’re kind of a piece of shit that I know I don’t want to deal with,” Shizuo frowned.

“Well, that’s what the papers are for! This,” Izaya said, holding up the pages, “is what’s going to help with some persuasion.”

“So you mean to tell us you’re going to manipulate people like you always do.” Shizuo was getting ready to snap again.

“Hey, hey, hey; calm down, Shizu-chan. It’s all for the greater good, and besides, so long as we’re united under the common cause of wanting to get out of here, it’ll all do just fine! I mean, I’m sure all of you have someone to go back to, like, oh, perhaps…your brother, Shizu-chan.”

Shizuo stiffened, looking even more pissed off. He hate, hate, hated when Izaya was right about things.

“And I’m going to hope you two have a reason to return to wherever you’re from, even though you’re dead,” Izaya smiled at the other two of his group. He indicated Yukine with his eyes. “That is, unless you’ve been completely forgotten,” he added with a condescending smile pointed at Yato.

Both of them became as upright as Shizuo.

“You have no right to poke at the fact I’m dead, either,” Yukine muttered.

Yato looked more shaken than angry. “I…I… No, I’m not forgotten, there’s someone waiting,” Yato protested, though now he seemed increasingly nervous. An image of a smiling girl with brown hair and warm magenta eyes came to mind. How long would pass in his realm in comparison to here? What if he and Yukine were gone too long? What if she forgot them…?

“Well, all of it’s true, isn’t it?” His twisted smile only grew wider. “And I bet all three of you are more fired up than ever to get the hell out of here, whether you like me or not, am I right?”

There was a sense of blank realization, then grudging annoyance. “I…yeah…,” Yukine looked away.

“We have someone to return to, and we have to make it as soon as possible,” Yato said with determination.

“You’re right,” Shizuo bit out, agreeing only with much resentment. “We’re gonna get the fuck outta here…and then I don’t wanna have to deal with you for a long time. You hear me?”

“Oh, yes, Shizu-chan. Loud and clear.”

Shizuo sighed. He figured Izaya would never stop bothering him anyway, but whatever.

“You act as if I want to work with you, Shizu-chan, when it’s quite the contrary,” Izaya glared at the blond, continuing to smile.

“Then we’re in agreement that we’re gonna try not to deal with each other while we’re doing this,” Shizuo said, his mouth twisting in an irritated smile of his own.

“Quite the opposite; we’re going to try and deal with each other as best we can, and in doing that, we’ll hopefully get along just well enough that we don’t ruin the plan or our group as a whole. Understood, Shizu-chan?”

“If you actually call me Shizuo, then I’ll try,” he answered through gritted teeth.

Yato and Yukine had backed off from the ever-building tension, but both unknowingly relaxed when Shizuo and Izaya finally turned away from one another. “Shall we head out?” asked Izaya, folding the papers and slipping them into his jacket pocket.

There were sounds of agreement, and they set back out onto the dirt road, city-bound for sure this time. As they went, the light of the sun began to fade from the sky; night was approaching.

Notes:

Weekly updates will happen on Sundays or Mondays from here on. Thank you for reading!

Chapter 5: Night Talks

Chapter Text

The darkness fell gently but quickly on the first night of this game. The contestants began to prepare for rest; the paranoia had not yet had enough time to settle in for most.

Group 2; consisting of Seidou, Shintaro, Roppi, and Tsuki; remained in the same building as they began in, making themselves comfortable on the eleventh floor. They lay in a room with walls of glass, so they could see if anyone was approaching the front of the building. It was a huge room, and they had found some blankets on the first floor. They had gathered food that Shintaro had found when they all split up to look for items they could use, and had split it amongst themselves for dinner, saving some for breakfast in the morning. Seidou had decided that the best course of action would be to stay where they were until someone passed by. Using his crossbow and Roppi’s machine gun, it would make the perfect ambush. After their first surprise attack, they would move to a different place and decide what to do from there. Remaining here kept them in hiding and could very well give them a head start in this game, if it went alright.

Seidou was on first watch, sitting attentively at the window and watching the street below as the moon began to rise. All he could think to himself was whether he could ever make it back…and also, whether anything that had happened here would even be believable at home. He sighed. He shouldn’t think too much about that yet. Not to mention, the people in his group…he needed to make sure they were safe in this stupid game. He’d do his best.

Roppi and Tsuki were settled right next to one another in the blue-ish moonlight. Tsuki asked his friend in hushed tones, “D…do you think we’ll get out of this…a-alive?”

Roppi shrugged, gazing at the ceiling. “Dunno,” he answered.

Tsuki swallowed. He sensed that his friend didn’t much feel like talking. “W-well, goodnight…”

“Yep.”

Tsuki knew that Roppi probably didn’t think much of this whole idea, and wouldn’t really care too much if he died. Tsuki was terrified that he’d lose Roppi somehow in this arena. He’d just try not to let anything happen.

Roppi, with his eyes closed as he feigned ignorance or slumber, thought only of how troublesome this whole ordeal was.

Shintaro, meanwhile, had settled himself down off to the side, away from Roppi and Tsuki and apart from Seidou, who was on watch anyway. He was troubled by the sight of his friend, Konoha, who was usually an albino android that wore more white and yellow rather than black and grey. He mentioned he was possessed, but Shintaro didn’t really understand what that meant for his friend.

He also was filled with an intense longing: He longed for—electronics. Shintaro wished only to be able to curl up in his own room, door locked and lights off save for the glow of the computer. He wished he had his iPhone, at least. It would give him something to do. Today held far too much stimulation for him to handle - he just wanted to shut everything out and be left in isolation - yes, that sounded nice… He longed for solitude and the comfort of his ever-faithful internet.

So, he curled up underneath his blanket and tried to pretend that he was back in his own home, hiding under the sheets in a locked bedroom that he rarely exited from.

To the south, Group 5 settled down in a small home they had chosen from a line of houses that were all placed on some dirt road. The road stretched off to somewhere none of the group could see on the right; to the left, it seemed to lead to the city. Kuroha the snake-android was supposed to keep watch all night (he did not have to sleep, you see), but Tsukiyama, Yoh, and Ganta all seemed to unconsciously agree that he wasn’t really all that trustworthy. Sure, for now maybe it made sense for the eerie android to protect his group, but what if he got cocky and decided he could go on his own? If he did that, he might just kill them all while they were sleeping.

The house they had chosen had a well-stocked kitchen that Yoh and Ganta both ate well from, happy for the meal. Kuroha informed the others that although he could eat, he did not need to and thus he wouldn’t take anything. Tsukiyama claimed that ghouls needn’t eat as often as humans did, and so he was fine. It wasn’t necessarily a lie.

Ganta, Yoh, and Tsukiyama all settled in with Kuroha perched on the roof. They made an agreement together by Tsukiyama’s decree that the three of them should also each go on watch. Tsukiyama suggested that he take the first shift with an honorable pose of a hand to his heart. Yoh and Ganta agreed with the idea, though neither thought they’d sleep too well in the first place anyway. One settled on the couch (Yoh) while the other went to lie on the bed (Ganta). Ganta closed his eyes and thought of hair the color of snowflakes, while Yoh lie awake and stared at the ceiling, wondering how his sister was doing right then.

Tsukiyama only gazed out the window, straight through his semi-transparent reflection and past the houses across the dirt road. He thought perhaps he could see a kind of woods in the distance, but he couldn’t be sure. All he could worry about was Kaneki. Surely he would be alright on his own, but he couldn’t stop wondering… He knew for a fact he had to keep his group away from his dear Kaneki for as long as possible, or else Kuroha might do something terrible to his long-awaited meal of rare and delectable half-ghoul…now with a luscious and sinful spice of kakuja.

His violet eyes focused on the sky as he fretted over his Kaneki-kun, noticing a wonderfully artistic shade of purple in the darkening firmament. “Très beau…” he whispered to himself as the moon, tsuki, rose, a waxing moon that would soon bloom in all of its natural glory. He, the moon, Tsukiyama, would surely, surely find a way to solve this predicament by the time of the full moon! Non?

Group 1 had reached the northern edge of the woods, where the trees began to thin out and there were many clearings. Psyche seemed relieved that they were mostly out of the woods, and as they sky was beginning to lose its light, Kaneki declared they set up camp. Psyche complained that he was terribly hungry and wanted cake very badly. Delic retorted that he wanted cake too, but they didn’t have anything. Then Shirazu took to grumbling about how he wanted some steak, and Delic went on about chicken wings, and Psyche went on a sweets fantasy binge and talked about all kinds of pastries and candies.

Kaneki remained quiet, and when they all remembered why, they hushed up, embarrassed. Kaneki only laughed at them, good-natured and smiling. “You’re allowed to talk about food in front of me. I’m not hungry right now, anyway. And I don’t mind… I’m more sorry that I can’t find any food for any of you as of yet. You’ll have to bear with me.”

“Nah, man, it’s cool,” Delic waved him off with a lopsided grin.

The four had become a relatively close-knit group in a matter of about eight hours. Kaneki tried to take first watch, but Shirazu insisted he should go for it instead. Kaneki instead lay down nearby Psyche and Delic, curling up and looking at nothing in particular. His thoughts only skimmed over Tsukiyama and how he was doing, as he figured the gourmet would do just fine on his own. He was perfectly capable… He was more worried about the well-being of his own group; his new-found acquaintances that may well be his friends already, the ones he felt the need to protect. Then from worrying about those around him, Kaneki’s thoughts turned to those he wished to protect back in his own realm. How long would he be gone? Would they be alright? He wouldn’t know.

Shirazu, sitting on the stump of some old tree that must have toppled during a storm, watched the starry sky and thought to himself, pretty bored. He wondered about his mentor and about Kaneki, and how they were connected. He wondered why they were so different, and what must have happened to make Ken Kaneki turn into his mentor, Haise Sasaki…that is, if he was even right about all of that. He hoped so, or else he’d feel pretty dumb.

Delic laid on his back beside his childhood friend, already figuring that Psyche would be one of the first to fall asleep anyway, since Shirazu was on watch and it didn’t look like Kaneki was sleeping anytime soon even though he was lying still as a rock. Delic sighed lightly. He was a night owl himself, so he’d take a bit to get to sleep, too. Therefore, Psyche would definitely be the first. Delic clinched his brow, thinking about…well, everything. This whole game was fucked up, but then…that ‘special item’ thing really worried him. Maybe he was just paranoid, but he had a feeling it really did do something to Psyche, and it freaked him out that he didn’t know what it did. Yeah, he was worried. He didn’t want anything to happen to his childhood friend…

Psyche was curled up on his side, eyes closed, pretending to sleep. He wished he could play some music through his headphones; maybe that would help, but unfortunately his iPod hadn’t come with him when he was taken to this place. It was dark, but he knew that Deli would take care of him, and so would Kaneki and Shirazu. Something did change when he pressed that button, and—he hoped it would go away soon.

Group 4 had spent the day in the same store, and planned to sleep there that night, as well. They’d move into the city the next day. Shinichi and Migi had spent a long time just explaining to Sebastian and Ciel the ways of the modern world. Granted, they caught on pretty quickly, but there was still a lot to explain. Ciel would also have to make do with new clothes that were easier to run around in. It would also make him a bit less conspicuous. At first he’d argued, but Sebastian agreed with the idea and so Ciel grudgingly heeded the idea and obeyed it.

The store was stocked well with foods - even refrigerated things! - and though Ciel was highly dissatisfied, he dealt with it alright. Sebastian would be on watch all night, as he didn’t need to sleep. Ciel explained to Shinichi and Migi that if he ordered Sebastian to do something, he simply had to do it - he was bound by a contract he’d made with him quite some time ago. Migi agreed to the plan before falling into slumber, leaving Shinichi to do any further modern-day explaining before bed. With Sebastian on watch, Shinichi and Ciel would rest.

Group 6 settled themselves on the side of the road they walked on - Shizuo was on first watch. Everyone had situated themselves apart from everyone else. Yukine would eventually inch his way over to Shizuo, hoping the possible bartender wouldn’t notice. He didn’t like Izaya, but Yato was someone he didn’t want to sleep near - Yato was the kind of guy that might latch onto you in his sleep, and then never let go. And though at first Yukine’s biggest issue was trying not to fester in the face of all of his self-doubts and his possible jealousy of Nora; his frustration with Yato and that ‘special item’ option he had…that wouldn’t matter once the sun went completely down. And why? He just…didn’t like the dark, that’s all.

Yato knew that little Yukine was afraid of the dark, but didn’t know what to do about it. So he lay awake for awhile, noting that he was inching towards Shizuo and hoping the other blond could lend him some comfort with his presence. He didn’t close his eyes until he saw Shizuo looking at the kid, and then laying the only blanket the group had over him. Shizuo patted Yukine awkwardly, and Yato smiled, rolling over and closing his eyes.

Izaya ended up being the one who was most restless that night. For some reason, all he could think about was what was on the last page of that information sheet. Of course he had expected whoever was running this show to try and throw him off, and of course he expected his own name on the sheet. There was one word on that page, however, that had managed to throw him: beside his own name was the word lonely.

Staring at the stars with bitter eyes, questioning the idea heavily, he decided the concept was far too human. His mouth twisting in bitter amusement, he closed his eyes. Of course, the person running this was having their own fun. All the more interesting of them, of course. He couldn’t wait to meet them.


 

Group 3 had made themselves at home in a well-stocked house near where they had appeared in this strange game. The four of them - Keiichi, A-ya, C-ta, and Yukiteru - had all gotten comfortable on the floor of the living room, near the only door in the house, which they had locked along with the windows. Keiichi was snoring lightly - the kind of snore that was really just loud breathing - and his bat was set against the far wall. He was spread out, with his arm over his eyes. Obviously he was resting well.

C-ta lay still as a rock nearby A-ya, and A-ya lay on his back, eyes closed. Yukiteru lay on his side, looking at the ceiling, staring through the dark, or watching the rise and fall of A-ya’s chest. This game felt all too real to him, whether it had sunk in for the others yet or not. Something like a battle royale? Ah, he was just being thrown into the same thing as before, wasn’t he? The game involving the Future Diaries was the same way. At least there were teams in this game, he guessed. He sighed. “I guess I’m the only one awake, after all,” he breathed, closing his eyes. He wanted to go home, but then he’d have Yuno to worry about, his ever-faithful stalker. Not to mention the battle royale he’d have to deal with there. Regardless of A-ya’s plan, he couldn’t help but be at least a little bit worried…

“…No, not the only one.”

Yukiteru jumped, eyes flying open. Which one had answered? Certainly not Keiichi. “I…is that A-ya?” Yukiteru asked tentatively.

“Yeah. Couldn’t sleep either?”

“Yeah…” Well, at least he wasn’t alone after all. He was admittedly relieved. He just didn’t want the quiet to come back. “Why can’t you sleep?”

“Don’t know. Thinking too much, I guess.”

Yukiteru subconsciously nodded, even though it was dark. Ah, darn it, this guy was just as not-talkative as he was…! “About what?” Yukiteru tried again, biting his lip. Hoping he wasn’t bothering him.

He heard shifting, as if A-ya had shrugged. “Do you know any urban legends?”

“Urban legends? Like…?”

“Like Mearry-san. You mentioned your phone earlier, and that’s what I thought of. I thought of Mearry-san, and the Answer Man.”

“Mearry-san…and the Answer Man?” Yukiteru repeated. Ah, good, A-ya was keeping up conversation too, now. “I haven’t heard of them, I don’t think…” He paused. “What are they?” he added, fearing they’d lapse back into silence.

He’d made the right choice. “Ah? Well, Mearry-san…that’s a fun one. They’re stories, you see; legends. Obviously.” The monotonous tone of A-ya, though still flat, was becoming filled with some kind of hidden excitement. “So, this one originally goes something along the lines of ‘There once was a girl.’ Yeah? Well, this girl was just moving into a new neighborhood, and she decided that, since she was starting anew, she should act a little more like a big girl. And, like big girls are supposed to, she threw out her favorite doll from when she was a child.”

“That’s sad,” Yukiteru remarked, furrowing his brow.

“Maybe…the doll definitely wasn’t very happy with her.”

“Oh.” He was realizing where this was going.

“One day, when the girl was home on her own, she received a telephone call. She answered, and a voice came in her ear: ‘I am Mearry, now…I am at the garbage dump.’ The girl, of course, disregarded the call. But then, soon after, the phone rang again. ‘I am Mearry…now I am on a dirt road.’ The girl tried to think to herself that this was only someone trying to mess with her, but as the calls continued, she got more afraid. The voice, ‘Mearry,’ seemed to be getting closer with each call. Eventually, she said she was at the front door.”

“Oh no…,” Yukiteru whispered. He was coming to find he didn’t like scary stories very much.

“Panicked, the girl went to the front door, and opened it—”

“Oh god - why would she do that?”

“—But nothing and no one was there.”

Yukiteru sighed in relief.

“The girl sighed. It must have been a trick after all. There was nothing to worry about. She closed the door, unconcerned even when the phone rang once more. She walked to the telephone, indignant. She picked it up, but before she could say anything, she heard its voice…: ‘I’m right behind you.’”

There was a pause before Yukiteru whimpered. “Scary… That’s the end? What happened after?”

“It’s presumed that she died a mysterious death; the autopsy revealed no results of how she may have been killed. They called it a freak accident.”

“That’s…too scary for me…”

“The scary part is what makes it fun,” A-ya answered, and somehow Yukiteru could tell he was actually enjoying himself. Despite the anxiety this person had just caused, it made Yukiteru happy. “Apparently the legend has evolved over time, and now Mearry can contact people through texts, or even through twitter.”

“Uuu, I don’t like that…” Yukiteru heard A-ya laugh, if slightly, and the tightness in his chest released. He found himself smiling. “What about the other one?”

“Ah? The Answer Man? That one’s more of a game,” A-ya explained.

“A game?”

“Yes, you need ten people to play…and ten cell phones. Each person must have the cell number of the person to their left. They all call the person to their left at the same time - everyone should get the beeping that means the line is busy. However, one person in the group will hear someone pick up on the other end. This is the Answer Man. You can ask him anything, and he will answer. However, after you ask, he asks you something in return. If you answer incorrectly, or don’t answer at all, a gnarled hand reaches from the screen and snatches away a part of your body.”

“Oh, jeez… That’s not fun at all.”

“Sure it is. The legend goes that the Answer Man is the ghost of a child that was born deformed. He had no arms and no legs, no torso. He was only a head. So now, as a ghost, he’s been trying to collect body parts in order to become a complete human.”

“Really… You sure know a lot about legends, huh?”

“It’s my hobby,” A-ya answered, sounding a bit pleased by the compliment. “C-ta and I are in the occult club at school, from our world. Well, it’s not an official club, it just kinda happened…but we gather occasionally in the abandoned music room with two other people.”

“Oh, so…you’re all friends…?” Yukiteru reevaluated his life. He didn’t have any…I mean, unless he counted Yuno, but no way… What, Kurusu-san, maybe? He was just a police officer that wanted to help him out… I mean, there were all the students that had helped him out in the terrorist incident, maybe, but…

Before he could dwell on it too much, A-ya answered. “Ah…I don’t know that they’d be considered ‘friends’… We get along, I guess. I’m not sure why we all gather the way we do. I mean, C-ta is someone I’ve known since childhood, so…”

“Really? You two must be close, then, right?”

Yukiteru listened to A-ya shift. “I guess so,” he answered.

“Huh?” Yukiteru wondered about it, but decided not to ask. “Well, it’s okay not to have many friends… I mean…” How much should he say? Admitting the fact he had no one was kinda embarrassing. How do people normally talk to one another? What was a normal conversation like? This was so hard…! It had been going alright before… He thought so, anyway… “I mean, I’m more of an observer, myself, so…” He swallowed, nervous.

“I’m the same way.”

Yukiteru stared through the dark. Really? Hope stirred his insides.

“I’m the kind of person no one notices,” said A-ya. “I go out of my way to make sure of that. I like it that way.”

“Really? I’m the same way! Only, it’s just that I’m…too scared to interact…” He was so excited by the connection he gave something away! Ah, what would he say? Surely he thought he was a loser…

“Ah, so it’s that kind of thing. There are a lot of people that way. For me, I just like remaining hidden so I can perform my favorite hobby.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

“Spreading rumors.”

“…Ah…” How was he supposed to take that? Wasn’t that a bad thing? Right?

“Though I guess I also prefer not being noticed because that’s how it’s always been. The only one that talked to me even in elementary was still C-ta. For the most part, he speaks for me.”

“Ah… Yeah, I get it. Only…no one really speaks for me. I bet people know who I am, but I’m always on my phone, so…”

“My phone is a constant,” A-ya agreed.

“Really? You too? What do you do on it?”

“Look up legends. Spread rumors. Check the news. Write journal entries.”

“Journal entries?” Yukiteru was getting increasingly excited. Was he going to make a friend? “I keep a, uh, journal on my phone, too.” Suddenly ‘diary’ sounded so lame, but he didn’t care in the least.

“Really.”

“Yeah! And, and, in my world, well, I used to use my imagination a lot to talk to people, and there was this god of time and space I created named Deus ex Machina, and he decided to ‘grant me the future.’ The next day, my journal entries were already in for that day, and the day after. I knew the future! Isn’t that cool?”

He heard A-ya roll over, and when next he spoke, his voice was closer. He was definitely interested. “Deus ex Machina, huh? And he gave you the power to read the future?”

“Kinda… I mean, I don’t have my cell phone with me, so I can’t now, but…” Yukiteru shifted uncomfortably.

“So perhaps he was more than just imaginary…? Or, you believed in him strongly enough that he became real, as with other legends…” A-ya seemed thoughtful.

“Well, I remember he told me, ‘I am a god, so what makes you say I can’t reside in your mind?’ Or something like that.”

“A god who can reside in the realms of someone’s own head! Of course… This’ll make for a great legend, a great new rumor. For when I get back. I’ll have to tell the others.”

“Yeah, that’d be cool,” Yukiteru grinned, and then remembered that that meant they’d be worlds apart again, and he’d be alone. Again. And in a different battle royale. He drew his lips into a thin line, thinking on this. “Hey, um, A-ya?”

“Hm?” Monotonous as always.

He was planning on asking whether he was lonely, too, but decided against it. He bit back the question. “Ah, um, what’s your family like?” he asked instead.

“My family…? My parents are rarely home. They’ll leave for weeks at a time, since two years ago when they got busier.”

“Really… My parents divorced two years ago, actually. I live with my mom, but she’s always away for work, too. I rarely see my dad… But when my mom is home, she makes the best hamburger steak ever.”

“Ah—?”

“What is it?” Yukiteru was suddenly afraid he’d said something wrong. What if he was a vegetarian?

“No, just… Hamburger steak is my mom’s specialty, too.”

Yukiteru blinked. “Huh. Really?”

“Yeah… Hm, you’re from the Realm of Future Diaries…right?” A-ya asked.

Yukiteru was surprised that A-ya was the one asking things now, but was glad he was nonetheless. It meant he wanted to talk, right? “Um, yeah, why?”

“You’re from earth, though, right?”

“Oh.” Yukiteru blinked. “Yeah. I’m guessing you are too?”

“Yeah, we are.”

“So…how old are you, anyway?” Yukiteru asked, curious.

“Ah, I’m fourteen.”

“Me too,” Yukiteru grinned. “I guess we have a lot in common, huh?” A tentative question. He laughed nervously.

“Yeah…,” A-ya agreed.

“So…” Yukiteru licked his lips, nervous. “Um, I know you don’t know about those people from your club back home, but… Do you think maybe we could be friends?”

A-ya didn’t answer for a few seconds. Yukiteru was sure that he’d messed up in asking such a question, and was ready to apologize when A-ya said, “Sure, I guess so.”

Yukiteru released his breath, smiling a bit. Relief and joy flooded him, and now at last he could feel drowsiness settling in. “I think…I might actually be able to sleep now. What about you?”

“Hm, maybe,” he admitted. “Goodnight, then. Try not to listen to any unexplained creaks.”

“Um, thanks… Sleep well.” He rolled over, as did A-ya, and they closed their eyes, waiting for sleep to take them. Yukiteru felt a kind of warmth in his chest at the idea of a friend. It was nice. As for A-ya, he wasn’t so sure, but that was okay for now.

C-ta, who had been awake during the whole exchange, opened his green eyes, doubt circling his thoughts and jealousy stirring in the pit of his stomach.

Chapter 6: First Battle

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Roppi was the one on watch early the next morning when he saw movement on the streets below, eleven stories down, at ground level. He didn’t recognize any of the figures as anyone he knew, but he was sure he wasn’t hallucinating the shapes. He checked his scope - yes, now he could see them better. The teenager that had the freaky hand and the duo from the 1800’s. Those two in particular reminded him of certain people he knew, namely Prince Hibiya Subarashii (another one of Izaya’s alternate personalities), and then his butler, Shitsuo Heiwajima (one of the ‘Shizu-chan’ alternates). Now, Roppi very much didn’t like Hibiya. He also knew because of Hibiya that in order to get to this kid with the eye patch, he should probably get the butler first.

Roppi set down his machine gun, nice and careful, before going to wake up Seidou. As the leader of the group, he should be the one giving the orders--or something like that.

“Ah, time to get up? What is it, is someone coming?” Seidou rubbed at his eyes.

“Yeah. That group with the parasite and the butler.”

“Ah…” Seidou shook his head before getting to his feet. He woke up Tsuki and Shintaro in turn. Shintaro was the one harder to get moving, but once Seidou had convinced him that he was neither his mother nor his computer virus (whatever that might mean), he was up.

“Alright, so the element of surprise is key here,” Seidou explained. “Shintaro, what do you remember about the group with the parasite?”

“Huh?... Oh, that one…”

“Yeah, can you name every detail you can think of? Disregarding looks. Or is it only visual memory?” Seidou figured that as long as he had a photographic memory on his side, he might as well utilize it to its fullest potential. Plus, it might help Shintaro feel more useful.

“No, no, I’ve got it.” Shintaro sobered up and looked a bit more serious. Even Roppi listened to him intently. “Okay, so the group with the parasite is Group 4. Group 4 had Shinichi Izumi and Migi from the Realm of Parasytes… Migi was the parasite. Neither of them were allowed weapons, so they probably have abilities of their own. Migi is on Izumi’s right hand. The other two were from the Realm of Demon Butlers - the ones that look like they’re from 1800’s England, or something? The butler’s apparently a demon, so we should be careful. That was Sebastian Michaelis. Ciel Phantomhive was the kid. Michaelis wasn’t permitted a weapon, so I’m gonna guess that being a demon... uh... he's pretty strong. Ciel’s probably just a normal kid.”

Seidou smiled. “That was awesome! Thanks! So!” He turned to the group. “Is there anything else to add?”

“Ah, yeah,” Roppi came in. “So, I’m the kind of person that can read people…even if I don’t really want to. So I could give insight into what they might be like.”

Seidou nodded. “Shoot.”

“So…we can’t go for Ciel straightaway, even if he’s probably the weakest. If that Sebastian guy is his butler, he’s probably his butler for a reason. Like the typical, ‘Give me your soul and I’ll grant your wish’ kind of thing. But if that’s true, then that demon’s going to be protecting Ciel, no matter what. The Ciel kid’s gonna be real confident in his butler’s abilities, so he won’t really think that he has to do much. The Shinichi guy probably doesn’t want to fight, so he’ll only fight if we attack him. The parasite will probably go the most logical path in regards to his own safety.”

Tsuki tugged at his scarf nervously.

Seidou nodded. “Thank you, Roppi… So basically, we’re going to be going against a group that has three really strong people, and one that’s protected. The one protected is the jackpot, like the king in chess. So Roppi, you have the strongest weapon - use that to distract the butler.” Roppi nodded. “Then I, with my crossbow quinque, will aim some warning shots at Shinichi and the parasite. I’ll aim for things like the streetlights below so they have to start dodging. If Shinichi doesn’t want to fight, and the parasite is all about self-preservation, then they should make a break for it, or put their priority on dodging. Tsuki and Shintaro, you two will go down the stairs and go for Ciel from below. Try to be as discreet about it as possible so that the butler doesn’t change course from Roppi. Don’t kill the child, just capture him and take him hostage. That way he won’t get harmed, but we’re more likely to be able to get the butler. Understand?”

The other three nodded in consent.

Seidou smiled. “Alright! Let’s try this. Are we ready?”

There was a chorus of unsure or unenthusiastic agreements.

Seidou sighed. “Well, let’s do our best, okay? We’ve all got people we want to protect, and people we want to go home to. Right? So let’s give it our all, for their sake and for the sake of ending this stupid game! What do you say?”

Roppi nodded, more determined. “I don’t like being toyed with.”

Tsuki glanced at Roppi. “I-I’ll do my best!”

“I…yeah!” Shintaro agreed awkwardly.

And so, they went to their positions: Roppi and Seidou prepared themselves at the small section of the floor that allowed the windows to open, cocking their weapons, ready to go. Tsuki and Shintaro went down the stairs, meanwhile, preparing themselves for their sneak attack.

Roppi would be the one who made the first move. He closed one eye, peering into the scope of his machine gun. It was pointed directly at Sebastian Michaelis’s head. In this moment, Roppi was a sniper.

His finger tightened around the trigger - here it was; they were in front of the building, the time to strike was now. He only had a millimeter left, and the gun would be firing. Roppi had decided he’d pour all of his hatred and precision into this; yes, that was the best way to go about it. The butler seemed to be talking pleasantly, looking away from the scope. But the butler’s smile faded, and his head turned. He was looking at Roppi. Sebastian smiled. Roppi pulled the trigger.

Rapid fire, the bullets had been right on target, but the butler was gone. Momentarily panicked, Roppi pulled his eye from the scope to find Sebastian was right in front of the window, just a black blur before all of the windows had shattered - Roppi tried to cover his face with his arms, but something hit him with a blow that he knew must have made his arms break. He couldn’t even tell whether he cried out. So fast, the world was spinning, his body being yanked around and now he could swear he was flying, soaring - he could see the building a maybe fifteen meters away and he was so confused, then falling, he was falling and he realized that maybe he was going to die…

He closed his eyes, arms numb from the agony. His face felt wet, the wind was strong. He felt himself being lulled as he fell - surely this wasn’t such a bad way to go. The sounds around him were muted, time slowed; he was floating midair.

He’d wanted to die for awhile now, anyway… Was this what it felt like…?

Then, “Are you okay?” A voice right next to him. His eyes opened. That Shinichi boy was there. Everything was too bright. Then the sound came back all at once, an explosion. Shattering glass, yelling, footsteps. What just happened?

Roppi opened his mouth, but couldn’t answer. Why was he in this guy’s arms? Did he catch him?

Why would he do that?

“Here,” said Shinichi, running him over to an alleyway and dropping him off.

“Shinichi, this is unnecessary,” said a voice from his hand.

“There’s no reason for him to die.” He looked at Roppi and smiled apologetically before disappearing again. Roppi stared blankly, the throbbing feeling returning to his arms. His head hurt; it was too warm. He tried to grasp what just happened, but failed to.

Seidou had watched, shielding his eyes from the shattered glass from the windows and looking on in terror as he watched Sebastian smash his gloved fist into Roppi’s arms - the snapping sounds were terrible - and then grabbed him by the shirt, swinging him around and tossing him down to the streets below.

“Ah,” said the butler, and Seidou fearfully turned his crossbow towards him. “It seems humans got even more creative with their weapons in the future, hm? How troublesome…” Sebastian smiled sweetly at Seidou. “Now, what should I do with you?”

Meanwhile, Tsuki had heard the crash of the windows along with Shintaro, and had grabbed the jersey-wearing internet-addict before running faster than he had ever gone before down the stairs without so much as stumbling, not even once. He reached the door just in time to see Roppi soaring overhead, then plummeting, he was plummeting towards the ground and from that height he surely couldn’t--

Tsuki was filled with fear, then anger. There was no way he’d be letting anyone hurt his best friend. No, he couldn’t be… Every emotion possible welled up inside of him, filling and spilling until he burst, screaming his friend’s name before running to the nearest streetlight and ripping it from the ground, too blind with rage to notice as Shinichi jumped into the air and caught his friend.

Shintaro watched the whole thing in awe, frozen. What now? Tsuki would try to hurt Sebastian, but obviously at this point that wouldn’t work. Seidou was probably being targeted by the demon as well. What now? What now? Well, what could he do? What were his options? Alarm systems, water, no, he wasn’t that kind of demon - an old fire extinguisher - was the one they passed old enough to explode if he threw it? Could he get it in time? Could he, the weak Shintaro, throw it and actually have it hit? Could he throw it at all? Could he even pick it up? No. Think. What now? He had scissors. The plan was to secretly take Ciel hostage. That wouldn’t work. Distraction. Distraction. That guy, Shinichi, didn’t want anyone to die. What now?

All of this and more went through his mind at top speeds, eyes flicking around at the possibilities - a plan! Within three seconds, and an 83% possibility of its success. Go, go, go!

His feet were pounding on the ground, he could swear he’d never tried so hard to move so fast in his life. He was aiming for Ciel. Aiming for the kid. He was only a meter away. “Sebas--!” Shintaro clamped his hand over his mouth. Adrenaline coursed through him, he was buzzing with energy, he was a bee, he hated bees, don’t think about it. Hand clamped on the kid’s mouth, he pointed his scissors at Ciel’s throat. Tsuki was in the air, swinging his street pole at the demon even though he appeared to be dancing around the attacks easily. He couldn’t see Seidou from here. His ears were ringing. He couldn’t hear anything. Ciel was squirming in his arms.

And then, screwing his eyes shut, he lifted the scissors, then brought it down to stab Ciel right in the esophagus with all of his force. He imagined himself stabbing through skin, muscle, through his throat down to his spine. And with all his force put into it, just as he planned—he was stopped. He opened his eyes, relieved. The butler suddenly had a hold of his wrist. Shinichi was just behind Shintaro. Perfect.

Tsuki!” Shintaro cried out, as loud as he could. “Get Seidou out of the building! Find Roppi!” Tsuki, standing confusedly at the edge of the eleventh floor, seemed to give a nod before disappearing. Shintaro looked directly at Sebastian. The butler’s eyes were red, pupils slits. Shintaro swallowed. “Let me go, and I’ll let Ciel go.”

Ciel forced Shintaro’s hand away from his mouth. “Hah! You think you can threaten my butler? It won’t end well, I’ll warn you.”

Shintaro closed his eyes. He thought of his hero, the hero that flew out the window like her paper cranes and hit the pavement below. Yes, his hero that had fallen to her death, and his friends who had all disappeared somehow. He hated being the last one standing… His eyes opened. If I’m the sacrifice, that’s fine. I just have to stall. “I won’t just give up like that.” What did he have to go home to, anyway? He was a lame virgin hikkiNEET with no life. In the end, he didn’t have anyone waiting for him but his mother (who he had disappointed endlessly in his refusal to leave his room for two years straight), his sister (who was going far in life anyway on her own - she was an idol, for God’s sake), and a computer virus that made fun of him all the time. That group he’d just met, would they really remember him? He doubted it.

And with that, he decided. “I won’t give up like that, so go ahead and try to convince me otherwise!” How long can I actually stall? There’s no way I can fight these guys - I suck…

“You’ll be an easy one to pick off,” remarked Sebastian, tugging on the bottom of his white glove as if it weren’t already all the way on his hand.

“You’re a very stupid human,” said a high-pitched voice in his ear. Shintaro stiffened as he saw a single eye stretching to greet him at his right. “Unless you are trying to protect your group, which is something that is quite unique to the human species. I could never understand it myself.”

“Curious, isn’t it?” Sebastian chuckled.

“However, even that tactic is flawed from the perspective of someone that wants to protect. Because if they wish to save you, wouldn’t everything have been for nothing?”

“I think we should let them all go,” said Shinichi.

A pause.

“What?” Ciel asked, surprised. “Why?”

“Shinichi,” the voice of the parasite seemed to frown.

“They’re backing off, aren’t they? I never agreed to this game…” He breathed deeply. “They never posed much of a threat in the first place.”

Shintaro tensed even more. Would he be spared after all?

“My priority,” said Sebastian, “is ensuring my young master’s and my own return to London, in our own time.”

“Then how about this time we just let them off with a warning?” suggested Shinichi. He was all business. “You know and I know that if they were to try again, they’d all be dead if you actually tried. You’re a demon, after all.”

“Ah, I suppose that’s true, but it’s all up to my young master…”

“Hmph.” Ciel shifted in Shintaro’s arms. “First of all, won’t you let me go?”

“Uh--” Shintaro had forgotten how to answer. His ‘cool moment’ was gone. He’d forgotten the required physical actions for real speech. He didn’t budge.

“Tsk…” He squirmed, and Sebastian lifted Shintaro’s arms. Shintaro didn’t fight this. “Anyhow, I suppose that’s fine.” He smirked at the hikkiNEET. “You can let your group know that you’ll all be dead next time you cross paths with us. Your attempt to be noble and sacrifice yourself, however clumsy, has its merit. You can go. But the four of you should hurry, or else I may just change my mind.”

Shintaro stared dumbly, and nodded. He made no move to leave.

Shinichi touched his shoulder. “I hope we don’t meet again; not in this circumstance. Good luck.”

He nodded again and bowed hastily. After stammering a thank you to them, he ran for it. When he came across his group, he just told them to run. Just run. So Tsuki picked up the dazed Roppi, and he, Shintaro, and Seidou made a break for it, taking an erratic path through the city so as to throw them off, hopefully, if they did decide to come after them. Mission failure; their ambush did absolutely nothing but endanger them all and get Roppi injured.

They ran through alleys and backstreets, around buildings, passing street medians and broaching upon the shopping district before looping around and taking refuge in a very long building. “Here should be fine, right?” Shintaro gasped, struggling for air.

“Y…yeah…” Seidou agreed.

Sanctuary. They rested.

Notes:

I hope y'all enjoyed this week's chapter. Ah, Group 2. Silly fools, thinking Sebastian Michaelis would go down with a mere ambush. But at last, the action begins!

Chapter 7: Refuge

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Keiichi Maebara began to act strangely beginning day two of the game. Maybe not everyone noticed, but C-ta definitely did. C-ta was paying very close attention to Keiichi and Yukiteru. This was a survival game, after all… He was only keeping an eye on them just in case. Because even though they had gone with A-ya’s plan of not fighting anyone, they could change their mind - it could be a ruse. So, he’d just pay extra attention, that’s all… And say, shouldn’t he also protect A-ya from becoming too close to either of them at all? Because, in the end, even if they did make it out of this ridiculous game alive, they were from other realities! And then A-ya could never see them again. So A-ya would be sad, and C-ta didn’t want A-ya to be sad. Therefore, C-ta didn’t want him close to them. A-ya bonding with Keiichi and/or Yukiteru equaled A-ya experiencing grief. It was as simple as that!

Not to mention - why should A-ya become close with anyone so quickly in the first place? That wouldn’t make sense, would it? Especially not something like becoming ‘friends’ that quickly - no, not if he didn’t even consider B-ko or D-ne his friends. Not if A-ya hesitated the way he did when he said that he, C-ta, was his friend.

Why did he hesitate?

What a long pause that had been. And his answer had been “Yeah, I guess.”

“I guess”? What did that mean? Was A-ya not sure?

C-ta remembered feeling growing doubt towards himself the moment A-ya spoke those words last night. He remembered a very distinct fear, but…C-ta knew that A-ya cared for him like he cared for A-ya. Because A-ya was just hesitant, that’s all. He didn’t know how to express himself. He was shy.

If he’s shy…well, he sure got along with Yukiteru pretty well last night.

But that’s only because they started talking about urban legends, he assured himself. Once A-ya talks about those things, he’s on a roll. I know the excited look he gets in his eyes, no matter how lacking his expression is…

Even though they do have a lot in common…

But that kind of thing, commonalities in people definitely do not equal closeness. Otherwise, there wouldn’t be the saying ‘opposites attract,’ right?

C-ta wasn’t worried about A-ya and Yukiteru, though, not at all. (Definitely not…) What he was worried about was Yukiteru hurting A-ya, be it directly or indirectly. C-ta was always cautious in that way, and he felt the same in regards to the cheerful and enthusiastic Keiichi. You see, C-ta was a very, very friendly person, but he rarely grew ‘close’ to anyone. Though he was nice to everyone, it definitely did not mean he liked them. He was certainly…coming to… not-like Yukiteru, that’s all it was.

As for Keiichi, well, he was fine the next morning, when they all got up and had breakfast from the well-stocked fridge. The four of them decided that they all explore for a bit on C-ta’s suggestion. C-ta also suggested that perhaps they should explore the area in twos - this way, they’d cover more ground (and A-ya would be away from the two of them, of course).

“Yeah, let’s do it!” Keiichi grinned.

Yukiteru bobbed his head in agreement and looked at A-ya. “Hey, um…”

C-ta could feel his blood running cold. He wouldn’t ask A-ya to be his partner, would he? No, that’s not the question. Would A-ya say yes? Of course he wouldn’t…

But Yukiteru did ask, and A-ya just nodded at him and said, “Sure,” completely casual about the whole ordeal. C-ta felt himself begin to float. A-ya wouldn’t have, he couldn’t have, would he? No way; A-ya…

Everything was too bright. He was watching everything as though it were a play. The two groups separated. C-ta was with Keiichi. Over time, he came to himself again, thoughts circling back down to earth - ah! Maybe A-ya just feared hurting his feelings (even though A-ya doesn’t really know how not to). Obviously that was the case! Even though A-ya, who was a pessimistic person, seemed like the kind of person who was apathetic, he was really that kind who couldn’t hurt a fly, the kind that would be hurt too if he hurt anyone else. Surely that was the case. He was just being the kind A-ya who didn’t want Yukiteru hurt, that was all.

And as these thoughts calmed him, he no longer felt disembodied. Coming to realize that Keiichi was having a conversation with him, he properly tuned back in, no longer on autopilot. He discovered that most of what had happened after A-ya had agreed to go with Yukiteru just couldn’t be recalled in his head, as though it had been blurred out. He thought maybe he was just thinking too hard about it all.

“…y’know? I think it’s all starting to sink in that we all might die, whether we try to convince everyone not to kill each other or not,” said Keiichi to C-ta. “Since…some people here might want to? I guess? I don’t know what I’m saying. But, you saw the people we’re up against too, and not all of them look too reasonable. Some of them weren’t even human… I know what demons are, and that kind of monster won’t be easy to convince, don’t you think? And for something like ‘ghouls’ or ‘Shinki’ or anything else…I don’t even know what to expect. I guess what I’m saying is maybe I’m a little worried after all…”

“Ah, that’s expected… I’m a little worried myself,” C-ta admitted. Yeah, the realization that people might be out to kill him (or A-ya!) was one that hadn’t completely sunk in yet. He’d been a little bit…preoccupied. But now that it had been re-brought to his attention, he found himself a bit shaky. Ah…he had to calm down again. Surely killing or dying wasn’t something that was completely necessary… As long as he and A-ya were safe, it was fine…

“Say, can I ask you something?” Keiichi asked, suddenly all seriousness.

C-ta looked at him - Keiichi was looking at the ground, brown hair shrouding his eyes. His baseball bat was resting on his shoulder; he gripped its handle with his left hand. “Of course,” C-ta smiled.

Keiichi slowed his walking and looked to the side. “I, ah… Am I the only one who thinks…that maybe it’s a little bit strange that A-ya would say something like that, in the very beginning? Tell us not to fight anyone? I mean, you’re his friend…”

C-ta tilted his head. What, exactly, was he suggesting? “I didn’t find it strange at all, Keiichi.”

Keiichi stopped walking and looked at C-ta, blinking in surprise. Perhaps his response had come out a bit harsher than he had intended. “Ah—aha…” He laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah, of course you’re right… I’m probably just…over-thinking this a bit too much… That’s all… Sorry, C-ta. I guess I’m just a little stressed out.”

“Oh, don’t worry… I think we all are,” C-ta responded, being sure to give him a warm and gentle smile this time.

Throughout the rest of their wandering, Keiichi was a bit edgy, which was understandable…but fear can lead to some very regrettable decisions, now, couldn’t it?

Over all, C-ta decided that the only one he didn’t need to keep an eye on was A-ya. Yes, both Keiichi and Yukiteru were potential threats…


 

“Uh, I found something…,” said Shintaro lamely, reentering the dimly lit storage room that he and his group had taken refuge in. He’d been sent to scout the building while Tsuki tended to Roppi and Seidou; his head was bowed as he thought things through.

“R…really?” asked Tsuki tentatively.

“Was it painkillers, by any chance?” Roppi asked through gritted teeth. “This fucking sucks.” His arms had been put back in place; thankfully only one of them was actually broken, the other having only been pulled out of its socket. Tsuki hadn’t yet found anything that would work as a suitable splint, however. The blood that had been running down his face from the cut on his forehead had been wiped up with Seidou’s jacket. Said jacket was also being pressed to the area by Tsuki to staunch the bleeding.

“Uh, no…” Shintaro frowned slightly.

“Then, um… wh-what was it?” inquired Tsuki, voice soft.

“I…don’t know. Some kind of purple electronic device. I couldn’t get it to turn on, though…”

“We’ll…take a look at it,” said Seidou. He paused. “But first…I want to apologize.” He lifted his head, brow creased deeply in regret. “I’m sorry…for putting us all in danger the way I did. I underestimated the enemy and nearly got all of us killed. As for you, Roppi, I…” Seidou lowered his head again, standing. He bowed low. “Forgive me. This is all my fault.”

“Oh, shut up,” Roppi scoffed. “I lived, didn’t I? Isn’t that satisfying enough?”

Seidou raised his head, brow furrowed. “Huh?”

“I honestly don’t give a shit, and you apologizing won’t change anything about what happened. You’d better not be one of those people that apologize all too often, ‘cause we already have Tsuki here.”

“Ah—?” Tsuki straightened, face reddening.

“Look, you’re the team leader. And guess what? You’re a human, and humans fuck up all the time. So shut up and go with it already. Apologize to me ever again and my head’ll hurt even worse. And headaches are a bitch.”

“I…” Seidou cast his eyes to the side. “Yeah, you’re right… I do need to take responsibility, though.”

“I-it’s really, um, fine,” Tsuki assured him with a smile. “I mean… it—it could have turned out much worse if…if Shintaro hadn’t acted when he did…” He adjusted his glasses.

Shintaro’s eyes became flat. “Ah, no. Not really…”

“Really, though, Tsuki’s right,” Seidou jumped in, thoroughly agreeing with the human-shaped bundle of nerves that was Tsuki. “Thank you, Shintaro. You had anticipated being stopped, hadn’t you, when you went to stab Ciel?”

Shintaro nodded, expressionless.

“Quick thinking… We should work together next time on strategies, okay?”

“Yeah, sure…” Shintaro shrugged his shoulders slightly, perhaps tensely. “It wasn’t that big of a deal… It’s likely they would have let us go anyway, with that Shinichi guy involved.”

“Well, I guess that’s true…” Seidou frowned a bit. This was beginning to remind him a bit too much of another situation… Ah, he wouldn’t be surprised if Shintaro, too, were more intelligent than he was. Seidou had stupidly led the four of them into a potentially fatal situation, and Shintaro had gotten them out of it; that was fact. No, the idea of being inferior was something that didn’t surprise him in the least… He was used to the concept. He thought of Akira, the investigator who graduated at the very top of the class, who was his rival…while he was the number two. She never failed to defeat him.

But no, it wasn’t quite this that bothered him the most about that situation… Rather, it was the idea that she, the emotionless one who didn’t even seem to put any effort into her work, was better than him, who tried so hard and cared too much.

Why should it be that someone who didn’t care be the one most fitting for the job of protecting others? It made no sense… That was what made him most angry.

And so he pleaded to Shintaro in his head not to be the type who really didn’t care, because that…that would just be terrible. The ones that other human beings rely on…those people should be the ones who care the most, shouldn’t they?

Ah, but for now he would give him the benefit of the doubt. The way he had acted straightaway; the panic in his voice when he addressed Tsuki…surely he’d risked his life because he cared, not because he felt it was right, or because it was proper, or because it was the smartest thing to do. It wasn’t protocol. This kid wasn’t trained. No, Seidou might even call him…a reluctant hero; that was it. The kind that probably didn’t even think they were heroic in the least.

He sighed, shaking his head before smiling at Shintaro. “You did a good job. Accept our thanks, alright? Whether we would have made it anyway or not, you still acted to help your group in the face of fear, and that’s respectable.”

Shintaro looked supremely uncomfortable at the compliment. “Uh, I…”

“Even though you pretty much collapsed in a heap on the floor once we got here,” Roppi added. “And you complain nonstop.”

“Hey, c’mon, I’m not used to running!” Shintaro cried.

“And I’m not used to having arms that aren’t in the right places,” Roppi scoffed. “Get over it.”

Shintaro quickly shut his mouth, looking shameful. Seidou frowned at Roppi, who grinned mirthlessly back at him. “S-so, um, about that…that device you found…?” Tsuki spoke in a tentative voice.

“Right!” said Seidou. “Lead the way, Shintaro.”

Shintaro nodded. “This way…”

Tsuki looked down at Roppi as the raven-haired boy got to his feet. He tried to help his friend, but Roppi only frowned at him and said, “I can walk on my own now.”

“Y-you don’t have to go see… Ah, h-hey, wait…” Tsuki trotted along after everyone else.

Shintaro led them to a room that was relatively close to where they had been hiding out, pointing to a purple prism of a contraption. “There it is. I can’t figure out what it might do, but…”

As the four entered the room, it lit up and the projection of the static, humanoid representation of the Voice began to speak. “Congratulations! You are the third group to find a ‘special item!’” And it began to explain how it worked. Everyone looked at one another.

“I think this person’s just incredibly annoying,” Roppi grumbled.

Shintaro shrugged, then nodded.

Seidou gave a slight inclination of the head to express his indifference. He was more just angry at the situation in general.

After the Voice had done its talking, a red holographic touch-screen showed up above the purple device. The four of them peered at the options, all of them curious in some way or another even though they felt like they shouldn’t be. This time, the options were as follows:

<Seidou Takizawa> .............. [FastForward]
<Shintaro Kisaragi> ............ [1up/New Recruits]
<Izaya Hachimenroppi> .......... [Switch Out/Self Sacrif.]
<Shizuo Tsukishima> ............ [Medical Kit]

“Can I…seriously get a 1up like in a video game?” Shintaro asked, pleasantly surprised.

“S-s-self sacrifice?” Tsuki swallowed, uncomfortable.

“I sure hope I at least bring someone back if I do that, or something. Otherwise it’d be a pretty stupid special item, right?” asked Roppi dully. “Sacrifice implies I might save someone… I could just kill myself if I really wanted to.”

“Ah, no…”

“I wasn’t planning on it, Tsuki… Calm down.”

“Could they really…bring back the dead?” asked Shintaro breathlessly, awed at the thought. “They couldn’t, could they? …Could they?”

“Considering the fact there are demons and lesser gods in this game…I’d say it’s possible,” Seidou mused, hand to his chin. “And then, what would ‘FastForward’ mean? I perform a time skip? How old would I be, I wonder? Ah…but I think the best option is the medical kit; what do you guys think?”

“Y-yes,” Tsuki agreed, while Roppi and Shintaro both gave small nods.

“This way Roppi can get some proper medical attention, and we can treat any injuries in the future,” Seidou said, and pressed the button. The screen became bright white - everyone shielded their eyes in one way or another.

“Does it have to be so bright?” asked Roppi irately, turning his head away.

When they were all able to look back, Tsuki was extremely happy to find his beige satchel sitting in front of the ‘special item generator’ or whatever they should call it. Ah, but what was inside of it?

Tsuki rummaged through his satchel while Seidou and Shintaro looked at the bag with interest. “It really worked,” Seidou remarked.

“This is totally a video game,” Shintaro breathed.

“Not so fun actually being in one, is it?” Roppi hissed, severely wishing his arm wasn’t broken.

“G-good news, Roppi; there’s a—a perfect splint in here…”

“Really…”

“Y-yeah, and my needle and thread… I—I can sew up your, ah, your head in-injury too. There’s…there’s lots of stuff in—in here…” Tsuki fumbled through syringe cases and medicine bottles, absorbent compress dressings and an instant cold compress, ointments and aspirin packets, rubber gloves and a thermometer, scissors and tweezers… adhesive bandages, roller bandages, triangular bandages… antibiotics, anesthesia, hydrocortisone—He got far more than he had ever expected. This, definitely, was a great ‘special item’ to find. Of course, now the issue was that he didn’t know how to go about using all of the items in this bag…but he could only hope that he wouldn’t have to.

While Seidou and Shintaro continued searching the building, Tsuki would tend to Roppi. Thus, the first encounter between groups had no casualties, thankfully.


 

No casualties? Well that’s boring. Should we start playing with the weather? Make it a little more difficult? What if—ah! We could lead them to each other, how about that? I like that idea…”

“…No? Not yet, huh… I guess it’s true that a few of the groups might self-destruct on their own, but it’s still fun to watch them beat each other to death! It’s like a TV show, a TV show!”

“Yeah, some of them are getting along far better than expected… Is this good, or bad? I can’t tell. It makes it more interesting, so I guess it’s fine. A-ya and Yukiteru! Sebastian and Migi! Shizuo and Yukine! Shirazu and Delic! Ahh, and I do so wonder whether Shintaro and Roppi will realize how much they have in common…”

“I have to admit I’m impressed with Shizuo and Izaya. I wonder if they’ll make a good team after all? Hehe…yeah, that would be the most surprising outcome.”

“Ah, who will be the first to die? Hurry up and get killed already - I want to know! And besides, I can’t bring in anyone else until at least half of the players are dead. I still have some other realms reserved for when that happens… Eventually I can have a little more fun, but for now… I guess I’ll just chill. The ‘special item’ choices haven’t been too interesting so far - Psyche’s yandere side doesn’t seem to have fully activated yet—good thing C-ta’s got that aspect covered. Ah, seems Keiichi’s paranoia is coming along well… I guess for now the best thing is to watch the show. The best stories have a gradual build, right? For now; relax…”

Notes:

Somehow I feel as though this 'real-life video game' won't be so fun to most of its players, Shintaro. But it sure is entertainment from where I'm sitting!

Chapter 8: Bon Matin!

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Group 5 spent the better half of day two searching through every house on that dirt road. They began on the west side, working their way north, then shifted to the east side and went south again. The dynamic of the group came in layers. They all worked together as a unit without much conflict - however, neither Tsukiyama, Yoh, nor Ganta liked Kuroha. They didn’t exactly trust him, either. So all three of them were wary of the possessed android, while he kept an eye on them in turn. Because after all, he sensed that all three of these wonderful souls had either experienced tragedy or would experience it in the future… It was a delicious scent.

Beneath that, Yoh and Ganta were closer to one another than they were to Tsukiyama, even though Ganta didn’t feel any distrust towards the ghoul. Yoh, on the other hand, most definitely felt uneasy whenever Tsukiyama spoke…

…Even though usually it was just because of how loud and obnoxious he was.

But really - Yoh did find Tsukiyama to be very untrustworthy, and meanwhile Tsukiyama was in fact looking at Ganta and wondering just how tasty he’d be. Then again, Tsukiyama’s priority was finding Kaneki and protecting him…to keep him for himself, of course - he was, after all, the perfect meat.

Yoh’s primary goal was making it back to Deadman Wonderland so he could protect his sister, even if it did mean killing Ganta in the end…

Kuroha just wanted to have fun with the carnage.

So in actuality, Ganta was the only one innocently assuming that they were all fighting together in this. Ignorance is bliss, I suppose, but perhaps it doesn’t work that way if it can get you killed. I mean, Ken Kaneki was “ignorant” of Rize Kamishiro’s intent, and look where that got him!

Though, there is a certain beauty to innocent ignorance.

Along the way heading south, Kuroha paused in walking, tilting his head. His mouth twitched. Something was funny.

“Eh? What’s the big idea?” Yoh frowned, looking up at him with his arms crossed.

“I mean, what is it, Kuro-san?” asked Ganta.

Kuroha looked at him, eyes shimmering with cold amusement. “Kuro-san?” he repeated.

“Ah, um…” Ganta backed off. “I mean, sorry, I was trying, to be… I was, well, it was supposed to be respectful; I just--”

Kuroha cut him off with his laugh. “You’re funny. Keep doing that.”

“Ah,” said Tsukiyama in realization. His mouth curved into a smile of its own.

“What is it?” Yoh frowned. He was getting annoyed with the fact they both seemed to know something that he and Ganta did not.

Tsukiyama gave Kuroha a glance; the android smiled. “Nothing, actually. Must have been imagining things,” Kuroha waved Yoh off, only further infuriating him. Of course, Yoh also knew better than to voice his dissatisfaction, and bit his tongue for now. It would be stupid to start an argument with these guys. He’d be dead in an instant - he wasn’t stupid. Ganta shrugged the whole thing off, but Yoh kept wondering about it. What would the two of them have to hide? Both of them had better senses - was a group coming their way? Why wouldn’t they warn them, though…? It didn’t make any sense whatsoever.

It wasn’t until perhaps fifteen minutes later that Kuroha spoke up again. “Someone was spying on us,” he said, and Ganta looked at him incredulously.

“What? Really? Who?”

So that’s what that was about… They didn’t want the spy to know they noticed, thought Yoh.

“Smelled like…that god fellow, perhaps?” suggested Tsukiyama, looking to Kuroha.

The serpent nodded, mouth widening into a grin. “I wonder whether they’ll be foolish enough to try and ambush us.” He laughed lowly, and Ganta shifted uncomfortably. “Perhaps we should go to greet them instead…”

“Hm, who was in that group…?” Yoh frowned. “The god and that dead kid; who else?”

“I don’t remember…” Ganta’s brow furrowed as he strained his memory.

“Wasn’t it those two bickering ones? The ones that had a few copies, non?” asked Tsukiyama.

Kuroha nodded slowly. “Yes…”

“You’re a demon, right?” Yoh had a skeptical expression on his face. Kuroha looked at him, yellow eyes glowing. “And that guy, he’s supposed to be a god, right? Aren’t demons weaker than gods?”

“I don’t sense as much from him as that would entail,” Kuroha answered, expression sour. “Don’t underestimate me, brat. I control the outcome of this group.” He leaned in close to Yoh, and he could feel a cold tremor go through him unlike any other iciness he had ever experienced. It was both a physical and psychological chill, and those cold yellow eyes were engrained into his mind all in just that moment. Those eyes would follow him to his dreams. “Do you understand me?”

Yoh nodded, speechless. Ganta, to the side, looked supremely uncomfortable and sympathetic for his friend. Tsukiyama could only think to himself that Yoh was quite the fool, talking to such a menacing man in that way… Perhaps if Yoh were any match for him, but no - Yoh was just a puny human being. He could tell that Ganta would at least be able to put up a fight, but even he wouldn’t last long, surely.

In response to Yoh’s wordless agreement, Kuroha smiled and straightened up again. “You really do remind me of the Deceiver, you know that? He has that same hate in his eyes when he looks at me, but also the same fear. I wonder if I can get you to make the same expression of despair~ Ooh, that would be fantastic…”

“Hey, we don’t have time for despair right now!” Ganta broke in. Yoh looked at him very questioningly. Kuroha raised his eyebrows. “Right now, we need to work together! I’m sure that if we try hard enough, all of us can make it out…” He trailed off, realizing no one was responding positively to the speech.

Yoh was just incredulous to his apparent stupidity.

Kuroha’s mouth twisted. “You know,” he commented, “you remind me of someone else I know. She always tried her hardest to remain optimistic. She had a way of holding people together. Can you guess what happened to her?”

Ganta swallowed. “…Um…?”

“She sacrificed herself and died for the sake of the people she ‘loved.’ And you know what it did?”

“Nothing?”

“Better,” Kuroha grinned. “It helped the one that hurt her and her loved ones. She helped the one she was trying to thwart. Isn’t that funny?”

“…Oh…”

Tsukiyama put his hand on Ganta’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it, petit; you remind me of someone I… used to know as well.”

“Did they die too?” Yoh asked dully.

Non! No, of course not, mein Gott… They simply changed, that’s all. He was, and is, a very good person, petit. So don’t fret too much.”

Ganta looked at him, and Tsukiyama smiled a charming, warm smile. He smiled back. “Um, thank you, Tsukiyama-san.”

“Honorifics are unnecessary.” He waved him off. Ah, and Kaneki had been this foolishly trusting, too, back in the time when he had black hair… Ah, this bittersweet nostalgia…

“Well, anyway, what are we gonna do about this group spying on us?” Yoh frowned. “We’ve gotta do something.”

“I say we all go and fight… then they can be disposed of quickly and easily,” Tsukiyama said matter-of-factly. Although, that god fellow does have a wonderful scent… Even better than petit, Ganta-kun. It’s a lovely smell I’ve never before encountered… I wonder what magnificent flavors his flesh holds…

“Oh, no, I have different plans,” Kuroha smiled. “The loud gourmet and the bleeding heart… you can go and find the group. Gourmet, you have good senses, right? I think you’ll find them just fine. If I went, the show would be far too boring, the massacre too easy. I’d like to watch, that’s all. It’s much more satisfying getting blood on my own hands, but I feel it would be far more interesting to watch both sides struggle, don’t you think? There’s more of a chance of survival, and if that’s so, it allows this tragedy to drag on longer, doesn’t it? I very much like it that way.” He smiled eerily. “Let’s allow their souls to suffer as long as possible. I like them ripe; fresh tragedy has the best kind of flavor, don’t you think, Gourmet?”

“I…would suppose that’s true,” Tsukiyama responded vaguely.

Yoh furrowed his brow. “Wait, what about me?”

“Oh, Deceiver #2, you can stay with me.”

Yoh drew his lips into a thin line, swallowing. Great.

Ganta looked at him worriedly.

“Ah, I suppose that means it’s just you and me, Ganta-kun,” sighed Tsukiyama. “How fast can you go?”

“I…” Ganta forced himself to look away from Yoh, who seemed to be currently internalizing his fear of being alone with Kuroha. “I, well, I can really only go as fast as other humans…”

“Ah, then you may ride on my back if you’d like,” Tsukiyama smiled. “I will carry you otherwise. Kuroha-san, what is it you would like us to do, precisely?”

The android shrugged. “I say scare them away. Hurt them; wound them. Kill them if necessary. No…if you could kill only one, that would be wonderful. We will meet afterwards at the most southern house, on the eastern side of this dirt road. They shouldn’t be too far beyond it.”

Tsukiyama nodded. “D’accord. Ganta-kun, would you prefer to be carried or to ride, hmm?”

“It, really doesn’t matter--” He let out a yelp as Tsukiyama scooped him up in his arms, bridal style.

“Wonderful! Allons-y!” the gourmet cried, and began away. Ganta gasped and clutched at Tsukiyama’s jacket. This was fast; and so suddenly, too… After a few moments, however, the only sound was that of the rushing air around them. It wasn’t so bad once they were at a constant speed.

Ganta thought for a bit. Uncomfortable with the silence, he inquired after some internal debating, “Say, why do you think he calls me the bleeding heart?”

“Hm? What’s that? Ahh… I wouldn’t think too much about it, Ganta-kun,” Tsukiyama responded. “Even if his own meaning is of ill intent, I think you should wear the name with pride. He doesn’t seem to call anyone by their true given name, I’ve noticed… But ‘Bleeding Heart,’ I think it’s lovely… It’s a kind of flower, too, you know.” He thought to himself how Kaneki would surely enjoy some flower symbolism.

“Is it?” Ganta looked surprised and a bit curious.

“Oh, yes, and it is a lovely flower. A very emotional flower. To be a Bleeding Heart flower, I think, is to wear your heart on your sleeve and to pour out your feelings for all to see. You seem that type who speaks from the heart, so I believe it’s quite fitting, vous ne pensez pas? You should remain this way; it suits you.”

“Ah… thank you, Tsukiyama.” Feeling better and with a smile on his face, Ganta quieted until Tsukiyama stopped. Here was the most southern house on this dirt road, the designated meeting place for their group to come back together after this was over. Ganta was no longer smiling. This was business. Did they really have to fight here, too? Ganta thought of the way G block worked in Deadman Wonderland, where prisoners were made to fight one another as if they were fighter dogs…which was also incredibly unethical either way.

“Now,” said Tsukiyama, back to the building behind him, “they should be coming this way. If we’re quick, we may take them by surprise. That god fellow, I don’t know what kinds of senses he has, but I know they aren’t too far ahead…I can smell them from here.” He tilted his head. “Yes, they’re talking now…”

“What are they talking about?” asked Ganta, eyebrows clinched. “Are they planning on trying to kill us? Do they know we’re here?”

Un moment…” He hushed him, and listened.

Not too far down the road, Yato had just given the status of the group up ahead - it was Group 5, the one with the snake demon. “I definitely sense something nasty in that serpent,” Yato spoke, for once, in a lower and more serious tone.

“He’s definitely possessed,” Yukine agreed.

“Ahh, so it’s that group…,” Izaya mused.

“Well, what’re we gonna do about it?” Shizuo grumbled.

“Obviously we can’t face them alone,” Yato responded.

“Yes, Kuroha’s one of the ones we definitely can’t go up against as just one group,” Izaya nodded, leafing through his information documents. “That group, looks like…hm.”

“So then, we can’t fight him now? Even though we just found him?” Yukine seemed frustrated. “What if we just cut his ties or something? Wouldn’t that expel the demon? Or something?”

“We don’t know for sure it’ll work that way, Yukine,” Yato answered apologetically. “If demons are the same as the Ayakashi… Even if a person were influenced by an Ayakashi in our world, it might be different with this guy because he wasn’t human in the first place. He was like, an android or something. Which is super cool!” he added, gripping his hands into fists.

“Yeah, it’ll be real awesome when he beats you to bits,” Shizuo frowned.

Yato gave him a sad look.

“So do we skirt around them, or what?” Yukine huffed, crossing his arms.

“I guess… That’s the best thing for now, isn’t it?” Yato inquired, looking over at Izaya.

“Hmm?” He looked up from his papers. “Oh, yes, yes, that idea’s ideal. Whether it works or not.”

“God damn it, Flea, if you want to take charge, do it right or I’ll kick your ass,” Shizuo growled.

“This idea may be foreign to you, Protazoan, but I was doing something called thinking deeply,” Izaya smiled wryly. “That’s the kind of thing that may just save our skins later, you know.”

“You act like you want me to destroy you,” the blond answered in low tones. The tension was rising.

“I swear, guys, you better not start fighting again,” Yukine frowned.

“Oh, I wasn’t planning on it, but if Shizu-chan so insists,” said Izaya.

“That’s it!” Shizuo snapped, stalking towards him. Izaya was preparing to dodge smoothly; he took a swing at the informant, anger boiling over when Yato caught Shizuo’s punch in his hand. His eyes glowed a menacing but bright blue. His pupils were slits. Out of confusion and surprise, Shizuo’s anger dissipated. He lowered his fist. Izaya looked both intrigued and amused.

“Both of you are going to close your mouths, and we’re going to get out of here. If we can’t face this Kuroha person, we aren’t going to. If there’s one thing I know for sure about this game, it’s that I’m not sacrificing my Shinki for anything so ridiculous. He’s precious to me. I won’t let it happen. That means no more of this…because—”

Bon matin, tout le monde!” came the melodramatic shout, and Yato dodged quickly as a purple kagune blade sliced at where he’d been standing a moment ago.

Sekki!” barked Yato, and Yukine began to glow, transforming into white light and then into a blade that was loosely bandaged at the hilt. Yato bent his legs and then leaped into the air to attack.

Izaya smoothly slipped his documents into the group’s bag and slung it over his shoulder.

Shizuo looked around for some kind of large object to swing around, but found only a flimsy tree in the front yard of a house situated just up ahead. Shrugging off the lack of weapons options, he went at the gourmet with full strength. As he was doing so, however, he realized his arm felt warm and wet. He looked down; his sleeve was stained red. “What the fuck…”

Ganta stood not too far off, palm pointed at Shizuo. His thumb, lacerated by his own canine tooth, bled freely down and dripped from his wrist, some of the red running down his arm. Shizuo watched in vague bemusement as the kid formed another ball in his hand - it was made of blood - and shot it directly at him, this time hitting him in the leg. He looked down at his leg, then looked back at Ganta. “You little…!” Shizuo went for Ganta instead, but he seemed to be keeping his distance as best he could - his ability was one that was best used at long-range.

Yato and Tsukiyama battled in what was at first an almost casual act. They were merely dancing. As they fought, however, the act became more vigorous. “Ah~ You’re a worthy opponent, Monsieur,” complimented Tsukiyama. “Might I ask, is that blade of yours made of metal?”

“Not at all,” answered Yato bluntly, slicing downwards and effectively slashing at Tsukiyama’s chest. It wasn’t deep in the least, but it was enough to prove to the ghoul that this was no ordinary blade, and it could cut him.

The gourmet laughed at this, the sclera in each of his eyes going black, irises red. “As expected of a deity, Monsieur! Show me more!”

Yukine winced inwardly as his blade and Tsukiyama’s kagune collided. Yato didn’t know whether it was due to the limitations placed by the Voice or due to natural consequences, but it seemed the strength of the kagune was equal to that of his Shinki weapon. Hold on, Yukine! Yato gritted his teeth and continued, eyes glowing with an intense coldness. He was out for the kill - it was kill or be killed, right? Yato would not cease to exist by any cost, nor would he allow Yukine to die… Well, again. Ah, no reason to show his true nature yet, though, was it?

Shizuo soon caught up with Ganta, five blood-bullets embedded in his body. He took this chance to grab him by the collar and lift him from the ground. Ganta grasped at Shizuo’s arm, closing one eye and clenching his teeth in preparation for the pain. “The fuck is your problem, kid?” he said in his low, angry, rumbling tones. He looked behind him. “And where the fuck is Izaya?! Yato!”

“Hah?” Yato flipped backwards to be out of range of Tsukiyama’s attack for a moment. “Izaya; I’m not sure where he went,” he said, and blocked the Gourmet’s attack.

“Fucking Flea; god damned coward; stupid maggot…,” he muttered, then brought Ganta closer to him. “You know, I have no idea where the fuck you were aiming. Were you trying to kill me?”

“Uh, u-um, I…I…” Ganta lost the ability to speak.

As Shizuo scrutinized him, this was around the time both Tsukiyama and Yato noticed something was off. Tsukiyama was getting an uncomfortable feeling - he couldn’t put his finger on why, but… no, he was… was he hungry? Impossible! He had eaten soon before he’d come here! Was this one of those limitations…?

Yato, meanwhile, had spotted someone coming up behind Shizuo, standing with his back to the building. It was another kid - that Yoh Takami kid, with a crimson sword in hand. “Shizuo, look behind you!” Yato called out, and was stabbed through with the hand of the gourmet. Choking, he pulled himself away and jumped backwards, out of range of Tsukiyama. The gourmet was distracted by the blood on his hand, anyhow - what would the god taste like? He must know… Certainly some kind of magnificent delicacy… He licked his thumb to taste the red delight that coated it, then lifted his head to face the brightening firmament above. “Köstlich!” he exclaimed. From then on he bit his tongue. To think, a flavor I’ve not yet tasted; something unlike anything that’s ever graced my mouth… Ah, an enchanting dish he would make indeed! This only stirs my appetite further… I wonder, is this what humans would call ‘sweet’? I do believe this must be the right word to describe…!

Shizuo, hearing Yato’s call, had looked over confusedly, squinting at the delivery god. He stared in shock as Yato was hit. What had he been going on about that was important enough to get himself hurt? Idiot.

Behind him, Yoh prepared to strike - it was now or never!

Laughter came from the second floor of the house behind Yoh and Shizuo as Izaya threw hot water over Yoh in turn. Yoh cringed and gasped at the scalding liquid poured over him. “Try that on for size! Shizu-chan, be careful or you might get killed!”

“Fuck you, Flea; where the hell were you?!”

“Anticipating the second wave, Protazoan!” he chirped in response. “You’re welcome, by the way!” While the ex-bartender ground his teeth together in irritation, Izaya jumped skillfully from the second story window and landed gracefully on his feet, twirling his knife. “I’ve never been one for violence, you know. It’s a little bit on the disgusting side, don’t you think? Then again, you are the epitome of violence. Ah! Yoh-kun, pleasure to meet you,” Izaya smiled at his burnt victim, who scowled at him in answer. “It’s alright.” His smile widened. “I understand the predicament. You just don’t want to die. You have a sibling to return to, don’t you?”

Yoh’s eyes widened, jaw slightly agape. Ganta looked at Izaya with incredulous fear.

“I’m going to suppose it’s your sister. And you, Ganta-kun, I’ll bet you have some kind of motive too, huh? Like, revenge maybe?”

Ganta paled. Yoh’s skin had turned red, his taupe hair stuck to his face.

“It’s the same for every one of us here, I suppose. Even for the ghoul over there - Shuu Tsukiyama, correct?” He looked over at the gourmet. All eyes were on Izaya. He’d captured their attention quite nicely.

C’est moi,” Tsukiyama confirmed.

“They have someone to return to… Do you, Tsukiyama? I have to say, I think your desire lies more in the protection of that Ken Kaneki boy, doesn’t it?”

Tsukiyama straightened, eyes narrowed. “Indeed. I had said in the very beginning that my loyalties lie with Kaneki, did I not?”

“So you did,” Izaya smiled. “How about this? You three keep in mind that I, Izaya Orihara, am not going to let this game get the best of me. You three people can do that just fine. Ah, Shuu-kun, I have to say, even though you aren’t ‘human,’ I might as well call you as such. You have enough human characteristics, I think.”

Tsukiyama straightened, looking offended.

“Now, while you three are struggling to kill everyone you find, I’ll be plotting some way to kill the two strongest ones here: the butler demon and the serpent that’s in your group. I think that it would be better for all of us to work together against the one running this stupid game. I don’t know about you, but I don’t intend to become a pawn. You can let yourself be used if you want, but at any time you’re welcome to help us out… I’m aware that Kuroha is likely listening to every word I say right now, so don’t answer me just yet.” He grinned a closed eye smile.

“Izaya! Shizuo!” Yato shouted - a likely cue to get out of there. Shizuo irately dropped Ganta, Izaya began happily going over to Yato. Ganta gasped for air, crawling over to Yoh to see if he was alright (“I’m fine already; holy shit, man, is your neck okay?”) while Tsukiyama stood there and reflected upon what Izaya had said. Shizuo, impatient, irately grabbed Izaya’s hood and hurried ahead, earning some protest from the informant as they reached the bleeding Yato and held on to either arm, grip tight. In a flash of blue light, they disappeared.

“No way…,” Ganta choked out, staring where they had been.

“Great,” Yoh said flatly.

Affamato…,” Tsukiyama muttered to himself. Hungry. He was rather hungry, now, yes…

“Pathetic,” was Kuroha’s contribution to the conversation, seeming to appear from nowhere. “But there are certainly some interesting people in that group, as well…” He chuckled. “You remind me of a drowned mole rat, Deceiver #2. You look ridiculous with that pink, vulnerable skin. Human bodies are so inconvenient, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, whatever…,” he grumbled. He didn’t like the warm, itchy, strange sensation prickling all over his skin. He felt as though he was stretching his skin out with every little movement. This was going to be annoying. That guy, the one who poured a bucket on him… What a shit.

“If there’s one thing I can praise, it’s that the flimsy god was wounded. We’ll see how fast he can heal…” Kuroha seemed pleasantly amused.

Tsukiyama, meanwhile, was sizing up Ganta for a meal. Ganta’s thumb was still dripping deliciously with his blood; the red from the god had already run out - the sweetest thing Tsukiyama had ever tasted. But Ganta… Well, he could surely spare a hand, couldn’t he? He was terribly hungry now, and he smelled so lusciously sweet - a different kind than the god, sure, but… No, he wouldn’t kill him or anything, of course not - just dice up his hand to be eaten, wasn’t that fine? Palms were quite the delicacy, you know.  His mouth watered; his kakugan was still activated in his eyes.

“I hope one of those special limitations includes people healing slowly… It’s stupid if when you hurt someone they just heal themselves,” Yoh grumbled.

“Especially if they can just teleport away like that…,” Ganta added weakly, rubbing at his throat.

“That teleportation is completely unfair,” Yoh agreed irately.

“Hm… I can’t teleport, but I can make it look like it to the human eye,” Kuroha said thoughtfully.

“Yeah, which is great, but can you take people with you?” Yoh frowned.

“I’d have to test that. I’ve taken cadavers with me before…,” he mused.

“Uh… Nice.” Yoh frowned a bit, unconsciously backing up.

“Back off of Yoh,” Ganta frowned, getting to his feet. A protective friend.

Tsukiyama, hand to his face, allowed his kagune to dissipate; his eyes returned to their original shades. It would be very unsophisticated of him to just let himself eat any one of his teammates, wouldn’t it? He must control himself. Calmato. Pulling his mouth into a smile, he lowered his hand from his face and returned to his normal amiable aura. “Now, Kuroha-kun…” - the android’s eyebrows shot up in question of the friendly suffix - “…there’s no need to worry Ganta-kun or Yoh-kun. For now, we must cooperate, so let us do so. We will have other chances to pick off the other groups, so for now, let us recover for the sake of these two, d’accord?

“Tsk…yes,” Kuroha concurred, if in an incredibly annoyed fashion. “I was only contemplating the idea of carrying others whilst running very fast,” he added sweetly.

“You didn’t have to add cadavers into the theory…,” Ganta mumbled, and Tsukiyama laughed a bit. Kuroha seemed to find it amusing too. Perhaps it was only them who found it funny, but there were going to be cadavers in the future either way, wouldn’t there be?

Well…the time would come.

Notes:

Despite the dynamic, at least Group 6 didn't lose any members right off the bat. It's almost as if they're a team! But... only almost.

Chapter 9: Bleeding Heart

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“Ah, shit…” Shizuo poked at one of his blood-bullet wounds with a frown. It wasn’t that they hurt, it was that they were bleeding all over the place. Stupid.

“Guess Shizu-chan’s favorite bartender’s outfit is soiled,” Izaya snickered.

“Shut the fuck up, Flea.” Shizuo looked at Yato, their ride. The delivery god had brought them to the edge of a forest somehow. Teleportation. Weird.

Yukine, who was now in human form rather than being a sword, was kneeling beside Yato, who was sitting with his legs beneath him. His hand was on his abdomen, staunching the bleeding from the wound dealt him by Tsukiyama. His deep purple hair was shrouding his eyes. For some reason, all that plus the teleportation had taken a far greater toll than he had expected. It must have to do with the limitations placed on him, but he didn’t really expect to be healing anytime soon. He felt sick. He would not die, but he definitely wouldn’t be well either, maybe even not for the rest of this god-forsaken game.

Shizuo came over to them. “Is it gonna heal, or…?”

“I don’t think he’s healing normal,” Yukine said, sounding irate in a way that Shizuo recognized as worried. This kid was worried. Of course he was.

Looking down at his bartender’s attire, Shizuo took off his vest and began to rip it in half.

“What are you doing?” Yato choked out. He was frowning deeply at Shizuo. “I’m fine. It’s not like I’ll die.” The first impression of an idiotic nature and playful countenance were replaced with a cold demeanor. A warning. Keep Out. ‘Leave me alone,’ it said.

“Take my fucking vest,” Shizuo answered grumpily. “You’re bleeding everywhere, and I’m betting you’re not going to use that stupid-ass puffy scarf.”

The god gave a dry laugh before hunching back over. Shizuo clicked his tongue in annoyance.

“Aw, Shizu-chan’s acting human~ How adorably out of character!” Izaya chirped.

“Fuck you,” Shizuo answered dismissively, and Yukine took the half-vest Shizuo had offered and forced it on Yato.

“If you won’t tie this on your wound, I will tie it for you!” he shouted. “He’s trying to help you, damn it!”

Yato pursed his lips, acting in his original childish act once more. He looked like he was pouting. “But I’m fine. I can handle this myself.”

“You are sitting in a fucking blood puddle,” Shizuo said dully.

“So are you!” Yato protested.

“I don’t have a hole in my gut! Fucking bandage it already!”

“Ah, fine! Fine! Let go, Yukine!”

Yukine did, and Yato grudgingly took off his jersey to patch himself up. “Here,” said Yukine, trying to wrap it for him, fumbling terribly with the torn vest.

“Here, let me get it,” Shizuo grunted, trying to do the same. He did even worse, even poking at the wound itself on accident once, only to mumble an apology.

“Guys, it’s fine, I can tie it myself.” Yato grabbed the ends of the vest and did so with ease, used to taking care of his own injuries. Shizuo and Yukine watched closely, nodding in approval. Izaya just stood to the side, peering at them with his perpetually narrowed eyes. He had nothing to say. They were taking care of one another, of course. They were humans. Humans had a knack for killing one another, but if there were sides to take, they sure did do a good job of taking care of each other, too.

A smile pulled at Izaya’s lips. They sure were interesting. And with that, he sat himself down on the ground and began leafing through his list of people once again, taking mental notes of what he’d learned.


 

“Up, up, up he goes! What he’ll find, nobody knows~” Psyche sang, rocking happily on his heels, back and forth. Back and forth. Back and…

Kaneki was climbing a tree to try and see what they were heading for, or if anyone was coming their way. Psyche could remember when he and Deli were kids, climbing trees all the time. He also remembered daring Deli to jump off the roof of his house once. He ended up breaking his fibula. Oops. He remembered…

“Yo, hey, ya see anything?” Delic called up to Kaneki.

“Anything moving out there?” Shirazu added.

Kaneki jumped from the tree and landed in front of the three waiting for him. “It looks like there’s a dirt road by the houses up ahead. I’m not sure if there’s anyone hiding out over there or not, though…” He nodded to his left. “To the south I think there could be a group in one of the clearings. I can’t tell which group it might be, but there were definitely four of them. It’s best to keep from going that way. To the North is where the city is; that dirt road probably leads to it eventually.”

“Wait, you saw people?” asked Psyche. “What if we teamed up with them? We could make friends…”

“Psyche, I don’t think that that’s how it works here…,” Delic frowned slightly.

“Yeah, they might see us as a threat, even if we did come in peace,” Shirazu agreed. “And that’d just end bad.”

Kaneki nodded in agreement.

“The best question now is whether to head towards the houses or keep to the east and skirt around them until we reach the city… Right?” asked Shirazu.

Kaneki put a hand to his chin, pondering. “I think…that it would likely be better to skirt around them, but it would be easier to stay by the houses because there might be food for all of you in some of them. We need to head in that direction because we need supplies. That string of houses might be the best place to find them. Either Shirazu or I will stay on the roofs of the houses we pass so as to keep an eye on our surroundings. How does that sound?”

“Sounds like a good idea to me,” Delic grinned. Shirazu and Psyche agreed easily, and they went on their way west.

“What kinds of foods do you think we’ll find?” asked Psyche, still managing to walk with a spring in his step, hands clasped behind his back. His head was swirling with dark things, but he decided he’d act brighter to try to make the dark go away.

“I hope chicken wings,” Delic sighed, looking up as he fantasized.

“Guys,” Shirazu frowned, and Delic clamped his mouth shut, remembering Kaneki’s situation.

Kaneki felt vaguely bad about them feeling the need to hush up about food, and then wondered why people from his world couldn’t just view ghouls as easily as these two did: ‘Oh, they can’t eat human food? That’s too bad, I feel sorry for them.’ In his world, it was more like, ‘They eat human flesh? How could they? They don’t deserve to breathe.’

Yeah…pretty much.

Psyche changed the subject. “How do you think Roppi-san and Tsuki are doing, Deli? I hope they’re alright. And Izaya-san, too, of course. I hope they’re all doing great; I do. I hope they found great food already, like cake. Oh! Shira-chan, do you know anybody else here?”

“Me?” Shirazu blinked. He was already used to the nickname. “Um, no, the closest thing I’ve got to knowing someone is Kane-kun, so…”

Kaneki smiled ever so slightly at the new name.

“I mean,” Shirazu conceded, “there was that other guy, Taki…zawa, I think? He’s from the CCG like I am, but I don’t know him. Not sure why.”

“Hum.” Psyche thought on this. “What about you, Kane-kun?” he inquired, latching on to Shirazu’s nickname for him.

“Ah… I do know someone,” Kaneki confirmed. “The purple-haired, melodramatic one named Shuu Tsukiyama.”

“Oh, oh!” Psyche gasped. “The one wearing the pretty colors?”

Kaneki chuckled a bit. “Yes, that’s probably the one.”

“Are you two friends, then?” Psyche asked excitedly. “Maybe we can make sure to help him out, too!”

“Hm…we’re… something like that. Yeah, we’re friends,” Kaneki answered, touching his chin. He thought of the incident at the church (in which Tsukiyama had tried to eat him), but at the same time he realized that Tsukiyama really had become a part of the group he’d created. Even though he didn’t live at the hideout like the others, he was definitely a part. It was more complex than friendship, because Kaneki still didn’t completely trust him and there was no way of knowing for sure what Tsukiyama’s true intent really was. Well, he supposed that would be revealed along the way…

They were walking for some time, still along the edge of the forest when Kaneki sensed something wrong. He told everyone to stop.

“Hum? What is it?” asked Psyche curiously.

“Something wrong?” asked Shirazu.

“Is it another group?” asked Delic.

Kaneki only held up his hand, and all was quiet. Wind rustled the leaves. Though a half-ghoul he might be, Kaneki’s sense of smell never did become too much better than human. Shirazu was the same, so he couldn’t rely on scent. All he could do was listen as closely as he could. More silence. The wind. The movement of the leaves, the grass. Breathing. Their own heartbeats.

“…Is—?” Delic began before some kind of sick squishing noise. A sharp intake of air. Everyone turned suddenly to Delic, a dark figure before him with eyes glowing yellow. A smile contorted the person’s face, eyes serpentine. His arm had been plunged into Delic’s abdomen; red was slowly staining his classy white outfit. On impact his chest had convulsed; the air Delic had gasped into his lungs remained there as he processed the pain.

“I was looking forward to doing that to one of you,” Kuroha said, slow, savoring the moment. “Did the four of you know… that red is the color of heroes?” The grin only got wider as he laughed a low chuckle. “Be a hero, Delic. Die for the sake of your friends. Even if they’re all dying anyway.” And he laughed.

For a moment, everyone was frozen, chills overcoming their ability to respond.

Then Kaneki’s eyes narrowed, his left eye’s sclera going black. His iris glowed red with rage beneath the black eye patch. “Don’t touch him.” A low and menacing threat. His thumb pressed on his index finger; his knuckle cracked. As if the popping sound were a trigger, his kagune burst outwards, six shining scaled tendrils shooting out from his back, all of them pointed at Kuroha in an instant. At the same time, there was a sucking sound, then spurting, then a thud as the android ripped his arm from Delic’s body, leaving Delic to fall to his knees.

“Just try and touch me,” Kuroha smirked as he placed one foot on Delic’s chest, pushing him down so he was lying on his back.

Deli!” Psyche screamed. A helpless wail. He was too paralyzed to do anything else.

Delic could only make choked noises of great distress.

“You won’t be able to,” Kuroha warned, and reached down to pull on Delic’s leg. He’d gripped the ankle when everyone snapped out of it. Shirazu charged at him, and Kaneki attacked, jumping into the air and diving from a tree nearby. There was another gasp, and then a grimace from Delic. He was gasping for air. Kuroha was gone, and so was his lower left leg. What replaced it was only more red. Delic began to scream.

For Psyche, everything went cold. All bright systems had shut down. A black hole had begun consuming him from the inside. “…A…ah. Deli?” He tilted his head, then turned to where Kuroha had reappeared, leg in hand. He was smiling. “You hurt, Deli.” Eyes ice, Psyche smiled. “That just means you should go back to Hell, now, Demon-san.” He giggled, and cocked his gun. “I hope you don’t like the fire.” His aim was dead-on, but Kuroha was too fast. He dodged once; Psyche was unfazed and shot again, and again. In the meantime Shirazu had been ordered by Kaneki to help Delic as best as he could and stop the bleeding. Kaneki was also trying to fight this guy, but it was no use.

Yoh and Ganta, their own two-man unit in the background, were preparing to surprise Group 1 from behind Kuroha. With that they might get a few easy killing blows. Yoh unsheathed his crimson sword, still feeling all stretched out and sensitive from the hot water earlier but ready to fight nonetheless. Ganta bit his thumb and started the blood running so that he could prepare his blood bullets. Here they go…

The first strike from the second wave would be from Ganta, then in the midst of the other group’s confusion, Yoh would jump from the trees and attack, or something like that.

Ganta was ready, position sturdy and firm, eyes determined. There had been gunshots going on. Yoh was listening. Way too loud; real annoying. It was kinda funny to watch, though. This kid in pink and white was shooting, probably doing alright with his aim even though Kuroha just kept moving ever so slightly. Bang. Nothing. Bang. Nothing. Reload. Click. Bang. Nothing. Bang. A soft yet resounding sound. A pause.

Yoh blinked. Surely that guy hadn’t hit Kuroha? Yoh could admit that he was a little bit hopeful that he had. If Kuroha had been killed, that’d be a great loss, but there’d be less to worry about and he, Ganta, and Tsukiyama could handle themselves just fine on their own. Yoh quite liked the idea. But surely this pink-lover hadn’t shot the demon snake, right? Yoh looked over to Ganta to see if he knew, but his friend’s eyes were wide, blank, empty. There was but a small red dot in the center of his forehead, only just beginning to dribble downwards at the command of gravity. His arms were at his sides. His expression had slackened. And Yoh watched Ganta fall to the ground, just a sudden collapsing of everything, like he’d been dropped by the puppeteer. The hope for Kuroha’s fatality withered and turned to dread. His blood ran cold. No way. No way. No way, no way, no way…

He couldn’t stop staring. Ganta was all he could see. He’d collapsed face down; the back of his head was fucked up, so fucked up, it didn’t even look like a head it was so fractured. A mottled mess of hair and goopy red. He just kept staring. And staring. And the gunshots continued. And continued. He felt sick. Ganta couldn’t be dead, could he? Like that? So fast? No heroic last words? No martyrdom? No saving his best friends? No. No way…

Kaneki had seen as Kuroha dodged Psyche while standing in the same trajectory as the boy he remembered was referred to as a Deadman. How dare he sacrifice the lives of his own team, for no purpose but for his own amusement? How dare he hurt Delic, who hadn’t done anything to provoke this? Kaneki had vowed to protect him, Psyche, Shirazu… How dare Kaneki fail them? How dare he…be…this…weak?

Psyche did not understand why Kaneki was beginning to look like an insect, nor why those scaled appendages of his were molding with his body. How they made a mask, half-formed to cover the left part of his face. How he metamorphosed into some kind of centipede.

“Oh, shit,” Shirazu said blankly. He did get it, unlike Psyche. “He’s gone kakuja,” he breathed. He’d never seen it before, but he knew what a kakuja was and what its implications were… Kakuja were characterized by ghouls cannibalizing ghouls, allowing their kagune to attach itself to the kakuja’s body. They were marked with very high strength levels as well as very high mental instability.

“The fuck—that mean?” Delic bit out. His breathing came in halting gasps.

“Aw, fuck. Be quiet, alright? I don’t want you dyin’… Please.” Shirazu’s brow was creased in worry. What was he supposed to think about Kaneki? What about Psyche, who was acting a little bit trigger happy? Delic might be dying holy shit— Shirazu put a hand to his head, unsure what to do. Hissing through his jagged teeth, he continued bandaging Delic up as best he could. What else was there to do? Delic was missing everything below his left knee, and it looked like the hole in his chest was, like, right below the rib cage, maybe? Shirazu didn’t know. He wasn’t a doctor. Was this fatal? He couldn’t even tell. “How do you feel right now?” Shirazu asked, grimacing at his own question. A stupid one.

“I feel—like a fucking ball of pain—just exploded in my—chest,” Delic choked out in a strained voice. “Sucks like a bitch, shit— Hey— If I die—man, ya gotta—oh shit…” He coughed and sputtered, blood dribbling from the corners of his mouth. His face contorted with pain. “Ow. Shit. Holy. Wow. Didn’t think—I could still hurt—this bad—”

“Okay, okay, no more talking,” Shirazu frowned, trying to pressurize the jab wound at his chest with his jacket. Come on, come on…

Kuroha was grinning as he fought with Kaneki. It was serpent versus centipede. Reptile versus insect. Who could slaughter the other? Kuroha breathed in the scent of his suffering - oh, yes… He could smell his sweet, succulent tragedy. He licked his lips. How wonderfully horrible it would be for the rest of his group to die! Whilst dodging both Psyche’s bullets and Kaneki’s attacks, he jumped into the air and aimed for Shirazu and Delic. Yes. Kuroha set for the kill, Kaneki showed up in front of him and tried to grab his neck. Kuroha easily moved out of the way but, underestimating Kaneki’s speed, still had his arm gripped firmly in his hand. They landed, Kaneki’s teeth gritted behind the half-mask painted with an eerie smile. “You’re fighting me… Got it?

Kuroha’s face contorted with pleasure as Kaneki grasped at his throat. What a distorted soul he was… Wonderful, simply wonderful! Great! Fantastic! …I want it. There was the soft sound of a bullet’s impact, and Kuroha’s elation deflated. He frowned down at the bullet wound at his side. What a nuisance…

Psyche watched as Kuroha began to emanate darkness, it was like he already was a black hole…but that could have been his imagination.

At this distraction, Kaneki gripped at Kuroha’s lower arm - Kuroha grinned wider. He could feel his humerus straining under the pressure, but was unfazed by the shooting pain that came when Kaneki finally broke it.

Kuroha leaned in, taking his other arm and gripping the centipede’s shoulder like a cold vice. “You… You’re fun.” And then he spun around faster than even a kakuja could process as he ripped Kaneki’s hand from his throat, twisting the half-ghoul’s own arm in the process. Kaneki only gave a distorted laugh and twisted himself further, ripping both his radius and his ulna away from his elbow just to go for a hit with his free arm. Kuroha caught it, easy, and Kaneki gave a grimacing smile as his arm untwisted and his insectile appendages went for the serpentine android. Just like that, Kuroha was gone. Then, so was Kaneki. Shirazu, Psyche, and Yoh were all struggling to keep up with the movements of the two on the ground and in the air, clashing again and again. It looked like Kuroha was just playing with him.

“Gotta—protect—gonna, eat? Hungry, I’m… I’m… Where’d, she?” Kaneki’s voice was warped, deranged.

Psyche slowly lowered his gun. Shirazu was staring in shocked awe, unsure whether to be fearful or not. Yoh was stock still in terror, breathing, “Monsters…” under his breath. These two, they were monsters. There was no way they could be considered anything else.

“The Master is heeere!” came the off-tune, sing-song tone from the mouth of the centipede, ever grinning. He twisted his head around to catch the moving Kuroha in his field of vision once more. “Snake, intestines, abdomen—gentle! Gentle! Gotta gently scramble your insides… Scramble, eggs like poached shit it tastes like he tastes like they taste like—I am so… hungry. Scramble, scramble, twist, and pull…”

Kuroha, gone in a flash, had disappeared.

“…Aa?”

Behind you!” shouted Shirazu, and Kaneki turned just as Tsukiyama made his flamboyant appearance, making himself out as a hero as he blocked the attack of his own teammate in order to protect Kaneki.

“Don’t you worry, Kaneki-kun! I, in this moment, shall be your shield!”

“Annoying brat,” Kuroha spat at the Gourmet. His annoyance shifted quickly to amusement when Kaneki latched onto Tsukiyama, all instinct as he tore into the Gourmet’s shoulder with his teeth.

“Kaneki-kun—?! Snap out of it!” Tsukiyama attempted to pry Kaneki from his shoulder.

Kaneki lifted his head. “…A…ah.

“Kaneki-kun?” All were watching with bated breath. Kuroha just thought it was cute.

“…Tastes…shitty,” Kaneki informed him brokenly, and his kagune pierced the air before whacking Tsukiyama across the area of battle and into a tree. Coincidentally, it was the tree right next to the one Yoh was hiding in. Yoh jumped, nearly falling out of the tree anyway as he unfroze from his fear paralysis.

Much to Tsukiyama’s disappointment, he had obviously not snapped him out of it. On the bright side, he seemed to be starting to come out of his black-out period, grabbing at his head and halting in fighting, gripping at his snow-white hair, spine curling forward as he hunched over. “Inside…insides… D…De…lic… Delic is…hurt… His insides, are…” As he spoke, his hardened kagune - his kakuja - disappeared, shriveling and shrinking into him. He raised his head. Tsukiyama had his hand on Kuroha’s shoulder. A warning that amused Kuroha pleasantly because it wasn’t the warning that kept him still at all. The Gourmet was no threat to him. He just wanted to watch the show. “Tsukiyama-san,” Kaneki said in surprise. “I, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I…”

“It’s fine, Kaneki-kun,” Tsukiyama began, but then Kaneki was at Shirazu and Delic’s sides.

“I, too…” said Kuroha, tilting his head, “…truly love a good tragedy.”

Kaneki looked at the serpent android with unease before turning to Shirazu. “Grab Psyche; we’re running,” said Kaneki seriously to Shirazu, scooping up Delic carefully in his arms. Delic grimaced but bit out a thanks. Kaneki looked at the Gourmet. “Thank you,” he said with a nod, and disappeared with Delic. Shirazu scrambled to get Psyche, in turn.

Yoh didn’t want to come down from the tree, but he did, nice and slow. He was shaky all over, though he didn’t notice the strangeness of his skin anymore because of how shaken up he was.  He slowly walked towards his fallen friend. Yeah, despite everything, he was a friend. On that day, so long ago, that Yoh had become a liar...he had also lost all trust in the people around them. No one was worth trusting. There was no point in truth. But this kid…this kid was so stupidly honest no matter what shit he went through. Yoh didn’t know how he did it.

He sat down beside Ganta Igarashi’s corpse, eyes flat.

Tsukiyama was lecturing the irate Kuroha about how he couldn’t touch Kaneki while Yoh was doing this. Eventually Tsukiyama excused himself and went over beside Yoh and the fallen Ganta, eyes regretful. Kuroha looked on the scene with utter disdain. Foolish mourning was far beneath the threshold of anything he deemed worth caring about. Humans truly were foolish… Perhaps ghouls were too, now that they were added into the equation. He chuckled lowly to himself and sat by a tree to await the ending of their goodbye rituals.

Tsukiyama did not recognize the sorrow that filled his chest, though he knew something was wrong. Holding a hand to his heart, he bowed to the deceased Ganta. “Je regrette, petit… Forgive me. I did not protect you. May you rest in peace…” And as he gazed at the body and at the silent Yoh, he contemplated Ganta’s similarities to the old Kaneki, the weak Kaneki…and wondered if perhaps that was part of where his affection stemmed. But of course, that couldn’t have been affection… Shuu Tsukiyama did not feel true affection save for towards his family, right? ‘Ganta could have been a friend,’ no… No, Ganta was just another exotic dish in the end…

Those two fights had left Tsukiyama quite famished, too… After all, it seemed that at least one of the limitations placed on a ghoul was that they got hungry if they either fought or used their kagune. He’d just gotten into two different battles today, and he had a hankering for some fresh cervello.

“Were you close to Ganta-kun?” Tsukiyama inquired.

Yoh looked at him. “I…” His eyes returned to the grass beneath him. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I was. He was annoying as all hell and was kind of a dumbass, but…”

Tsukiyama smiled a bit. For him to complain like this just after he died…they must have been friends. “Tell me about him.”

“Tell you…? Well… I dunno, he was accused of murdering his entire classroom and that’s why he’s in jail with me… Apparently he’d been wrongly accused, but…” He shrugged. “That weird blood power isn’t exactly normal in my world, so I don’t know what that’s all about. Ganta…he’s the idiot that trusts everyone, and then stays on their side even if he finds out they betrayed him. He’s that kind of guy. Stubborn little shit, too… Never gives up.”

Tsukiyama nodded. “Seems he was a boy worthy of respect. How old is he, I wonder?”

“Just fourteen,” Yoh said, glum.

Young meat is even better. “What a young age to die… Truly tragic.”

Yoh didn’t respond, and there was a pause before Tsukiyama turned to the fallen teammate and examined the body. The grass around him was red and slippery. “Yoh, if there’s one thing I must inform you in regards to the workings of a ghoul, it’s this…”

“Hm…,” Yoh answered, not looking at him. He was distracted with his thoughts of Ganta.

“Ghouls, in order to survive, must eat human flesh. Forgive me, but Ganta will no longer be needing this meat… Verzeihung; pardon.”

“Wait—” Yoh turned his head and watched as Tsukiyama leaned over Ganta’s cadaver and picked at the fragmented pieces of his skull before reaching his hand inside the cranium of Yoh’s dead friend to scoop out his brain. Yoh’s mouth was slightly agape in horror.

Kuroha was smiling.

Tsukiyama inspected the brain with care. “The brain is one of the best parts of a human, you know. Now, normally I’d be civilized and use a fork and knife for these things, but in this situation my hands will have to do. Excuse my poor manners. Bon appétit.


"I guess you could say he really is a Dead Man now, huh?”

“Shut the fuck up.” A grumbling voice. The former voice laughed. “That was terrible. You’re terrible.”

“Hey, the good news is that we’ve had our first casualty! Not only that, but Psyche is most certainly an active yandere now - not to mention Kaneki’s already gone Centipede once!”

“Yeah.” A disappointed answer. “This is all your fault.”

The clicking of a tongue. “Hardly. It’s not my fault Kuroha directed Psyche’s gun in that direction and dodged so that he’d die. I have to say, pretty impressive. Didn’t think he’d indirectly kill anyone. I do wonder if Delic will survive the injuries!"

“Me too,” responded the other voice, and they tuned back into the camera screens to watch the game unfold. “At least it’s finally interesting…”

Notes:

At last, the death count is no longer at zero! We'll see how things progress now that the first domino has fallen.

Chapter 10: Rave

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

A long time ago, Psyche and Delic were always at each other’s sides. This was back in the times of elementary school, where they’d look at the sky together and dream of maybe one day making a band. Psyche’s parents were neglectful, but Psyche was never lonely because he had his best friend and his best friend's mom to keep him happy.

Sixth grade is when everything fell apart. That year, Delic stopped smiling; the light left his eyes and he started snapping at little things. They stopped hanging out. Psyche had never told him, but this was also around the time when things started getting darker in his own head. The piano keys that played rainbows poured out buckets of rain, thunder and lightning. The sunrise that was the beautiful purple of flowers was actually the purple of bruises. The sunset that was alight with reds and oranges and yellows, a happy and excited sky - no, now that was a blazing fire.

For some reason, he couldn’t stop thinking in this way. He never had before. Instead of meeting someone and thinking how wonderful they were, he found their flaws and wanted to exploit them. He wanted to poke around in their heads to make them hurt, because somehow, he knew how to find those buttons. But no one would suspect he was doing it on purpose, because he was the innocent, happy, and childish Psyche!

He wanted to see their insides…

But he didn’t want to, not really. He was only being egged on by these horrid voices making circles in his head. He couldn’t shut them up.

He was okay for awhile so long as he knew Delic was by his side, even though he was acting strange. He tried to help Delic cheer up, getting more and more desperate to see his friend smile again as time went on.

The school year ended, and Delic told him their dream was dead. Then he moved away.

Pitch black.

Could he go back?

But he pretended his way through it and saw Delic again come senior year of high school. Everything lightened again. He felt like himself. They made the band, and they made it big. The dream was revived. All was well. Psyche was Psyche again, and Delic was Delic, after all this time. The voices dissipated. The crosswalks made music again, the moon turned back into glowing silver, and best of all, his music felt alive and happy again.

Psyche dared not even think of all those strange, grotesque thoughts that did not belong to himself. It was some kind of other Psyche, or something like that. Not him.

That is, until he had pressed that button for his own personal ‘special item.’ The moment his name was selected all he could see was white. The voices came back. The violent urges came back. The darkness came back. Everything came roaring back into focus, and he couldn’t help but gasp, filling his lungs with the white air. He was breathing milk, it felt so thick.

Although Psyche acted stupid, in actuality he was just as smart as Izaya Orihara. Since that special item had been attained, he’d been fighting and fighting with himself to return to Psyche being Psyche…but the moment Delic, his best friend, had been hurt, his mind flipped immediately to cold calculation. His eyes were ice even as he smiled sweetly, giggling as he shot.

When he saw someone that wasn’t his target fall to the ground from his hit, he only paused for a moment before trying again. The casualty was suddenly inconsequential to him. And the red that pooled in the grass around his victim’s head was vibrant as roses, a pond at sunset oozing from his insides after the initial spray. Even though the victim hadn’t been his target, there was a sense of cold satisfaction, because after all, he was still on the same side as the one who hurt Deli.

Hurting Deli, was unforgivable.

By now Psyche’s group was in the city, skirting the boundaries of the game field. Psyche was blank as he was carried by Shirazu, who was beginning to struggle after this much distance from where they began, at this speed and while carrying someone who, although pretty light, was nearly his size in stature.

“Jeez,” Shirazu grumbled through his jagged teeth. The buildings went by in a blur. “How much farther do we gotta go, Kanekun? I think we’re far enough…”

“I think,” Delic choked out, “that we could go on foreeever, man. Y’know—Kaneki. You’ve got nice abs; just sayin’. I can feel ‘em. Rock hard.”

“Ya really think now’s the time to talk about his muscles?!” Shirazu snapped, and Psyche smiled. Delic was still poking fun in his Delic way. That was a good sign.

“Thank you, Delic,” Kaneki answered plainly. The white-haired half-ghoul looked down. “Here,” he said, and stopped. Shirazu nearly ran into him, but stopped himself in time.

“Gimme a little more warning, will ya?”

“Sorry,” he answered distractedly, and walked to the door carefully.

“Whoa,” gasped Delic. “Whoa. Whoa. Tell me. Before we stop. We. We just stopped, right? Holy shit.”

Kaneki hushed him gently, and Psyche tapped at Shirazu to tell him to let him go. “I can go in and check for intruders!” he said brightly.

“Wait, Psyche—” Kaneki’s warning went unheard by the pink-loving singer as he pranced to the door, gun on hand. He only had three bullets left. He’d counted on the way here. He grinned at everyone, especially Delic. “No time,” said Kaneki simply, and Shirazu opened the door for all of them to enter in to the dim lighting of this building. Hopefully no one was inside.

The four found themselves face-to-face with Seidou Takizawa, pointing his crossbow quinque at Shirazu’s head - Shirazu had been the first to enter. Shirazu’s hands flew into the air. “We don’t mean no harm!” he cried.

Seidou stared.

“We need to help him,” Psyche pleaded.

Seidou Takizawa the ghoul investigator looked at Ken Kaneki the half-ghoul. The two stared at one another for some time before they seemed to come to some kind of silent agreement. Seidou lowered the quinque and gestured for everyone’s entry. “Hurry up; he’s losing blood.” He was filled with a sudden sense of urgency. It was rather overwhelming; his processes shifted to autopilot as he grabbed blankets to lay the injured on.

“Ss… Psyche?” Tsuki poked his head into the room, and Psyche’s group looked at him.

“H, hi Tsuki.” Psyche’s eyebrows were clinched together, his bright pink eyes all watery with the tears that were ready to spill.

Tsuki absorbed the situation, watching Delic as he fought to stay alive. “I…I’ll get the others—and, and my—my medical bag!” Tsuki hurried away.

Seidou, overcome by the sudden emergency, grew frantic. Seidou helped Kaneki lay Delic down, and Seidou looked at him again. A half-ghoul. Who was he, he wondered? Was it Eyepatch? He looked like a ghost to Seidou in the dim lighting with his white hair and pale skin. It was rather eerie. He felt as though someone just walked over his grave.

And yet, mouth dry, he decided that for now that didn’t matter. Whether or not Kaneki was a ghoul, and whether or not Seidou was a ghoul investigator… it didn’t matter. Right now, saving a life was priority, and it looked like this half-ghoul wanted him alive as much as Seidou did, as strange as that felt. Maybe Kaneki was just pretending.

Looking down at Delic, Seidou tuned back into the situation. He needed to focus. Shirazu and Psyche watched, tense. “Deli…will be okay, right?” Psyche’s voice was trembling. Shirazu awkwardly put his hand on Psyche’s back.

Delic was gasping for air. “Shit, shit, guys, this ain’t—some hospital show—”

“Don’t speak,” said Seidou, lifting Delic’s one and a half legs up.

“The fuck—?”

“Circulation,” Kaneki answered simply. “You need your blood.”

“Oh, yeah, Jesus…” Kaneki was ripping open Delic’s white jacket and the pink and black striped button-down beneath it. The buttons flew off with the force, but right now that was the least of their concerns. Kaneki then moved Delic’s black tie to the side swiftly before pressing Shirazu’s jacket to Delic’s stomach wound. Solar plexus; the demon hit his solar plexus.

Tsuki came running back in with his bag just then, Roppi and Shintaro following behind.

“Shintaro! Grab pillows!” Seidou commanded, and the red-jerseyed eighteen-year-old nodded mutely before running to grab some. Panic was beginning to infect everyone in the vicinity. Seidou in particular felt his throat constricting. Knowing to elevate his legs was about as far as he went with medical knowledge for this stuff. He had lost a lot of blood; wasn’t shock a risk?

“L-let’s compress, compress, compress the, his, his leg,” stammered Tsuki, rummaging quickly through his satchel. Everything was a static haze to him. Panic. Panic. Panic.

No one was calm. Even Roppi was standing, shocked at the scene and mumbling to himself, “The fuck did I miss…?” He brought his sleeve to his mouth to hide expression.

Kaneki felt Delic’s pulse: weak. His breath was shallow and halting; his lips were blue. His skin was pale and clammy. Everyone could see the way his skin shone even in the dim lighting. His dyed-blond hair was sticking to his forehead and looked more matted than anything. Delic Heiwajima, the charming and handsome young man, had been reduced to a withered thing, trembling and struggling for even a breath of air.

Shintaro ran in with the pillows, which Seidou put Delic’s legs on while Tsuki began wrapping up the half-leg as tightly as he could, making it into a tourniquet to stop the bleeding. Kaneki was pushing the hair out of Delic’s eyes, away from his forehead. Stroking his hair again and again; a soothing motion. “Alright, Delic, come on, now…” Kaneki’s voice was low and smooth, a lulling tone. “Keep on going, now; we’re almost there… If you make it through the blood loss, you can make it out, okay?”

“Okay, okay,” Delic repeated. “Wow, fuck, Tsuki, when did Tsuki get—? Ow, ow; I, Psyche?”

Psyche ran over to where Delic’s head was and knelt so that he could look over him where Delic could see easy. “I’m here, Deli! I’m here.”

“Oh—oh, man, hi— Hey, I wanna, I wanna say— Psyche, I’m sorry, I’m really—sorry.” He grimaced, screwing his hot pink eyes shut before opening them again. His childhood friend’s face was above him, but he was having trouble focusing on it. Everything was fading in and out. Delic was at a rave, the lights flashing and fading, flashing and fading, the beat of his heart was the beat of the music and he couldn’t dance, he was trippin’, he was trippin’ real bad because he was missing half a leg and his beat was getting too fast, too weak - he wanted the bass; he craved the bass; he wanted air so bad…

It was a party and no one was having fun. Join the club, we’re all hurting here - he hurt, it really hurt when that snake bastard had come out of nowhere and shoved his hand inside his stomach—

His abdomen had been violated. His abdomen had been violated. Delic had been violated. The red was everywhere, he was wet and unclean, everything was too hot even though he felt so cold. His hands to touch were getting all tingly, his lips to kiss were trembling and chilled. And all he could do was suck in the air and spit it back out; suck it in and spit it out.

Choking on his own fluid, he convulsed and spat up the color red. “I wish,” he forced out, “my—blood—were pink. Be awesome.”

“Deli…” Psyche’s tears were spilling, getting on Delic’s face even though Delic couldn’t feel it. It was getting hard to concentrate on anything even though he’d always lacked focus - no, this was worse than that. Way worse than that. He felt like he was pulling something in him, tighter and tighter, and it was about to snap off. He thought maybe it was his soul.

“So stupid,” Delic choked. “So stupid!” Seidou and Kaneki tried to comfort him, but Delic would not be quelled. He writhed, his voice getting louder and more forceful. “Stupid! I! Am! Ma, I’m so—rry, Psyche, Psyche, I’m sorry; holy fuck I’m sorry I’m so sorry and I can’t—I can’t get out what I wanna—what I wanna—say and I can’t— No way I’m gonna make it not fine, where did love go? Where the fuck did it go?! Right here! Right here! Right here!”

“Delic, calm down!” Kaneki ordered, voice strained.

“I—!” Delic’s chest seized and was still. His eyes stared upwards as he deflated slowly, a weak sigh escaping his blued lips. All was eerily quiet. Everyone was frozen in space and time. No movement. No breathing. Just heartbeats.

Seidou shakily moved to check Delic’s pulse, and found nothing. Put his ear to his chest and found nothing. His eyes were burning even though he didn’t know him. He shook his head, jaw tight.

“D, Deli, no, Deli… Delic…” Psyche whimpered and began to weep. Head bowed, he clutched at his dirtied white pants tightly.

Kaneki watched - childhood friends, one who tried to lighten the situation just like, just like—

This situation had hit too close to home - there was no way that Psyche should have to… There was no way that Delic had to die… “Delic, you can’t leave now,” Kaneki said hoarsely. “There is no need to apologize… I should have…protected you…” His head lowered. He reached out his hand to Psyche to let him know that he wasn’t alone. Psyche did not respond to the contact.

Shirazu stood there, lost. He wandered to the area behind Psyche and Kaneki before kneeling behind them to join them.

Seidou watched them. This incident had drained him. He was so tired. How horrible this was… This game was unfair and relentless…just as his world was. Why did things have to be this way? Nobody deserved this, did they?

Tsuki was pale and trembling, frozen. He hadn’t been much help at all, had he? He’d managed to stop the blood from Delic’s stump leg, but he’d already lost too much blood. He could never do enough, could he? And it was Delic, too…

Shintaro had sat down, even paler than he normally was, looking faint. Roppi stood next to him, staring and staring. Delic had been a perverse nuisance in his life, but to see what lies beneath the charming façade and watch him break down before his death was a bit much. Needless to say, he was shaken.

Somehow, the lights seemed to dim even further. There was no sound. All mourned the loss of a life; precious life.

A low voice rang out, quiet and yet earth-shattering in this heavy silence. “…I…didn’t protect him,” said Psyche. The room seemed to grow darker with these words. Roppi, who had only ever seen Psyche’s annoyingly childish mask, was uncomfortable seeing his vulnerability. Tsuki was just as bothered. “Deli and I…have been friends forever. I…should have… Why didn’t I protect him?”

Kaneki looked at Psyche. The words sounded eerily familiar to him; words that had come from his own mouth many times. “…Psyche, you can’t have been expected to save him. It wasn’t your fault. I will take responsibility…” Because I feel just as guilty. “I had already said that I’d protect all of you.”

“Then you’re saying…” Psyche’s generally high tones were low and cold. “You’re saying it was your fault that Deli died?” Roppi took a subconscious step back; Seidou, Shintaro, and Tsuki all looked at him with discomfort. Something about this was very wrong.

“I…,” Kaneki began, but couldn’t continue.

Shirazu stood up, between him and Psyche. “No way! No!” He was incredibly loud in comparison. His voice gave Roppi and Shintaro a headache. “No, ya know whose fault it is that this happened? It’s the guy who fuckin’ did it! Who else?! It was that dark dude with the snake eyes, and that’s all there is to it!”

“Konoha?” Shintaro whispered.

“He…killed Deli, that’s right.” Psyche looked up at Shirazu. Looking at him, Kaneki could see that there was something strangely… electric in his eyes that didn’t seem quite right. Psyche’s smile was still as childish as always, though it was stretched across a tear-streaked face. “So, we’ll pay him back somehow, right?”

“Yeah, you bet!” Shirazu vowed. “Not sure how, but…”

“We’ll figure something out…,” Kaneki nodded. “It’s going to need some teamwork involved, though… He can’t be defeated by just one group.”

“Well, uh…” Shirazu looked around at the other group.

Seidou looked at Roppi, Tsuki, and Shintaro. “…Are you suggesting an alliance?” Seidou inquired.

“Yes,” Kaneki nodded without hesitation. “There’s no reason for us to fight…in this place,” he added at the end, looking directly at Seidou.

Seidou nodded hesitantly before looking at his group. “What do you guys think?”

“It would be stupid to be against them now,” mumbled Roppi, averting his eyes.

“I-I would be happy to—to be on the same side as them,” Tsuki agreed.

“I’d prefer alliances over rivalries,” Shintaro sighed.

“As a unanimous agreement, I say that it’s fine,” Seidou nodded. “For now… I think we’ll leave you be…” Seidou looked down at his blue jacket - it was stained red at the bottom. “…You three deserve to mourn the fallen.” He looked at Roppi and Tsuki, who had also known Delic. “Roppi and Tsuki too…should take time to mourn. Shintaro and I will leave you all in peace for now. We’ve only been here for a few hours or so, but if you need food, we’ve found some. We’ll be just two doors down on the right. The bathrooms are at the end of the hall if you need them.” Seidou slowly stood, bowing respectfully before leaving with Shintaro. The room was left in silence.

Notes:

Even unlikely alliances can form under the right circumstances.

Chapter 11: Alliance

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“What do you mean ‘strange’?” Yukiteru asked, not understanding Keiichi’s question. They were standing in the kitchen of the household they had made their base - A-ya and C-ta were scouting the area west of the house, where none of them had gone yet. C-ta and Keiichi had decided it would be best to move after tonight, because staying in one place for too long was a bad idea. Tomorrow morning they’d be moving out. They’d all been safe so far, but who knew how long that would last?

“I mean,” Keiichi stressed, “don’t you think it’s weird at all that A-ya told us not to fight anyone? I mean, think about it. There are some pretty crazy people in this game. Why would A-ya ask us to do this when the game itself includes all of us being pitted against each other in the end? What’s even the point in teams, let alone alliances? What if the teams were just created as a ploy to give the killers the advantage of proximity, huh? If we’re all spread out, it’s harder to kill people…”

“Keiichi, I don’t think A-ya did anything wrong,” Yukiteru responded, brow furrowed in concern. “At least, I don’t think so… I think he just wants us all to get out alive, just like you and I. You know? I-I think that you’re just a little tense because of everything, maybe…”

“So you’re on his side too…,” he mumbled, lowering his head. His brown hair was shrouding his eyes again.

“K-Keiichi, I…I’m not on anyone’s side,” Yukiteru defended, nervous. “I mean…I don’t want to be a part of this game, and you don’t either, right…? I bet they don’t, too, so… Wh…why shouldn’t we make alliances, or stick together as a team? Why should we have to listen to that voice?”

“I’m not saying it isn’t a good idea, I’m just saying that maybe we shouldn’t all be so trusting of one another. You and I are from completely different worlds, and A-ya and C-ta are from another one entirely. We don’t know each other at all. Don’t trust easy, that’s all.”

“Well…I guess that’s a good point…” Yukiteru scratched at his temple.

“Think on it,” Keiichi said, and looked at the diary owner. His eyes were piercing. Yukiteru swallowed. Keiichi turned away and walked out the door. “I’m gonna practice with my bat on a tree. Don’t know when we’ll have attackers or anything,” he said dismissively, and left. Yukiteru was left alone in the kitchen.

Something had changed about Keiichi; Yukiteru could tell that much. He was so positive and open-minded about everything just yesterday, but now he seemed so suspicious and one-tracked… He guessed it was just from all the worry for what might happen in this game. It sure was scary… In retrospect, Yukiteru guessed he should be impressed with how well the four of them were doing, all things considered. Admittedly, it was pretty weird that they hadn’t come across any other groups yet, but they also didn’t know how big the game area was, or whether it was just pure luck that had kept them safe so far.

With a sigh, Yukiteru sat on a stool by the counter. This was all so tiring. He still had little to no idea what was really going on or the real reason they were here… Like, why were they chosen in particular, anyway? Why him? Well, why Keiichi, even? It was all so strange… And from so many different alternate realities, too…

Despite all of this, though, Yukiteru had to say that there were a few good things to come out of this… Like, if they hadn’t come here, he wouldn’t have met A-ya. Looking up at the ceiling and unable to keep himself from smiling, Yukiteru anticipated the coming evening, hoping that perhaps they could have a one-on-one chat again. It sure was nice.

He really hoped he’d made a friend… He also hoped that he wouldn’t lose him. Ah, but time would tell, right? Closing his eyes, he stuck his hands in his pockets - his fingers brushed against the holder for his darts, and he paused. Pulling one of the darts out and looking at it, he listened to the rhythmic banging of wood on wood outside as Keiichi practiced his swing. Fingers closing around his small weapon, Yukiteru decided that perhaps he’d start practicing on targets. Keiichi was right about one thing - this wasn’t something they could be too carefree about, that was for sure. It was better to get serious now rather than later.

With that, he went to practice in the living room.


 

“So you’re saying that this thing has to sleep for however many hours of the day,” Ciel said skeptically, eyes scrutinizing Shinichi’s sheepish expression.

“Well, uh…” Shinichi ran his fingers through his hair, scratching at the back of his scalp. “…Yeah, pretty much. It’s been like this since…well…”

“And you didn’t find it important to tell us…why?” Ciel crossed his arms.

Sebastian merely stood with one hand to his chest, his other gripped behind his back. A smile touched his lips in vague amusement.

“It…slipped my mind,” Shinichi answered lamely.

“Well, it’s no matter,” Sebastian smiled in his cold way. “I can take care of any situation that comes to pass just fine.”

“…Yeah, I’ve got it,” Shinichi nodded. He didn’t very much like this demon butler. He was as cold and calculating as Migi, but more so than that, he just seemed…ah, he didn’t know - inconsiderate? He wanted to take everything into his own hands, and he felt confident in it. Shinichi supposed he was right in thinking he would handle it on his own, but he felt maybe just a little bit underestimated, disregarded. As for this kid, well, he seemed simply arrogant and smug. Not that he bothered him as much, really, since obviously he just had privileges of the upper class in 19th century London as all.

The point we get to is that Shinichi didn’t much like Sebastian.

Ciel, on the other hand, didn’t much like Shinichi. “No, wait,” Ciel interrupted the dismissive nature of the conversation, bringing it back up again. “You failed to inform us such a huge weakness as that, and you let that other group go? Why exactly did you do that, anyhow?” He seemed miffed.

“Look, if I were to be honest…well, I just don’t see the point in this game,” Shinichi admitted. “There’s no reason for everyone to have to slaughter each other just for the right to go home… Come to think of it, I don’t even know if winning will get us the right to go home - the voice never said that. But…I don’t know, they were just humans. They didn’t do anything wrong, did they?”

“All humans do something wrong,” Ciel sniffed.

“Well…yeah, but…” His brow furrowed. “You know, they didn’t…well, they did attack us, but I bet they just want to go home too. You’d have wanted to attack them if you saw them first, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course. Once they’re eliminated, that’s one less group to worry about,” Ciel nodded.

“They were probably thinking the same thing… They just want to survive, that’s all.”

“Exactly! There’s the truth - everyone here just wants to survive, get it? The world is a place of survival once you get down to it, and those that do everything in their power to survive, do. Those who protect are hurt or killed; that’s how life works. The weak are trampled; the strong make it out. You have to fight. You have to protect yourself and only yourself. If you don’t, you’re doomed.” The young boy looked at Shinichi with bitter eyes. “That is what’s truth.”

Shinichi gazed at him, wondering what it was that had brought that bitterness into this kid - what was he, twelve? Something extreme had to have happened, though he didn’t know what. Sighing lightly, Shinichi nodded. “I know… You’re not wrong,” he conceded. And he wasn’t. In the scheme of things, Shinichi figured that maybe now wasn’t the best time to be thinking of the value of others’ lives. If someone attacked their group, they had to fight back, and that was that.

Sebastian was smiling with closed eyes, pleased by the delightful mix of purity and bitterness in his young master’s soul. It was certainly a delicacy, one that he’d let no one else touch.

“But if we see those guys again, we’ll get them, alright?” Shinichi added. “From now on, if anyone attacks, I’ll fight back full force. If they try to come in peace, though, I’m not fighting. In fact, I might stop you.”

Ciel scoffed. “No one here is to be trusted, you know. I don’t even trust you.”

“That’s fine,” Shinichi answered. “I never asked for your trust. I don’t know that I trust either of you, to be fair. …But unlike my hand and your butler, I do want to work together. And if there does come a time that Sebastian is struggling with an opponent, I will do my best to make sure you’re safe, Ciel.”

“I can assure you that won’t—” Sebastian began, but Ciel raised his hand to silence him. Sebastian looked ever so slightly annoyed.

“I doubt that situation will come, but if - and only if - it does, you can prove that to me in time.” He looked at Shinichi with a wry kind of half-smile. “Until some kind of dire situation occurs, we’ll simply have to guess at each other’s character.”

Looking at him, Shinichi gave a small nod and a slight smile of his own. “Yeah.”

“That might be quite awhile with doubt,” commented Sebastian.

“Well, I don’t doubt you, and he knows his possessed hand just fine, so I think it’s alright,” Ciel said matter-of-factly, and Sebastian chuckled softly.

“I do suppose you’re right, young master.”


 

It seemed like forever that Seidou Takizawa and Shintaro Kisaragi sat alone on an old and tattered two-cushion couch, waiting for the return of either their teammates or the members of Group 1. Neither of them spoke to one another. It was a very quiet thing.

Roppi came back first, with Tsuki trailing behind confusedly. Seidou asked what the fallen had been like when he was alive, so he could better grieve with them. As Tsuki haltingly explained that he’d been a loud and boisterous party-lover that had a living as a pop idol, Seidou couldn’t help but notice Shintaro go pale.

All the red-clad hikkiNEET could think of was his sister, another idol who had dyed her hair blond and was friendly to everyone, always cheerful. She was certainly not as flirtatious as Tsuki described, but it made his blood run cold thinking someone like her had just died. It gave the situation vivid clarity. He thought of the red pooling on the ground - why did the color of heroes have to be so morbid and cruel? His own hero had said that it was a good and heroic color, but then she had killed herself. He’d bet that there was surely much of the color she so loved on the ground around her too, that summer afternoon she had jumped from the school rooftop.

He thought of his confrontation with his hero on the bridge, the way he’d yelled at her. The way he’d rejected her friendship, rejected the fact that she cared. He thought of how he’d found out she’d committed suicide right after that. (My fault.) Thought of how ever since then, he’d wondered about whether her smile had been honest. He wondered whether his sister’s smile was honest. He wondered whether Delic’s had been. He wondered how honest anyone’s smile was, and he thought of the color of heroes around his hero, around Delic, and then around his sister and all he was doing to himself was sending his thoughts spiraling even though he really truly hated this, but he couldn’t stop the way they tumbled…

Seidou comforted Shintaro when he began to tremble with unshed tears, Tsuki tentatively approaching to aid him even though he had no idea what he could do to help. They thought it had to do with watching Delic die, but it was more than that. They couldn’t possibly understand.

Roppi did, averting his gaze with his sleeve over the bottom half of his face. He figured it was something more, but didn’t know what. He didn’t say anything. Didn’t ask, didn’t tell. More silence. Ken Kaneki and Ginshi Shirazu came out next, though Kaneki insisted upon heading off to be alone, and didn’t come back for some time. It wasn’t until Shirazu went to get him that he joined the others in that room. Psyche still remained in the other place with the deceased Delic. They all agreed they’d leave him be for awhile. A discussion between the two groups commenced, initiated by Shirazu.

“…So, uh, if we’re makin’ an alliance, why don’t we get ta know one another a little?” suggested Shirazu, attempting to ease away the discomfort and tension.

Roppi shrugged. “We—we already know Psyche, so…so that part’s fine,” said Tsuki, twiddling his thumbs. His eyes were still a bit puffy, as he had been crying too. Delic was family to him - they were made from the same person, after all: Shizuo Heiwajima.

“Well, I think I remember hearing that you worked for the CCG?” Seidou said, pointing at Shirazu and squinting.

“Yup, that’s right,” Shirazu grinned. “Right now, or where I’m from, I’m the leader of the Q’s.”

“But,” Seidou pressed, “you said you were an artificial half-ghoul?”

“Yup,” Shirazu confirmed, rubbing the back of his head. “I definitely work for the CCG though. I was a part of a project formed by the CCG, actually, somethin’ like the production of human quinques. Me and three others were a part of it, and I’m their leader. Pretty cool, huh?”

Seidou looked stunned. “The CCG would do that…?”

“Yeah, you must be from the past like Kaneki, or somethin’,” Shirazu shrugged.

Kaneki nodded. “He and I have already worked out that we’re from different time periods,” Kaneki explained to Seidou. “I’m from around six months after the CCG raided the Aogiri base; have you done that?”

“Oh, yeah yeah! Ah…how long ago was that…” Seidou frowned a bit as he thought, folding his arms and furrowing his brow. “I think…we might be from the same time, then.”

“Yeah, I’m from a little after a huge-ass auction raid, which is, like, way in the future. Like, by three years or something. Or less. I dunno,” said Shirazu. “What’s your name, again?”

“I’m Seidou Takizawa,” said Seidou, who then nodded at Shintaro. “That’s Shintaro Kisaragi, and then there’s Roppi and Tsuki over there - that’s just what they like to be called.”

Shirazu nodded. “Yeah, I dunno; haven’t heard your name, I don’t think… But ya do look kinda familiar. What ward’re ya workin’ in?”

“The twentieth,” Seidou replied simply. “I’m working on the Gourmet case.”

Kaneki softly cleared his throat. Roppi and Tsuki looked at him.

“The, Gourmet? I dunno that one. Might make sense, though, ‘cause I work in the first ward. Never heard your name… Hm… I hope you’re not dead, or somethin’…”

Seidou shifted, brow furrowing once again. “Well, I hope not either.”

“But maybe ya know some of the people I do know!” Shirazu suggested.

Seidou rubbed the back of his head. “Um… Like who?”

“Like, you’ve totally gotta know Arima.”

Seidou rolled his eyes. “Who doesn’t know Arima? He’s the Shinigami of the CCG. Hmm… I don’t suppose you’ve heard of Koutarou Amon?”

“Nah, never heard of ‘im. What about Juuzou Suzuya? He’s a badass, man, Special Class.”

Seidou was shocked. “Suzuya’s a Special Class?” He sighed heavily, hanging his head. “He’s only a Rank 2 like me where I’m from… I wonder if I ever get promoted…,” he said hopelessly.

“Oh!” How could Shirazu forget? “Of course; you’ve gotta know Akira Mado; everyone knows her.”

“…”

“She’s like, the holy mother of the CCG, y’know?”

“Mado…,” Kaneki repeated, touching his chin. He was thinking of that silver-haired investigator that had been after Hinami all that time ago. Turns out he was the father of the girl mentioned.

“‘Holy Mother’… Seriously?” Seidou laughed drily. His tone had suddenly changed. Roppi frowned a bit; Tsuki adjusted his glasses confusedly. “Ugh, I can’t believe this… No, I definitely can…” His face went to his hands. “This only figures… I should have guessed… Yeah, I know Akira. She was in my graduating class.”

“Wow, really?” Shirazu was excited. He seemed the only one oblivious to the change in atmosphere. “Didja like her? Was she cool?”

Kaneki put a hand on his shoulder to tell him to stop.

Seidou looked at Shirazu; his mouth twitched. “I—no. I didn’t. I didn’t like her at all.” His eyes shifted to the ground, brown-eyed gaze clouded. “It’s like she doesn’t even care about what she does… Like she doesn’t even try…” Yes, the valedictorian of their graduating class - maybe he wouldn’t be so mad at her if she just acted more like she gave a shit. But she didn’t. And yeah, she was better than him and he knew that… He was never enough. Always number two. It was no wonder this kid from the future had no idea who he was…

Head lowered, it was as though a new kind of dark cloud had settled in the room. Even Shintaro, who had been leaning forward with his head down, looked at Seidou curiously.

“Shit…what’d I do?” Shirazu asked blankly, scratching the back of his head.

“Nothing,” Seidou sighed.

There was an uncomfortable pause. Shintaro, Roppi, and Tsuki, who weren’t really a part of the conversation as they were from different realms, all looked at one another. Shirazu eventually spoke up again. “…But, ah, Kaneki here, he’s, um, also an artificial half-ghoul, even though I’m not sure what happened to him. When I’m from, he’s a CCG investigator too.”

What?” Seidou’s jaw dropped, incredulous. “Him?” He looked at Kaneki, eyes guarded as he scrutinized him. “Who are you, anyway? Ghoul-wise?”

He touched his chin, hesitant. “Ah, I would be Eyepatch…”

“Eyepatch, the one Amon’s after—what?” Seidou stood, hand to his head. “No way! A half-ghoul, a CCG officer? The CCG did that? Since when? Why? How?”

“I find it to be pretty crazy myself,” Kaneki laughed a bit.

“It kinda proves to you that this guy’s a good guy, though, right? So ya don’t hafta worry too much about him tryin’ ta eat ya or nothin’, ‘cause he’s cool; it’s all good. He’s on our side.”

“Well…” Kaneki touched his chin. “…Yes, absolutely - I want to ensure the safety of everyone here.” That wasn’t to say he was on the side of the CCG… He was still a bit perplexed as to how he joined the organization, or why they even let him in. He guessed it had something to do with him losing his memories. He guessed that he’d find that out in the future, if he ever made it back. Not that he’d really figure anything out, considering he wouldn’t remember…

“Well…” Seidou crossed his arms, leaning back in his seat on the couch. “I guess… I mean, it’s not like either of you are full ghouls, so… And, neither of you were born like this, either, right? So it makes sense, I think…”

Kaneki nodded, deciding to keep it to himself for now his opinion on ghouls: how they feel and think just as humans do, and shouldn’t be killed thoughtlessly. That would be a different discussion for if he and Takizawa were comfortable enough around one another.

“So, what about you guys, then?” Shirazu piped up, shifting the topic as he redirected the attention onto Shintaro, Roppi, and Tsuki. “What are your situations like? I mean, Seidou and I work at an anti-ghoul organization, and Kaneki’s…I dunno, but he’s from our realm.” Kaneki shrugged in agreement to the vagueness of his description. He didn’t really want to talk much about himself, anyway.

“Uh… W-well, Roppi and I… um, we’re from the same—same world as Psyche, so… Psyche… he’s an idol, and I—I’m just a de-delivery boy, r-really.” He shrugged. “W-we all live in the city… R-Roppi and I, we’re very close… Um…” Tsuki rubbed the back of his head, unable to come up with anything else.

“Basically our lives are uninteresting in comparison,” said Roppi dully. “Go on.”

Everyone looked at Shintaro, who stiffened, beginning to sweat. “I—um—I—well you see—I’m, totally uh, I’m a… successful… gamer…?” He swallowed.

“What the hell does that mean,” Roppi inquired, tone flat.

“I—I mean… uh… well… I’m actually a reviewer for—ugh, I’m a shut-in, okay?” He hung his head in shame.

“One of my teammates back home is a shut-in,” Shirazu remarked. “Well, she was for awhile; a complete hikkiNEET. But she came around eventually. She still doesn’t do anything for shit, though.”

“Oh, really…,” Shintaro answered weakly.

“Yeah, her name’s Saiko and she’s a freakin’ great gamer, too. Got blue hair in pigtails, real short and kinda fat…”

“You shouldn’t say that about a girl,” Kaneki said dismissively.

“Sorry, Sassan—I mean, uh, Kaneki.”

Shintaro had shuddered at the description of Saiko. It reminded him of his blue-clad computer virus, Ene. God, if there was one thing good that came out of this, it was the fact she wasn’t around to bother him in everything he did…

…Without her annoying pestering, actually, it was almost lonely.

After waving off Shirazu for his name blunder, Kaneki approached Roppi carefully. “You injured your arm? Is it broken?”

“Yeah,” Roppi sighed, irritated. “It still feels weird, but Tsuki set it alright…”

“…May I?” inquired Kaneki, and Roppi shrugged.

“Just don’t fuck it up even worse.” Roppi granted Kaneki access to his appendage. “And… don’t roll up the sleeve. I like it that low. Keep it there, or I’ll be pissed.”

“Alright, that’s fine.” Kaneki examined Roppi’s arm with tentative fingers while Shirazu, Shintaro, and Seidou all had their own conversation in the background. Tsuki was watching with bated breath.

“I—I didn’t do something wr-wrong, d-did I?” Tsuki asked, worried.

“It feels like you put the ulna back in place just fine, actually…” Kaneki began, “…but whatever happened to you, Roppi, it both broke the ulna and the radius. Both bones in the lower arm are fractured, but only one is set. That’s probably why it feels so strange. It’ll hurt more this way, too, and it won’t heal right…”

“O-oh…I-I’m sorry, Roppi…”

“Whatever, Tsuki.” Roppi rolled his eyes. “As if you’ve set a broken bone before.”

“I…well, th-that’s true…”

“May I set both bones correctly?” Kaneki was very polite.

Roppi kept his eyes from making contact. “Yeah. I guess. Elsewhere.” There was a pause before he wordlessly left the room, Kaneki blinking before following behind him. Tsuki walked after them and back a few times before finally following them.

The conversation between Seidou, Shintaro, and Shirazu had shifted to what each group had faced thus far. “I definitely underestimated the strength of a demon… I still feel kinda terrible,” Seidou smiled weakly, rubbing at the back of his head. “Shintaro got us out of that one, though,” he added, nudging the NEET.

“Um, yeah, kinda,” Shintaro shifted nervously.

“Alright, alright, so the butler dude’s one ya gotta watch out for,” Shirazu nodded his head, absorbing the information, if slowly. “But the guy with the freaky hand’s alright, huh?”

“Yeah…if it weren’t for him, Roppi might not be here…,” Seidou confirmed soberly, looking in the direction he and the other two had gone. Guilt gnawed at his insides even though he knew it was a ‘what if’ thought. His incompetence was heavy and tight in his chest, threatening to crush his rib cage.

“I don’t know that I would, either,” Shintaro added, shifting again. “I kinda threw myself to the wolves, there, um…”

“And thank god you did; you were amazing. What you did was a hero’s move.” Seidou nodded matter-of-factly. Shintaro looked as though he’d been struck in the face, but Shirazu, not noticing, continued with the topic:

“Yeah, we only went against one group too, which happened to be the one with the other demon guy - say, I think that was the one with the gourmet, too, go figure!”

“That’s right…” Seidou crossed his arms, thinking. “What did the gourmet act like in battle?”

“Actually, he protected us, which kinda weirded me out because…y’know, he’s a ghoul ‘n all.” He scratched at his temple as he remembered the scene, then thought of Delic and looked at the ground.

“Really… That is strange…” Seidou put a hand to his mouth, musing over the possibilities.

“Uh…you said that the android was the one that dealt the most damage, right…?” Shintaro inquired tentatively, knuckles white as he gripped the cushion beneath him.

“Um, yeah, why d’ya ask?” Shirazu tilted his head.

“That guy…” Shintaro shifted his gaze around, not looking at Shirazu. “I know him. He’s a…uh, friend, I guess… But…he’s definitely not acting like normal…” Focus returning, he looked at the nineteen-year-old with concerned grey eyes. “His name is Konoha and his hair should be white. He’s slow as a snail and can’t even tell the bathroom from the washroom - he loves barbeque and triceratops and all sorts of weird things. He’s kinda airheaded and really forgetful, but… But he’s not this guy that murdered your friend, okay? He’s the nicest person, wouldn’t hurt anything unless it threatened a friend…” He frowned, looking at the ground again. “…I think…”

“Well, remember, Shintaro, didn’t he say he was possessed?” asked Seidou.

“Yeah, yeah! Your friend’s probably the actual android, instead of the freaky-ass snake possessing him!” Shirazu agreed whole-heartedly, all excited.

“Since when can anyone from my world get possessed, though?!” Shintaro cried, hands flying to his head. “And since when was he actually an android? What the hell?!”

“I dunno, man, guess there’s some stuff goin’ on in your world ya don’t know about,” Shirazu shrugged.

“Yeah, I guess you’re finding out in a pretty terrible way, though…” Seidou sighed.

“But—! But what about everyone that’s probably planning on trying to kill him because of the demon or snake or whatever?! Aren’t they gonna kill Konoha, too…?” Shintaro hung his head.

“That’s…a good question.” Shirazu’s brow was furrowed with thought and concern. He had no idea what to offer in consolation, nor did Seidou.

“We’ll figure something out,” said Seidou. “This game’s already crazy enough, it only figures it’ll get crazier, right? I’m sure we’ll come up with something…”

It was now that Psyche wandered into the room like a wraith, albeit one that smiled. “…Ah.”

“Psyche!” Shirazu went straight over to him.

“Shira-chan…say, where’re Kane-kun and Hachi and Tsuki?” Psyche asked, tilting his head, eyes blank though his smile was childish as always.

“I think they’re helping Roppi with his arm,” said Seidou.

“Oh, okay,” Psyche nodded. “Do ya think, maybe Kane-kun wants some of Deli… because he needs to eat?”

Shirazu looked at Psyche, opening and closing his mouth without forming any words. “…Euh…” He looked at Seidou incredulously. Shintaro looked slightly horrified and Seidou looked rather bothered. “I…” He looked back at Psyche. “I dunno whether he’d want to eat him… He was a friend, so he might not…”

“Okay,” Psyche answered.

“Although,” Seidou piped up, changing the subject swiftly, “there’s something I want to show your group once the others are back.”

“Okie-dokie,” Psyche beamed. “Sounds fun!” His tear-streaked, puffy-eyed face contrasted with the brightness of his voice, but there was nothing more to do to help the fact that Delic was gone. No one mentioned the fact that much of his white outfit was stained red. Shirazu effectively brought Psyche into the conversation, and the four of them conversed while they waited for the return of the other three.

Notes:

I love a nice dose of dramatic irony.

Chapter 12: Inquiries

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Kuroha turned his left hand from side to side, listening to the grinding and clicking of the bones in his lower arm. Yoh, Deceiver #2, was still sitting empty-eyed beside the dead Bleeding Heart, Ganta. He guessed he was Bleeding Head now, huh. Haha.

Tsukiyama was sitting against a tree, head down, looking dejected. His hand was at his mouth. He’d jerked to attention after the taste of Ganta had hit him - it was sour! He’d never experienced such a taste! Now the tartness was still in his mouth, tangy and bothersome, never leaving. He was mumbling something about Ganta’s deceivingly sweet scent in the meantime.

While they did their thing, Kuroha continued toying with his arm, musing over the injury. Looking down at his side, he pressed his hand to the bullet wound for a moment before sticking his fingers inside the injury and scooping out the bullet. He held his hand over the injury after the fact, staring curiously at his broken arm. His muscles and tendons were fine, but that Centipede boy had certainly fractured his bone. Of course, that wasn’t the thing that surprised him about this situation…no, what intrigued him was the fact that his body wasn’t healing itself as it usually did.

Kuroha was a snake of regeneration, especially when in possession of this particular android’s body… Konoha’s shell made for a perfect vessel, and it never ran down because its ability was simply healing itself, editing itself. There was no end to the modifications the original Konoha could make to his body, which was surely part of why this ‘android’ body was so strong. Kuroha could let loose in this body without worry of human repercussions… That is, until now. He was still far more free than if he were possessing a simple human form, that’s true, but it was certainly an interesting development that he couldn’t heal himself any longer… Perhaps this had to do with those limitations mentioned in the beginning of this game? How was it, he wondered, that that voice could limit him, the Clearing Eyes Snake?

He had to say, he was pretty impressed. He couldn’t wait to kill them and taste the despair of their dying moments.

As for the Gourmet, he’d mentioned being hungry, hadn’t he? That was why he’d wanted to eat the Bleeding Heart, wasn’t it? And that Centipede had also said he was hungry. The Gourmet had also said to the group in the very beginning that his species only had to eat once a month. Assuming it was the same for Centipede, who only seemed to have one ‘ghoul’ eye instead of both, was it perhaps another limitation to need food more often? Or were they both coincidentally nearing the end of their feeding cycle?

Interesting… It was all very interesting. He was looking forward to finding who was in charge of this game.

Smiling at the thought, he got to his feet once more. “That’s enough time worrying over petty human things,” he said, looking disdainfully at Yoh. “Let’s go.”

Tsukiyama went to Yoh and offered him a hand, but was refused. The three remaining of the group thus continued on their way through this game.


 

“A special item pillar?” asked Shirazu as Seidou led everyone to the place they’d gotten their medical bag as Tsuki’s ‘special item.’

“Yeah, that’s what it is; you’ve found one already?” Seidou tilted his head slightly.

“There was one in the wooded area to the southeast,” Kaneki responded.

“Yeah,” huffed Shirazu. “No way we’re goin’ back there straightaway. Plus, the special item we got didn’t do shit.”

Psyche, in the background, was smiling pleasantly.

“Will this thing work twice?” asked Roppi flatly, holding his newly set and casted arm with care.

“Maybe for a different group…,” said Shintaro.

“Will it work without, uh…y’know.” Shirazu didn’t finish his question. They knew he meant Delic.

Kaneki shrugged, and the three of them approached the pillar. Seidou gestured to his group to step back, and all four of them did so. “Maybe this time you won’t be as unlucky,” Seidou suggested with an apologetic smile.

“Maybe,” said Psyche thoughtfully, and the hologram flickered to life before them.

Welcome, remainder of Group 1! Seems you’ve befriended Group 2, huh? Thinking a bit outside the box, aren’t we? Well!” A slight pause. “Don’t you worry, because you can still select a new item! How cool is that? Because Psyche Orihara has already chosen an item, there is a new special item to be selected for him. On the other hand…” Another pause. “...You can also choose to ask one question, only one! That will be your fourth option! I’ll stick around in case you decide to ask.” The pink selection screen showed up, the hologram projecting itself further to the side so it was out of the way.

The three of the group looked at one another before approaching the screen to look at its new contents.

<Ken Kaneki> ............... [FastForward/Rewind]
<Ginshi Shirazu> ........... [Ghoul Activation]
<Psyche Orihara>............ [Song of Madness Abil.]
<Delic Heiwajima>........... [Weapon Upgrade/Switch Out]

“Song of Madness, huh…?” Psyche tilted his head. “Sounds cool.”

“One question…,” Kaneki mused, touching his chin.

“What would we ask, though?” asked Shirazu, scratching his head.

Well,” began the hologram, but Shirazu cut it off irately: “No, man, that ain’t the question!”

“If you would,” said Kaneki, “allow us to discuss the question before we ask it officially.”

“…Aaalrighty!

The half-ghoul frowned a bit, admittedly annoyed with this person. He turned to his group members while gesturing to Group 2 to join in the discussion.

Shintaro scratched at his head. “Aa, I don’t know what to ask, either…”

“How about, ‘Who the hell are ya?’” suggested Shirazu in grumbling tones.

“But that won’t do much for us if none of us know them,” Seidou came in. “With so many different realities mixing here, I don’t really expect any of us to have even heard of this guy…”

“And what if we had, huh?”

“But we don’t know that,” said Kaneki. “Let’s try to come up with something that will best ensure helpful information.”

“Wh…what if… um…” Tsuki shifted uncomfortably as everyone looked at him. “U-um…never mind.”

“No, go for it,” Seidou encouraged, and Tsuki looked down, still red in the face as usual.

“Wh…what if we just asked them why they were doing this…?”

“Eh, but they might give a stupid answer,” Roppi said dismissively. “Like ‘because it’s fun,’ or ‘because I was bored.’ What about how the hell did they manage getting all of us here?”

“That’s a good one,” Seidou nodded. “I mean, there are demons here, and a delivery god, too, whatever that means. With people as strong as that android guy Kuroha or that butler Sebastian, how would anyone manage that…? And to place limits on them…”

“But then,” Kaneki pointed out, “couldn’t they just say ‘because I’m strong,’ if that’s really the case?”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right…” Seidou puckered his lips in disappointment.

“What if we asked them what Kuroha’s weakness is, or the weaknesses of the three strongest?” Psyche piped up, a hint of darkness in his tone even though he was rocking on the balls of his feet, cheerful and childish. “Maybe then we’ll better know how to defeat them! Huh? Huh?”

“Yeah, I like that one!” Shirazu agreed whole-heartedly.

“That would be ideal for if we wanted to defeat them…” Kaneki touched his chin, glancing at Shintaro. Now that Kaneki knew that Kuroha was only possessed, he was slightly more hesitant in wanting to kill him. If they could just get rid of the demon, that would be great… They could ask how to extract the dark one, but the answer might be that they couldn’t at all…

“Or,” Shintaro said softly, “we could ask whether this game has ever happened before. Or whether they can bring back the dead, since there are people from different time periods here… Or…or whether the people closest to us are alright, back where we’re from… right?”

The others went quiet.

“They…had better not be messin’ with the people close to us,” Shirazu said uncertainly.

“Close?” Psyche repeated. “I have Deli. And Roppi-san, and Tsuki, and Izaya-san. I mean…unless…” His eyes widened. “Tsu?”

“Now, I’m sure it’s fine, Psyche,” Kaneki soothed. “We don’t know that they have anyone close to us…” …Like Touka, Hinami, anyone of Anteiku… …Or Hide…

“If they have my li’l sis or any of the Q’s, I’m killin’ ‘em by my own hands!” Shirazu vowed.

“If they were to do that,” Seidou frowned, “that’d be low.”

Roppi scoffed. “I’d get it. Yeah, the moment people are finally smart enough to stop fighting they’re hit with a ‘by the way, if you don’t keep fighting, this person will die.’ But there’s a flaw in that, you know, since there are very, very few people I’d actually care for if they died because of me. Usually, I could care less.” He snickered mirthlessly.

Even if it were your own mother?” inquired the voice with an eerie smile, and Roppi stopped laughing. He looked shocked, as though someone had just thrown ice cold water on him, stealing his breath and the words that came with it.

“…My mother…” Roppi began, teeth clenched and tone a growl, “…is already dead, you piece of shit.” He started for the hologram, his anger festering into outrage. The hologram glitched a few times. All the others were taken aback by the outburst. “Do you know how fucking happy I am? I’d let her die again and again, you motherfucker! Who do you think you are?”

“R-Roppi, stop!” Tsuki cried, holding him back. Seidou helped while Shintaro stood there helplessly.

“It’s…um…it’s only a hologram,” Shintaro pointed out lamely.

“…I know that,” Roppi snapped, jerking away from them eventually only to retreat to the wall, hissing things under his breath. Tsuki crouched beside him, unsure what to do.

Shirazu scratched at his temple, brow furrowed in sympathy. Something was rough there… Just ‘cause you have parents doesn’t mean you’ll have good ones… Shirazu looked down.

Psyche looked sad. “Roppi…” Roppi only turned his head away from the others, wishing they’d stop looking as well as wishing he hadn’t blown up.

“I guess it’s agreed we ask about our loved ones?” asked Kaneki, and there was solemn agreement from the group. He looked at the hologram coldly. “Alright, tell us whether our loved ones are doing alright…rather… How are our loved ones doing and what are they doing…in our individual perceptions of the present?”

So!” said the hologram. “As you’ve said ‘loved ones,’ I will take into consideration the closest people to each and every one of the individuals here. As an apology for my unnecessary prodding at Hachimenroppi, I’ll do the honor of answering this for Group 2 as well. How’s that?” There was some grudging nods. “Alright, well, I’m going under the assumption of these loved ones in particular: Delic Heiwajima, Tsugaru Heiwajima, Izaya Orihara, Touka Kirishima, Hinami Fueguchi, Hideyoshi Nagachika, Haru Shirazu, Tooru Mutsuki, Saiko Yonebayashi, Shizuo Tsukishima, Izaya Hachimenroppi, Ene, Momo Kisaragi, Ayano Tateyama, Seina Takizawa, Michie Takizawa, and Akira Mado.

“Now, wait a minute—” Seidou began to argue, upset by the insertion of Akira. Maybe she meant for Shirazu? But she came right after his mother and sister, so… Don’t tell me this stupid hologram considers Akira to be close to me…

“Man, this dude knows waaay too much,” Shirazu said, looking extremely uncomfortable.

Though at first Shintaro had been confused about Ene being on the list (she was a virus that annoyed him to near-death!), he was more appalled by the insertion of Ayano. His hero. His very dead hero. What was the point in adding her? To make him depressed?

I gave each of you three people, with the exception of Hachimenroppi and Tsukishima,” the hologram continued, disregarding the ripples of reaction. “Their closest friends are each other, so we’ll leave it at that. Now, obviously there are a few you know right now - Delic is deceased, Roppi is alive even though he’s got a broken arm and a cut on his head, and Tsuki’s doing just fine physically too. Izaya Orihara is in the game, Psyche, and currently unscathed.” Roppi scoffed. “Now that the seven of you are in this realm, your idea of the present will not help your knowledge of certain people: Tsugaru, Hinami, Haru, Mutsuki, Momo, Seina, and Michie are not of this present. The good news about that is that they are in no way involved. Congrats!

Seidou sighed in relief - his family was safe, at least. Shirazu, too, was relieved for his own younger sister.

Shintaro’s little sister, too, was fine, but then, he wondered, what about the others…?

“Wait, wait, ya said Mucchan and Haru were fine, so what about Saiko?” Shirazu demanded, getting agitated.

I’m getting there,” The Voice smiled.

Fear gripped Kaneki. They had mentioned that Hinami was alright, but hadn’t mentioned Hide or Touka…

You see, there’s another game going on, and that’s probably where the rest are, besides Hideyoshi - he is…we’ll say not part of the present. The ghoul Touka has a bruised neck and a broken arm, but is otherwise alright. Saiko the CCG Quinx member is physically exhausted but fine.” Shirazu released the breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Ene is in a glitchy state and only has one half-formed leg - the other has disintegrated.” Shintaro furrowed his brow, finding himself to be actually concerned. But even moreso… “Ayano - the one you’re so eager to hear about, Shintaro, I know - is doing fine besides a nasty cut on her forehead.” Shintaro felt as though his heart had stopped. “Last but not least, there is Akira, Seidou. She’s bruised up a bit and has a sprained ankle, but she’s doing alright.

“There’s another game going on?” Kaneki asked coolly.

“How do we see them?” Shintaro demanded.

“How do we know they’ll be okay?!” Shirazu came in.

“How long has that game been going on?” Seidou furrowed his brow.

Ah, ah!” cried the hologram, cutting off the barrage of questions. “Only one question, remember? That’ll be all; good luck on your adventures! Don’t die!” it sang, and hazed out despite the rising protests of the two groups.


 

 

Night fell slowly but surely on the groups participating. As the sun at last met the horizon and sank beneath the range of vision even from atop the skyscrapers, two fireworks were shot into the air: one pink, one silvery. “There have been two casualties on this day, Day Two of the games!” came the voice, as always seemingly coming from everywhere at once. “Best of luck, and good night!

Yoh’s blue eyes reflected the silvery explosion, and he paused with his group as the fireworks went off. He gazed at where the explosion dissipated long after it was gone, his grief evident in his visible eye. Tsukiyama, beside him, held his hand over his heart in dramatic respect. Kuroha just looked bored.

Groups 1 and 2 all looked at the sky as they went off - they were respectfully burying the body of Delic to the best of their ability, while they still had the time and the safety to do so. The sun had fallen by the time they’d gotten him a proper burial. They’d dug a hole with the help of Kaneki’s kagune (much to Seidou’s discomfort), and had been standing in honorary silence when the fireworks went off. After awhile longer, the two groups would return to their building, solemn. Their minds would stir with newly-born questions stemmed from the answers given to them earlier that day.

Other than these musings, there was also some thought put into Roppi’s earlier outburst. Curiosity stirred in Shintaro, Shirazu, Seidou, and Psyche, while old memories of parents began to resurface throughout all of them. Seidou and Tsuki were just glad that their parents were presumed to be safe, but the others, perhaps, began to think too much.

In the dark, when everyone was supposed to be asleep, it was Shirazu who approached Roppi about the matter. “…Yo, um… about earlier, I’m sorry about your mom.” It was a sincere show of empathy, but Roppi just turned away from him and grunted.

“Whatever.”

“No, really… Like…I know a lot of orphans, but… I mean, of course they’re sad and all, but…y’know, even if your parents are around, that doesn’t really mean you’ll be happy. Like you said with your mom… I mean…I get it, kinda.”

“No, you don’t, really.” Roppi’s voice was low. It was a tone that was supposed to tell Shirazu to back off and leave him alone.

“Nah, I mean… I mean, I may not have known my mom very well, but I knew my dad, and he wasn’t that great. He was…one of the bad kinds. And yet…the one thing I dunno that I can connect with is— well, he’s dead now, too… But I dunno that I could say that I’d want him dead, even though he did bad shit, y’know?”

Roppi scoffed. “What sorts of bad shit?”

“Oh, I dunno, he was an alcoholic ‘n all.” Shirazu shrugged. He wasn’t planning on delving too deep.

“My mom, too. She sucked. My dad ditched her before I was born.”

“My mom ditched my dad right after my little sis was born,” Shirazu answered, laughing despite himself. “Looks like we kinda got the opposite parents, huh?”

“…Maybe.”

“Yeah…totally weird. What I meant to get around to, anyway, is that it’s alright to be mad ‘n shit. I am too. Ya gotta be. So… It’s okay to be upset…’n stuff. Yeah. Something like that.”

Roppi turned to him at last, furrowing his brow. They looked at one another for some time.

“Well,” said Shirazu eventually, getting up, “I guess I’ll get ta bed. Hope ya get good dreams.”

“…Yeah…” In the meantime, Kaneki and Seidou were on the rooftop, watching for intruders of any sort, both also discreetly keeping an eye on the other. A CCG officer and a half-ghoul, uncomfortably working together. Though, for the record, Seidou was far more uncomfortable than Kaneki was. There were many thoughts attempting to breach the gap of consciousnesses, but all things remained unspoken. It was a heavy and static silence that wished to break out into sound.

At this time, Group 3 still hadn’t been faced with any battles between groups, and decidedly stayed in the same household as they had the first night. Yukiteru, Keiichi, A-ya, and C-ta were all just settling down for the night.

Group 4, on the other hand, settled in one of the skyscrapers. Shinichi idly wondered whether the group they’d fought was doing alright while Ciel was put to bed by Sebastian. Group 5 stayed in one of the houses bordering the dirt road once again, this time on the northeast portion. Kuroha suggested a night ambush with anticipation shining in his glowing yellow eyes, but Yoh was very unenthusiastic and immediately crashed on the bed.

“The human is weary - perhaps we should leave it be for now. We lost Ganta-kun today, so maybe we can better plan an attack for tomorrow night,” said Tsukiyama.

Kuroha agreed to the idea, fortunately for Yoh. Unfortunately, Kuroha was also a bit irritated on the matter.

As for Group 6, the four remained clustered by the forest while Yato did his best to recover. Izaya was making an attempt to read his papers by the moonlight, to little avail. He eventually repacked them in his bag, looking over to Shizuo, who was sitting on a stump about three yards away, on watch. Giving a soft clucking of the tongue, Izaya rolled over, annoyed with the situation.

Yato lay on his back nearby, Yukine close beside him as the darkness pressed in. One of Yato’s hands was on his wounded stomach, the other arm draped over his eyes. Yukine sat right next to him, sitting curled up and tense. Slowly, slowly, Yato sat up, and Yukine looked at him with questioning eyes. “I swear, you lay back down already or…”

“Yukine, I need to talk to you about something,” Yato said, tone lowering again to that ever-so-rare serious voice of his.

“Like what?” Yukine asked skeptically.

“I…” He bowed his head, retreating. “Ah, nothing. Just, we’ve gotta make it out of here.”

Yukine nodded. “Yeah, Hiyori’s waiting for us…” He paused. Averting his gaze, he added, “You don’t think…she’s forgotten us by now, has she? I mean, we don’t know how much time has passed there, and…”

“No. No, she didn’t forget,” Yato said firmly. Then, with less confidence, “She can’t forget.”

Sighing, Yukine crossed his legs in a more natural position. Izaya’s ears were perked in his position of pretending to sleep. Yato remained leaning forward, hand on his injured abdomen. Shizuo, in the meantime, was still on watch and not paying much attention. There was a solemn and uncomfortable silence between the Shinki and his master. It was Yukine who eventually spoke.

“Yato, can I ask you something?”

“Depends,” Yato said dully. He seemed a bit lost in thought.

Yukine mustered up the courage, and at last said, “I want you to tell me the absolute truth - what’s with that Nora girl, and why was there a weapon replacement option next to your name? Do you still want to use her? Why did you use her in the first place?”

“Hey, hey, slow! Slow! Down!” Yato rubbed his head. “How should I know why there was a weapon replacement option, huh?”

Yukine’s eyes narrowed, frowning.

“You don’t believe me, do you?”

“Why don’t you just stop hiding this stuff from me for once, would you? Especially in a weird situation like this!” Yukine hissed, discovering how difficult it was to be both angry and quiet.

“I—! She’s from a long time ago, okay? I’ve told you that. It’s hard to explain why I did, so…”

“Then why does she keep coming around?”

“That’s also hard to—”

“Well, try!”

“I dunno; she’s persistent!” the god cried in a strained whisper. By now Izaya had his own personal audio show, and Shizuo was beginning to wonder what was going on. “I—just leave me alone about it, okay?” Yato was sounding angry now.

“No, Yato, I need answers,” Yukine pressed. “Why do you hide so much from me? I’m your Shinki…”

“Then you’ll listen to me when I say there’s nothing you need to know!” Yato snapped.

“What is it that you’re trying so hard to hide? Tell me already!”

“You know,” Izaya cut in, not moving from his place, “lies may keep people alive, but secrets keep them sick. That girl - what was it, Hiyori? She may never see your face again in this situation. What could possibly guarantee that she remembers either of you? It sounds like she’s pretty close to both of you. Who else is close to you, Yato? Could it be that Yukine, too, is one of the few?” Yato and Yukine watched his figure roll over to turn and face them. “I’m not very bossy with things, you see, but I do I tell it like it is, and then make suggestions. Think about it. As much as I would love to test how far the relationship between the two of you can strain before it breaks or you give in… out of the warmth of my heart, I want you to understand, Yato, the implications of your secrets. Not only do they keep you sick, it infects Yukine too. Distrust, jealousy, anger, fear…these human things seem to affect Yukine even after his death. And given the fact he’s one of the few you have that like you, I’d like to suggest that you comply to his wishes if you don’t want to lose him, too.”

Both of them had stared with rapt attention, awe in Yukine’s expression, and stupefied fear in Yato’s eyes. This guy was great at hitting close to home, or, well, right on target. Yukine looked at Yato to try and judge his reaction, but it was hard in the dark.

“Bull. Shit.” It was Shizuo’s low voice - his tall silhouette loomed over the half-propped torso of Izaya.

“Hah?” Izaya answered calmly. “What do you mean, Shizu-chan?”

“There is no way in hell that came from the ‘warmth of your heart’ or whatever the hell you called it. You couldn’t give a single shit about whether Yato lost Yukine or not - you damn flea.”

“As if I don’t have a heart, Shizu—”

“Cut the shit, goddamn it. Why are you really convincing him to ‘fess up? What have you got to gain? Huh? Is it entertaining?”

“Do you really believe, Shizu-chan, that I can’t do something for the sake of another? You really think I do everything for amusement or my own self-interest?”

“Yes,” Shizuo answered. “I really think so.”

There was a long pause that Yukine was sure lasted ages. Then the informant chuckled. “Fine, fine…” A sigh from Izaya. “Look, curiosity may have killed the cat, but I must admit I want to know what it is he’s hiding, myself… Something to do with the need to exist? An underlying tragedy? I have to know!” These remarks alone struck Yato worse than the gourmet’s hand had. “Yato; he’s just as interesting as humans are, god or not! And for the record, I think you should learn to let some of my actions run their course. Maybe my intent wasn’t ‘pure,’ but it’s a win-win situation! The moment Yato explains himself is when Yato can grow as a person, when Yukine can better understand his master, when the two of them become more attuned to one another, when I can learn a juicy tidbit of information - but most importantly… Yes, most importantly, at that time Yato actually tells the truth about whatever it is he’s hiding, that’ll bring him and his Shinki together closer than they were before, meaning they’ll fight better together and be stronger together. Once there’s trust, they can be teamed together properly, and then, well, we’ll all have a better chance of getting out of here!”

A low growl began to rumble in Shizuo’s throat, but the ex-bartender bit his tongue for the moment. He hated it when Izaya was right.

Slowly, Yukine turned to Yato, whose head was bowed. “So, are you gonna talk about it…or what? He’s right about everything.” After a moment’s pause with no response, Yukine straightened and added with more assertiveness, “If I don’t understand what’s going on with you, then we probably won’t ever be able to see Hiyori again. I want to make it back, Yato, so give it up already!” Another pause. Only silence answered Yukine’s protest. “Is it really that hard?!” he cried, getting ever more frustrated. “Don’t you trust me?!”

“I do.”

Yukine blinked at the short cutoff, freezing mid-rant.

“And yeah. It is that hard. You have no idea. Yukine…what if you and Izaya are wrong, huh? What if knowing the truth only drives you away? You couldn’t possibly know beforehand how you’ll take something… If you know so much, Izaya, how do you know it won’t ruin what we have in him knowing? Huh? What about that?”

Yukine was silent, taken aback. Izaya put a hand to his mouth, hiding a smile. “Yato,” said Yukine, “I wouldn’t turn my back on you because of something in the past, if that’s what it is… I mean, I’ve stuck with you this long, and you kinda suck as a master.”

Yato yelped in objection. Izaya and Shizuo both began to stifle some kind of laugh, looked at one another, and then were silent, each annoyed with the other’s existence. Yukine snickered as Yato tried to argue with him, but at last Yato sighed. “Yukine, well… I guess this is something for everyone, since Izaya’s so curious and I can’t really tell anyone to leave… I think maybe it’s better for people to understand what they have on their side, anyway…”

Yukine and Shizuo unconsciously or subconsciously leaned forward in anticipation of the explanation - the big reveal. Izaya leaned back, using his arms as a support with his palms digging into the earth he sat on. The grass was cool. To him, this was very exciting as well as satisfying. His eyes were wide with delight, curiosity shining.

“Gods are born of a wish, Yukine… You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” Yukine confirmed with a curt nod.

“Well… wishes are what keep gods existing. A strong wish is what causes a god to be born…or at least, that was how it was a long time ago, when gods were birthed more often. Now that certain gods are more well-known amongst humans, they continue to be wished upon even if they were to be killed, so they’re reborn instead. For someone like me, well, if I were to die… I just wouldn’t come back. So…a god is born of a wish…and…” He paused. “I am a god of calamity. I was born of a wish to kill and destroy others. And so…I know I could never be anything like a god of fortune… Back in the times I acted as I was born to be, I… wiped out a lot of people. Nora was someone I used back in the time where my purpose was to kill. That’s all, Yukine. That’s all.” Lifting his head, Yato looked at Shizuo and Izaya before adding, “If ever there comes a time where we do need to kill the other groups off…if ever we’re attacked again…if I go all-out, I could destroy them easy, depending on who we’re up against. That is our advantage… especially considering I’m usually underestimated…”

He’d finished, and everything shifted back into silence. Yato again spoke up. “…Yukine? What do you…say?”

For another few moments, Yukine didn’t answer as he absorbed the information. Shizuo and Izaya both awaited the response of the Shinki. “It’s all…starting to make a little bit more sense, actually. I’m really glad you told me… Like I said, I’m not going to turn my back on you because of something in the past. That’s the past, not the now. And then…what was that about not being a god of fortune?”

“I was born of a wish for impending tragedy, so…that’s all I can bring,” he answered, voice oddly hollow. “It’s just something to live with.”

“That’s crap.”

Yato looked at him in the dark, perplexity showing in his glowing blue eyes.

“It is! It’s crap!” Yukine cried, exasperated. “You can be whatever the hell you want to be if you make the choice to! Who cares why you were born or who created you?! You be whoever the hell you want to! So when we make it out of here and back to Hiyori, if you wanna be a god of fortune, you’ll work on becoming one! Ya got it?!”

“I…thanks, Yukine… but…”

“No buts! You’ll do it!”

“…” Yato, shifting character back to his not-so-serious self, suddenly pounced on Yukine in a hug, much to his horror. “Oh, Yukine, you’re too sweet on the inside, I can’t even handle it!”

“Stop!”

“You really do care about me! I love you so!”

“Yato, get off!

“Gee, you’re such a tsundere!~”

“I am not!

While Yato hugged him and Yukine struggled, Shizuo, who was confused as to how to respond to the situation, looked to Izaya. Izaya, who had also looked to Shizuo, simply began to laugh.

Sighing, Shizuo pinched the bridge of his nose. Well, it seems that this turned out very nicely. Thank god… But he sure hated it when Izaya was right. He wished he’d stop laughing about it, being so smug.

God, if only he had some cigarettes, at least. Then maybe this whole fucked-up situation would be a little bit more bearable.

Notes:

Sometimes the answers yield only more questions.

Chapter 13: Alone Together

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Yukiteru lay awake the next night, unsure whether to call out to A-ya in a whisper to see if he was still up. Anxious about the whole ordeal, it almost seemed to him like the wonderful conversation the night before hadn’t happened. Was it really already the second night of them being in this strange place? Yukiteru had, at least, confirmed that his aim was sharp. By the end of the day he always threw his darts right on target, even though admittedly he’d already had pretty good aim. Keiichi seemed to be doing well with his swing, too, judging by the mutilated trunk of the tree outside. A-ya and C-ta had found nothing in regards to other groups.

Now that it was late in the night and everyone was silent, all seemed unsure once again. Had A-ya, too, enjoyed the conversation the night before? I mean, he had seemed interested when he was talking about his urban legends, but did A-ya like talking to Yukiteru, or was it just that he liked rambling about urban legends? Maybe both?

Sighing softly, Yukiteru curled tighter into his cocoon of a blanket. He just wanted to go home. He wanted everything to stop. Not just this game, but the one he was stuck in at home, too. He didn’t want to deal with all of this crap, he didn’t want people out to kill him, he didn’t want to have to work with someone who stalked him… He just wanted everything back to normal. He wanted everything back to the way it used to be, before anything had ever gone wrong…

He closed his eyes. He figured he might cry if he thought too much. How lame was that? What was it that police officer had said…? Take that fear, and turn it into a smile. Could he do such a thing? He wondered if maybe that was what C-ta and Keiichi did. He wondered if maybe nothing would even happen to them because they hadn’t come across any groups yet. What if the game was a lie?

With all of these thoughts and emotions swirling in Yukiteru’s head, he heard someone’s covers shift as someone stood. Gentle, tentative footsteps.

Curious, Yukiteru peered out from under his blanket to see A-ya padding over to the window, looking outside. He began walking towards the door as Yukiteru whispered to him, “Where are you going?”

A-ya stopped, and looked at him. It was hard to make out any expression with the moon giving him some backlighting, but Yukiteru figured he wasn’t making much expression anyway, like usual. “I’m going out to look at the moon and stars,” he answered quietly.

“Oh.” A pause. “Can I…come?”

A nod, and A-ya opened the door to head out. Yukiteru watched him exit the house, leaving the door wide open, and then scrambled to get to his feet as quietly as possible to run after him. He found A-ya right outside the door. Silently, A-ya closed the door behind them before wordlessly walking over to the fountain where they had first appeared. Blinking, Yukiteru followed suit. The two sat side-by-side on the ledge of the fountain. Yukiteru looked at A-ya, but he only looked upwards at the sky. Going by this cue, Yukiteru looked up as well - it was a clear night. Without any artificial light below, the stars were magnificent. Unknowingly, Yukiteru’s mouth opened in awe. I want to see the stars…with…

Yukiteru’s gaze dropped. …my parents. Suddenly the sky wasn’t so pretty. Yuno, who had wanted to see the stars with him, wasn’t his family either. All he had wished for was to see the stars with his mom and dad, all together. Something that probably would never happen. He missed them. He missed being together with both of them. He missed…

“Have you heard about the pyramid on the moon?” asked A-ya, interrupting his thoughts. Yukiteru looked at him. “I guess that’s a no,” A-ya continued, still staring upwards. “Supposedly the most recent manned moon landing, something from the Apollo mission of the United States, took a picture while on the moon that was discarded as a blank. When looked at more closely, however, there’s the outline of a pyramid plainly in the center of the image. When the image is enhanced, it’s even more easily discernable.”

“…Really…,” Yukiteru responded, vaguely interested.

“Yeah, really. There’s also rumor of an image taken of the surface of Mars that has a face on it.”

“Huh,” he answered, thoughtful. A-ya was beginning to successfully distract him from his lonely and nostalgic thoughts.

“Yeah… The night is the best and worst time to be awake, don’t you think? I can never sleep properly,” said A-ya, sounding slightly distracted. “Usually I have my cell phone, but even without it, I guess I still can’t sleep…”

Gazing at the profile of A-ya’s upturned face, Yukiteru’s brow furrowed. “I wonder why…,” he remarked, and A-ya merely shrugged. Lost for anything else to respond with, Yukiteru looked down. This wasn’t going nearly as well as the first time… He couldn’t think of a single thing to say to A-ya. His blue orbs eventually upturned back to the vast sky. “Um…”

A-ya gave him a side-glance.

Yukiteru pointed upwards. “Do you…see the Big Dipper? It’s also called Ursa Major. There’s Ursa Minor, over there - the Little Dipper…”

A-ya nodded slightly both times in acknowledgment.

Yukiteru couldn’t tell whether he was interested or not, but he continued, pointing to another. “That there…right next to the Little Dipper…it’s a little line of stars, and at the end there it’s almost like there’s a head - it kinda looks like a snake?”

A-ya nodded again. “I see it.”

“That’s Draco. And there, over there you can see something that kind of looks like a tea kettle or something… That’s Sagittarius.”

“Ah.” A-ya pointed upwards. “What’s that reddish star there? Is it Mars?”

“No, actually… All stars have color, it just so happens that the brightest ones are the only ones we can make out the color of,” Yukiteru answered happily. If urban legends were A-ya’s forte, his forte was the stars. “That’s a star named Arcturus. It’s part of the Bootes constellation. There’s another red star, there, do you see it? It’s a named Anteres. It’s a part of Scorpius…”

“You know a lot about the stars, huh?” remarked A-ya, and Yukiteru began to shrink.

“Yeah, I guess… It used to be my favorite thing to learn about. My dad got a telescope and I was so excited to see the stars for real with my mom and dad, but then…he moved out…” He stopped talking for a few moments, drawing his lips into a thin line. Then he continued, “…But here, without any lights, I can see everything without a telescope anyway. Isn’t it pretty…?” Yukiteru felt his eyes beginning to burn, and so he hastily tried to change the subject. “Didn’t you say, that you keep a diary on your phone too?”

“A journal, yeah,” A-ya agreed.

“Right, right, a journal, that’s what I meant to say,” Yukiteru corrected, embarrassed. “Um…what do you write about?”

“Just…just the things that I find relevant to a situation,” A-ya shrugged. “It’s a secret of mine, actually. It’s one thing for me to record all of my rumors and urban legends, but I do, ah, like to play detective…sometimes.”

“To play detective…,” he repeated. “Is that a hobby, too?”

“Not as much as the urban legends, the occult, the rumors…”

“I don’t remember mentioning the occult,” Yukiteru said nervously.

“Oh.”

“Well, that’s alright, though… It’s way more interesting than my di…er…nal. My journal,” he said sheepishly, tugging lightly at his hat. “I just write about things that happen around me. I just…observe. That’s it.”

“Observing is what I’m best at,” A-ya nodded. Paused. Then, “That, and telling scary stories. I have to say I’m pretty good at spreading rumors, too. You wanna know the trick?”

“No, not really…”

The red-eyed boy shrugged. “Well, I can always tell you if you want. Maybe it’s immoral, or whatever…but it sure is fun.”

Yukiteru sighed. “I’m not sure how, but…”

“That’s because you’ve never tried it.”

“I guess that’s true…” The blue-eyed one pursed his lips, turning his head to the ground. Behind them, the fountain made its pleasant trickling noises. They lapsed into silence, and it was then Yukiteru yet again felt isolated. He wondered whether A-ya felt the same… Was now his chance to reach for it? Friends were supposed to be able to share things, right? Mustering the courage, Yukiteru spoke. “Hey, A-ya?”

“Yeah?”

“You and I really are alike in a lot of ways… And we both stick to the background… I…I know you have C-ta, and your little occult club…” Yukiteru swallowed. “You…are you lonely too?” There was silence. Well, the sound of the fountain. Yukiteru was too afraid to even look at A-ya to search for a reaction. So he waited, ears beginning to ring, fingers and lips growing numb with the anxiety caused by the lack of response. Should he keep going? “Because I know…that even though I… I mean I said I was just scared to interact… but I… even though I had those imaginary people to talk to and all that, and I had my own little adventures… I… really, I was lonely… And…” Yukiteru didn’t know how to go any further. He could feel his eyes beginning to leak with tears he wished he could stop from falling.

“Me too.”

A-ya’s voice was incredibly soft; he sounded far more vulnerable than he’d ever heard him before. But despite this, it rocked Yukiteru deep down - he understood.

“Even with C-ta, I…” A-ya’s head was bowed, hair shrouding his eyes. “In the end, I’m just helpless… Somehow, there’s always a disconnect… Even with…C-ta…”

Yukiteru gazed at him, concern etched into his features. He understood. “I get it,” he whispered back. “Maybe it’s a little different, but I get it.”

Somehow, under that vast starry sky and that bright gibbous moon, there was a connection. Clasping hands whilst sitting on that silvery fountain under the moonlight and the starlight brought a togetherness neither had experienced, and for once, they thought that maybe…just for now, they weren’t lonely. They had one another.

Yukiteru had never been happier, it seemed. He thought that maybe despite the fact he couldn’t see the stars with his family, he was glad he got to see them with A-ya, at the very least.


 

It was perhaps four o’clock in the morning. The air was still and Seidou’s head was going in circles. As groggy as he was beginning to feel, he couldn’t sleep, no, not with Kaneki the half-ghoul at his side. Why, because it seemed dangerous? Maybe. Pride? Maybe a little of that, too. Maybe he just had a lot on his mind. Someone had died who was technically under his care, and he couldn’t help but feel ill… Maybe that was why he feared sleep. To be in such a bad state, to know that sleep would only bring bad dreams of repetition of doubt, of images and scenes that would undoubtedly confirm his incompetence in his head, no matter how much he argued with himself otherwise. Never had he ever felt he was enough.

Kaneki’s mind ran in spirals, but this mentality was plummeting fast into the depths of regret and internalized anger. He thought a lot of Delic. He could have saved him if he’d paid more attention, right? And to think he’d almost lost it, blacking out the way he did… Yes, using his kakuja form made him stronger, but it was a scary thought not knowing what you were doing… What if he hurt someone he cared about again…? There was so much to regret. He had to remind himself that there was still Psyche and Shirazu to protect… Still Roppi and Tsuki and Shintaro, now… Still Seidou.

Trying his best to reheat his cold and dark eyes from the thoughts that only beat himself up further, Kaneki turned to his side to glance at Seidou, who was facing the opposite direction on the roof they sat on. The CCG officer did look exhausted, but his brown eyes were focused. Seidou noticed Kaneki looking at him, and straightened up, frowning. “…Hm?” It was easy to tell that Seidou was still severely uncomfortable with the idea of a ghoul, even if it were an artificial half-ghoul like Kaneki. Seidou had also grown accustomed to the quiet of the night, and didn’t wish to break the softness of sound around them as they both got caught in their own heads.

Kaneki looked back towards his landscape to keep an eye on - the north. Seidou was supposed to keep an eye on the south. Perhaps it was about time to switch shifts as planned, though both of them knew that they wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway. “Nothing,” he said quietly. He wasn’t one to express himself much. Seidou grudgingly shrugged off the look and went back to the silence, but as Kaneki considered his words carefully, he made an attempt to reach out to the officer. “Takizawa-san…”

“Seidou’s fine in this setting,” Seidou answered, though his voice was a bit taut.

Kaneki closed his eyes. “Seidou, then… I wanted to properly thank you for everything that you as well as your group did for mine. Even though the result wasn’t ideal…I understand that, as a CCG officer, your first thought was not to help me. Thank you for actively helping my group despite the fact I am who I am. You could have easily utilized the moment for attack, but you didn’t. You acted well under the sudden stress, and I admire your level head despite everything. Under the circumstances given, you did very well. You have honor and you seem to have compassion, and that’s something I deeply respect. So if you please…I hope you can accept my gratitude for your kindness.”

Seidou looked at him, but Kaneki’s head was bowed, eyes closed. “I…” He held his crossbow close to his chest, vague discomfort rising. His heart argued that he didn’t do well enough. His head argued that it made no sense that a half-ghoul was thanking him. “Er, I was only doing what a human should…” He wanted to pull back the words too late - was a stupid thing to say!

But Kaneki only chuckled. “You’d be surprised…”

“Yeah, I know,” Seidou sighed, expression hazing over in a darker fashion. He thought of the cold way Akira handled everything. The lack of emotion that so many of the higher-ups had. “It makes no sense, you know, that there are people acting as heroes and saving others just because it’s protocol, the textbook definition of justice. Because it’s what they should stand for. But I think all of that’s bull. A real hero actually cares; gives his heart to the cause. They do things because it’s what they truly believe in, whatever it may be. The people who save others should do it because it’s what they believe in…you know?”

Kaneki nodded solemnly. “And the ones who don’t actually care, though they get the job done, don’t necessarily help so much as they have the capacity to hurt.”

“Exactly… Yet they’re the ones who earn the right to be called hero…and I just can’t understand how that makes any sense. It makes me so angry…”

“This world is wrong,” Kaneki said softly, quoting the very man that was Seidou’s true hero.

“Maybe it is,” Seidou sighed. “Hey…can I ask you something?”

Kaneki shrugged. “I may or may not answer.”

Frowning a bit at the vague response, he still inquired, “So, if you’re the ghoul Eyepatch…doesn’t that also mean that you’re Centipede…? Or were those two different… er…”

Kaneki’s eyes shifted downward once more. “…Yes, that’s me.”

“I thought so… I wonder…”

“Hm…?”

“It’s nothing. I’ll figure it out some other time.” Seidou carefully stood on his side of the slanted roof, stretching. He was very stiff. “I’m going to wake up Shintaro, as planned. I think it’s about time to switch shifts. Are you coming?”

Kaneki nodded, standing with ease. “I’ll wake up Shirazu.”

As the two of them slipped back into the building through the upper windows, Seidou eyed Kaneki with a lost look. “You know,” he said to the ghost-like half-ghoul in the light of the moon, “I have to say, if all of this is sincere… You really do seem like such a nice person. I can’t get why it had to turn out the way it did. Even being stuck here…” He laughed a bit. “I mean, unless we just use the argument that the world is wrong, and leave it at that.”

Kaneki smiled somewhat ruefully. “It’s the only thing that can explain some of the cruelties of this world. Well…these worlds, now.”

“Yeah, true,” Seidou nodded solemnly but with some humor, and the two went to wake up the next two who would be on watch.


 "We just had a three-casualty battle in the other game. Pretty sick.” They ran a hand over their bald head. “Fucking badass over here. Weird how fast shit went down on that game.”

“Who died, Seraph?” asked the brunette, spinning in their chair to face the other.

“I loved all of them,” said the violet-haired one sadly. “I didn't expect any of them to die... Well, maybe Ayano, but...”

“Ayano? Oh dear…” They spun and looked at the bald one. “Say, Durden, I’d like to say I’m trying to slow the process of the male game.”

“Don’t drag it out too long - it won’t be fun that way,” the one called Durden pointed out.

“But look at all the relationship building!” cried the brunette. “I’m so proud of them all. And it sure is fun to watch! Not to mention, such painful death scenes since they had time to bond,” they added with a smile.

“I think I support A-ya and Yukiteru as a couple,” Seraph added.

“Woah-kay, I’m out, sorry,” said Durden, raising their hands up. Seraph and the brunette began to laugh. “I’ve gotta say, though, I’m betting on Celty for the fem one.”

“I dunno,” said Seraph, “I think I’m hoping for Saiko, honestly.” They looked at the brunette. “What about you, Muse?”

“Hmm…” Muse leaned back in their swivel chair. “Not sure…”

“Hey, Muse,” Durden called their attention, and Muse looked at them with a wordless Hm? “What’ll we do with the girls if someone does win?”

“Ah…” Muse waved them off. “We’ll figure that out when the time comes.”


Group 3 at last decided to begin trekking away from that house they’d stayed by for the first and second days. They couldn’t stay put forever, and Keiichi pointed out that if they stayed in one place, it would be easier for someone else to trap them or ambush them. And so, Keiichi, C-ta, A-ya, and Yukiteru moved out of the home, packing provisions in a bag that C-ta slung over his shoulder, as agreeable as always. Yukiteru was the one who offered to carry some blankets, but Keiichi pointed out that they’d probably be able to at least find shelter anyway. Yukiteru couldn’t think of an argument, so he sadly left the blankets behind despite the fact that, well, he just really liked having blankets. Yukiteru found that the group was eerily quiet when they first started out, though A-ya didn’t seem to mind, lost in thought. Probably thinking about something creepy, like Bloody Mary… or something. C-ta, who was yet again awake the night before, eventually struck up conversation with A-ya, who for the most part ignored him, creating a one-sided conversation. Occasionally C-ta would earn a grunt or a shrug, but that was all. Keiichi tried to join in, and C-ta let him. Yukiteru attempted to chat along with them, but had nothing to say. Hopelessly, he looked to A-ya, who merely shrugged at him. Yukiteru gave a sigh.

“Ah, A-ya, you’re always so quiet even without your phone to distract you,” C-ta remarked. “You’re not ignoring me, right?”

“No…”

C-ta would continue his protests.

They walked down what seemed to be the nature trail of a park. They were just entering the wooded area. Keiichi figured that if they went far enough, they’d reach another residential area. The leaves began to block out the sky, only allowing the sun to reach the four of them in patches. Slowly, Keiichi grew quieter while the others tried to actively converse. Keiichi, too, had been wide awake last night. He listened to A-ya and Yukiteru whispering to one another; he watched A-ya get to his feet and head to the door, peering from beneath his own arm. He watched. He listened. Both of them had left the house, and of course after that he hadn’t heard a thing. He knew C-ta was worried, too. The way he got up and went to the window, opening it a crack and trying to listen. Keiichi pretended to be asleep that whole time.

Why would A-ya up and leave like that, though? He knew why the doors and windows were locked. Judging by the way they acted, he and Yukiteru probably talked to one another the night before - why lure him out? Did A-ya know that he and C-ta were awake? Trying to keep Yukiteru close to him? C-ta was fine…he was already obviously on A-ya’s side. They were childhood friends or something of that sort, right? He’d defend him easily.

But A-ya… something was definitely up with A-ya. Something terribly wrong. The trees began to thicken, and Keiichi began to walk a bit slower, lagging behind the others, if slightly. No one seemed to notice.

It was A-ya who had suggested they not fight, against the wishes of the Voice. The Voice had also mentioned that at one point the teams would be nullified and they’d all be put against one another. Yet, there hadn’t been a single other group that they’d come across? Something was very strange indeed.

Keiichi felt all tingly, like something was crawling under his skin. He itched, he burned. Something was up with A-ya. A-ya wanted everyone to do as he wanted. A-ya was planning something else. A-ya wanted the rest of them dead. He was just waiting for the right time to do it; that was all. Neither Yukiteru nor C-ta would suspect him. A-ya was cunning and sly, like a fox. A-ya was a traitor. He was a liar. A-ya would get all of them killed. And the fact that A-ya was so close to C-ta, so close to Yukiteru - both of them were on his side. A-ya would kill Keiichi first. Yes, A-ya’s plan was to kill Keiichi first, and then convince the others that really it was Keiichi who wanted to kill them. That was it.

These thoughts were not questions but certainties in Keiichi’s head. They were stated as fact in his mind, and he wholeheartedly believed every word. His vision grew focused and his heart beat like a drum. His palms sweating, he tightened his grip on the baseball bat. He just needed to get rid of A-ya. A-ya would kill Keiichi if Keiichi didn’t kill A-ya.

Keiichi decided he needed to kill A-ya. It was absolutely necessary.

He’d practiced his aim. He’d practiced his swing. He could get rid of him right now. Just swing the bat at A-ya’s head and bludgeon him to death. It wouldn’t take long.

His thoughts unclear and inconsiderate of any consequence, the decision was made. He couldn’t think about anything but this next move. This determination rose within him as he raised the bat and sped up his pace, eyes wide as he went for the first blow--

A-ya, C-ta, and Yukiteru were all partaking in light conversation, nearly forgetting about Keiichi entirely. C-ta was talking to both A-ya and Yukiteru light-heartedly, completely friendly as always. A-ya was between the two of them. Keiichi ran up behind him, unbeknownst to A-ya himself, though C-ta’s head snapped in Keiichi’s direction the moment his pace began to pick up. Everything went slowly, but it all happened in but a moment. Time stopped; all sound became muted. Yukiteru followed C-ta’s cue and looked in the same direction. There was Keiichi, pupils contracted - he’d surely gone mad. The only thing Yukiteru could feel was fear. What was Keiichi doing? Unable to express himself fast enough, Yukiteru tried to tell A-ya to look behind him just as the red-eyed boy turned, at first unfazed until he began to make out what was happening as Keiichi, face contorted, let out a battle cry and C-ta sprung forward in slow-motion, moving on instinct. The bat swung, A-ya moved to shield his head too slow, too slow—

Time returned to them as well as sound just then, and the bat toppled onto A-ya and then clattered to the dirty ground as Keiichi froze up, C-ta’s box cutter shoved deep into his chest. “Don’t touch A-ya.” C-ta’s voice was darker than even A-ya had ever heard before. The friendly C-ta ripped the box cutter from below Keiichi’s ribcage and shoved him to the ground, pinning him and stabbing him again while Keiichi wordlessly struggled, only capable of making choked protests in yelps and cries. C-ta just stabbed, and stabbed, and stabbed, and stabbed…

Yukiteru and A-ya each unconsciously stepped back, frozen in utter horror. The scent of iron was in the air. Eventually Keiichi stopped moving. C-ta thrust that box cutter’s blade into Keiichi until there was not a spark of life left. Keiichi’s wide blue eyes continued to stare at the leaves above, mouth open with blood leaking from the corners. His chest did not rise, nor fall. C-ta’s breath was heavy, on the other hand, as he sat atop the torso of the dead Keiichi. Blood stained his clothing. Slowly, C-ta put away his box cutter and pocketed it, turning to look behind him. Yukiteru swallowed at the look in C-ta’s eyes: those green orbs were calm once more, as if nothing had happened.

“Are you okay, A-ya?” C-ta inquired, smiling at his childhood friend with a warm expression.

A-ya could only open his mouth and close it again. He couldn’t speak. He was paralyzed.

“Oh, A-ya…” C-ta stood and approached the trembling A-ya, taking his hand. “You’re shaking… So helpless…” He pulled A-ya into his warm embrace while A-ya stared with wide, uncomprehending eyes of his own at the body of Keiichi, splayed on the ground before him. “It’ll be okay, A-ya,” C-ta said lowly. “I won’t let anyone hurt you… I’ll protect you, A-ya…” Feeling A-ya shudder slightly, C-ta held him closer. He could feel A-ya's heart beating frantically. His fear was evident.

At C-ta’s final words, Yukiteru couldn’t handle the scene any longer and just sat down right there on the forest floor. He’d been right in the beginning after all… C-ta was just as crazy as Yuno, wasn’t he? Now what was he supposed to do…?

C-ta held A-ya close to him until the shaking subsided, slow but sure as he stroked his friend’s back gently. “We need to keep going,” A-ya said softly, and Yukiteru dazedly nodded. A-ya couldn’t take his eyes off of Keiichi. Yukiteru, on the other hand, couldn’t stop staring at C-ta.

At A-ya’s words, C-ta released his friend and kindly helped Yukiteru to his feet. Yukiteru accepted his hand with much hesitation. Tearing his gaze away from Keiichi, A-ya continued forward. The other two followed, and they trekked forward though their group of four had become one of three.

Notes:

Group 3 is at last beginning to unravel!

Chapter 14: Deal

Notes:

Hey all, apologies for the delay in posting this chapter. I wasn't in range of internet for awhile, but I am back. I will generally post my chapters on Fridays from here on. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter Text

Groups 1 and 2 thought it would be best for them to get moving from their spot. As Group 2 had dealt with the demon Sebastian and Group 1 had dealt with the demon Kuroha, neither wanted to confront any demons before allying themselves with anyone else. Shirazu argued that now that they had two groups, they could totally take on at least one of them, but Group 2 as a whole decided that it would be best to wait awhile for Roppi to feel better and for everyone to let the death of Delic sink in. Both groups therefore decided to avoid the areas where they thought either demon might be, judging by where they last saw them.

Both groups gave the other a summary of the places there were - Shintaro was surprised there was a forest area. Kaneki mentioned to them that although there was a ‘special item’ they had found in the forest area, the edge of the forest was also where they had faced Kuroha’s group, and they’d rather not go back there just yet.

And so, both groups decided that they’d head directly south together through the city, since Seidou figured that Sebastian’s group had already moved from where they’d been last they knew.

Kuroha, Tsukiyama, and Yoh, on the other hand, began to move west slowly, Tsukiyama chattering to Yoh as they walked despite Yoh’s severe lack of enthusiasm.

Yato, Yukine, Shizuo, and Izaya faced the new day with much more enthusiasm and confidence than the day before. Yato was even more chatty than usual; he felt so light and at ease in comparison his prior attitude. This successfully irked Yukine and Shizuo, and eventually Shizuo told him to promptly shut the fuck up. Izaya couldn’t help but laugh, earning his turn for angry words from Shizuo.

Group 4 with Sebastian, Ciel, Shinichi, and Migi, in the meantime, were all just entering the residential area in the western part of the playing field. They had, in fact, tried to go as far west as they could only to reach the invisible barrier.

“What the bloody hell is this?” Ciel asked bitterly, knocking on the transparent wall and earning ripples of lightly glowing green.

“Some kind of force field or invisible barrier,” Migi remarked, touching it for himself. “Interesting. With this and the inter-dimensional teleportation devices, I have to say that I am very impressed with this technology.”

“Indeed,” said Sebastian, touching his chin thoughtfully.

“Do you think we can get out of the game if we break through?” asked Ciel.

“Well, even if it were a loophole,” said Shinichi, “how do you know for sure you’d be able to get back to your realm, your world, and your time period?”

“Humph… I suppose that’s true, but I know that Sebastian would manage it if I ordered as such. Right, Sebastian?”

“I would do my very best,” Sebastian answered with an elegant bow. “And as myself, I’d find a way to succeed.”

Migi and Shinichi looked at one another before looking back to them. Shinichi wondered why it was that Ciel wouldn’t just order Sebastian to go and win the game, then. He figured they had their reasons, but… “Hey, Ciel?” asked Shinichi, tilting his head ever so slightly with his polite smile and distant eyes.

“What is it?” he responded, crossing his arms irately.

“Have you considered the idea of ordering your butler to win the game?”

Ciel turned to fully face Shinichi, visible eye narrowing as he smirked. “I was planning on implementing that order after this group had disbanded - after all, winning the game would entail yours and Migi’s death, wouldn’t it? Besides,” - he waved Shinichi off and turned away - “…my butler has made it quite clear to me that he wishes to have a bit of fun in this game. He’s a demon - this is fun for him.”

“Oh, no, Young Master,” said Sebastian, catching Ciel’s hint that he should perhaps stop trying to figure out where he should hit the wall to break it. “It’s not ‘fun,’ per se, even if I may consider it as a form of entertainment myself. If I were to speak what I think of this game, I actually find it quite barbaric and ridiculous, something that only humans would come up with. Interesting, isn’t it?” He chuckled at his own words.

Ciel rolled his eyes.

“Humans seem even more demonic than demons, it seems,” Migi remarked.

“Precisely,” Ciel sneered.

Shinichi sighed lightly. What was anyone supposed to think of humanity, at this point…? Shinichi gazed upwards at the clear blue sky, musing over his own humanity and whether or not it was still existent. A refreshing breeze passed them by. Though he could physically feel this, his feelings remained muted. Numb. He closed his eyes. Sebastian and Migi were having pleasant conversation about how strange humans were while Ciel cut in occasionally.

Both Sebastian and Migi suddenly halted in conversation, and Shinichi opened his eyes. All three of them heard twigs snapping somewhere far off. “…What?” Ciel frowned. The earl was the only one without ultra-sensitive hearing.

“A group is coming in this general direction,” Sebastian informed his master.

“I do not sense any power from these life forms,” Migi added.

“They might not be on the offense,” said Shinichi.

“Are we confronting them or not?” asked Ciel, crossing his arms and tapping his foot on the grass.

“I say it’s up to you, Young Master,” said Sebastian, and Shinichi frowned ever so slightly.

“If we do, do we attack or simply figure them out?” inquired Migi.

“I say we approach them with caution,” said Shinichi. “Quickly get to them. Quiet. Get an assessment, and decide what to do from there. We don’t need to hurt them if they don’t try to hurt us.”

“Fine, fine,” Ciel huffed. “But if they do up and attack, however flimsy or powerful, the plan and my order is to wipe all of them out. Understood?”

“Yes, my lord,” Sebastian bowed.

“Sounds good to me,” said Migi. “But Shinichi, if they present too many inconveniences, the answer would be to get rid of them.”

“Yeah,” Shinichi said absently.

“Do you understand, Shinichi?” Migi pressed.

“I understand,” Shinichi responded, cool and distant. His eyes showed how not-there he was. “But under that circumstance, I’m not doing anything myself… I’m not hurting innocent people.”

“Understood.”

The four sped through the woods, Ciel carried bridal style by Sebastian as they went. Ciel was, of course, disgruntled about it all but also a bit pleased that he didn’t have to walk through these woods again, at least for now. Shinichi was blank as they bounded from tree to tree. When they neared the group they’d heard, they settled in the trees above and watched for them, waiting for them to pass. If they were a threat, they’d ambush them. If not, they’d figure it out from there.

The group that approached beneath them was a group of three rather than four. One of their members must have died. There was blood on the sweater of the tallest of the three, and they walked in an eerie silence. The two black-haired members looked increasingly on edge, while the brunette seemed quite at ease. Ironically, the one at ease was the same one with blood on his cardigan.

“Well, they’re not a threat,” whispered Ciel. “These three were petty humans.”

“We could blow through them quite easily,” Sebastian agreed. “What do you suppose we should do, Young Master?”

“I think—Shinichi.” Migi cut himself off in disapproval and reverted back to hand form as Shinichi jumped from the tree and onto the forest floor, directly in front of A-ya, C-ta, and Yukiteru.

Yukiteru cried out and stumbled backwards, falling over. A-ya jolted in turn, while C-ta’s eyes merely flashed at Shinichi.

Shinichi held his right hand further behind him, smiling gently at the three before him. Ciel facepalmed in the tree above while Sebastian frowned, terribly annoyed with this boy.

C-ta gripped his box cutter in his pocket, expression darkening; Yukiteru scrambled to prepare himself, getting back to his feet with his hand on his dart pouch. C-ta was ready to speak, but it was A-ya who stepped forward. C-ta eyed his best friend carefully, then scrutinized Shinichi, ready to protect A-ya if need be.

“We’re Group 3,” said A-ya in a monotone voice. “This is Yukiteru and C-ta. I am A-ya. I’m not sure what your intent is or how you wish to go about playing the game, but…the game is fake.”

Yukiteru and C-ta looked at A-ya incredulously, wondering what the hell he could be talking about. Shinichi tilted his head slightly, curious. He’d meant to negotiate or whatever, but this was something else entirely. Migi opened an eye on Shinichi’s thumb and stretched it around to peer at A-ya. Ciel and Sebastian paused at this. Ciel tugged on Sebastian’s jacket, and Sebastian jumped down as well, setting his master gently on his feet. Eyes suspicious, Sebastian tugged at his glove as he watched the scene unfold.

A-ya swallowed. Think rumor-spreading. These guys were the talkative ones that were the starting point, the first person to tell so the rumor would spread like wildfire. In this world, A-ya thought to himself, there are only things that sound like lies, and things that sound like truths. That is all. I just need to tell something that sounds like truth. It is, after all, what’s going on here… It just has to sound true, because if they don’t believe it, I might as well have told a lie, because we’d all be dead.

“If you could spare some time, would you care to listen?” A-ya asked of the four.

“Go ahead,” Migi answered immediately, without discussion.

A-ya nodded. Here was his cue. Time to do it right. This could be his game. Now was not the time to create tragedy and present it as comedy. Now was the time to weave reality into the misconceptions that may well be the death of them all. Do not be afraid - pretend it’s an urban legend to tell! He tried not to think of helplessness and isolation. He’d already caught their interest, time to weave a story!

“Don’t you find this game at all strange?” A-ya asked them. “It’s never made any sense to me, since the moment I arrived. None of us have any idea how we got here, not even such powerful beings as gods and demons. People from ten different realities have been thrown into this battleground, but we were never given a purpose besides being told this was a battle royal, and the only goal is to survive. There’s unfamiliarity all around us, generating fear and suspicion - no one knows what to believe. Fear leads to violence, which is exactly what the Voice wants. The Voice had said something along the lines of the fact that they didn’t want us to make alliances even though they were allowed. This is a game; its title presents this as a game. It is made for their entertainment. We’ve all been told that we need to kill each other off, but there’s absolutely nothing forcing us to do so. Yes, we’re stuck here, but if people don’t fight for long enough, there is no entertainment anymore. It’s no longer a game. It becomes stagnant.

“My point here is that none of us actually need to fight one another. The Voice has placed us all with unfamiliar people in unfamiliar surroundings, making this as uncomfortable and frightening as it can be before the suggestion, not the order, to kill. People are already obeying, however…out of paranoia… out of the power of suggestion. People are likely assuming that winning the game means going home when in actuality there was no such promise. The prize at the end was never even specified. There may not even be a prize. This game is a lie. We are being toyed with, and that’s all there is to it.”

A-ya paused, doing his best to look at each and every one of them square in the eye - something he rarely did with anyone. “You four together could easily wipe us out, if I remember right. I know that. So if you don’t listen, you’ll probably kill the three of us. I know that I can’t do much about that. But from what I understand about what’s going on here, it would only mean that either you’re sadistic, have something against one of us, or you believe in the game. I ask that you consider these words. I don’t want them to die with me.”

A pause.

“You speak well, A-ya,” remarked Migi, and Shinichi allowed him to stretch forward to speak to Group 3. “As a parasite, there are many things about human nature that I am incapable of understanding. Everything you have said to us now has logic to it, and I am supportive of this view. It includes no sacrifice; only gain. It puts pieces together about this game that leave me wondering further about the intent of this game as well as its creators. I know for a fact that my host, Shinichi, does not wish to hurt you.” Shinichi gave a curt nod in agreement. “I do not understand the concept myself, but he would feel guilt. However, the three of you seem to all be acting on defense and none seem to be a threat to myself or my host. If this continues, I would be willing to form an alliance with your team along with Shinichi. My other teammates, on the other hand, are people I cannot speak for.”

Migi swiveled his eye to look at Sebastian and Ciel. Sebastian chuckled. “I have to say I’m slightly impressed with you, A-ya, if only because you seem not much older than my Young Master. If my goal before was to win this game, it is now to find the people running it and…well, how it goes from there shall remain yet to be said.” He left it hanging ominously like that, red eyes menacing. “However, if my young master does decide to dispose of you, I will most certainly do so without hesitation.”

Ciel let out a bark of laughter. “The three of you got pretty lucky, huh? Now you’ve got the demon and the parasite on your side. Savor it - I still don’t trust any of you, and if anyone makes a wrong move, don’t expect them to survive. As for you, A-ya!” Ciel smirked at him, tilting his head upwards. “I like you, commoner. You seem to be quite good at reasoning and negotiating. I’m Ciel.” Ciel held out his hand to A-ya, who stared at it for a moment before awkwardly shaking it. He was used to bows. He was also used to not interacting with people. “The demon is my butler; that’s Sebastian.” He turned his head to look back at said butler. “Sebastian, as an order, I’d like you to keep a close eye on these three. If you know any one of them are becoming a nuisance or an inconvenience, as Migi said, dispose of them. However, until that time comes, if it comes, I command you to protect each of them from any fatal threat. Understood?”

“Yes, my lord.” Sebastian bowed respectfully.

The parasite-infected hand spoke up once more. “Though I don’t see purpose in names, you all may call me Migi. It seems we are in an alliance now.”

“It’s nice to properly meet you all,” Shinichi smiled. “I’m Shinichi.” He held out Migi to shake his hand, and Migi reverted back to hand form.

“Uh… no thanks,” A-ya refused, bowing to him instead. Shinichi laughed along with C-ta. C-ta couldn’t help but think how cute A-ya was - as always, of course.

“That’s still disgusting,” remarked Ciel with distaste, and Sebastian chuckled.

“Well, now,” said Shinichi pleasantly, lowering his hand, “that means we’re all one group. Let’s stick together, huh?”

“A-ah… Th…thank you very much…!” Yukiteru stammered before bowing. He was amazed with how cool A-ya had been - way cooler than he could ever be… but still! A-ya was so amazing!

None of the three could believe they’d just earned the protection of a demon. C-ta was most perplexed, seeing as A-ya was never the talker. It was C-ta who always spoke for A-ya. It was just rather strange…

A-ya was reveling in the shock that he’d managed it. He felt rather proud, and for the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel helpless. Wishes and dreams from when he was a child revived themselves, and he began to think of the things he could be after this amazing success - a detective…or even…a dark-clad hero! It was what he had always wished to be!

…Not that he’d tell anyone that.

Not to mention the fact that he had a demon on his side. A real-life demon. How cool was that? He, A-ya, who was supremely interested in the occult, had the chance to talk to a real demon!

While Groups 3 and 4 chose a direction and began to walk, A-ya confronted Sebastian and Ciel with an avid curiosity. Yukiteru, Shinichi, and C-ta were in conversation in the meantime while Migi just listened.

“So, Sebastian and Ciel… do you two have a contract? Is that what the relationship is here?” inquired A-ya, voice still flat but eyes sparking with interest.

“That’s right,” Ciel confirmed.

“Is there a symbol? A paper, perhaps, signed in blood? Is your soul the price?”

“You ask a lot of questions,” Ciel frowned.

“In a place like this, Young Master, I suppose it isn’t too much trouble?” said Sebastian, amused.

“Sorry if A-ya’s being rude,” C-ta jumped in. “He doesn’t really know how to be quite polite. He’s really just curious.”

“I’m not so sure…” began Sebastian, looking at his master, but Ciel waved him off.

“If you’re so curious, you can go ahead and ask. I’ll answer when I want to. Sebastian, go ahead.”

“Of course,” Sebastian smiled sweetly. “My young master and I have a Faustian contract, you see. I’m not so sure what is the same or different in your realm…”

“A Faustian contract,” A-ya bobbed his head. “The typical storybook ‘wish granting for a soul’ kind of deal.”

Sebastian nodded in confirmation. “There is a seal that keeps this bond in place.”

“I call it his collar,” Ciel added smugly, and Sebastian closed his eyes.

“Yes…so long as my young master has his mark of the covenant, I am to obey his every command until the day his initial wish is accomplished.”

“How is the seal made?” asked A-ya.

“Simply by placing my hand over where I am directed to make it. The more visible on the body the seal is, the stronger the bond between demon and human.”

“Really…” A-ya thought on this. “Where is yours, Ciel? I mean, I’d guess it’s…”

“My right eye,” Ciel confirmed. “His own is on his left hand.”

“Indeed,” said the demon, pulling off his glove to show A-ya, revealing a black-nailed hand with a symbol imprinted in dark purple on the back of his palm - a star in a circle with another circle of curved diamonds surrounding it.

A-ya stared in awe. “Can I…see your eye?” he asked Ciel eventually.

“Not right now,” he sniffed.

“Does it hurt to get the seal?”

“Well, yes,” Ciel frowned.

“How did you make the contract? I mean, how do you summon a demon, in your realm?”

“It’s quite simple, really,” answered Sebastian. “All it takes is for a human to be desperately looking for some way out of a situation, desperate to the point of being able to sacrifice something like their soul. They also must have little to no faith in god. All of this combined summons the demon, and the demon is to ask the human to make a decision - save them and make a bargain, or leave them be.”

“I did in fact summon Sebastian on accident,” Ciel admitted.

“Really…” A-ya thought on this as well. “Now…what kind of demon are you, Sebastian? Are there different types?”

“There are different kinds, but I am a crow demon, myself.”

“Cool…”

On the other side of the path, C-ta was listening to both conversations while talking to Shinichi and Yukiteru. Yukiteru was very quiet as always, but Shinichi was amiable enough that he was able to kind of carry a conversation. Now that there were older and more capable people around, Group 3 felt quite a bit less stressed out and incapable. For a first encounter, they thought this turned out quite nicely… Thank goodness.

As the seven of them walked, they came across a fountain different than the one Group 3 had first appeared at. Beside the fountain was a strange purple pillar. As the seven approached, it lit up before projecting the holographic silhouette. “One group at a time, please!” it said.

“What the hell is that?” snapped Ciel, backing up.

“A hologram?” Yukiteru tilted his head. “Do we listen to it?”

“Give us a reason to listen to you,” spat Ciel.

Utilizing this ‘special item’ pillar allows opportunity for upgrades and such, depending upon the person. Because one person from one of your groups has been killed, I can also answer either one question per group, or one overarching question along with one group’s choice of ‘special item.’ Technically, none of this is required, but it may present an advantage.

The groups looked at one another, and seem to silently but grudgingly agree that this may turn out beneficial to them all.

“Which group should go first…?” asked Shinichi.

“Let’s be polite, shall we?” said Sebastian, bringing Ciel backwards. Shinichi followed with Migi.

“I…is this really alright?” asked Yukiteru nervously.

“Ah, thank you very much,” C-ta bowed to them.

Thank you!” said the Voice from the speakers. The hologram spread its arms. From here they were told more about the special items and how they worked, as well as how they could ask whatever question they’d like. Only one option could be chosen.

An orange holographic touch screen with white lettering showed up to the three:

<A-ya>....................... [1-up/Insight]
<C-ta>....................... [1-up/Stability]
<Yukiteru Amano>............. [FastForward/Weapon Upgrade]
<Keiichi Maebara>............ [1-up/Antidote]

“Antidote…?” Yukiteru read aloud, wondering what that could mean. It seemed that it was too late anyway, but…

C-ta had gone rather hazy. “Ah… Keiichi, he’s dead…” He looked rather lost and blank, and Yukiteru looked at him in concern. Something was definitely not alright with this guy…

“What should we pick, though…?” A-ya mused.

“…I…I wonder if we get a 1-up and the other thing, or just one or the other,” said Yukiteru. “And…is a 1-up, like, an extra life? What does that even do? Oh…and a weapon upgrade…would that mean I can get my future d… my future journal?”

“Maybe,” remarked A-ya, but by then C-ta had already selected, pressing his finger to A-ya’s option. “C-ta—?” A flash of light, and A-ya was enveloped in it. Yukiteru shielded his eyes until the light faded, leaving A-ya standing, dazed.

“What happened?” Yukiteru asked confusedly, but A-ya only shrugged.

“I don’t know… I feel exactly the same.”

Group 4, step right up! Time for you to step down, Group 3!” said the silhouette.

The groups switched out before anyone in Group 3 had the chance to argue C-ta’s split decision, and Group 4 looked at their own options, lit up on their green screen.

<Shinichi Izumi>..................... [Rewind/Mending]
<Migi>............................... [Rewind]
<Sebastian Michaelis>................ [Extra Recruits]
<Ciel Phantomhive>................... [Extra Recruits]

“And we just…touch it?” asked Ciel.

Select one of the names, or a question can be answered!” the silhouette replied.

“What kind of question would we ask, though?” Shinichi thought aloud, looking at the ground.

“There are certainly many to be asked,” commented Sebastian.

“But if there is only one question,” said Migi, “we must be very specific with how we word it or else we’ll likely get an unsatisfactory answer.”

“What a nuisance,” Ciel huffed.

“What does mending mean, I wonder…?” Shinichi tilted his head at the screen.

“Our options are unnecessary - we already have Sebastian anyway,” Ciel frowned.

“Indeed, extra recruits would feel more like clutter as of right now,” Sebastian nodded. “This is especially the case now that Group 3 has joined us.”

“Both Migi and I have the same possibility of rewinding… Does that mean going back in time?” Shinichi mused.

“I’d very much suggest not doing that,” said Migi. “Not only might it cause much confusion for both of us, I would not like for you to be as you once were before the incident. As mild as you were, I don’t think you’d be as calm in such a game as this.”

“And even though ‘mending’ is another option of mine,” Shinichi continued, “we don’t know whether we can make that choice or whether it’s decided for us.”

Ciel gave a sharp sigh. “So we basically don’t want to select anything.”

“There’s still a question we could ask, if we come up with something beneficial to us,” said Migi.

“What would we ask? There’s so many possibilities…we’d have to pick the best possible question,” said Shinichi.

“And not mess it up when we ask it,” added Ciel.

If I may,” said the silhouette, “just keep in mind that asking a question will entail me answering every one of you, including Group 3.

“Like…what are the limitations placed on us, maybe…?” Shinichi put his hand to his chin, thinking deeply.

“That would be advantageous,” Sebastian admitted, nodding slightly.

“Or…how to end the game…,” mumbled Yukiteru.

“Mm.” A-ya bobbed his head in agreement. “But without following the rules placed by the game.”

“Ah, A-ya, clever as always…,” remarked C-ta.

Shinichi was nodding. “There might be a trick to it…”

“But we must specify that we mean to know every way possible,” Migi pointed out. “Otherwise we may find ourselves receiving an obvious answer.”

“Couldn’t we just figure all this out ourselves?” Ciel frowned.

“Well, even if you and your butler think you can figure it out, I’d like to ask,” Shinichi responded with a frown of his own.

“Indeed,” said Migi, “I’d like to get some kind of starting point - keep in mind, Sebastian, that whoever runs this has managed not only to bring you here without your knowledge, but also has apparently managed to place limitations on you.”

“That’s…true.” Sebastian looked quite annoyed.

Ciel laughed. “What are you going to do about that, Sebastian?” he prodded.

The butler coughed into his gloved fist. “We shall see, Young Master.”

“Alright,” said Shinichi, looking at the hologram with an intensity in his usually lacking eyes. “What are all the ways we can get out of the game, excluding the terms you gave us?”

The terms I gave you - as in the goal is survival?” The hologram seemed to smile. “To kill all others? It’s a battle royal, after all.

“Why are you asking questions?” spat Ciel. “Just answer.”

Only clarifying,” said the Voice with a shrug. “To get out of the game, other than winning, you could, of course, get killed. Then again, that’s also part of the terms. You could kill yourself, instead. That’d get you out of the game for sure, so long as you were dead enough.” Some opened their mouths to question that statement, but the Voice continued. “You could also earn a ‘switch out’ special item, taking you out of the game and replacing you with someone else. That, of course, is only an option for those with that as a special item. Last but not least…” The hologram smiled eerily, a crescent of black in the purplish static. “…you could find me.

Chapter 15: Assembly

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“My stomach huuuurts…,” wailed Yato as the four of them walked - they’d just reached the city area.

“We get that you’re injured. Shut up, would you?” grumbled Shizuo. “Even the flea’s quieter than you right now.”

“Thanks, Shizu-chan,” Izaya snipped drily.

“No, no, I’m really hungry!” Yato sniffled.

“Well, yeah, I want some fucking pudding,” Shizuo grunted.

“Shouldn’t you eat…like…a meal?” Yukine asked him.

“Fine. Ice cream.” He paused. “And then some microwave ramen.”

“I don’t know how you could live like that,” Izaya frowned at him. “I want some fatty tuna sushi. Better tasting, and better for you.”

“Too bland,” Shizuo answered bluntly, holding a hand up. “Nope.”

“As if—ice cream is disgusting.”

Shizuo stopped walking. “Did you just insult ice cream? The fuck’s your problem?”

Yukine facepalmed. “Guys… Stop arguing over stupid things already…”

“He doesn’t like ice cream!” shouted Shizuo.

Izaya’s mouth twitched. “Or pudding.”

“You know what? Fuck you. If we find a stash of only sweets, more for us. We’ll eat it all and you can starve for all I care!”

“Oh, wouldn’t that be nice?” Izaya sneered. “You’d love to have me slowly deteriorating of malnutrition. But of course, I’d think you’d get the most satisfaction out of killing me with your own hands, right? You’re a monster like that after all.”

“God fucking damn it, Izaya, it’s like you want me to beat your ass!” Shizuo growled. By now the two were facing one another. “We were talking about food – that has nothing to do with how much I hate you! I’ll kill you here and now if you keep talking!”

“As if you could even catch me,” the informant taunted in turn.

Yato was watching the two of them wearily, blue eyes flicking back and forth. Yukine was looking more and more irritated with the situation.

“I swear to god…” Shizuo’s voice had lowered.

“I hate to say this, Protozoan, but I think you need me to help you out in this group anyway – you’re too slow to figure any of this out… Even with your monstrous instincts, you may just end up dead!”

“That’s it!” snapped Shizuo. “It’s bad enough that I’m stuck in this stupid place that none of us have any freaking clue how we even got here – not to mention I don’t have my smokes and I’m stuck with you, of all people! Shut the fuck up for one minute!”

“But why should I, Shizu-chan?” His mouth twisted into a smile.

“Don’t… fucking… call me… Shizu-chan!” Shizuo was preparing to take a swing at Izaya as he spoke, but Yukine cut it off with a shout of “A line!” Shizuo slammed his fist into a lighted barrier instead of hitting the informant – or missing him, for that matter.

Izaya, prepared to dodge, straightened up again. “Oo~” he remarked, intrigued. “What’s this, Yukine-kun?”

“You two stop it!” Yukine ordered the two of them. Shizuo looked, bewildered, to Yukine. It seemed the ex-bartender was no longer angry. “You either don’t fight or don’t interact at all! Got it?!”

Yato burst into laughter. “They’re separated like quarreling children!” he cried in delight, clutching at his gut. “Haha…ow.”

Yukine’s brow creased. “Careful of your injury, Yato.”

“Ah, no, I’m fine, really… It’s actually already healing!” he grinned. “I’m healing slower than usual, sure, but still faster than a human!” He punctuated this good news with a peace sign as he stuck out his tongue, winking.

“…You’re annoying too,” Shizuo informed him dully. “Can we just get going again?”

“Hey…,” Yato seemed offended.

“Do you two swear not to fight if I take this down?” Yukine asked Shizuo and Izaya with narrowed eyes. The line on the ground continued to shine, light rising up like a wall in a fantasy tale.

“I don’t know, Shizu-chan’s temper is pretty unpredictable,” Izaya shrugged in a sing-song tone.

“Fuck you, Flea,” frowned Shizuo. “As long as he doesn’t fuck with my head or say anything too asshole-ish, I swear it. But I’m not making any promises.”

 “…Swearing it is making a promise, you dunce,” Izaya frowned.

“Shut the fuck up.”

Yukine, sighing, took down the boundary and started walking again. “C’mon, guys, let’s just go…”

“I hope we find food soon,” said Yato.

“Me too…,” grumbled Yukine.

“Wait a minute, do gods even need to eat?” Shizuo frowned.

“No,” answered Yukine. “They don’t. He’s just whiny.”

“And I have a hole in my gut!” the delivery god cried. “Give me a break!”

“You’re almost as annoying as the flea, sometimes, I swear—”

“Yeah, and I have to deal with him daily, even outside of this game,” Yukine sighed.

“Luckily I don’t have to deal with this maggot 24/7.” Shizuo gave Izaya a meaningful look.

“As if I want to spend all my time with a monster like you,” Izaya scoffed.

Shizuo’s throat began to rumble in protest, but Yato held up a hand, looking around.

“What is it?” asked Yukine, but Yato only shushed him.

“I swear to god, you’d better not be shittin’ us,” growled Shizuo.

Yato shook his head ever so slightly. The four of them stilled, each holding their breaths as they listened, and listened. Yato broke the silence in a sudden command of, “Sekki!” and Yukine, surprised, transformed into a sword just fast enough to block a crystal shard about to hit him.

Izaya-san!~” a childish voice resounded in utter joy as someone clad in pink and white jumped from a second story window and onto the informant, knocking him to the ground with a grunt on impact.

“Psyche!” cried someone from the window - he held some kind of crossbow.

“It’s okay; it’s okay!” Psyche said as he happily crushed Izaya beneath him. “It’s Izaya-san and Shizu-chan!”

Shizuo stiffened. “Don’t call me—”

“Now that I’ve finally found you, Izaya-san, it’ll all be okay! We can all be best friends and work together, how’s that sound?”

The corner of Izaya’s mouth twitched in irritation. “Get off of me, kid.”

“Psyche, be careful,” said a boy with white hair, having jumped after him: Kaneki, of course. The young man with the crossbow, Seidou, came down soon after. Tsuki and Shintaro peered out of the window to see what was happening.

“Are you guys attacking us or not?!” Yato questioned, and Yukine rematerialized as a human.

“Jeez,” Yukine huffed.

“Apparently not,” said Kaneki, scratching at his chin with a lopsided smile as he looked at Psyche, who was smothering Izaya with hugs. Izaya’s protests went ignored by everybody. Somehow, two Izayas didn’t seem so bad to Shizuo so long as one kept tormenting the other.

“Were you planning on attacking us?” inquired Seidou guardedly, crossbow still at the ready as Kaneki lifted Psyche from Izaya.

Izaya cleared his throat as Kaneki helped him to his feet. “On the contrary,” he smiled in his cold way. “In this game, the true target should be the ones running this game… I intend to go after them, though I won’t allow myself to be picked off by another group.”

“I dunno,” said Yukine dully, “that hug attack got you pretty good.” Yato, behind him, stifled his snickers with his hand.

Anyway,” Izaya continued, a slight edge to his tone, “there are actually a few people in this game that I know for a fact need to be disposed of – I’m sure you know who I mean.”

“Kuroha,” Psyche said, blunt and suddenly void of expression. His eyes were flat. Then he smiled a closed-eye smile, clasping his hands behind his back and rocking on the balls of his feet. “He’s definitely gotta go; he’s super mean…”

“Not to mention that butler,” Seidou nodded.

“What about the parasite?” asked Yukine.

“Freaky,” Shizuo agreed gruffly.

“Actually, he doesn’t seem all that bad,” remarked Seidou, looking up. “My group faced the group with the butler and the parasite… The parasite won’t hurt you if you won’t hurt him or his host. Still really creepy, but apparently… Well, anyway, his host actually ended up saving us.” He looked down, ashamed.

“Really…that’s interesting,” Izaya smiled, making a mental note of this so that he could better understand them – Seidou Takizawa, and Shinichi Izumi.

Slowly, the others of the group were coming out from the first-floor entrance. Shirazu, Shintaro, Roppi, and Tsuki all came out to watch the convergence of a third group. Roppi hung back, distaste clear on his face - he loathed Izaya with a passion. Tsuki, noticing, hung back beside him. Roppi uttered to him how he wished he hadn’t lost his machine gun in the first attack.

“In any case…” - Izaya held up his index finger - “…I’d like to propose that in the defeat of the two demons we should work together. From there, whether you’d like to remain in collaboration is up to you. I would personally like to try and create the ultimate alliance, once the greatest threats are out of the way. If enough people are involved, it’ll cancel out the game, you see…”

“I’ve already decided that I want to get to the bottom of this game,” Seidou responded, eyes narrowed. “I intend to do just that. If it means finding the ones running it, I’m all for it.”

“As am I,” Kaneki agreed with a nod. “I never much wanted to participate in this battle royal…”

“Sweet!” Shirazu grinned lopsidedly, showing his jagged teeth. “We’ve got another group to work with!”

“And I found Izaya-san!” Psyche added happily.

“I wish we hadn’t…,” Roppi muttered bitterly, and Tsuki fretted beside him, unsure of what to say.

“From here,” said Izaya, holding out his hand, “how about an alliance?”

Seidou glanced back at Shintaro, Roppi, and Tsuki. Shintaro shrugged at him, distressed by having a hand in the decision, while Tsuki continued to look uncomfortable and Roppi refused to look him in the eye. “If you would…” - said Seidou carefully - “…allow us all to discuss…”

Izaya lowered his hand, casually putting both in his pockets. “Sure; take your time!”

Seidou and Kaneki looked at one another and nodded before Kaneki gestured to his own group to join in quiet discussion. Moving away from Group 6, Groups 1 and 2 whispered to one another. “Alright,” said Seidou, “Roppi, Tsuki and Psyche; what do you know about these guys?”

“Izaya-san created me and Tsuki and Roppi-san,” Psyche grinned. “I love him very much - he’s like a dad or something.” He frowned. “But he doesn’t seem to know who we are, so, I dunno… Shizu-chan is the blonde, tall one. He looks grumpy but I’ve never actually met him before. He’s who Deli and Tsuki and others were based on, kinda like I come from Izaya-san and so does Roppi.”

Seidou nodded while Kaneki touched his chin in thought. “What about you two?” inquired Kaneki, looking at Tsuki and Roppi.

“I don’t know much about this guy ‘Shizu-chan,’” said Roppi, “but Izaya’s nothing but a piece of shit.”

Psyche gasped. “Roppiiii…”

“It’s true,” he said dismissively. “He’s some kind of informant, and he finds joy in manipulation. He plays god in daily life. He likes to hit people’s sore spots, and laughs when he causes people to go so far as to commit suicide… He’s nothing but bad news—a manipulator that’s bound to try and take control.”

“Shintaro?” asked Seidou. “What do you remember about all of them from our initial intros?”

“Well, that’s Group 6…,” Shintaro began, discomfort plain on his features. “Shizuo is the ‘Shizu-chan’ everyone keeps talking about,” Shintaro said, scratching his head. “He didn’t have a weapon, so he probably has the same strength as Tsuki.”

“And Deli,” Psyche added in.

A pause. The others became more solemn.

Shintaro swallowed uncomfortably. “Um, yeah… And Delic… So, then there’s Izaya Orihara, the one Roppi was warning us about. He must not have anything too special because he’s permitted a weapon, and back in the beginning he and Shizuo were arguing real bad with one another…”

Roppi laughed bitterly. “The fact they’re stuck in the same group likely makes the dynamic downright shitty.”

“Uh, yeah… And then there’s Yukine, who’s a… Shinki, I’m pretty sure he said. Apparently ‘a dead kid who’s kinda special,’ or something like that. So he must be some kind of spirit… Creepy…” Shintaro swallowed again. “Then there’s Yato, who’s some kind of delivery god. Neither of them were permitted weapons, so they’ve gotta be strong. It looked like Yukine just became a sword, so I guess he is Yato’s weapon…?”

“He kinda acted pretty goofy, though, didn’t he? Yato, I mean,” said Shirazu, scratching his head.

Roppi scoffed. “Someone who’s been around long enough to be a god… I don’t think that’s the real him unless he really is that oblivious and shallow. I’m going to hazard a guess this guy just puts on that show to hide something else. Kinda like—…agh, never mind…”

“Alright, so it seems Yato can be dangerous…” Seidou mused.

“They also seem to want to end the game, though, and Izaya is right about us needing to go after the person or people running this game,” said Kaneki. “If they have any honor at all, we should be able to stand working with them to achieve the ends we all want.”

Roppi didn’t seem to like the idea.

“E…even though I-Izaya can be mean…” Tsuki spoke up for the first time tentatively, “I-I…I do think he’s right about…about m-making the—the ultimate alliance and…and cancelling out the—the game. Th-there would be, um, less f-fighting if we…um… if we t-teamed up with them…”

“I’m pretty sure that they want to find the ones running this as much as we do,” Kaneki concurred. “Shirazu; Psyche? Do you agree that we should team up with them?”

“Ya-hum!” Psyche chirped.

“Yeah, sure - we’ll just be careful about ‘em. Keep an eye out, right?” said Shirazu, and Kaneki nodded.

“Of course.”

“What about my group?” asked Seidou, looking around at Tsuki, Roppi, and Shintaro.

“U-um, sure…I don’t want to fight anyone again…,” Shintaro replied.

“I-I…well…” Tsuki looked at Roppi.

Roppi sighed heavily. “Fine… I just don’t want to interact with Izaya…”

“Th-then I’m alright with it too…,” said Tsuki.

“Alright,” Seidou nodded. “Let’s do it, then.”

The two groups returned to Group 6. Yato and Yukine were bickering with one another by the time Groups 1 and 2 came back. Shizuo and Izaya were plainly ignoring one another – or rather, Shizuo was trying very hard to ignore Izaya, who was prodding at him with his silent, smug smiles. The four turned to them, waiting for a response. “Well?” Izaya inquired pleasantly, holding out his hand once more.

 Sighing, Seidou took his hand. “Group 2’s in, though keep in mind we’ll remain on our guard.”

“As will Group 1,” said Kaneki, shaking Izaya’s hand in turn.

“That’s only fair,” Izaya nodded, mouth twisting in its cold way. “You can be sure that Group 6 will also be on their toes…”

“Should we do introductions?” asked Psyche brightly. “I mean, I know Izaya-san, but I dunno that he knows me, and then there Tsuki and Roppi-san, plus I’ve never actually met Shizu-chan before, and…”

Shizuo twitched at the nickname.

“I do think introductions are due, Psyche,” Kaneki smiled gently.

“Well, which way are you guys heading, anyway?” asked Yukine.

“Or were you just camping out in the city for now?” Yato stroked his chin.

“We’d been heading south,” Kaneki explained, “but I’d smelled you before you got here.”

Shizuo grunted. Apparently smelling people coming was normal.

“Why don’t we…give name, species, and weapon?” Seidou suggested, then turned to the four new members of the alliance. “Have you guys eaten recently?”

“No,” Shizuo said dully. Yato’s eyes glimmered with hope. Yukine looked at Seidou with anticipation. Shizuo half-hoped that this guy would say that they only had a supply of sweets, but that was just him wanting Izaya to suffer.

Seidou laughed weakly at the way they’d snapped their heads to look at him when he’d mentioned food. Izaya laughed freely.

“There’s a pretty good supply in the store right here,” Shirazu grinned lopsidedly, showing his jagged teeth again as he jerked his thumb in the direction of the building that his groups had come out of.

“I guess we can do for a nice lunch - maybe we can all sit down to eat and discuss who we all are there,” Seidou suggested.

“Sounds good,” Shintaro said weakly, immediately turning to wander slowly back inside the store. He was just pleased for the air conditioning. He craved a nice sub, or one of his mother’s sandwiches: made with love…

Roppi grunted and followed after him, admittedly pissed because now Izaya was involved. So much for killing him. He sighed sharply. None of this was going well at all. Not only was he the first hurt, he’d also lost his badass weapon in the very first fight. To top that off, now he was stuck with Izaya. Fan-fucking-tastic.

“So, if we’re doing introductions,” Yato said proudly, jutting his thumb at his chest as they all walked indoors, “I’m Yato! I’m a god - a god of fortune! I’m the coolest person in my group!”

“When did you get so cocky?” grumbled Shizuo while Izaya snickered and Yukine sighed heavily.

“God of fortune, huh?” asked Shirazu, scratching his head. “Cool.”

“I thought you were a delivery god, or something…” Shintaro furrowed his brow, perplexed.

“I, uh…well, I am!” Yato confirmed. “I’m not a god of fortune yet…but I will be! This is Yukine, my pride and joy!”

“Hi, my species is human, kinda,” Yukine said dully, looking irked as Yato lovingly embraced him by the neck.

“You’d said…you were dead, right?” asked Shintaro tentatively.

Yukine sighed again. “Yep.”

“You don’t look dead,” commented Psyche, prodding at him.

“Yeah, he’s pretty solid!” Izaya agreed, happily slapping Yukine on the back.

“Hey—!”

“Don’t touch him,” Shizuo said bluntly.

“But Shizu-chan~”

“Don’t call me Shizu-chan.”

Psyche gasped. “But Shizu-chan…!”

“…” Shizuo pinched the bridge of his nose. This was going to be a long day.

The group of eleven eventually reached the reserves of food and began sitting down for lunch. Everyone sat and discussed intros and what kind of places they came from. Yato and Yukine ate ravenously, though Shizuo also took a hearty portion in a more uncomfortable and tentative way. Izaya took a small bit in comparison. Casual conversation picked up… Shintaro would remark to Yukine how he reminded him of a little kid he’d met soon before he’d been brought into the game. Yukine, annoyed with being called a ‘little kid,’ replied with the fact Shintaro seemed a lot like his lame master Yato. Both Yato and Shintaro cried out in protest - Yato for being called lame and Shintaro for being compared to him. Meanwhile, Shirazu, Roppi, and Shizuo were all talking with one another about how stupid this game was in their own ways while Tsuki gave some nervous input here and there. Roppi was coming to find that although Izaya really rubbed him the wrong way, he didn’t mind Shizuo as much. Kaneki, Seidou, and Izaya all tried to discuss the events leading up to the present for each of their respective groups. They spoke of dynamics and battles as well as what they’d seen of the layout of the playing field. While they tried to talk, Psyche was excitedly taking part, trying to gain the love and approval of Izaya.

While Kaneki, Seidou, and Izaya (plus Psyche) talked about their groups, the next plan of action came into discussion. “At this point,” said Seidou, “I know I want to figure this game out, and I’m betting that means we have to find the creator or stop the game…”

“But in order to stop the game, there are certain players that might not let that happen,” Kaneki pointed out.

“Like the demons,” Psyche agreed brightly.

“Well,” Izaya said with a thin, plotting kind of smile, “I do have an idea in mind…”

“Oo, I bet it’s great!” chirped Psyche.

“What is it?” inquired Kaneki, eyes vaguely suspicious. Seidou’s expression was hard, guarded. Both of them knew they needed to tread carefully with this guy… Not necessarily because he was ‘dangerous,’ per se - rather, it was more about not wanting to be used as a tool.

“Well, judging by the dynamics of the groups I know about…” Izaya began, “…I can figure who it is we need to go after first.”

“Kuroha?” Psyche asked brightly, a dark spark in his eyes.

Izaya nodded. “That’s exactly right.” He held up a finger, smiling slyly. “We have three groups combined now, and of all three, we only have one man down and two with more serious injuries, one of which is healing at a faster rate anyway… I’ve spoken to Group 5, the one Kuroha is from. In conversation, by the way they acted…I know that even they don’t want Kuroha in their group. If they had the chance to do so, they’d off him too.”

Kaneki nodded. “I know one of the group members.” Glancing at Seidou, he continued, “He’s the ghoul known as the Gourmet.” Seidou’s mouth downturned ever so slightly in a suppressed sour expression. “I know he won’t fight me willingly… He may go so far as to try to protect me. The other members of my group, or any of yours, however…isn’t guaranteed. I can ask him not to hurt any of you. I don’t know if he’ll listen, but there’s a little bit of an advantage.”

“Ah, ah,” said Psyche, raising his hand. “I, I, there’s only three members of Kuroha’s group now.”

Kaneki closed his eyes. “That’s right. The smallest, the Deadman…he’s deceased.”

“Really…” Izaya took note of this in his head, then chuckled. “Well, the third of the group is really only keeping on in hopes of sticking around to protect his sibling, wherever they may be. Because of that, he’ll probably switch sides depending upon who wins…not that that’s a bad thing. I’d do the same.”

“So we’re going after group 5, then…,” said Seidou. “We’ll want to try and catch them by surprise. Especially with a demon and a ghoul in the mix…”

“We can use Yato for help with that,” smiled Izaya. “I’ll explain later. We’ll have to work together to make up our strategy.”

“Oh boy, can I help?” asked Psyche brightly.

“Maybe,” said Kaneki warmly. “I’m sure everyone can have a bit of a say in this…”

“Careful with that one,” snickered Izaya, “Shizu-chan over there’s kind of a protozoan - I wouldn’t want him making any plans.”

“I heard that, you maggot,” growled Shizuo, jumping into the conversation.

“It’s only the truth - you can’t follow logic at all,” Izaya sneered.

“Oh, shut the fuck up. I’m not that stupid, louse.”

“No, really, you’re very much an idiot.”

“You’re very much a flea, ya little shit…!”

Putting a hand to his mouth, Kaneki began to chuckle softly, averting his eyes and hiding his vague smile with his hand. Seidou and Psyche peered at him curiously. “Kane-kun? Laughing! What’s funny?” inquired Psyche.

“Ah…nothing…”

Shizuo and Izaya looked at him, both of them looking irked. “What.” Shizuo looked most pissed off.

“I’m…not sure…” He shook his head, lowering his hand and revealing a soft, nostalgic smile. “You two…the way you argue - you seem to remind me of two old friends of mine… They’d fight that exact same way. Calling each other idiots, using profanity and the like… They seemed to hate each other, but they were…truly good friends. I used to work with them in a coffee shop. Granted, they’re definitely a lot different than the two of you…” He put a hand to his chin, smiling pleasantly at Shizuo and Izaya. “Sorry about that.”

Shintaro blinked, suddenly taken back to his own relationship with an old friend he’d always argued with. Ah, but that was long gone, now, too. He mumbled something like the name ‘Takane.’

Shizuo looked like he was about to explode.

“I…wouldn’t say such a horrible thing in front of Shizu-chan,” said Izaya, amused and annoyed all at once. “He might snap on you.”

“Fuck you, louse,” Shizuo growled. “Kaneki or whatever the fuck your name is, let me get this straight with you. I hate this guy. He screws with people for fun and that pisses me off. Got it clear? I hate him.

“Don’t worry, the feelings are mutual,” said Izaya with a bitter look - a reminder that he didn’t want to work with Shizuo any more than Shizuo wanted to work with him.

“So,” said Seidou, trying to cut off the tension that had pretty much silenced every other conversation, “why don’t we talk about our abilities, if we’re discussing fighting Kuroha? We’ve gotta know each other’s strong points to come up with a strategy.”

Kaneki hummed in concurrence. “I do well with long- and short-range attacks. I do fairly well with dodging, and I heal quickly.”

“Meanwhile, I’m better with long-range because of my crossbow,” Seidou added. “I’m physically trained too, though, so close-range with a… regular human is something I can manage just fine.” He said this with some discomfort. It was easier to objectify another species.

“Okay, okay,” said Shirazu. “I can’t do long-range. I’ve gotta do short-range. My aim sucks.”

“I do have a way with words,” Izaya said thoughtfully, “so I can definitely distract the enemy and get into their heads… But, ah, I’m good with strategizing and dodging, though I am quite adept with using my knife,” he added cheerfully.

Shizuo grunted at the mention of dodging. “No shit…” So many times he’d tried to beat him to a pulp. So many times, he had missed…

“I, I, I-I could be—um, a-a medic…,” said Tsuki, twiddling his thumbs.

“I’d say I’m good with long-range,” said Roppi with a deep frown, “but – y’know… My machine gun’s gone. I guess short-range for me if I could at least find a knife… but at that point I could really only go against humans.” Roppi pointed his thumb at Shintaro. “He’s a shut-in. He doesn’t really have strong points…”

“Hey!” Shintaro cried. “I…!”

“When did that even happen, anyway?” asked Shirazu, scratching at his orange hair.

“I, uh…” He hung his head. “It was at the beginning of junior year of high school, so um…”

“What are you, a hikkiNEET or something?” Izaya smiled knowingly.

“I, uh… Nn…”

“So ya dropped out, huh…” Shirazu nodded a bit. “My grades sucked, personally… I almost dropped outta school too.”

“I dropped out after sophomore year - we’re both drop-outs anyway,” Roppi added, rolling his eyes. “Yeah. We suck.”

“I… Yeah…” Shintaro closed his eyes.

“That doesn’t mean you suck,” Seidou huffed, crossing his arms. “I’m sure something was going through your heads that was distracting all of you, that’s all… For you to drop out, something had to have been going on. It’s not any of your faults for bad grades or anything of the sort.”

Shintaro, head still bowed, disagreed. “No…” His eyes were flat again. “It wasn’t that. Not at all… Maybe it was for Shirazu, or Roppi, but I… My grades were perfect. Straight A’s. The top of the class. No one could beat me.” Seidou frowned, his jaw tightening. “I didn’t have to try. It all came so easy.” The CCG officer could see the dullness in Shintaro’s eyes as he stared at his profile, downturned and expressionless. Suddenly, he reminded him far too much of Akira. It was then that Shintaro looked at him with that expressionless face and said, “I’m glad I stopped. There was no point anyway.”

Seidou stood, eyes aflame. “…You say it was pointless? When everything came so easy, and you…you didn’t even care? It’s people like that that I despise the most—someone who never has to try and succeeds so easy—and they don’t even care—!” He was fighting to keep his voice level, but all the stress of the current situation was leaking out all the same. “They can’t see what they can do when it’s all right in front of them! You think it doesn’t matter? I bet there were people striving to be as smart as you, and yet no matter how hard they try they can never reach your level… And yet you pass it off as nothing? Why would you throw that away?”

“I had my reasons, okay?!” Shintaro snapped. The two stared at one another. Everyone was dead quiet. Shintaro lowered his eyes, and then his head, shoulders sagging. “But they’re no excuse. I know I’m pathetic, alright…? I don’t want to talk about it. You’re right.”

Seidou swallowed. He felt like a complete asshole, instant regret burning in his chest. How was he supposed to take this kid? Shintaro…what was going through his head? Seidou sat back down. “…Look, Shintaro. It isn’t you. I’m sure I misunderstood… somewhere. You’re not pathetic. We’re all just tense with the life-threatening situation at hand. I’m glad to be in your group, so… so stop sulking already, would you?”

“But…but…” Shintaro looked it him, eyes shining with tears, back to normal. “…But there’s no internet here!” he cried, and Seidou sighed, unable to keep himself from smiling. While Tsuki awkwardly tried to comfort Shintaro and Roppi watched with dull eyes, red-trimmed sleeve to his mouth, Izaya smiled at Seidou.

“You know…” said the informant, “…I don’t think it was coincidence that you were placed in group number two, Seidou-kun.”

Seidou looked as though he’d been slapped, then frowned at him. He was about to respond angrily when Kaneki said, “Leave him be. We don’t need conflict. We’re going to work together from here. We have to take care of Kuroha…”

“I’ll take care of him,” said Shizuo lowly, grabbing at his Eskimo-like hood.

“Fine, fine,” Izaya gave in, laughing a bit and holding up his hands in a gesture of peace.

Notes:

Ah, the refreshing sight of cooperation... for the most part.

Chapter 16: Have A Heart

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Kuroha held up his hand as his group approached the western woods, signaling for Tsukiyama and Yoh to stop. Kuroha had created a makeshift splint for his arm while Deceiver #2 and Gourmet were sleeping last night. He knew they didn’t want to be around him – why should he let them know about the fact he couldn’t heal? They’d probably take advantage of it eventually…or he’d kill them either way. Whatever.

Yoh’s blue eyes were filled with a cold determination – he’d tried to kill the grief and for now everything had to do with his sister. Even though he’d come to discover that he really did find Ganta was a friend…and even though he was dead, now…he still had his sister waiting for him in his world. He needed to get back to her and take care of her. For her, he couldn’t die. He had to keep going.

Tsukiyama thought mostly of Kaneki and of how carefully he himself would have to tread in the group he was in. He didn’t worry too much about little Yoh - no, he was more concerned about Kuroha and what his plans were… Tsukiyama blinked, realizing why Kuroha had stopped them. In the distance, he could hear twigs snapping and the vague babbling that, up close, would be conversation. “A group’s ahead,” Tsukiyama said, and Yoh looked at him.

“Well, are we gonna get rid of them?” asked Yoh. He felt that the good news about being with Kuroha is that he knew a lot of the worst enemies could be demolished without Yoh getting hurt, so long as he took very good care of himself. He’d have to be on the defense. As of right now, he wanted to get rid of as many enemies as possible while trying to stay on Kuroha’s good side.

Said android smiled. “I think we’re going to try that… Yes. I think this may be the group with that butler, the other demon in this game…” His yellow, serpentine eyes glimmered in anticipation. “We’re all going to immediately go for his master, the little one. We will use my speed to get there. I will take the demon when they fight. Gourmet, you can take the parasite. Deceiver #2…do what you can.”

“Uh…okay,” Yoh frowned, slightly annoyed.

Allons-y,” Tsukiyama smiled.

“Don’t make a sound,” Kuroha said, and with that he grabbed his two teammates and slung them over either shoulder before jumping into the sky. Tsukiyama was wordlessly angered - he could carry himself just fine with speed and stealth. Yoh gasped at the suddenness, but refrained from making any noise, as commanded.

Yukiteru, A-ya, C-ta, Ciel, and Shinichi were all engaged in pleasant conversation. Well, for the most part pleasant, with a snarky remark from Ciel here and there. It was Migi who first spoke up about the approaching threat, uttering in his shrill tones to Sebastian that he could sense someone with a high level of power approaching. Sebastian only nodded and smiled.

Shinichi heard it himself a split second before it all began - one moment the majority of them were all unsuspecting, and the next there were three people aiming for Ciel all at once, from three different sides. One, Tsukiyama, had his purple, spiraling kagune blade against the blade of Migi’s own offensive position, tiny appendages lengthening and thinning out into sharp edges. He used four of these at once to block the kagune. At the same moment, Shinichi had caught the wrist of Yoh, stopping his crimson sword from coming any closer to Ciel. Lastly, there was Sebastian, arm-to-arm with Kuroha himself. There was a mild explosion of air bursting from the contact they’d made at the blow between each other, each forearm perpendicular to the other’s. Time froze for the two demons. They gazed at one another, each knowing that there was going to be an interesting battle to come. Each pair of orbs had pupils that were slits, one with irises burning red and the other with irises glowing yellow.

Yukiteru staggered backwards, while A-ya stood frozen. C-ta’s grip on his box cutter tightened in his pocket. How amazing that group was, thought Yukiteru – thank god Ciel was safe.

Though Ciel had at first been surprised, the shock was replaced with smug amusement. “You think you can best my butler? Sebastian…kill the other demon.”

“Yes, my lord,” Sebastian smiled sweetly, and Kuroha chuckled lowly.

“We’ll see…”

The snake and the crow disappeared together, and Tsukiyama slashed at Migi with all of his force. Migi blocked, and their own battle began as the ghoul and the half-parasite exchanged blows at inhuman speeds on the ground. “Cominciamo!” Tsukiyama cried in his melodramatic way.

At some point in time, Sebastian had called out to his master to step back from the fighting and remain out of range of everyone’s attacks. Ciel had thus grudgingly retreated further back with Group 3.

“Migi!” Shinichi shouted to his hand over the clashing of metal on metal. “Can you handle him on your own?”

“Yes, Shinichi, for now I’m just fine,” Migi responded simply. “Take care of the others if you’d really like.” Shinichi nodded and looked at Group 3 before grabbing Ciel and jumping up into a tree, setting him down gently and telling him he could watch the fight safely from there. He then jumped back to pay attention to the ghoul.

Yoh being the only one not fighting from Group 5, he had to make a choice - help the gourmet in fighting the parasite pair, or go after the other group that happened to be here. Had the two groups made an alliance? That’s what it looked like to him.

C-ta took a step forward, his green eyes ice cold, expression dark and twisted in malice. “You won’t hurt us; I’ll make sure I’ll kill you.” His gentle tones had gone harsh.

Yoh, taking this as a challenge, put up his own friendly persona in contrast - well…his playful one, anyway. “Ah, is that a challenge? Come on, then!” Yoh, knuckles white as he gripped the hilt ever tighter, swung the sword at him. C-ta dodged and swiped a concealed box cutter at Yoh, successfully slicing through his prison attire and grazing his chest. C-ta smiled. Annoyed and surprised, Yoh backed off, deciding to take him more seriously. The two squared off. A-ya and Yukiteru watched. Shinichi was caught between that battle and the battle with Tsukiyama. A-ya was frozen, gripping his scissors in front of him with trembling hands. His mouth opened once as if he were trying to say something, but no sound ever came out.

Yukiteru looked at the fight between C-ta and Yoh, sword against box cutter. Then he looked at the battle between Sebastian and Kuroha, one that he couldn’t even see what was happening. Then his eyes turned to the fight between Shinichi, Migi, and Tsukiyama. Ghouls and parasites… What could he do here? He was useless; even C-ta was able to take part in this… Maybe that was better, anyway…

He thought of Yuno, and the way he had to rely on her insane ability to protect him and get rid of the others in the battle royal back at home… And by insane he meant she was totally crazy. C-ta seemed to be the same, or at least he was coming to be that way… Why should he rely on that? He shouldn’t have to be dependent forever. Right?

His fingertips touched the top flap of the dart holder attached to his belt. Fear slowly transforming into determination, his eyes narrowed as he focused. The future diary owner gestured to Shinichi to come over. He may just have a plan.

Shinichi looked at Yukiteru, then looked back at Migi. “I’ll be back!” he said to his parasite, and made his way over to Yukiteru, his arm stretching to strange lengths as if it were merely a very large piece of taffy. “What is it?” asked Shinichi.

“I, um… I don’t know that this is such a good idea,” Yukiteru said, fists clenching and unclenching, “but about that purple guy…” – Tsukiyama, of course – “…and the guy with the hair over his eye…” That would be Yoh.

“Yeah?” Shinichi’s eyes were inquiring. Curious.

“Um, they might not want to fight too… The purple one’s definitely the stronger, though, so… Maybe, with my darts… I could—”

“You shouldn’t get involved,” Shinichi said bluntly. “You could get killed.”

“No, no!” Yukiteru protested. “Hear me out! I have my darts…and my aim…I have, um, really good aim. If maybe you could just throw me into the air…if I had something propelling me forward so that I could be fast enough… then maybe I could hit him with one of my darts. Not for a killing blow, really, but just to catch him off guard enough that we can immobilize him and talk to him. You know? And then if we can’t convince him and he really wants to kill us…well…you guys can do what you want.”

Shinichi looked down, considering this. “…How good is your aim, exactly?”

“I…get double bullseyes?”

“…Do you think you can get in the ghoul’s eye?”

“I, uh…” Once upon a time, Yukiteru had stabbed a terrorist in the eye. It still made him uncomfortable, but hey, there you go. “…Yeah, I think so.”

“Alright… How do you feel about flying?”

“I just want to do this,” Yukiteru said weakly. “I know it’ll freak me out. I get it. But…but if I scream, he’ll look at me, and if he looks at me, I can get him in the eye like you want… It’s just…I’ll have to be coming fast enough that I can get him in the eye before he can get me in what’d probably be the chest…”

“Hmm…” Shinichi watched the fight between Migi and Tsukiyama, waiting for a good moment to initiate the plan.

Yukiteru looked at A-ya, who was staring fixedly at C-ta. Yukiteru realized that A-ya was probably out of his mind with fear right now… Yukiteru understood. A-ya hadn’t faced anyone yet. Yukiteru just had a little bit of a head-start in the battle royal business, that’s all. Don’t worry, A-ya, he thought with a smile. You’re awesome at talking and convincing… We really get along. I’ll try and do my part too.

At that thought, Yukiteru was yanked upwards by Shinichi, nestled in the crook of his arm - Yukiteru yelped as the ground disappeared and shrunk beneath him. Time slowed, and they seemed to hover for a moment as he fumbled with his dart holder and pulled out his dart. Shinichi prepared the launch, and then pitched Yukiteru downwards, and fast - right towards the gourmet. His voice was a yell, rising at first in panic and then in a battle cry as he wielded his dart. Migi and the gourmet looked up at him in surprise, heads turning as Yukiteru came crashing down onto Tsukiyama, dart sliding off the actual eyeball and embedding itself in the mucous membrane of Tsukiyama’s right eye. It was, in fact, the only part of a ghoul that could be pierced by natural metal.

Staggering backwards, Tsukiyama grasped blindly at Yukiteru and threw him to the side. Yukiteru slammed his back into a tree and fell to his hands and knees, gasping for air, but was alright besides a possibly bruised back and having the wind knocked out of him.

“We don’t have to fight,” Shinichi said to Tsukiyama, on one knee as the ghoul hissed and held his hand to his bleeding eye. “We only want to get rid of Kuroha.”

“And I…,” Tsukiyama began, but Shinichi, distracted by the human versus human battle behind him, ran and grabbed Yoh by the collar before he could seriously injure C-ta. C-ta, breathing heavily, smiled pleasantly at Shinichi for helping him out. Shinichi merely nodded at him. Despite Yoh’s protests, Shinichi dragged him over to the injured Tsukiyama and the winded Yukiteru, Migi holding onto the crimson sword that he had used in battle.

“I don’t wish to fight,” Tsukiyama stated as they approached. “I really don’t. It’s all in the hands of that all-too-powerful android, Kuroha…” Yes, this was the perfect thing to say. He could easily manipulate the situation at this point… God, though his eye certainly hurt terribly. He smiled about it. Impressive, for a human. Tsukiyama might have been a bit offended.

“You think I’d wanna go against that guy?” Yoh emphasized, gesturing upwards to the demons’ battle.

Shinichi began to respond as the two demons crashed down, blowing everyone on the ground off of their feet. The ground shook. A crater was created.

Sebastian and Kuroha had exchanged both blows and taunts while still in the air. It seemed that neither believed that they would lose, but one of them had to be wrong, right?

They poked and prodded at one another - there was, at least, one thing they agreed upon: the most tragic of souls tasted the best. As they danced la danse macabre faster than the human eye could comprehend, they had casual, light conversation consisting of jabs and sarcasm. Sebastian spoke politely, overly sweet but with a menacing air. Kuroha spoke in a demeaning fashion, harsher than the one masked with sugar. Both were arrogantly confident through it all. They fought with their demon strength as well as with their words. Neither had caused any harm to the other yet, but Kuroha had an advantage that Sebastian did not: Kuroha knew that he couldn’t heal, and presumably, neither could Sebastian.

So, there came a point when Kuroha made contact with a kick to Sebastian’s gut as he smiled that ever so smugly sweet smile, and Sebastian was slammed downwards into the ground, where the impact seemed to rock the world as he made a crater where he landed. Allowing the kick was a gesture Sebastian had made to knock down the battles below as well as to up Kuroha’s confidence a bit more so that he may make a mistake, but as it turned out, it was Sebastian who had made the blunder. Kuroha landed just beside the dirty basin created by Sebastian’s fall, smiling wide with his luminescent eyes narrowed. All around him, the other group members from every side were blown back and knocked over, save for Ciel who clung to his tree for dear life. Sebastian rose from the crater, looking supremely pissed off.

“Something wrong?” Kuroha asked him coolly.

Pausing, the crow demon put a hand to his mouth before going to one knee and choking out a spatter of blood.

“You’re not healing, are you?” the snake inquired, though he already knew. “That’s too bad… Don’t you know yet that you can’t heal here?”

“Sebastian!” Ciel called out.

His butler, still kneeling, smiled a cruel smile, beginning to emanate darkness and ill intent. “Ah, it seems so… It’s too bad – these gloves are ruined, now.” He stood once more, taking each red-stained glove from his hands and tossing them to the side. “It’s a shame, Serpent… I know for a fact that you can’t be stronger than I am. You can’t even go on without your own physical form - you have to possess a vessel. How petty… You’re more a parasite than a demon.”

Kuroha gave an annoyed tsk before responding, “It’s actually the contrary. I’ve possessed the perfect body, one that is empty of ‘self’ and stronger than any human… I’m on the same level as you, Crow.” As he spoke, the darkness radiating from him, too, became pronounced.

“Perhaps you won’t be so confident when you see my true form,” smiled Sebastian, his red irises stirring. “Young Master…please shield your eyes.”

While the youngest begrudgingly did so, Sebastian continued to grow darker, though over time his expression grew more and more sour.

“What’s the matter?” Kuroha asked smugly. “Can’t use your true form, either, Crow? I’ve been nice, you know, letting you figure these things out without trying to attack you even once…but you could at least be a little more impressive.”

Smirking, Sebastian responded, “To be able to defeat you even with these limitations… to be unable to do so is to be unfit as a Phantomhive butler. As I am bound to my master, I must obey his every command. I have been ordered to kill you, and so I will. It is as simple as that.”

“When we spoke of souls, you said that your master’s wish was one of vengeance, right?” inquired Kuroha, cocking an eyebrow.

“That’s so.”

Kuroha laughed. “You’re the one that shouldn’t be so confident. I’m going to win, Crow… Do you know why?” Sebastian only looked at him with narrowed eyes and a hard expression. “You and I are both bound by wishes. That is your purpose and mine. It’s what we’re here for. You’re bound by something rooted in bitterness… Do you know what the most powerful of human emotions is? It’s a petty thing, a foolish thing… And yet they fall into it again and again… I’m going to win this fight because the wish of my master is rooted in love.” With this, he was airborne, and then standing right in front of Sebastian. Kuroha’s face had split into a grin stretching from ear to ear. “And I’m going to satisfy that love, proving to my master again and again how love goes hand-in-hand with despair.” A step forward. “I’ll rip their heart to shreds, over and over and over!” Another. “I’ll allow them that love, and using it I’ll ensure their downfall again and again and again! Tragedy after tragedy, that’s what I live for! That foolish love is far stronger than petty revenge…” He took a deep breath. “That,” he grinned, expression twisted in sadistic glee, “is why I’ll be the one to win.”

“We shall see,” said Sebastian, voice ice. He struck at Kuroha.

Somewhere, the Voice named Muse smiled and flipped a switch.

The two fought harder than before, each contact creating shockwaves that made any other trying to stand stagger. The others found it difficult to watch the fight. At this point it seemed they were equal with one another, blow for blow, hit for hit. Neither could hurt the other once more, now that offense and defense were equally paid mind to.

Just as it seemed to everyone, frozen as they watched in awe and perhaps in terror, that this fight would simply not end, Kuroha jerked to a stop suddenly and Sebastian’s arm pierced straight through the chest of the android, right where the heart should be. Sebastian smiled, satisfied. As he was about to rip out his appendage and let Kuroha bleed, his cold hands gripped at his arm. The serpent looked at Sebastian with an altogether different expression, looking somewhat lost and introspective. One of his eyes had gone watermelon pink, the other, though still yellow, dulling. He spoke, but his voice was gentler, softer. “Something like, love,” said the android, “is something, I don’t think I understand. But…my heart hurts. I think, your arm is…in the way.”

Perplexed, Sebastian yanked his arm from the grasp of the android as well as his chest. The android did not protest against this. The android fell to his knees, an impressive hole in his chest showing the grass behind him even as it dripped and oozed with thick red.

Ciel called his butler’s name and ordered a retreat. The butler looked at the android bitterly for a moment, considering offing him right then and there, but then Ciel called for him again and he jumped off, grabbing his young master and then A-ya on Ciel’s request before bounding off. Shinichi and Migi took care of C-ta and Yukiteru, though Shinichi glanced back at Tsukiyama and Yoh before he, too, jumped away, leaving Group 5 behind them with an impressive amount of zero casualties in their wake.

Yoh took a tentative step towards Kuroha, wondering if perhaps he flipped personalities or something. He backed off when Kuroha glared at him with his yellow eyes. Yoh decidedly avoided him. The entire clearing had become physically cold. Seemed like the demon was back to normal, and he was incredibly pissed. Tsukiyama wordlessly agreed with the decision to stay back and not bother him.

Smart choice.


 

“Is everyone okay?” asked Shinichi after they were well out of range of Group 5 and he and Sebastian could put down the members of Group 3, plus Ciel.

“I just wish I’d have killed him,” Sebastian gave a small frown with a sad little sigh.

“I’m just… sleepy…,” mumbled Migi, closing his eye, drooping, and at last turning back into a hand.

Shinichi breathed his own sigh. “There he goes…”

“Well, I’m glad he at least stuck around for the battle,” Ciel huffed, crossing his arms.

“Ah, C-ta, are you alright?” asked Yukiteru, peering at his throat. “You’re bleeding a little…”

“Ah, no…” C-ta waved him off with a smile. “I’m fine; Yoh just tried to threaten me with his sword as all. Both of us had our blades to the other’s throat by the end… Thank you, Shinichi, for getting me out of that dead end.”

Shinichi nodded. “Of course…”

A-ya merely stared at the ground, feeling horribly worthless to have not done anything at all the entire time. C-ta noticed and went over to him. “Ah, A-ya, you’re so helpless… It’s fine – I’ll protect you, remember?”

Giving C-ta a bothered and perhaps angry side glance, Yukiteru addressed the butler. “Ah, Sebastian, are you gonna be alright? You, um…”

“I’ll be fine,” he said with an annoyed smile. “I’m just disappointed about my tarnished gloves.” Ciel rolled his eyes.

“Um, do you think that the other demon…?” Yukiteru swallowed.

“Do you think he’ll die?” finished Ciel, quirking an eyebrow. It looked more like he was just raising his eyebrows because one of them was covered by his hair. Oh well. “I wish,” he scoffed. “Who knows; we can hope so…”

“He did have a sizeable hole in his chest, though,” C-ta remarked, brow furrowed. “I mean…I saw the ground behind him.”

“Well, if anything’s good news, he won’t be able to heal it,” Shinichi pointed out.

“Sebastian wouldn’t be quite so disappointed if he were going to die, I think,” said Ciel.

“Well, Young Master, I could be overestimating him,” Sebastian smiled sweetly, putting a hand to his chin as though he were being thoughtful. “However, when I pierced him, I did notice that he has nothing that can be called a ‘heart’… His chest was empty in that respect, though he did have lungs and whatnot.”

“Hm…interesting,” Shinichi commented absently, unconsciously gripping at his own chest thinking about it.  Beneath his hand, beneath the cloth he held, there was his chest, marred by the thickly-formed scar directly over where something called a ‘heart’ should be… He suddenly felt as though he were teetering on the edge of some kind of cliff - was about to fall, he was about to break - his breathing became shallower; it got hard to take in air. All of his muted emotions threatened to break through all at once before—

“How does he get the blood going, though?” asked Yukiteru.

“It seemed to be a different kind of system,” Sebastian explained. “It’s nothing I’ve ever come across before myself… something artificial, I’m sure.”

“…That’s a shame,” said Shinichi, distant as ever, lowering his hand from his chest. Everything was numb once more. He was fine. “He was pretty much a monster.”

“And Sebastian isn’t?” asked Ciel. This time he was raising both eyebrows, not that anyone else could tell.

Shinichi closed his eyes. “I never said that.”

Yoh and Tsukiyama, in the meantime, were wondering the same kinds of things. “Do you think…” Yoh began, careful of his word choice in case Kuroha could hear him, “…do you think, um…he’s gonna be okay?”

“I’m not too sure, Yoh-kun,” the gourmet responded honestly. “However… I must say that I’m more confused as to what happened, exactly… It seemed very much unlike him, non?”

“Yeah… You’re right.”

They watched as Kuroha, sitting cross-legged on the ground and looking as though he wanted to slaughter the world, lifted both layers of shirt (both black) before untying the two flaps hanging around his waist - one in front, one in back. The bottom corners of each flap became straps with buckles that connected together. He unbuckled these and pulled off the flaps before beginning to wrap them as tightly as possible around his chest. Afterwards he wrapped around the straps, buckling them as tight as they would go without restricting his ribs from moving to breathe. “I won’t die from this, Deceiver #2,” he informed them, letting Yoh know that yes, he could hear them very clearly. “I don’t have a heart in this body, so none of my organs were ruptured. I think I’ve figured out my weak spot, but understandably I won’t be letting either of you know what it is. As for the way I was acting…” – he put his shirts back on – “…that’s just an unpleasant surprise, that’s all.”

“But what even happened?” Yoh frowned, putting a hand on his hip.

Kuroha made an annoyed tch sound. “I’d thought that he was gone—the one inhabiting this vessel. I thought my presence made his frail sense of self dissipate. This is only an empty vessel after all; there is no human soul in this body. But no. It seems the other one is still around, as bothersome as that might be…” Kuroha got bitterer throughout his explanation, and by the end of it, he was biting out his words.

Tsukiyama and Yoh wordlessly decided not to ask him anything more about the matter. If this clearing got any colder, it may start snowing. Wasn’t he a demon? Maybe hell had frozen over after all. In any case, Yoh and Tsukiyama were apparently getting better at this wordless communication. Perhaps they were bonding? Well, that’s one word for it…

The battle of demons was one that had been seen even over in the city area as the three allied groups made their way back south to where the buildings started getting smaller. They all stopped to stare as they witnessed the black blurs battling, bringing gusts of wind that reached even them, this far away. The expressions on every face were different in their own respects. Izaya made it a point in his mind to catch at least a glimpse of every reaction.

“We…” Shintaro’s voice was weak. “…We’re gonna…fight that?” He swallowed. The hikkiNEET lost any confidence he might have developed over the time they’d been discussing the plan.

“I should definitely be dead right now,” remarked Roppi in a ‘go figure’ kind of tone that said he really didn’t care.

“W-well… um…” Tsuki was fidgeting. “W-well, you’re not, so… I…I’m glad.”

Roppi gave a noncommittal grunt.

“But if they’re fighting each other,” said Psyche, rocking on the balls of his feet, “then that means they might injure each other, which is good.”

Seidou, Kaneki, Yato, and Izaya all verbally agreed. “Hopefully Kuroha will be hurt enough that we can beat him without too much damage on our end, huh?” smiled Seidou, trying to be confident.

Shintaro looked down. He still couldn’t get Konoha out of his head - the white-haired one he knew. Someone he’d even go so far as to call a ‘friend’… He had to be in there somewhere, right? There was no way he could let everyone just kill him off… but… How could he go about telling that to all of them, who were so set on killing him? Especially for Psyche, or even Roppi and Tsuki… They’d lost Delic after all, and it was because of the same person he was thinking of… Why did this all have to be so complicated? Ugh, he really wanted to just go home already. He sighed. Ironically, it seemed that the only one who understood best was one of the ones from Delic’s group: Kaneki. Well, life was ironic anyway…

“I wonder if we can succeed in this mission without any casualties,” Izaya remarked thoughtfully.

“We’re going to try our best for everyone to make it out alive,” Kaneki responded coolly, giving him a look.

Izaya shrugged. “What do you guys think?” he asked everyone. “I mean, it’s ironic enough that one of the players here is already dead…”

Yukine glared at the ground. Yato swiped at Izaya’s side, but he dodged. After pouting for a moment, Yato went with inhuman speed and swiped at his side again, this time making contact rather easily. Izaya staggered a bit. “Oh…that hurt.”

“Serves you right,” grumbled Yukine.

“Ass,” growled Shizuo.

“But my point is,” said Izaya, rubbing at his side, “that I wonder what happens to us after we die here. This is a whole other reality, with different religions and different rules… Now, I myself don’t believe in god – sorry, Yato.”

“It’s okay, sometimes I doubt certain things too,” sighed Yukine. “Like whether he’ll ever be able to save his money instead of spend it on stupid things.” He eyed Yato meaningfully.

“That was a very lucky pot!” the delivery god protested. “With that pot I will have good fortune for years to come!”

“It was a scam!” the Shinki cried.

“And considering the different times people come from, too,” Kaneki added, “it could be possible, then, to just reset the game or bring people back to life, couldn’t it?”

“That’s crazy…,” Seidou breathed.

“I wonder, then, what they do to the people who are already gone,” Izaya mused, looking upwards as one of the blurs plummeted downwards. They felt the ground tremor slightly beneath them.

“Bringing people back…,” Shintaro said quietly to himself. Like Ayano…

“Well,” said Psyche, “whatever they might do to the people who, um, aren’t around, they’d better not touch Deli. They’d better not.”

“What do ya think happens if ya die here, then, Izaya?” Shirazu questioned tentatively, brow furrowed.

Izaya merely shrugged. “Hard to say. I’ve never known what to think, and to be honest, if there’s anything I do believe it’s that I don’t have anything like a ‘soul.’ So in the end, I guess it doesn’t really matter to me.”

Shizuo gave an irate grunt. “Izaya.”

“Hoh? Yes, Shizu-chan?” Izaya smiled widely at him.

The ex-bartender’s eye twitched at the nickname. “Cut the shit, even if you’ve fooled yourself too. You’ve got a soul no matter how much of an asshole you are. You’re a human too. Maybe ya don’t act like it, but you’re a human. You’ve got a soul, somewhere. It’s just really, really, really fucking deep down in there.”

Izaya blinked at him, comically surprised. Then he laughed. “Is that supposed to be a compliment? Did he just compliment me? That’s amazing! I’m touched! Or rather…” He grinned at him. “I might have taken it more seriously if it weren’t coming from a non-human monster such as yourself, Shizu-chan.

His mouth twitched. “Fuck. You.” He clenched and unclenched his fists. He had nothing to break. Nothing to squash with his shoe. All he could do was say, “You really piss me off… No matter what I do, you’re still egging me on. When we get back home, I’m gonna kill you!”

“Guys, please,” said Yukine in a pained voice, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“No, this flea’s the worst of assholes!” shouted Shizuo. “He won’t shut up, he’s always provoking me, and he enjoys fucking with people! In a bad way! It’s ridiculous! I want to kill him right now!”

“It’s hard to hold back all that monstrous anger, huh, Shizu-chan?” Izaya taunted, earning another growl.

“I swear to god Izaya; I’m gonna…!”

“I think,” said Kaneki, holding up his hand and stepping between them, “it’s the only thing Izaya knows how to do.” He looked at Izaya with cold eyes. Izaya frowned at him in turn. Shizuo blinked, no longer feeling the need to destroy anything. “Izaya, I know you’re the puppeteer type. Stop trying to toy with us. Maybe Shizuo has difficulties catching you, but unlike him, I really am a monster.” On cue, he cracked the knuckle of his index finger. His voice got lower. “I’ll serve what’s coming to you. I won’t kill you, of course, but you won’t want to play tag with me. Do you understand, Izaya Orihara?”

Seidou had backed off, severely uncomfortable. Was he really a good guy, this Kaneki kid…? Or was he the monster he claimed to be? Suddenly he couldn’t tell. Even Shirazu was a little put off, reminded eerily of when he’d gone kakuja as he was fighting Kuroha. He hoped he wouldn’t do that this time around. Come to think of it, he also acted like that in a battle with a ghoul called Serpent, as Haise. He even did the finger-crack-thing! He was totally Sassan. Suddenly this was less creepy and more badass.

Izaya only looked at him, then gave a slightly more tentative laugh. He held up his hands, smooth about the whole thing. “Fine, fine, no need to resort to violence. I hate that, you know. Violence, I mean.”

Shizuo’s eye twitched again.

“You’re right, by the way,” Izaya smiled cruelly at Kaneki. “You are quite the monster.”

“I already knew that,” Kaneki said dismissively, and began again on their trek. He did not wait or look behind to see if everyone else followed. Eventually, they all recognized the cue and continued on their way.


 

“Sorry I’m late,” said a bespectacled one as they entered the room. They glanced at their pocket watch. “Yeah, close enough. Things got a little…yeah, with the demons fighting.”

“Rodd!” cried Muse, grinning wide.

“Hi, Rodd,” smiled Seraph, while Durden gave a “’Sup?”

“Not much,” shrugged the bespectacled one named Rodd. “But I brought Cola.” As they said this, they slid their backpack from their shoulders and began unzipping it.

“Sweet,” beamed Seraph, anticipation glimmering in their violet eyes. Both they and Muse reached for a bottle of the holy drink: Coca-Cola. “Shintaro would be so proud,” sighed Seraph, satisfied.

“This is fantastic,” said Muse, grinning at the Cola, and then at the screen. “We’re having some fun… Even though there are a lot of weird alliances…we’ve got them plotting to kill Kuroha. Now that’ll be fun. Cheers to that!” They and Seraph tapped their bottles together and drank the soda.

“Do you want any?” Rodd inquired of Durden, but Durden lifted their black mug in response.

“Nah, I’ve got coffee, and that’s all I need.” They smiled a friendly, lopsided smile. “Thank you, though.”

Rodd nodded. They were the quiet type. After checking their pocket watch again, they adjusted the rim of their hat before addressing Muse: “Muse, what exactly did you do to Kuroha, by the way?”

“Ah, not much,” they shrugged. “All I did was solidify Konoha’s sense of self again.”

Rodd drew their lips into a thin line.

“You’re horrible,” said Seraph, shaking their head.

“How so?” Muse smiled in return.

“You almost got Konoha killed!”

“Eh, the fight would have gone on forever if I didn’t, you know…”

“You are putting hope in all the wrong places,” they huffed. “This’ll make for some terrible feelings - you know that, right?”

“Hm…maybe.”

Seraph could only sigh while Durden laughed in the background, Muse ever grinning. Rodd gave a slight smile themselves, putting their hands in their pockets.

Notes:

There seems to be quite a few monsters on this game field, in fact. What a lovely time, no?

Chapter 17: Falling Stars

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“I told you we should have brought blankets,” mumbled Yukiteru, pulling his hat further down on his head.

“Mm, it’s not that cold, right, A-ya?” said C-ta.

A-ya shrugged.

Group 3 and Group 4 had split off for the night. Ciel had decided that the plan would be that though each group would sleep in the woods, they’d sleep in separate clearings for security reasons. In other words, ‘we probably won’t hurt you and you definitely can’t hurt us.’ Though slightly annoyed by the way Ciel had gone about it, C-ta agreed with the idea. After the previous battle, he had become the voice of his group as a whole. A-ya had gone as mute as he usually was in ordinary situations back at home. Yukiteru seemed a bit bothered by the whole thing, but didn’t comment on it.

Now the three of Group 3 were settling themselves down in a clearing within range of Sebastian’s sights. The demon didn’t have to sleep, and on Ciel’s orders he would watch over both clearings for any intruders, stopping any and all of them. As the sky grew darker and the bright moon began to rise, Yukiteru wondered if the runners of this game would send off a firework for Keiichi. He wondered if anyone else in the game had even died. Amazingly, even in the fight between their groups and the other demon’s group, no one had been killed. The fact that two of the three in that group didn’t really care to fight seemed to help. Sighing, Yukiteru closed his eyes and rolled onto his side. He doubted that A-ya would speak up tonight. A lot had happened today… Keiichi had been killed in front of them after he’d tried to kill A-ya. Yukiteru still couldn’t get Keiichi’s glazed eyes out of his head… Though the eyes that haunted him worse were the eyes of C-ta, so calm and warm immediately after doing something so cold-blooded… And then soon after that A-ya had gotten one of the most powerful groups to make an alliance with them. Later in the afternoon, there was that huge fight. After nothing happening the first two days of the game, this was pretty insane, at least for Yukiteru. He could only imagine how A-ya felt.

He rolled onto his back. Not only was he uncomfortable, he was just so restless. He didn’t think he would sleep much tonight. He was ironically too tired to sleep. He worried about A-ya. With those dark bags under his eyes, anyone could tell that he didn’t sleep much anyway. Not to mention Yukiteru knew that A-ya was probably beating himself up for not doing anything in that fight back there…

“…Hey, A-ya?” It was the first time he’d directly addressed him to start up a conversation this late. He could make out both A-ya and C-ta in the moonlight - the moon was almost full. Both of them were still as stone.

A-ya stirred, much to Yukiteru’s relief. “Sebastian…is a crow demon,” A-ya said slowly.

“Yeah… What about it?” Yukiteru inquired.

“Did you know… there’s a legend, ah… There’s a legend about how crows are the things that carry your soul to the afterlife.”

“Really?” Although he was happy that A-ya was going right back to those legends he liked, Yukiteru found that kind of eerie. Didn’t that imply going to hell, then, if Sebastian was a demon? That didn’t sound good at all.

“Yeah… I’m sure there are different ideas in his realm…but the crow is often a symbol of death. But they say…that if a soul is too heavy with regrets, the crow can’t carry it. It falls back to earth, and walks the mortal world as a lost spirit, trying to right the wrongs it can’t let go of. If they’re lucky, the soul falls back in the body and they wake up.”

“Huh…” Yukiteru blinked. “A heavy soul…and that’s how ghosts happen. The out-of-body stuff too. Somehow, I kinda like that idea. I mean…not being a regretful spirit or anything, but…the concept is pretty cool.”

“Yeah…” A pause. “I, didn’t do much earlier.”

Yukiteru frowned at him through the dark. “A-ya… It was you who managed to cheer me up in the middle of the night even though we’re in such a crazy situation as this… Don’t even get me started on how amazing and awesome it was when you were first talking to Sebastian’s group… You saved our lives, there, y’know? C-ta’s wrong… you’re not helpless. You’re really cool… I consider myself a coward and a loser, but… but you know what? If all of us were in a play, then you’re your life’s leading part, just like I’m mine. So…we’ve gotta walk with confidence!”

“Yukiteru,” said A-ya, and it was then Yukiteru realized it was the first time he’d said his name. It made him kinda happy that he’d said it, as odd as that was. “With the way this game’s set up…we might be doomed no matter what. Even if we have an epiphany like how we don’t need to participate in the game… do you really think that everyone involved will listen? In that fight today, there were still a lot of injuries… Look at what happened with Keiichi… And…well, humans or ghouls or whatever else is out there… maybe even the demons… they’ll just fall to the same ends. More people will die. Everything will keep repeating itself and that voice will get exactly what it wants…”

“But A-ya…” Yukiteru’s brow was furrowed. “Don’t you remember? We talked to the Voice earlier - if we find them, then we can end the game! If we last just that long, it will be okay! We’ve just gotta find them…”

“Are they even in the playing field? I mean, if they were…” A-ya seemed to start thinking deeply. This made Yukiteru happy – that means he might not be mulling anymore. “If they were, I’d say they’re either high up in the city, or down low… like… below. That’d be the most logical place… I think.”

“As in below the ground?” asked Yukiteru, and A-ya nodded in the moonlight.

“Yeah. But how we’ll be able to find either place, I have no idea…”

Yukiteru sighed. “Yeah… but… but it’s a start!”

“It is,” A-ya agreed.

At some point Yukiteru suggested they sleep, and A-ya quietly agreed before Yukiteru began nodding off. A-ya would close his eyes, though he still couldn’t sleep for the life of him. C-ta’s eyes, on the other hand, were wide open.

When C-ta and A-ya were little, A-ya had been very adorable. They’d play house together, and hide-and-go-seek. Hide-and-seek was one of their favorites - A-ya’s lungs were weak, though, so whenever A-ya would hide anywhere dusty, like a closet, he’d start coughing. C-ta never did tell A-ya why it was he could find him so easily back then. When they grew older, however, and middle school came along, that was when A-ya became pessimistic. You know…he started wearing darker clothes, he slept less and less, and he looked at life as the ultimate bore. He hated the mundane and craved something more. That was around the time he got into the occult, and C-ta of course just went right along with him because it made A-ya happy. If anyone were to look at A-ya, they would describe him as someone ‘pessimistic’… Of course he was doubting the success of his group in this game. C-ta understood.

And yet, something like Yukiteru’s assurances struck something terrible through C-ta’s chest. Was it fear?

When they were little, A-ya didn’t know how to speak for himself. Everyone disliked him. It was C-ta that changed that. C-ta had always looked out for him. A-ya was the child that nobody understood, and C-ta was the only one who could understand him. He became his voice. He was his voice. To this day, A-ya still needed him…right? A-ya still relied on him, right?

It was still C-ta who understood him, wasn’t it?

Wasn’t it?

And now there was this Yukiteru person, claiming that he understood A-ya. Saying that he could help A-ya…when really C-ta knew that Yukiteru was just as helpless as A-ya was. No, Yukiteru was just a threat to A-ya. They were getting too close, too fast. At this rate Yukiteru would break the poor A-ya that rightfully belonged to C-ta. A-ya was C-ta’s to take care of, and no one understood A-ya better than C-ta did. For Yukiteru to make false claims like that…and for A-ya to believe them… Well, that was only something to hurt A-ya in the end. And for Yukiteru to do that, well… hurting A-ya was unforgivable.

It was as these thoughts spiraled in his head that Yukiteru murmured, so soft that C-ta could barely hear with his back to them, “Say, A-ya… Please, please, be careful of C-ta. Something’s definitely wrong there… I know it, because… well, you might be asleep anyway… So… I’ll have to tell you some other time…” C-ta heard Yukiteru sigh. “I hope everything will be okay…”

C-ta saw only red. This person was trying to turn A-ya against him, on top of all of that? He should have gotten rid of Yukiteru far sooner…

Yukiteru was nodding off for good now, feeling the world slip away. He was finally ready to go to sleep. Maybe he’d have a fitful rest, but after such a long day he was definitely exhausted. Giving one final, drawn-out yawn, Yukiteru curled up on the grass and fell into slumber. The last things he heard were a few subtle clicks nearby.

Click… click… click…

Darkness. Rest. He was too tired to wonder about what those sounds were. Here, in sleep, there were no worries. He and A-ya could be friends, there were no battle royals to worry about… A-ya would introduce him to his mother, and he would try his mom’s hamburger steaks. Afterwards, he’d of course have to show A-ya his own mother’s hamburger steaks, and then after a debate about whose were better, they’d decide that both made them really well. And maybe they could even go to the planetarium together… Or A-ya would drag him off to a haunted house… They’d go on adventures together. Nothing to worry about. Everything was al—

Jerked from slumber, Yukiteru was forcibly rolled onto his back, a hand over his mouth and nose. He saw C-ta’s face above him, eyes burning with rage and something that reminded him scarily of what Keiichi had looked like when he was about to make an attempt on A-ya’s life. Panicked, Yukiteru struggled with all his might, trying to find his darts. “I know what it was you were trying to do…,” hissed C-ta, green eyes manic. “Don’t you worry, I’ll protect A-ya, and he and I’ll get out of this alive. A-ya and I… We’ll make it out, together. I’ll make sure of it. He doesn’t need you…”

Realizing his darts were nowhere to be found, Yukiteru’s hands were on the arm of the hand holding his mouth and nose. He pried it off, gasping for air. His blue eyes shone with a purer anger. “He doesn’t ‘need’ you, either, C-ta! He can stand on his own! I can stand on my own! Can’t you see he can do just fine without your help?!”

C-ta froze. He wasn’t right. He wasn’t. He wasn’t. Was he? Gripping his box cutter tighter with his free hand, he raised it, ready to strike.

“Do you really think he’ll thank you for this?!” cried Yukiteru.

C-ta wasn’t listening anymore; all had gone red. The noise he heard was all static.

C-ta, stop!” A-ya pounced on him as the blade came down, slicing at Yukiteru’s cheek but otherwise leaving him unmarked. After C-ta had toppled over and A-ya had tumbled to the ground, C-ta grabbed at Yukiteru’s throat. A-ya grabbed at the back of C-ta’s collar to try and stop him, and C-ta brought all of them forward, slamming Yukiteru’s head into the tree before them. The world spinning, Yukiteru’s eyes rolled. He was alive but unconscious. A-ya spun C-ta around and grabbed his shoulders. “C-ta.” His voice was firm. “Snap out of it…!”

At A-ya’s serious face and imploring tone, C-ta gazed at his childhood friend. “Ah, Yukiteru… He was right.”

A-ya’s shoulders relaxed. Relief flooded him.

For C-ta, his head was spinning. Yeah, that was right. Wasn’t it the truth that A-ya had jumped to the conclusion not to fight anyone so early? Wasn’t it A-ya who had befriended Yukiteru so fast, when he was someone who couldn’t even speak for himself? Wasn’t it A-ya who had managed to speak so smoothly as to convince Group 4 to make an alliance with them? Wasn’t it A-ya who had just pounced on C-ta?

A-ya… his A-ya… His A-ya would never do any of those things, would he? For this A-ya to know so much about the game…to act so different… This couldn’t be the A-ya he knew. This couldn’t be his A-ya. The game had done all kinds of insane things already… Who was to say that the game couldn’t have placed a fake in among the contestants? C-ta knew A-ya better than anyone else… This A-ya, wasn’t his A-ya. It was the only thing that could make sense.

In turn, C-ta put his own hands on A-ya’s shoulders, gentle for a moment before he shoved his friend backwards and into a tree. A-ya gasped at the impact, having not expected this. “C-ta, what are you—?!”

“You thought you could trick me?” asked C-ta, smiling a broken smile, eyes glazed over with his delusions. “You can’t, ‘A-ya’…” C-ta had pinned him there, A-ya’s back to the wood, paralyzing him with fear.

A-ya could only stare at his best friend’s face in horror. What was he doing? He couldn’t be actually…

Terrified, A-ya’s red eyes flicked around for something, anything. Yukiteru was out cold in front of a tree, and his scissors…his scissors! They might be just within reach…!

Grinning madly, C-ta laughed, tears beginning to leak from his eyes. “It looks like I win!”

A-ya groped desperately for the scissors. The box cutter was raised. A-ya could feel his hand grasp the scissors just as the box cutter came down at full force. A-ya tried to swing the scissors in C-ta’s direction, eyes squeezed shut…

A-ya felt the blades of his scissors connect and sink into something not quite soft. The fingers closest to the blade felt something warm. He dared not release it. Fearfully, A-ya opened his eyes to C-ta, box cutter millimeters from A-ya’s chest. The scissors were embedded in the side of C-ta’s neck. Horror striking him, A-ya quickly jerked away and released the red handle; C-ta dropped the box cutter to the red-stained grass. One of his hands was to his neck. His eyes were calm and hazy - he looked sad. Tears were falling freely down his cheeks. A weak but warm smile touched his lips. “Ah…” His voice was faint. “A-ya… I guess this was how it would end. I should have known… I… understand now. I’m so… sorry, A-ya… You—win.” His voice trailed off, eyes dulling as he collapsed onto the slippery grass beneath him. A-ya continued to stare, unable to remove his eyes from him.

“…C-ta…?” A-ya shifted onto his knees, bringing himself forward. “C-ta…” His eyes stung. His face felt wet. “H…ey…” It felt as though the clearing was getting smaller and smaller. All else ceased to exist but this one moment. Before him lay his best friend, at his side since childhood. “Why…?” Everything was so red. C-ta wasn’t waking up. “Why?…” His voice broke. He felt the overwhelming need to vomit, and found himself heaving on his hands and knees. Wiping at his mouth almost blankly, he looked back at his friend, who had been there for him almost as long as he could remember. It was too late now, wasn’t it? There he lay, asleep in the moonlight and as red as the grass he rested upon, as red as the handle of the box cutter, as red as the handle of the scissors. As red as A-ya’s hands. If C-ta didn’t wake up, where was the meaning in all of this? Where was the purpose? Despair made A-ya’s insides hollow. Everything felt blurry. It all felt fake. He couldn’t process what he’d done.

He knelt there for some time, in a daze. “I…” His hands were gripping that same red handle. Pulling the blades out from where they had nestled in the neck of C-ta. “I’ve…” He couldn’t stop shaking. What had he done? Head bowed, A-ya received his enlightenment. There was only one true answer. In this red ringing silence, he’d found it… the truth.

There was only one true ending here.


 

Yukiteru arose from unconsciousness too late. The world dark and blurry, all he could make out was the color of crimson. Then, figures. C-ta was laying down, but A-ya… A-ya was…?

He tried to snap himself back into reality.

A-ya, don’t!” At least, that’s what he tried to say, but he couldn’t tell whether he’d gotten it out or not. He watched as A-ya used the scissors to slit his own throat, making more red, more red until he slumped, slowly falling to the side and at last collapsing.

Head pounding and world still spinning too fast on its axis, Yukiteru rushed over to him, stumbling and staggering the couple meters it took to get there. “A-ya… A-ya!” Yukiteru desperately shook at his shoulder, tears sprouting but not falling. He rolled over his friend only to find emptiness and more red. His eyes looked nowhere, mouth ever so slightly open. His face was tear-stained and blood-stained.

Yukiteru put a hand to his mouth, falling onto his behind and feeling ill. He pushed away the feeling, though the scent of death and the scent of blood and vomit didn’t help in the least. In a weaker voice, he called to C-ta. No response. He tried again. He didn’t want to look at C-ta’s face too, but tried anyway in case he might be alive after all. Nothing. Tear streaks, blood stains, a tired smile, and eyes that seemed to look at him even though they were well glazed over. Yukiteru could only collapse, sitting between them on the slippery red. “But… C-ta… A-ya…” He paused, lip trembling. How had it come to this so fast? “A-ya…!” Filled only with despairing grief, Yukiteru began to cry before hunching over in sobs that racked his body. Letting out a mournful wail to the stars above, he wept freely amongst the fallen.

Notes:

Aa, perhaps A-ya has achieved Insight after all. And so, Group 3 has successfully self-destructed.

Chapter 18: Sun Will Rise

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The groups in a three-way alliance settled in a two-story building, a café with housing on the top floor. The three groups worked together to figure out who could stay where. Shirazu had remarked it was a nice and homey place to stay, grinning warmly with his sharp teeth in a goofy kind of smile while Psyche ran around admiring all of the knick-knacks on the shelves. Yato went straight for the food while Shintaro stroked the sign on the door that said ‘free wi-fi’ before sighing heavily, knowing he had no device that could access it. Tsuki, trembling, looked at the menu, wishing severely for a cup of coffee. How had he gone without it for so long? Well, that explained his terrible headache the past two days… Yukine was just happy with the place because it had electricity, which meant he wouldn’t have to sleep in the dark again tonight.

Kaneki found himself smiling nostalgically at the place. It reminded him of the coffee shop he once worked at: Anteiku. It was a peaceful, ghoul-run coffee shop that provided food for the ghouls that couldn’t hunt, encouraging a pacifistic lifestyle. It kept the twentieth ward of Tokyo relatively free of ghoul-related crimes. It was the manager of Anteiku that had taken Kaneki in when he had first discovered he had become a half-ghoul. He cared deeply for everyone that worked there… Without them, well, he didn’t wish to know where he’d be now.

“What’s that look for?” asked Seidou, peering at him.

“It’s almost like a coffee shop I know,” Kaneki waved him off. “As you know, the only thing ghouls can enjoy normally is coffee… It makes me feel more at ease.”

Seidou drew his lips into a thin line. Right, of course. He looked uncomfortable again – it was becoming quite easy to forget he was a half-ghoul.

“Right!” yelped Psyche, poking his head up from behind the counter. “Kane-kun must be starved!”

Touching his chin, he smiled at Psyche and responded, “I’m fine, really. Although I could go for a good cup of coffee…”

“So could he,” said Roppi dully, jerking a thumb at Tsuki. “He lives off of the stuff.”

“Well, if you’d like… I could make some coffee for anyone who wants it,” the white-haired half-ghoul offered with a smile. “Though I’m perhaps not the best at making it, I did work at a coffee shop for some time…”

“Oh boy!” cried Psyche. “Can you make other fun drinks too, like strawberry milkshakes?”

“Psyche…,” frowned Shirazu, grabbing at Psyche’s hood before he leaned any further over the counter and flipped over it.

“What?”

“Hm, well, if the mixes are around, I’m sure I could figure it out…,” remarked Kaneki, looking around for other drink mixes.

“Is there…soda?” asked Shintaro, voice turning into a whisper in tentative hope.

“I think there might be in the fridge, if it’s on the menu,” Kaneki answered, looking inside. “Ah, yes, there’s soda in here.”

“Really?!” Shintaro ran to the counter with more enthusiasm than he had ever before expressed in front of anyone here. His group of Seidou, Roppi, and Tsuki all stared at him in astonishment or, in Roppi’s case, skepticism. Shintaro sank down, gripping the edge of the counter and poking his gaze over the top of it to look at Kaneki. “May soda be eternal,” he whispered under his breath.

“Are you alright with Pepsi products?” inquired Kaneki, lifting one from the fridge.

Shintaro collapsed onto the ground. “You’re kidding me…! Only Pepsi…?! This game did this to me on purpose! Torture! This is torture!” he wailed, and was silent, whimpering quietly on the ground. Roppi prodded him with his foot, unamused.

“Ah…” Kaneki gave a weak smile, scratching at his cheek. “Well, there’s also some Ramuné…”

Revived, he sat back up. “Is there peach flavor?”

“Looks like it.”

“I take that back,” he beamed, tears in his eyes. “I’m one happy NEET right now.”

And so, Kaneki served the other ten something to drink while they all helped themselves to dinner. Kaneki couldn’t eat any of it anyway, so it worked out, he supposed. Psyche got his strawberry milkshake, and Shizuo decided that he, too, wanted a milkshake. He asked for this treat with averted eyes and a cough. Shintaro had his peach soda, praising the drink with all his love while Roppi asked for an iced caramel latte (sweetened with three sugars). Yato, disappointed by the lack of alcohol, took some soda for himself while Yukine asked for a simple iced tea.

For the rest, Kaneki made coffee to the best of his ability - brewed on his own with much patience and care. Izaya, perplexed by all of his alter-selves liking sweets, preferred his coffee black and bitter. Roppi was openly disgusted by the drink at all, despite the fact his best friend Tsuki “lived off of it.”

Izaya, Tsuki, Seidou, and Shirazu all had coffee with Kaneki by the end, Seidou warning the others that they should all get a good night’s rest for the coming morning. Seidou then remarked that the coffee was amazingly made, and Izaya agreed that the coffee was admittedly delicious while Tsuki bobbed his head emphatically. Shirazu remarked it kinda tasted like the coffee at an amazing coffee shop called ‘:re,’ but Kaneki had never heard of it, nor had Seidou. Shirazu explained awkwardly that it was a newer coffee shop, and he sometimes forgot they were from the past. “No,” said Seidou plainly in answer, “you’re from the future.”

Things wound down, and people began going to bed. Whether they’d be able to sleep or not was debatable. Before Shirazu went up to be done for the night, however, he went to Seidou, putting his hand on his shoulder. “Yo, Seidou…”

Seidou looked at him, half-filled coffee mug still in his hands. “Mm? What is it, Shirazu?”

“Look… um, about earlier…” Shirazu’s eyes weren’t making contact. “Y’know, it was really pretty mean… I think ya should say you’re sorry ‘n stuff… Properly, to Shintaro. He’s your group member, y’know? And ya said he saved you guys before… So… I really think you should talk to him, or somethin’. Make it up to him. ‘Cause earlier…that was harsh.”

Seidou stared into his coffee. “…Yeah. I know. Thanks.”

Shirazu gave him a pat on the back. “Have a good night, man,” he said, and headed up the stairs.

Seidou sighed lightly, closing his eyes. He felt kinda crappy about the whole thing. He had snapped in the moment, and that was definitely the wrong thing to do… Make it up to him, huh? How could he…?

Almost everyone was in their respective rooms, some sharing, others alone. Psyche and Izaya were on the roof, having been put on first watch. The only one left downstairs was Kaneki, cleaning up the last of the dishes. Getting to his feet, Seidou wordlessly joined him behind the counter to help. Kaneki glanced at him. “You don’t need to help,” he said. Tsuki had actually attempted to help earlier, but after breaking two dishes in a row the poor klutz decided that perhaps it would be better if he just followed Roppi up the stairs.

Seidou merely shrugged at Kaneki’s words and continued to help out until every dish was finished.

“Thank you,” said Kaneki to Seidou, and Seidou nodded.

“Yeah… You heading up now?”

“I think I’ll have one more mug of coffee for myself before I retire,” Kaneki responded, and Seidou gave another nod.

“Alright. If I don’t see you until morning…rest well. Be ready for anything.”

Kaneki smiled a lopsided smile. “You do the same, Seidou.”

Seidou gave one last nod and a thanks before heading up the stairs and going to where Shintaro was resting. He rapped his knuckles gently on the door. No answer. Seidou drew his lips into a thin line. What if he was already asleep? He tried again, slightly louder. “Is…that my door?” came Shintaro’s voice, and Seidou sighed in relief.

“Yeah, it’s your door, Shintaro. It’s Seidou; can I come in?”

“Um, just a sec…” He heard shuffling, and then the sound of the door unlocking. Shintaro opened the door, brow furrowed in worry. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, I…”

“Is this about the soda earlier?”

“No—”

“It’s just that I really like Coca-Cola, okay?” he cried, and Seidou put up his hands as he tried to shush him.

Quiet, you’ll bother the ones trying to sleep… You’re not in trouble or anything, alright?”

Shintaro blinked at him, shoulders slumping as he relaxed, albeit now in a confused state. “…Oh. So why are you here, then?”

“I…wanted to talk.”

Shintaro could see that his group leader was distressed and uncomfortable, though he couldn’t imagine why. “Um…okay? Come in, I guess…” Seidou entered the room and sat down on a chair while Shintaro closed the door behind him. “Wh…what exactly did you want to talk to me about?” He was worried that perhaps it was going to be about Kuroha – or Konoha, for that matter.

Seidou shifted in his seat while Shintaro went to sit on the edge of his bed. “Um, I wanted to… Well, about earlier… I…” He stood up again and bowed to him. “I wanted to apologize for what I said.”

“Huh…?” Shintaro stared, then laughed nervously. “You don’t need to bow or anything. Do you mean about the whole school drop-out thing? Yeah, don’t worry, I get it…”

Seidou, frowning, sat down again. “No, what I said was way out of line. I didn’t need to say any of that to you… Someone who is so successful but doesn’t care about it… I… it just bothers me, that’s all…” He glared at the floorboards, brown eyes hard. He was festering on the inside with guilt, incompetence, and regret. Shame.

“No, but you’re right, really… I feel bad about it, too, though…” Shintaro’s grey eyes became hazy, looking somewhere far-off. “I dropped out because of something else… Ever since then, I’ve only been a burden to my family. My becoming a shut-in only made it worse for my single mother… In the end, it was my little sister who kept the family going, and even she hated me for some time after I closed that bedroom door… It definitely wasn’t a good choice, but I felt like it was something I deserved. Do you ever do that? You do something that’s stupid, just because you feel like it’s the result you deserve?… Throw your life away…just because you don’t feel like you’re worth it…”

“Shintaro,” Seidou cut in, “you’re worth so much more than you think you are. You’re amazingly smart… You really did save us in that first fight, and you risked your life when you did that… knowing you might die, but doing it for our sake. That’s something only a hero would do.” Shintaro stiffened. “Look, everything I said…it means nothing. You’re not one of those people – you really do care about others. I can see that. Maybe you’re a little bit clumsy about it, but you do care. And it’s that that counts… You just happen to have the intelligence to go along with it. Maybe for a minute you had me thinking you were like someone else I know, but… as awkward a person as you are, you’re just someone who has a lot of the qualities I wish I had…”

Shintaro stared at him incredulously. “Like what, my intelligence?”

“That, and your ability to still be a hero,” Seidou smiled. “You’re way more awkward than my true hero, but he’s a smart guy who’s the best at what he does, too.”

Shintaro, though touched, just shook his head and bowed it low. “Seidou… I don’t think you understand the kind of person I am… or who I was… Part of what you don’t like is that someone like me doesn’t have to try to get the amazing results…right?”

Seidou didn’t answer, averting his gaze, jaw tightening. When he tried so hard only to fall short, yeah, it kinda made him angry…

“Back when I was in school… yeah, I was the best at everything. I sucked at athletic stuff, but you know, whatever… Everything came so easy to me. And I know you’re mad at me for it… everyone else was, too… For all the other students, things were more difficult. They had to put effort into everything, whereas I just…didn’t. All I did was float; there was no reason to try at anything. There was no effort; there was nothing to care about. Everything became dull and grey… I was numb. When it comes so easy, there’s no such thing as ‘accomplishment’ or ‘success.’ There are no obstacles. There are no challenges. That red mark of 100 I got on every test… It was pointless to me because it was the same as every other time. I knew every answer just like I knew what grade would come next. It was always the same, a repetitive and pointless existence.”

Seidou tentatively looked at Shintaro, but Shintaro’s eyes were far-off again.

“In the end, everything being the same, day after day after day… I saw no purpose in even life. The dullness was asphyxiating. I wanted to disappear. There was no reason for me to continue. Because no one wanted anything to do with me, I rarely interacted. I shut myself out and no one tried to get in. Everyone, including me, preferred it that way. And then…” Shintaro paused before continuing. “…and then I was confronted with a problem I didn’t know how to solve. I had a classmate that tried to convince me how beautiful the world was, and how much meaning there was in life… It’s strange because Tsuki actually kinda reminds me of her…” He shook his head. “She…she tried to show me happiness, and yet…when I realized something was troubling her, all I could do was push that away, too. I pushed her away… That was the one problem I didn’t know how to solve and… and it was the only one that really mattered…” Shintaro lowered his face into his hands. “Seidou… None of that other stuff matters. It’s the people that matter. If you can just… take care of the people around you… If you can help people… that… that’s what it means to be a hero…” He looked at Seidou, eyes intense albeit shining with unshed tears. “That grade, that ranking, that whatever…they don’t matter. Those numbers mean nothing. Don’t measure your worth by ranking – please…”

The two stared at one another for some time, Shintaro’s gaze focused and Seidou’s gaze somehow shocked. Seidou thought of Akira, his rival. He wondered how much of this applied to her, too. He wondered how much he’d misinterpreted about her character. The harder he thought about it, the more he realized he’d never even looked her in the face. Lowering his head, Seidou began to laugh at himself.

Shintaro tilted his head, confused. “…Wh…what’s funny?…”

“I… well, it’s me, Shintaro,” Seidou answered, smiling ruefully. “I’m such a clown… Honestly… how stupid am I?” He put a hand to his face. “Amazing… I’m nothing but a huge contradiction… I get so mad, you know, thinking about all of the cruel people considered heroes just because of their marks. Mad because the people who don’t have to try are the ones that are respected… And yet I care so much about where I land on that scale… yeah, I probably always will, but at the same time… if I believe that it’s the feelings behind it that count, well… You’re absolutely right, too, Shintaro. Thank you…” Akira came to mind. “I think there’s someone else, too, I should probably apologize to… If I ever…get the chance, after this mess.” He sighed. “Shintaro, who you were in the past doesn’t matter, either.” Seidou’s chest was tight as he said these words. Wasn’t this also saying Akira could become someone amazing, too? Maybe she already was, and he was just too caught up in his own failures to see it… “You’re here now, and from what I can tell, you’ve come a long way. If you were so cold and uncaring back then…well, you had to have cared somewhere in there, otherwise you wouldn’t be this way right now. And right now…you do seem to care a lot about your team members and about a lot of other people, too. If you could learn to accept yourself and be happy with who you are, I think… I think that would make that girl happy, too.”

Shintaro bit his lip. He felt like he was going to cry anyway. He thought of his hero… the way she smiled… the shade of her hair… Every little detail came to mind. Would she, could she forgive him? Should she? Did he, Shintaro, really deserve that forgiveness?

“Seidou, I have something to talk to you about, too,” Shintaro said seriously.

Seidou blinked. Was he about to get a pep talk in return? Wouldn’t that just be kind of ridiculous? “Uh, yeah?”

“That guy, Kuroha… I’ve told you before that he’s not the bad one, it’s the demon that’s possessing him, or whatever… If I can just snap him out of it, then…”

Seidou was nodding. “I’ve been thinking about that myself. It’ll make it more dangerous, but if we just weaken him instead of killing him, you might be able to talk to him… If he’s weak enough for us to restrain, weak enough for his will to waver, then maybe you could get through to him, you know?”

“A…and you’ll tell the others about that?” Shintaro asked nervously. “You’ll make sure they don’t try to kill him right away?”

“I will,” Seidou confirmed.

Shintaro swallowed. If he could save Konoha, this friend of his…maybe he could feel like he might be a hero. Maybe he might be able to forgive himself. There was no way he was going to let another friend die on him.

“Don’t be so worried,” Seidou assured, getting up and putting a hand on Shintaro’s shoulder. Shintaro looked at him. “It’ll all work out. We’ll all do our best to succeed at our mission tomorrow. With two other groups on our side, and with your strategizing skills, I know we can win this.”

Looking at Seidou with concerned eyes, Shintaro straightened a bit. “Uh—yeah,” he said, giving an attempt at enthusiasm.

Seidou smiled at him and wished him a good night before leaving the room, closing the door gently behind him.


 

Yoh and Tsukiyama stayed awake in the house they’d chosen to rest in for the night. Kuroha was less enthusiastic to do a night ambush this time around, probably because of his injuries and that weird moment where he’d acted so different. Yoh couldn’t stop thinking about that warm, pink-colored eye. It looked so tired, beaten, and lost. It was the eye of someone who wished for someone else to help them, but who knew for a fact that they couldn’t be saved.

Sighing to himself, Yoh sat at the kitchen table. Whatever. There wasn’t anything he could do about it anyway… Right now his goal was just to make it out of this game alive – it didn’t matter who else lived or died, at this point.

Tsukiyama’s sights were set, of course, on protecting Kaneki at all costs… I mean, he belonged to the Gourmet, after all, n’est-ce pas?

Kuroha sat on the roof, as he didn’t need to sleep and could watch all night for any possible intruders. As he sat, yellow eyes glowing in the night, he felt the rising urge to choke again. Coughing up more blood into his hand, he wiped at his mouth with a bitter smirk. He’d have to pay that other demon back… Kuroha decided that it was high time to make some carnage. Next time he came across a group, there was no more playing gentle. It was time to go all out. If he kept playing nice, well, that would defeat the purpose of enjoying the tragedy, wouldn’t it? If that foolish vessel, the one he was possessing right now… if he had truly maintained a sense of self, then Kuroha would certainly have all the more fun when he slaughtered someone like that petty Recorder, Shintaro Kisaragi. That Centipede boy Ken Kaneki was one he wanted to torment, too… His soul was most certainly tragic, and he was someone Kuroha would consider a ‘monster’… He looked forward to another encounter with him…

Laughing quietly to himself, Kuroha kept his serpentine eyes peeled for any movement as the moon made its course through the sky.


 

There were yet again two fireworks to go off that night. Seidou listened to their muted pops from inside his respective room, sitting on the edge of the bed with his head bowed. He thought of the way they saw those demons fight from afar, merely blurs that went too fast for him to comprehend… He thought of the way Sebastian had shattered all the windows on the first morning of the game, the way he’d tossed Roppi’s body to the side as if it were nothing… The way he taunted Seidou, and the look in his eyes as his pupils became slits…

…Demons. They were going up against a literal demon tomorrow. He’d tried to reassure Shintaro, but in truth, he was terrified. If the most powerful ghoul, the One-Eyed Owl, was undefeatable even by the “grim reaper” of the CCG…could they really make it against an actual demon?

He thought of his mother and of his little sister. If he died here, none of them would have any idea what happened to him… There was no will or final testament – for all he knew, they’d just consider him missing, not knowing he was actually dead.

Long ago he had decided to join the CCG because he knew he could help people be safe in that profession. He could protect people, putting his life on the line to do so. Seidou was willing to do that. Even here, in this pointless game where none of these deaths were for the greater good… Even here he had people to protect, and if he could do just that, then risking his life was something that he was willing to do; something that was worth doing.

And yet, he couldn’t stop mulling over the idea as it hung over his head and crawled into his chest, constricting his lungs and gripping at his heart with cold hands.

I… I don’t want to die…

Bringing his knees to his chest and burying his face in his hands, he wept silently, pure fear intoxicating his being. In the darkness of the night, alone in that room, it was all that existed, and all, it seemed, that ever would.


 

Yukiteru knew what he had to do. It came to him in his shallow, black dreams that felt as though he were merely staring at the backs of his eyes. In this loss, there was only one thing he could do. He needed to continue on through this game, surviving up until the point that he could find the one running this. Then he would return home and become the victor of his own battle royal with the future diaries. And after he had eliminated every single one of the other contestants and emerged as the winner, he would become God, as was the reward for winning that game. Once he was God, he would bring back everyone he’d ever killed, and he would bring back A-ya. He’d bring back C-ta, too, and make sure that everything was clear in his head. He’d even bring back Keiichi, and he’d have that antidote ready for him, whatever it was for, and then he’d make sure he was okay, too. Then, as God, he and A-ya could exist happily together, and everything would turn out okay. It would be like this never even happened…

“…Yukiteru.”

He jerked awake from his shallow slumber, momentarily frantic. He was ready to stab with his darts. Judging by the lighting of the clearing, dawn was approaching. Yukiteru realized he was still propped up against the tree he’d collapsed in front of after looking at the bodies. At last he looked into the face of who had spoken his name. His heart thudded louder in his chest. How…?

Before him was A-ya, red eyes searching Yukiteru’s expression, scrutinizing the details. “Yukiteru. What happened?” he asked. Yukiteru realized A-ya’s hands were on his shoulders. His mouth opened and closed again. Nothing came out. “Do you have any idea…? I woke up covered in blood… C-ta, I think might’ve…” A-ya looked down, eyes dark and distant. “C-ta… I remember that, but…I must have passed out afterwards…”

Yukiteru tried to speak a few more times, mouth moving without sound. Then he jerked forward and hugged A-ya tight. A-ya stiffened at the unexpected gesture, unsure how to respond. Slowly, he hugged back. “I…I’m so glad you’re okay… A-ya…”

A-ya was no fool. He remembered the scissors at his throat; the overwhelming sense of despair sending him over the ledge and into the abyss. He felt so heavy. Perhaps the crow just couldn’t carry such a weight. A-ya had been cursed to remain here… or rather… he knew that it was the extra life granted by the special item, selected for him by C-ta. Even now, somehow, his protector since childhood was still the one who saved his life. How cruel was that?

With all this knowledge, he accepted the clasp that Yukiteru held him in and embraced him fully, grateful for at least the fact he wasn’t alone. It just hurt; it ached. He was so tired.

They held each other close in silence. The sun began to rise.


 

“Sebastian.” Ciel frowned, crossing his arms.

“What is it, Young Master?” smiled the demon butler.

“Your report for the night can’t just be ‘everything went alright, but some of Group 3 didn’t make it.’ It was my order to protect them from invaders.”

“Indeed, Young Master, and there were none to be seen. I saw no reason to save them from themselves.”

Eyes narrowed, Ciel huffed. “Well if that’s the case… whatever. Conflict of that sort is silly and should be disregarded. We don’t have time for such things.”

As he spoke, Yukiteru and A-ya reached their clearing through the underbrush.

“Oh, so C-ta’s dead. He gave off a rotten feeling anyway,” Ciel sniffed. Sebastian was eyeing A-ya with some level of intrigue. Shinichi frowned at all of them.

“Humans fighting amongst themselves, as well… That is something that I can at least understand,” said Migi. “I think that conflict is something unavoidable, no matter where one goes.”

Shinichi closed his eyes and sighed.

“Well…let’s not talk about it,” said Yukiteru. His blue eyes were more intense than they had been. He seemed more focused. “Let’s just get moving for today, okay? We’ve got a goal in mind now.”

Ciel smirked at him, pleased with his new determination. Sebastian raised his eyebrows skeptically, while Shinichi got up from his seat at the roots of a wide tree. “We need to find the one running this. I think we should head to the center of the playing field – it’s the most likely place, don’t you think?”

“I agree,” Sebastian smiled. “It would be the easiest place for total control over the area. Well then - it seems our destination lies to the east. Shall we?” There were sounds of agreement, and the six of them began on their way.


 

Izaya, Seidou, and Kaneki all stood in front of their cluster of groups - each of them represented their own respective groups of 1, 2, and 6. For the fight, everyone would be put into four teams. “Does everyone remember their roles?” asked Kaneki. “We’ll go over it one last time in case… Shirazu and Shizuo are with me on the close-range battlefront.  Us three will charge in after Yato and Yukine ambush Kuroha’s group together using Yato’s teleportation.”

“Yato-kun and Yukine-kun,” Izaya smiled, “you two are your own team. You’ll be joining up with Kaneki, Shirazu, and Shizu-chan after they come in.” Shizuo sighed heavily at the nickname. “You said, Yato-kun, that you could teleport easily to the Gourmet ghoul because you’ve battled him before and can locate his spirit energy, correct?”

Yato saluted. “Yes! I’ll teleport in with Yukine and catch them off-guard! Until the others join me there, I just need to distract them long enough for the second wave to be just as great a surprise while also luring them to where they need to be for this plan. While it’s just me, I’ll be doing my best to wound the demon. Right, Yukine?”

Yukine nodded in agreement.

“I, on the other hand, will be situated on higher ground, where I can strategize, give commands, and mess with the enemy’s head,” Izaya grinned. “Psyche will be with me, shooting at the enemy if they come too close.”

“Yep!” chirped Psyche, bouncing up and down.

“On the opposing side, my group will be situated,” said Seidou firmly. His voice was a bit taut. “We’ll also be based in long-range and in strategizing. Our strategies will come primarily from Shintaro, though I’ll be giving any orders he suggests. When need be, Tsuki will be my messenger to Izaya’s group, just as Psyche will be his messenger to mine.” Psyche grinned at Tsuki, and Tsuki smiled weakly in turn. “Roppi and I will be focusing primarily on long-range attacks.”

Roppi looked up, confused. “…Hah?”

Seidou smiled at him. “Last night, Kaneki went out on his own and found your machine gun.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “He’d heard you complaining about it, then went and found it for you.”

“Oh—I…”

Kaneki picked up said machine gun from the counter behind him and handed it to Roppi. “I already have it loaded up for you,” Kaneki explained to him. “It will be difficult reloading with a broken arm, so you may need to ask for help from one of the others when the time comes. It’ll be difficult to position at first, but once it’s situated right, you should do just fine.”

“I…er, thanks…,” Roppi mumbled, unsure how to express any form of gratitude. He wasn’t really used to people being nice. Well…except for Tsuki, but that was really it for him.

“Thank you, Kaneki,” Seidou sighed. “What a mess-up that battle was… Jeez.” He crossed his arms.

“But hey, we gotta be all positive about this one!” exclaimed Shirazu. “Let’s not talk about bad stuff.”

“Motivation!” Psyche cried in delight.

“Mm, yeah,” Seidou agreed, forcing a smile to his face. “And anyway… we’ve prepared some heavy objects for Tsuki to throw if he needs to.”

Tsuki nodded, a bit nervous on the matter.

“The goal,” said Seidou, “is to keep the target group at a diagonal from mine and Izaya’s groups. This way they’re always caught being fired at from two directions, and so long as they’re kept down there, our groups won’t be firing at each other. We need to remain in triangle formation. What we need to be careful of, too, is not hitting any of those on the battlefront.”

It was Kaneki’s turn to speak again. “There were shifts last night preparing the battle field, for those of you who don’t know. All that’s left is making sure the target group shows up there and, of course, carrying out the mission. The goal is not to kill, but to injure enough that we can control the situation.” He gave an inconspicuous glance to Shintaro to let him know that yes, his wishes in regards to Kuroha were being taken into consideration. “If things get too dangerous, however, and the best option is to kill, then that is the only option. It’s not my intention to lose anyone here today. If anyone is heavily injured, they are to go straight to Seidou’s group, as Tsuki is the one with the medical kit.”

“I do think that that’s all, so are there any questions?” asked Izaya, clapping his hands together and smiling a closed-eye smile. Though whispers rippled through the players, no one spoke up. “Well then! The meeting is done! We’ll head out soon!”

While everyone milled about, talking to the others about the coming battle, Kaneki approached the tense Seidou, calling his attention and gesturing to step to the side with him. “What is it, Kaneki?” the CCG officer asked, brow furrowed.

“Seidou…there’s something I’d like to ask of you.” Kaneki looked him in the eye.

Seidou was stiff. “…Yeah? Like what?”

“You’re a worthy officer, and I know you have the potential for great things… When I’m fighting the enemy, if I get out of control… I want you to shoot me down.” Well, that wasn’t what Seidou was expecting at all. He opened his mouth to respond, but Kaneki held up his hand to silence him. “I think I can trust you with that job. I don’t want anyone else knowing about it unless it comes to that.” The half-ghoul gave a warm smile. “It’s what I want you to do. I know it’s what’s best – there comes a point where I can’t control myself any longer… But…ah, will you agree to what I’ve asked?”

“I…” Conflicting emotions raged through Seidou’s mind and body. “I will,” he said, giving a curt nod. “Absolutely. Let’s try not to have it come to that though, alright, Kaneki?”

His hand went to his chin as his expression warmed. “Of course. I hope it doesn’t. For now… for now, I think I’ll speak to Shirazu and Psyche a bit to boost their confidence.”

With that dismissive remark, Kaneki left Seidou lost, reasoning and emotions alike battling in his head. For him to say something like that…could he truly be a monster? And how was it that he could ask something like that of him so calmly, knowing that if that were the case, it might mean Seidou’s ‘shooting him down’ meant killing him? Was he so willing to give his life for all of those around him? Did he feel fear?

The CCG officer sighed heavily. After becoming leader of his group, he hadn’t been complaining as often as he was used to… Probably because he was trying to better play the role of leader. It was what he had wanted, but… Well, not only did he feel infinitely worse about making a mistake, but he also really needed to vent to somebody. Breathing another sigh, he closed his eyes. He’d have to do that after this was all over. Maybe he’d vent to Kaneki. Was that normal? A CCG officer venting to an artificial half-ghoul? He didn’t know. Right now he didn’t want to think about it anyway.

Bracing himself for the day ahead, Seidou took a deep breath. Afraid or not, it was time to tame it. He had a group to be strong for, and people to protect. A home to return to, and someone to apologize to. A hero to make proud. Maybe he wasn’t fearless, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be brave.

No, in fact… isn’t that courage anyway? An earnest fire in his eyes, Seidou was ready to face whatever was to come.

Notes:

A turning point is upon us. How will things go?

Chapter 19: Convergence

Notes:

A large battle is at hand! Because these coming chapters span one big fight, I will be posting more frequently this week. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter Text

The three groups were buzzing with anticipation, the adrenaline already beginning to flow. Yato would occasionally confirm the target group’s location, eyes closed. He would teleport once they were closest to where they needed to be. If they started straying off-course, which they were bound to do eventually because luck simply wouldn’t win this battle, then that would be when Yato teleported off with Yukine. For now, he was concentrating hard – didn’t want to lose focus, now. Yukine stood next to him apprehensively.

For now, everyone was still clumped together. Seidou, Shirazu and Psyche had teamed up on Shintaro in an attempt to get him more enthusiastic about the battle. Shirazu was more assuring on the level of safety, telling him about how capable Kaneki was and how everyone was in this together. Psyche, on the other hand, used the logic of ‘don’t worry, we’ll win, and they’ll die!’ so in retrospect, Psyche didn’t help him very much. Seidou, of course, reminded him that the goal was to injure, not to kill. Sticking out his tongue, Psyche informed him that he knew that already, which only irked Seidou at the childishness of the response. Psyche then dragged not only Seidou but Shirazu down into a childish argument that turned out so downright silly that, after Seidou made a face that looked distinctly like he was pouting, Shintaro couldn’t help but start laughing. Seidou and Shirazu looked at one another while Psyche laughed with Shintaro, and then they, too, found themselves laughing. It relieved a lot of tension.

With that, Shintaro accepted the indirect encouragement, wondering how Roppi and Tsuki felt on the matter. At the moment, Roppi was having a blunt conversation with Shizuo. Though the ex-bartender was unnerved by how much Roppi looked like Izaya, he usually didn’t act like him, so Shizuo didn’t mind for now. Roppi had carefully positioned his machine gun ahead of time so he wouldn’t be behind once everything began. Tsuki stood close beside Roppi, fretting over the conditions and what might happen. As an anxious person, all he could think about was everything that could go wrong. He had no clue how it was that his base self, Shizuo, was so calm about it all. In fact, he seemed almost bored. After Shizuo forced himself to get over how much Tsuki looked like himself, he tried giving him a reassuring smile. Tsuki felt a little bit better after that, at least. Kaneki watched all the groups interact with one another, the ghost of a smile playing across his lips. He didn’t want anything to happen to any one of them.

Meanwhile, Izaya sat apart from the others at the top of his specified hill, watching everyone and listening to every conversation with a smirk twisting his features. Eventually he cast his cold gaze onto the open field before him, to the south. That was where the battle would be. Directly east, the woods began. This sure would be fun…

Getting up, Izaya stretched, catching the eye of his least favorite monster - that broken toy of his that he often wondered whether he should keep playing with or just throw in the trash. He flashed a cruel grin in Shizuo’s direction, but Shizuo merely shook his head and went to discuss something or another with Kaneki. A bit surprised, Izaya blinked before smiling again and chuckling to himself. Perhaps, Izaya admitted to himself, the largest reason that Shizuo bothered him so much was because he was unpredictable. Impossible to control. Ah, well…

It was then that Yato made the bark of, “Sekki!” and Yukine turned into his sword form in a flash. Everyone went dead silent. “It’s time,” Yato told everyone before disappearing in a flare of blue light.

Yato’s senses were focused on one thing and one thing only. He knew that he’d be dreadfully drained of his energy teleporting to where he needed to be – but it was his will and his intention to keep going long enough for Kaneki, Shirazu, and Shizuo to get to them. If he just led them on long enough, everything would be fine. As Yato and Yukine rematerialized in front of Tsukiyama, the element of surprise was evident. Lashing out immediately at the demon, Yato swung his Shinki at Kuroha, the speed taking the android off-guard. Kuroha blocked only to have some important muscles in his lower right arm severed. By the time Kuroha was gripping at his wound and hissing in severe irritation, Yoh and Tsukiyama were only stepping back in surprise.

“…Cute,” said Kuroha at last, and struck at Yato twice as fast – he was already slowing down from the energy drain. Yato just barely blocked with Yukine, the shockwave that burst forth afterwards knocked Yoh to the ground. Yato could hear Yukine yelp in pain.

Now, Yukine, Yato spoke to his Shinki telepathically, as he was in sword form. Anything I do, any blood I shed using your blade… It’s me who’s doing it. Not you, okay?

He could sense Yukine’s bewildered consent, and he and the android exchanged blows again. Yoh had braced himself this time and managed to remain on his feet. Tsukiyama attempted to half-protect Yoh with his arm pressed to Yoh’s chest, stabilizing him.

This might take some acting, Yato thought to himself, inwardly smiling. Kuroha slammed his arm into Yato’s side, and blood sprayed from his mouth at the impact. Seemed the wound in his gut from Tsukiyama hadn’t quite fully healed.

Kuroha was grinning. “I’m not playing easy anymore,” he said in the most menacing of tones.

Damn it,” Yato hissed, backing up. He made a show of fending off the demon while also looking as though he were trying to retreat, making sure he was breathing rather heavily so they could tell he was too weak to teleport.

“Where is the rest of your group, Monsieur?” Tsukiyama inquired of Yato, following along behind Kuroha along with Yoh, both of them knowing they’d be dead if they got in his way.

Yato didn’t answer, but Kuroha looked at his group members with a threatening grin that sent a tremor down their spines. “You two are sticking nearby. If you turn on me, you’re dead. And I’ll revel in the glory of your remains.”

Yoh swallowed, and the two continued on after him, keeping an eye out for anyone trying to ambush from behind.

Knowing that he couldn’t kill, Yato had it quite difficult fending off the demon. He knew that he couldn’t go all-out, and yet he kept dealing too weak of attacks – they weren’t doing anything! Even Yukine was getting physically exhausted in trading blows with the android, but if he could just hold out a little longer… A little longer…

“Yahoo!” cried Shirazu, airborne and coming down fast on the group – Shizuo had thrown him forward. Yato rolled out of the way as the partial-ghoul grinned wide, showing off his jagged teeth with one of his eyes going red, sclera grey. Something like pointed missiles exploded from his back, flying every which way and creating a smoke screen. After landing, he cracked his knuckle and grinned at the three. “Yo,” he greeted and went for Kuroha just as Kaneki emerged through the smoke, left eye red and sclera pure black, scaled kagune pointed directly at the android. “Don’t fuck with our friends!” Shirazu shouted as Tsukiyama yelped out a “Kaneki-kun?” in surprise.

Kuroha grabbed at Yoh’s collar, using him as a shield. “Gourmet,” he hissed. “Deceiver #2. You two…will fight. You understand.”

Blinded with an instinctive need to survive, Yoh came to life as he was tossed to the side by Kuroha. Shirazu lunged for him as Yoh tried to swipe at Kaneki with his crimson blade, but it was Shizuo who punched Yoh square in the face, sending him flying. “Fuck you! You tried to stab me last time, you piece of shit! That could kill somebody! You tryin’ to kill me?!”

Scrambling to his feet, Yoh prepared to fight the man dressed as a bartender, sword in hand.

“Y’know,” Shizuo growled, “if ya try to kill somebody… ya can’t blame ‘em if they kill you, instead!” At this, they fought; Yoh with speed and wit and Shizuo with brute force. It was annoying – his tactics kind of reminded him of a certain flea.

Shirazu went for the gourmet ghoul. “Look,” he said to Tsukiyama, “there ain’t no way I’m losin’ here. I dunno whether you’re for Kane-kun or not, but until I know for sure where ya stand and as long as we’ve gotta fight, I’m fighting for him! I’m fighting for Seidou, and Psyche, and all the others! I’m fighting for Delic, damn it!” At this blunt force of will, Tsukiyama had to say he was impressed. For a partial ghoul, he did smell good, but…

…But somehow those words struck him with something melancholic through his chest. Kaneki, yes, his Kaneki-kun was fighting on the side of these men, with all honor, and yet…  Well, Tsukiyama wasn’t a part of it, but what did that matter? Kaneki was his meal!

His thoughts turned on themselves. What was Kaneki thinking, fighting against a demon? Surely he was mad! Surely he knew that there was no chance of…! He couldn’t die; he had yet to be eaten!

“Kaneki-kun, be careful!” he cried, and was struck by Kuroha himself, causing him to stagger. The android was already back in battle, and the partial-ghoul Shirazu was already forcing him to focus on him instead.

“Whose side are you on?” Shirazu asked him, and continued to fight.

Frowning deeply, Tsukiyama flared his kagune out further in a boastful fashion. “I am for Kaneki-kun, for I am the dagger nestled underneath his pillow. He is someone I refuse to—!”

“Yeah, well ya shoulda thought that through when ya let Delic die!” Shirazu spat, lunging at him again.

Bothered, Tsukiyama glared with his ghoul eyes at the orange-haired boy. They struggled to best the other in their own battle.

Yato had already made it back over to Seidou, Shintaro, Roppi and Tsuki to take a quick rest. He needed to recover before jumping back in. Tsuki did his best to help, but there wasn’t much he could do. “It’s…much harder, when you’re not allowed to just kill them,” Yato remarked weakly, and Shintaro looked down, feeling guilty. He had to somehow get Konoha to snap out of this, but how…?

He looked up again only when Yato spoke up. “You ready, Yukine?” he said. Shintaro couldn’t tell whether they could communicate or not, but he guessed it didn’t matter. Then Yato was gone, sprinting forward faster than any human could go, clashing with Kuroha. Shintaro sat down at the gust of wind that came with it. Amazing. Real scary, too.

…He was totally in a video game.

Izaya was crouched on the other side, watching the battle from above. Well aware that he was out of range of any of the attacks, he knew how fast some of those people could be. His hand gripped the switchblade in his pocket rather tightly, though a smile still played across his features. They were ruthless down there. As expected, Psyche, Seidou, and Roppi rarely made a shot for fear of hitting one of their own teammates. There was a cue for all of those on the battlefront to dodge so that a scattering of shots could be made, but that was a signal to be used if they happened to be struggling or needed a few seconds to catch their breath. For now, Izaya could observe the fight as entertainment. That monster that he so loathed was fighting little Yoh Takami. In his head, he was remembering the three associations made with Yoh’s name on the page: sister, liar, money. Perhaps a thief or a pickpocket – it would certainly explain the prison attire. Maybe he was selling something even worse; he seemed the type to go about it. Maybe that was connected to his sister, maybe it wasn’t, but he knew for a fact that Yoh was going to fight with his all and do anything in his power to preserve his own life, all for the sake of that sister of his. Izaya’s cruel red-brown eyes shifted to the battle between Shirazu and Shuu Tsukiyama. Right now he was playing a game – could he remember them all? Analyze them all? Shirazu’s associations were guilt, Father, and stupidity. He didn’t have too much smarts, that was for sure, and he probably felt incapable because of it. Probably had daddy issues and blamed himself for that too. Cute.

Shuu Tsukiyama was also an interesting one. His terms were food, pride, and Kaneki. As if it weren’t obvious enough that Kaneki was a huge part of this gourmet’s life, it was clear to Izaya that this ghoul truly cared for the white-haired half-ghoul, whether he realized it or not. Izaya took pleasure in watching his battle with Shirazu, if only because he couldn’t help but laugh every single time Kuroha would get close to hurting Kaneki, Tsukiyama would get distracted and consequently get hurt by Shirazu – usually with a kick to the face.

It seemed that Yato and Kaneki were collaborating quite well against Kuroha. Kuroha’s terms… existence, Master, monster. It was quite the interesting battle going on between the three (four if you counted little Yukine). After all, the term monster was used in the terms describing Kaneki, and the term existence was used to describe Yato. Knowing both Yato and Kaneki…and knowing Yato very well, in fact, allowed Izaya to piece together Kuroha rather easily. If ever he had the chance to speak with Kuroha – if, for example, he began approaching Izaya and nothing was stopping him – he already knew exactly what he’d tell him.

Grinning wide with the cruel glee of a master puppeteer, Izaya watched the battle of monsters rage on below. This was entertainment, now!

Below him, Psyche watched with hollow, electrified pink eyes as the combatants continued to forge onward. He held his pink-hilted gun up with both hands, shooting every so often when he saw the chance to strike a blow at one of the three on the target team. His gaze got colder and colder. His heart had turned to ice, albeit probably pink ice.

Realizing he could deal no damage with this gun, he ensured it wasn’t yet cocked before pocketing it in the front of his not-really-white-anymore jacket. He watched Kuroha closely, just barely making out the moves he made. It seemed they were rather simple, actually, just insanely fast. As he watched, mind calculating methodically as it tried to process the scene before him, he pieced together the ways Kuroha moved. A lot of times, he’d just block rather than dodge, especially if it was a blow from Kaneki. Psyche came to notice that even if Kuroha had been hit and injured, he didn’t seem to care. On the other hand, there was only one area he’d dodge every time for, being extra careful of its protection. Eyes narrowing as he concentrated, Psyche scrutinized Kuroha’s movements to make sure what he thought he’d seen had been true.

The moment his idea was confirmed, he yipped out an aha! before going to skip over to Seidou’s side of the field, frolicking as though there weren’t a life-threatening battle going on in close proximity.

Those on that side looked at him as he approached. “Psyche?” asked Seidou. “What is it?”

Happily, Psyche snatched the machine gun from Roppi and prepared to shoot. “Hey—!” Roppi yelped protest. “What are you—?”

Psyche turned his head to look at Roppi with joy, a possessed smile twisting his mouth. “I know Kuro’s secret~” he sang, and aimed the gun.

“C-careful,” said Shintaro, going over to him. “Re…remember, we’re not supposed to…!”

“Don’t worry. I won’t hit Yatty or Kane-kun, Shizu-chan or Shira-chan. Oookay?”

“N-no, that’s not what I—!”

“Ready?”

“Give me my fucking machine gun,” growled Roppi.

“Don’t worry, I will wait until the right moment; I won’t shoot yet,” Psyche assured him.

“No, I’m pissed because you took my fucking weapon!”

“R-Roppi, calm down…” Tsuki had his hands up, trying to calm the others. “Ss-Psyche, I really don’t think you should… um…”

“Psyche,” Seidou said firmly. His voice was authoritative. “Remain on your own side.”

Psyche looked at him with his childish eyes, brow creased and lips pouty. “But…but Seidou, my gun doesn’t shoot as fast…! Roppi-san has a broken arm, I just wanna try this one thing…!”

Seidou was about to instruct him to leave again when Kaneki was slammed into the ground by the elbow of Kuroha, red spurting from the half-ghoul’s open mouth. He left an indentation in the ground. Moments after Kaneki had been grounded, Kuroha turned on Yato, about to crash down after him with sword in hand. The god and the demon collided again on land, Kaneki rolling over and choking on his own bodily fluids in his own personal crater in the earth. Vomiting up only more red, his body convulsed as he struggled to stand, only to kneel back down and hunch forward, his red-scaled kagune writhing around him.

Psyche’s voice went low. He became the darkest, stillest, coldest night. His tones seemed to cut through all sound, leaving only silence as he spoke. “Don’t hurt Kaneki,” he said simply; flatly. Roppi and Shintaro backed off.

The repetitive and endless sound of a machine gun firing began, echoing all around and succeeding in puncturing the chest of the android. Eyes narrowing further, Psyche began trying to aim further upwards, but giving the singer a cold look with his yellow eyes, Kuroha spiraled downwards and smashed the ground with his fist, shaking the earth and causing the ground itself to crumble. As the cracks raced out from the impact of his fist, everyone was thrown off-balance as the flat terrain was destroyed, becoming rugged and supremely uneven. All but Izaya fell over at the earthquake, as he was on higher ground. Even he staggered, however, and had to catch his crouching self with his hands. He smiled as he found himself on his knees. Impressive move. Well, this was interesting, at least.

Darkness emanating from Kuroha as he rose from the rubble, his grin stretched from ear to ear. “No more playing games,” he said, and was gone while most everyone else was still struggling to get to their feet. He next appeared before Psyche, easily taking the machine gun and bending it in half. Needless to say, Roppi was devastated.

“Psyche, get out of there!” Seidou yelled to him, trying to get himself out from between two large pieces of earth. He grabbed for his quinque, mind frantic with fear. Shintaro had momentarily fainted from the upheaval of the ground, and Roppi was hissing as he struggled to free his broken arm from a crack in the ground. Tsuki was frozen in panic, leg turned at an odd angle beneath him – he couldn’t run to help. For once, he looked rather pale.

Kuroha’s hand was already to Psyche’s throat, pressing down and prepared to strangle him. Psyche struggled for a moment before pulling his pink gun on him, pointing it to Kuroha’s forehead. Gun cocked, Kuroha released Psyche’s neck and knocked his arm to the side, causing the gun to go off in an odd direction, the bullet embedding itself in the dirt. One hand pressed on Psyche’s chest to the point of him being barely able to take a breath, Kuroha twisted the arm that had pointed the gun to his forehead, then yanked it off of Psyche’s torso. Gasping for air, Psyche cried out in pain. Kuroha did the same for the other arm. “I’m sure your home doesn’t need an idol who can’t even hold their mic…”

Psyche spat into his face. “Bastard.

You little brat,” snarled Kuroha and lifted him by the neck. “How do you feel about dying yourself, huh? It was inevitable, you know. Join your friend, why don’t you – your friends will come soon after!” Seidou called out to Psyche despairingly. Roppi and Tsuki stared in horror.

Pink eyes wide with fear, tears leaked out of the corners and trickled down Psyche’s reddening cheeks as he was strangled. “If, I die… where…will I…?

Kuroha snapped his neck, grin widening. He squeezed until he’d squashed his throat like an empty can, the red insides spraying him. Tossing Psyche to the side like a discarded plaything, he turned to Roppi and Tsuki. “Who’s next?” he asked, grotesque grin peeling across his face.

Shintaro, snapping back and looking around, stared at the situation in shock.

Or maybe,” said Kuroha, looking at Seidou, “you can have the next honor?”

Behind Kuroha, the battleground was slowly reviving itself. Yukine had reverted to human form, shaking Yato desperately to try and get him going again. Tsukiyama had made it back onto his feet, and was intending to go to see if Kaneki was alright when Shirazu made his comeback, albeit in a more stumbling manner. Yoh was still down, and Shizuo was trying to regain a sense of things, disoriented from the quake.

Kaneki was still spitting up blood, trembling as he fought his urges. He could feel his consciousness slipping. He could hear Seidou screaming Psyche’s name. He didn’t even have the power to look over and see whether he was alright, but judging by the sounds, something had gone wrong. Another in danger… Another he didn’t protect… That was… not…

As Kuroha stepped towards Roppi and Tsuki, it was Shintaro that jumped in front of them, arms spread wide. “Stop!” Somehow, he seemed calm. “To touch them, you’ve got to kill me first. Konoha… I know you’re in there. Do you remember? It’s me, Shintaro! I know you can overcome this; you just need… you just need to try!”

“Oh, give it up, petty Recorder,” Kuroha scoffed, lifting Psyche’s pink gun from the ground and cocking it. “Your friend’s gone.”

“I don’t believe it!” Shintaro answered firmly. “You’re my friend, Konoha. I won’t let you die on me.”

Kuroha took a step forward. “What, just like…” He halted in his steps, beginning to shake, if slightly. “…just…like…,” he bit out, struggling to speak. If this was a limitation, he was incredibly pissed with the runners of this game. “Shit…

Shintaro, Roppi, Tsuki, and Seidou all stared in shock. Was it actually working? One eye tearing up and beginning to weep, Kuroha got down on one knee, smiling bitterly at Shintaro. “Would you look at that… he stuck around; annoying little airhead that he is.”

Shintaro smiled at him, seeing a glimmer of hope. If he kept going, Konoha could come back! Determination coursed through him. There was a chance!

Kuroha pointed the gun at his own head with a click. “For the record,” he said coolly, “this is your friend’s kind gesture to you.” Shintaro’s smile dropped. Tilting his head with a crooked smile, hand trembling, Kuroha’s finger tightened around the trigger. Shintaro jumped forward to stop him, the trigger was pulled, and Shintaro toppled into the android as Yato dashed in and sliced the hand holding the gun clean off. The android gasped. The yellow eye was dull, the other glowing a soft pink. Brow creased, he wept, trembling.

Shintaro smiled at him, relieved even though he was practically on top of the guy that had just killed Psyche. “Konoha…? Is that really you?”

“I… think so, but everyone’s been calling me something else,” he answered shakily.

Stupidly happy, Shintaro began to laugh. Yato put his hands on his hips, grinning wide. He could feel Yukine’s release of tension. Having finally pulled himself from the rubble, Seidou held his quinque in a passive position, ready to fire at Kuroha in case but smiling nonetheless. Maybe this would work out after all, even if… Psyche…

And yet, if Kuroha could remain subdued like this, the fight could end, couldn’t it?

“A nice set-up you’ve got here. It would certainly be a shame if you lost your medic,” said a distinctly British voice, and all of their heads turned as Tsuki’s heart was quite literally ripped from his chest. Tsuki never saw it coming, red eyes glazed over and mouth slightly agape. As his body collapsed, Sebastian was revealed, shaking his hand to get off some of the residual blood. It spattered onto the dirt and stones below. “Now then,” he smiled, opening his glowing red eyes, “am I invited to the party? If I may…” – he bowed – “shall we dance?

Chapter 20: I Am

Chapter Text

Sebastian and Shinichi had heard the fighting and the gunshots before the others, and with a quick discussion with Migi and Ciel they unanimously decided that they would go towards the noise. Yukiteru and A-ya wanted to avoid it, but hey, I guess they just had to go along for the ride. They were still northwest of the battle, but they kept straight east and ended up just north of where the other groups were fighting, able to take refuge in the woods. Ciel was squinting at the groups south of them, trying to make out who was involved. The single hill made it difficult to see most of the battle from their angle.

“I sense two strong energies,” Migi informed the others, and Sebastian nodded.

“That ridiculous Serpent is certainly involved,” the butler agreed bitterly.

“Though there’s more than just his group,” Shinichi pointed out, gazing at the throng of fighters.

“Mm, it may seem that every other group is involved,” Sebastian remarked, touching his chin thoughtfully.

“Really?” asked Yukiteru, appalled.

“I could be wrong,” Sebastian shrugged.

Ciel’s eyebrow(s) shot up. “Sebastian, wrong about that? Ridiculous.”

“I… well…” Yukiteru hushed up, embarrassed. A-ya simply didn’t speak up at all.

“In any case,” Ciel smirked, “if every group is there, it seems we have a group to demolish, right, Sebastian?”

Sebastian blinked, then smiled in recognition. “Ah, yes. Group 2, I do believe… We did say we would get rid of them next time we ran across them, did we not?”

“We did,” said Migi. “Shinichi, you did agree, so I wouldn’t suggest making that troubled face.” Shinichi sighed. “However, I wish to refrain from fighting this round – there is too much risk over there, and I think not fighting is preferable to me.” Migi eyed his host with his single eye. Shinichi didn’t seem to notice.

“As it so happens,” Sebastian smiled, “I do still have a command to kill that other demon…”

“Um…” Everyone looked at Yukiteru as he spoke. The fourteen-year-old swallowed. “Uh, don’t you think we should just stay out of this fight?”

“There are things I have left to finish,” Sebastian answered coolly.

“Sebastian,” said Ciel with a huff, crossing his arms. “Here is my order for this battle: Kill methodically. The most important background members should killed first, because once you’re fighting the demon or whoever else Migi sensed, you’ll be rather occupied, don’t you think? And then those members will be quite troublesome…” He made that sly smirk again. “Take down the healers… the commanders. Any background leaders. Understand, Sebastian?”

Putting a hand to his chest, the demon butler bowed. “Yes, my lord.” The demon left via the woods to watch the groups and get a sense of who to dispose of.

Shinichi watched with slightly narrowed eyes, gaze cold. The reason he’d wanted to come along was for the chance to save somebody, but it seemed the decision had led to the opposite of his intentions.

“…Shinichi,” said Migi quietly, snapping him out of his thoughts. He gave a neutral grunt of acknowledgment. “I know your wishes. I still do not understand the concept of altruistic behavior; however… if there is something you need to do, I will aid you. If it becomes too much of a risk of self-harm, I will have to stop you, but until that time…I am on your side.”

Shinichi blinked at Migi, a bit surprised. He smiled a bit at the parasite. As strange as it was, with all he’d been through, Migi had become the one closest to him… How messed was that? His best friend was his right hand. “Thanks, Migi.”

“There is no need for thank you’s,” Migi answered dismissively. “I am simply offended by the fact that Sebastian used the term parasite as an insult when addressing Kuroha.”

Shinichi chuckled. “That was pretty mean,” he admitted.

“Yes, I do believe that is the correct term.”

Shaking his head, Shinichi thought of what needed to be done while Sebastian made his proud appearance. We all go on.


 

“To you, Serpent…” said the butler after Tsuki had fallen, “…I must say that you make for a terrible demon. Where is your honor?” Then, just as quickly as he had appeared Sebastian was gone again. Yato grabbed the hilt of the sword named Yukine, disappearing moments afterwards.

Low laughter stopped the others from trying to find where they’d gone. “Honor?” asked Kuroha, eyes glowing yellow again.

“Kono—!” Shintaro was cut off as the android lifted him, rising from his sitting position and gripping the collar of his red jacket. The NEET grabbed at the arm holding him, legs flailing and expression in a grimace. “Konoha… I know…!”

“Konoha won’t last long, fool!” spat the snake. “He can’t overcome me – you should have let him kill himself when he had the chance! Just like a certain someone you used to know…hah?” Shintaro stiffened in his grip. “What was her name; that petty fool in the red scarf?” He laughed. “Yeah, wasn’t it you who thought it was all your fault she killed herself? How rich! How stupid! Yes, keep blaming your pitiful self.” His grin stretched across his features. “Humans love so foolishly, even if they know they’ll lose them. No matter how many times over this happens, humans never learn. Honor? What need have I for that? So long as I fulfill the wishes I’m existing for, there’s no other rules I need to follow! Me, I bring to you the end – the stopping point of love and of ego! Beyond me, there is nothing else to exist! All of your petty lives; your hopes, your dreams, your bonds, your desires – they’re all inconsequential to me! It doesn’t matter! And in the scheme of things… it really doesn’t, you know.” He brought Shintaro in closer, and he tried to pull away to no avail. “You’re all going to die anyway.

A crystal shard whizzed by Kuroha’s head, slicing his ear in half. Kuroha looked at Seidou, who had finally freed himself from his frozen fear, eyes alight with determination. “Put him down! Whether they matter to you or not, they are our beliefs, and our ambitions! They won’t go to waste!” He shot at Kuroha’s arm, breaking the splint that held it together. The arm splintered again under the weight of another being, and Shintaro fell to the ground, hopeless. His grey eyes were somewhere far away. There was nothing left. Roppi was kneeling on the ground, hunched forward in despair. Tsuki was dead. That clumsy, awkward, scarf-wearing…

He was a lot like her, Shintaro thought to himself, feeling even worse. Yet again, I’ve…

When no one stood with Seidou, the officer began to tremble. Kuroha looked at him, eyes narrowed. Anger burned in those yellow orbs. Seidou pointed his gun, shaking, and Kuroha smiled, amused. “What was that?” Kuroha inquired. It sounded more like a threat. Behind the demon, Seidou could vaguely see Kaneki’s kagune darkening and hardening as he became more insectile. Eyepatch was turning into Centipede, and if that happened, then…

No… The officer tasted salt on his tongue. No… Was he crying? Fright puncturing through the core of Seidou’s heart, he stood tall. “They… N… no matter….” C’mon, Seidou… Bracing himself, he found his voice. “No matter who you kill, their deaths won’t be in vain! If nothing mattered, we wouldn’t keep fighting!”

“You know, your friends aren’t—”

I am an Investigator!” Seidou bellowed, cocking his quinque, eyes on fire as the tears streamed. “I became that to protect people like them! So SHUT UP and go back to Hell where you belong!”

That being said, Seidou shot. The fight between him and Kuroha began.

Tsukiyama, seeing Kaneki in distress, tried to run for him again, only to be halted by Shirazu. “Dude! You’re not getting past me…”

“I am severely offended by a fool such as yourself,” Tsukiyama hissed, striking at him.

Shirazu jumped in the air and laughed, trying to kick the gourmet in face. “You’re not gettin’ rid of me, scumbag ghoul! I ain’t done yet!~”

In all reality Shirazu was too afraid to look over to Kaneki or Psyche. He knew something had gone wrong; he could tell by the screams and by the way that Shizuo kept looking over with a really bothered expression. All he could do for now was refrain from turning his head. The best he could do at this point was keep the Gourmet from joining in.

Shizuo watched the scene unfold, mouth drawn into a thin line. Things were already starting to go wrong the moment that Kuroha had jumped over there. No, the moment Kuroha had caused a fucking earthquake and pretty much ruined everything. What’s more, now that butler guy was around… This wasn’t going to be a good time. How frustrating… And already, people had died.

Shizuo was angry, so angry about the whole thing. He was furious. He was mad at the game, he was made at the assholes who made it, and he was mad at those fucking demons and everyone else that was actually buying into this shit and killing people. Oh, and he was mad at Izaya, but that’s just because Izaya was Izaya.

Shizuo looked over at Yoh, who he’d smacked around pretty well. His own blood was all over the ground, but he didn’t really feel it so for now he didn’t care. I need a band-aid or something… He sighed heavily. Shirazu and the obnoxious gourmet were fighting fine over to Shizuo’s right, and before him, in the sky, the butler and Yato were fighting and making those weird gusts of wind as they went. This whole thing was insane – he felt like he was in one of those anime shows that Erika and Walker always rambled about.

Looking at that maggot Izaya alone on the hill, Shizuo realized there was another problem: Psyche was no longer protecting Izaya if he wasn’t around anymore… Gods and demons and who knows what else were fighting all over the place – Shizuo knew that Izaya could dodge pretty well, but when it came to demons he didn’t think the informant could react that fast. Could he?

He’s only a human, Shizuo reminded himself, heaving another sigh and pinching the bridge of his nose. As much as Izaya denied being human and as much as he fucked with people’s heads… As much as he pissed Shizuo off, he was still a human. And no matter what Izaya said to him and no matter what he himself believed, Shizuo didn’t want anybody else to die. Not even fleas. Well… human fleas. Cussing aloud and unable to believe what he was about to do, Shizuo kicked Yoh irately one more time before skirting around Shirazu and Tsukiyama to reach the hill.

Izaya watched the scene with growing apprehension. The switchblade was out, and the informant was distractedly twirling it around with his fingers. Was he afraid? Perhaps. He still had a biological predisposition to fear, didn’t he? He cooled down the mind, eyes chilling. Calculation. Just keep track of everything going on – that way he wouldn’t be caught off-guard, right? Even though there were some insanely fast fighters right now…

Though Izaya had the belief that he was no human in terms of souls, he was distinctly aware of his very human, very mortal body. And if he believed that he had no soul, no religion could possibly matter to him even if he did believe in a god… So… where could he possibly go? Would he merely disappear?

Izaya knew that if there were anything that he was afraid of, it would be death. In all honesty, he’d rather go to Hell and know that he had existed than to cease to exist altogether. Chuckling bitterly to himself, he couldn’t help but think of Yato and Kuroha. Existence, huh…? Both of them feared ceasing to be. Izaya supposed it didn’t have to be a uniquely human fear after all. He laughed a bit more. To think, even demons, even gods feared an ending of their own existence… How… how terrifying.

As he watched Sebastian come out of nowhere and kill off Tsuki in one hit, Izaya knew that everything would be askew from here. The plan had already been ruined when Kuroha had shook the earth with his android fist, but now that another demon was around and he’d made it very clear he wasn’t on their side… well, this was about to get a lot more complicated.

After Sebastian disappeared, Izaya unknowingly stiffened. It wasn’t until he saw the butler fighting Yato slightly north that he relaxed and realized that he had been tense in the first place. “How ridiculous… getting all rigid.” He chuckled, continuing to twirl his switchblade. “This is certainly an impressive battle to watch. And I’ve got the best view~”

Izaya’s cruel smile was pulled taut across his features as he watched everything develop further. They no longer made a triangle but a diamond, with Kaneki in the middle of it all. Izaya watched with morbid interest as the half-ghoul rose from his crater, looking possessed. His scales had molded with his skin like some kind of armor, and then had formed a half-mask around his face. It looked to be half of a diamond, too, just like their formation missing one of its points.

Yeah, this wasn’t scary, it was fun. The informant convinced himself that his pounding heart had more to do with the thrill and excitement than it did with the fear of his own mortality. And yet, when those rushing footsteps behind him reached his eardrums, he froze.

As Shizuo rounded the back of the hill through the trees to better approach where Izaya was with all the rubble around, all he could think to himself was that he couldn’t believe he was doing this. That ungrateful shit would probably tell him to go back into battle instead of stick by his side… As if Shizuo wanted to be anywhere near him. This entire situation sucked. But if he did stick around and got to help out that god-forsaken maggot of a human, then he could feel a little better about himself anyway… Despite everything, he knew he didn’t actually want him dead. And in that way, Shizuo thought to himself that maybe that part of him wasn’t a monster.

He felt the tremor of a crash, and Shizuo wondered to himself who it might have been – his first guesses would have to be Yato or the butler Sebastian. He hoped it was Sebastian. But through the trees, Shizuo saw Sebastian land in that too-fast-to-see, demon-ish way of his, he knew that it probably wasn’t Sebastian that had fallen.

The demon held up his hands, a bullet between each of his fingers. He was smiling a coldly sweet smile. Was he gonna try and kill Izaya?

Am I really… Shizuo sprinted up from crag to crag, feet pounding on the ground beneath him as he jumped behind Izaya and Sebastian threw the bullets with a flick of the wrist.

I can’t believe I’m doing this. He felt something red-hot nestled in his chest. He realized that the trees were growing taller and recognized he was on the ground. His torso felt warm and wet. His lungs felt weak.

When Izaya turned around, switchblade in hand as he grinned at whatever was threatening him, he stopped suddenly. Shizuo had collapsed onto the ground, chest moving unevenly with his breaths. Sebastian rose from the forest, hand to his chin. “My, my,” said the demon, “I meant to hit the puppeteer, not you. Oh dear…” He looked at Izaya with his red eyes. “How very sweet of him.” Stepping over the ex-bartender, Sebastian paused, then smiled at Izaya.

Izaya smiled back. “What, master’s orders?” he taunted.

“Indeed,” Sebastian agreed, and he was gone. Izaya tensed, unsure where he’d be coming from. Just as he rematerialized before the informant, about to swipe him down and likely kill him instantly, Yato crashed in and the two toppled down the hill together, both pushing off of said hill to get back in the air together. Snarling, Kaneki lunged into their battle, aiming for Sebastian.

Izaya laughed with a hitch. “Shouldn’t he be going after Kuroha?” he asked no one, and looked at where Shizuo lay. Izaya’s ears began to ring. The silence was deafening. He could no longer hear the sounds of battle all around him. A smile was plastered onto his face. He approached his rival and prodded him with his foot. “Hey, Shizu-chan, what were you thinking?” he teased.

“…Not gonna… let… you… die, y’shit…,” Shizuo answered him brokenly, and Izaya chuckled weakly.

“Didn’t you want to kill me, Monster?” Izaya smiled a thin smile. “How very uncharacteristic.”

“No… Even if I—hate you… you…rrrr… still… hu—man…” His words became more choppy; each syllable was rasped out with difficulty. “Un…grateful… Flea….”

Izaya laughed again, the tone a bit higher-pitched, a bit more off. “Shizu-chan, that’s not something you can just go and do, y’know. We can’t have my least favorite monster to torment die or anything.”

Shizuo could only look at him hazily. His misty golden eyes were rather calm.

“Really, though, I mean it,” Izaya said, his voice getting harsher, more serious. “That’s not, I mean, you shouldn’t just go and break character like that, y’know? Completely sends the wrong message of your true nature! You can’t… just…”

Shizuo just watched him, having lost the capability of speech. His arch nemesis began to unravel before him.

“Really, really! What, you trying to prove you’re not a monster? Come on, come on! You’re being silly!” His voice was getting slowly more hysterical. “You hate me, why would you do something like that? You wouldn’t!” He tittered a bit. “That just doesn’t make any sense, does it? You know it doesn’t. What reason would you have to do that, huh? What’s your ulterior motive? What is it? Huh?”

Peacefully, Shizuo closed his eyes. Seeing Izaya like this…he couldn’t be all that mad. Was it over? Maybe if he’d been a little less angry… Ah, he couldn’t believe that this, of all ways, was the way he’d go.

Damn it!” Izaya snapped, kneeling at the ex-bartender’s side and pressing both his hands to Shizuo’s chest. “You can’t just go and die like this! You can’t. You can’t die now.” Pressing down and trying to staunch the bleeding, the informant gritted his teeth. Shizuo’s white shirt was stained carmine – it was soaked with blood. Sticky. “You can’t… You can’t, just…” He paused. “Shizuo! You can’t die for me! It wasn’t you; you damned protozoan! It was me! I’m the monster, not you! So—you can’t die, not like this! This isn’t right—it isn’t—”

Ever so slightly, Shizuo’s mouth upturned into a smile.

“Shizuo, you idiot; you’d better live…” Izaya glared down at him. “You haven’t caught me yet.”

Sighing, Shizuo released his breath. His chest didn’t rise again. Izaya stared at him. And stared at him. His mouth twitched, then twisted into a smile as he began to laugh in a spell of hysteria. After a moment, the laughing cut off and he slammed his fist into the ground once, twice, three times before hunching forward and remaining that way for quite some time. No tears came. Eventually, slowly, so slowly… Izaya stood, eyes cool. He gazed at Shizuo for a bit before turning towards the group of Seidou, Shintaro, and Roppi, all facing Kuroha even though only Seidou was putting up a fight. Putting his hands in his pockets, Izaya calmly began making his way down the hill towards them.

Sebastian found himself to be having a tough time fighting both Yato and Kaneki at once, in the meantime. Fighting the powerful Yato was one thing, and this ungodly half-ghoul was faster than Sebastian had first determined. He had to admit he was somewhat impressed. However, the most difficult piece of facing Kaneki was his current state of unpredictability. Teeth clenched, the white-haired nineteen-year-old growled and would fight from a different side than he started on, going every which way while uttering nonsensical things. It was bothersome enough to try and keep track of him, but he was trying to fight Yato at the same time.

Much to the butler’s chagrin, he found himself in a repeat of his battle with Kuroha as Yato faked him out from one side before allowing Kaneki to use him as a spring board towards the demon, sending them both flying into the ground, destroying perhaps fifty trees at once as they tore a hole into the wooded area below. Atop the demon, Kaneki clutched at the butler’s newly broken arm, ripping it from his body and mumbling to himself, “Hungry… got to—need, I need it…” As Kaneki ravenously chowed down on his arm, Sebastian disgustedly kicked him with the side of his leg, sending him into a nearby tree. Kaneki spat out his meat in answer, mumbling something about it tasting like shit anyway.

Eyes burning red, Sebastian stood and brushed himself off with his single arm. “You’re nothing but a beast, aren’t you?” His eyes narrowed in distaste. Before Yato could come crashing down after him, Sebastian sprinted away back towards the initial battlefield, Kaneki shooting from tree to tree after him.

When the two had smashed to earth, the ground had trembled again. Seidou, facing Kuroha, regrettably lost his footing for a moment – long enough for Kuroha to be suddenly right in front of him. Seidou took a huge intake of air out of surprise, and Kuroha grabbed his quinque, tossing it to the side. Seidou knew he was done for, his eyes as large as dinner plates as he stared into the unforgiving face of the serpent. His voice had left him. All he could make out was the faint whisper of, “No…

Kuroha cocked an eyebrow at him. “And you thought you could take me,” he said, demeaning, and Shirazu bounded forward and onto the back of the demon.

Banzai, baby! Don’t think you can fucking kill anybody else, ya got it?!” In the background, Tsukiyama was helping Yoh to his feet.

Get off me, brat,” Kuroha hissed.

“C’mon, ya got no real arm in ya! Ya’ve only got one hand and even that arm’s broken. Give it up already!” He knocked on Kuroha’s head. “Yo, Konoha! Wake up already, we’re freaking out out here!

Shintaro looked at Shirazu blankly, as if he were crazy.

Kuroha spun around and threw himself into the ground, slamming Shirazu beneath him before jumping up and skillfully landing back on his feet. Shirazu somersaulted backwards, ready to jump again. Seidou, snapping back into gear, grabbed for his quinque to aim again.

Kuroha backed up to get into fighting position, only to find Shintaro hugging tightly at his legs. He looked down with perplexed and annoyed yellow eyes. “I’m not letting go,” Shintaro said simply, and Shirazu grabbed at his torso. Roppi remained with Tsuki, head bowed.

“Yo, Seidou, hurry up and get him!” cried Shirazu.

“Konoha…” said Shintaro in a defeated voice, “…forgive me. Too many people are dying… Remember… you’re…my friend, okay?”

Seidou approached, pointing his quinque at Kuroha’s forehead. Kuroha looked at the investigator with cold eyes. Izaya, reaching them just then, began to clap. “Bravo, everybody!” They all looked at him with eyes like ice, from Seidou to Kuroha. Roppi didn’t look. Izaya gave a bitter smile to all of them before addressing the snake. The smile was short-lived, and though his eyes were teasing, his expression was dark. “Kuroha-san, are you frightened? You may just die… No matter how many injuries you can sustain, you simply can’t survive a shot to the head, can you?”

Kuroha glared at him. All of them felt ten degrees colder, and the temperature continued to drop. Shintaro shivered.

“I thought not,” Izaya nodded, eyebrows raised in satisfaction. “And after all, the only reason you’re alive is because of a wish. All you want is to remain real. We could end that right now. How does it feel, Kuroha-san? For you to cease to exist like all of the people you just extinguished?”

Kuroha’s yellow eyes narrowed. “You can’t kill me.”

“Oh? Can’t we?” Izaya asked, tilting his head.

“You can’t,” he repeated, mouth twitching. The darkness began to circle him again. All of them stiffened in preparation.

After Sebastian had crashed into the ground with Kaneki, Yukiteru made the decision to run. He gripped A-ya’s hand and squeezed. A-ya looked at him, eyes vaguely questioning. Yukiteru knew this wasn’t a good place to be. He knew it wasn’t a safe place, nor the right place. No, right now the best option was to flee and hide. “A-ya,” he said. A-ya blinked at him, and Yukiteru gave an extra squeeze before taking off into the woods, pulling him along behind.

Shinichi wheeled around. “Yukiteru? A-ya? Wait—!”

Yukiteru didn’t listen. He just ran and ran and ran – he knew things were about to get really hairy, and he had to get as far away from it as he could, together with A-ya. They passed through trees, maneuvering around them, jumping over roots, and dodging low branches. After he felt that they were far enough going at top speeds, Yukiteru cut to the left, running even faster, the adrenaline pumping with the knowledge that they might still be in the line of fire cutting across like this. If they could just make it to the other side of the playing field… If they just kept running and hid out, then they might just make it. This game didn’t need death or fighting. It was just like a game of hide-and-seek.

Breathing hard, they came upon a more barren area where the factories and shops were. The ground beneath them was dirty and dusty but very flat.

Despite this, Yukiteru felt A-ya’s hand get yanked from his fingers as the raven-haired one tripped and fell to the ground, sliding on the dry earth with a cloud of dust around him. A-ya began to cough. The thought of a game of hide-and-seek breached the gap between their consciousnesses and A-ya remembered what kind of game this really was. Looking back on what he had tripped on, A-ya examined the ground.

Yukiteru continued on a few steps, skidding to a stop while A-ya began brushing the dirt off of where he had tripped. As the dirt was dusted away, a handle was revealed. A-ya blinked, enlightened. A door!

“Yukiteru, come on!” A-ya said as Yukiteru hurried back to him. A-ya was back and he was determined as he grabbed at the handle and lifted a hatch, revealing a ladder leading to the underground. The two looked at one another. The ground shook beneath them, the perfect cue for their reminder of imminent danger. A-ya began descending the ladder as quick as he could go into the darkness. Yukiteru followed swiftly behind, trying not to fall or kick A-ya. As soon as he was far enough in, he slammed the hatch shut and locked it, leaving them both in pitch black darkness.

Safe.

Chapter 21: Sacrifices

Chapter Text

“Yukiteru and A-ya, they…” Shinichi looked concerned.

Ciel rolled his eyes. “Oh, don’t even bother.”

“Shinichi,” said Migi seriously, and Shinichi looked at his hand with a frown. “If there’s anyone you wish to help, it would be those four over there… I sense the power in the snake demon building exponentially with his violent intent. Now is the time. What will you do?”

Shinichi looked down, thinking of A-ya and Yukiteru with regret. If he ran, he’d be able to catch up to them easily, but… He looked at Ciel. “Are you alright on your own for a bit?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll just go back into the woods again…,” he griped, heading into the trees to do so as Kaneki the half-ghoul crashed in front of them. Overhead, Yato was slicing and dicing at the one-armed Sebastian.

Shinichi stared into the pupil-less eye of Kaneki, raising his hands slightly in peace. “I don’t want to fight you,” he said to him.

Migi opened his eye to look at the half-ghoul. Then he looked at his host. The two of them… thought the parasite, …seem to be a lot alike.

Shinichi refrained from glancing back to check on Ciel. He took a tentative step towards the crouching half-ghoul. “I’m going to help your friends with the snake demon over there, okay? I mean no harm.”

Kaneki gnashed his teeth. “Don’t—know. What you mean…

Shinichi backed up a pace. “Your group over there… I’m going to help them.”

“I don’t know—what you’re talking about,” he growled lowly, voice muddled. “I—don’t…”

“Shinichi, be careful!” warned Migi, and Kaneki dove for the half-parasite, ready to sink his teeth into his flesh. Migi spread out, blocking with his knife-like appendages. “Shinichi! Try to pin him down!”

Giving a quick nod, Shinichi ran to the side, allowing his right arm to stretch like silly putty as he rounded the half-ghoul. Migi fought the centipede while he tried to do this, but Migi kept finding his appendages to be sliced clean off by Kaneki’s kagune. He’s fast, thought Migi to himself, watching his host as he tried to catch Kaneki from behind. Their opponent too fast, Migi tried to compensate. With this speed, it was impossible to surround him and catch him off-guard. “Shinichi!

Shinichi looked at his hand, focusing hard in order to hear over the sound of Kaneki’s distorted battle cries and the sound of kagune on organic metal.

“Listen!” Migi shrunk back closer to his host, trying to continually block Kaneki’s attacks. “I’ll take care of those insect-like appendages of his. I do believe they are reminiscent of a centipede. I will take care of those. You take care of the ghoul himself, though. Got it?”

“Got it,” Shinichi confirmed.

Ciel watched from behind the trees, eyes narrowed. How ridiculous this all was… And how long would Sebastian take, anyway?

He looked up at the blurry battle between the god and the demon, annoyed with how tedious this was becoming. He very much wished to go back to his manor and have some tea. And a pastry. He very much wanted a pastry.

Up above, Yato fought despite knowing his insides were ruptured. His eyes were glowing a luminescent and electric bright blue, his own pupils slits just as Sebastian’s were in his own smoldering red eyes. With only one arm, Sebastian was at a disadvantage. After what had happened with Shizuo, Yato didn’t let him anywhere near the original battle area, knowing he’d pick up more of the bullets. With a howl of resolve, Yato sliced his blade downwards, parting Sebastian from his remaining arm. The demon’s eyes widened in surprise as Yato lifted his hand, pointing his index and middle finger forward. The tips of them glowed azure. “Thou who hast desecrated this Land of the Rising Sun…

Time slowed. Sebastian was caught midair. Yato was running his fingers along the side of his blade, which began to emanate a bright light.

…with my advent, I, the Yato god…

Sebastian tried to twist his body away from Yato’s reach, attempting to make his way back to the ground with the aid of gravity. Somehow gravity seemed too slow.

…lay waste with the Sekki…

Sebastian looked to his young master, brow creased. This couldn’t be… He could make out Ciel’s face below, at the edge of the forest. Young Master, I…

…and hereby expel thy vast defilement!

…Although, Young Master, demons cannot experience faith nor loyalty to direct us in our actions, there are two aesthetics we will never fail to uphold. The first is that any order made by a contractor is absolute. We mustn’t go against such orders. The second is simply to obey these orders while keeping the contract. This is why, in the end, we value the lives of our masters over our own.
After all, that is the way of a Phantomhive butler, is it not?
Despite everything, I must admit… I did rather like my role as a butler. It was very pleasant. Really a shame, my lord and master, that I…

Sebastian landed on his feet, and Yato came down on him, swiping his spell-charged blade down. “Rend!” he exclaimed, and carved through the entirety of Sebastian Michaelis, just in front of Ciel. Yato landed behind his target. Sebastian stood there for a moment; the air went red. White light exploded out from within the demon, and he burst in a blast of crimson before being gone entirely.

Yato lowered his blood-stained sword, head bowed.

Ciel, overcome with shock, screamed the name of his butler. It sounded to his own ears as though he couldn’t make any sound at all.

Back with Kuroha and the contestants he was facing, the serpent repeated to them that they couldn’t kill him. “I know you can’t kill me,” the android smiled. “I just won’t let you.”

Seidou, eyes narrowed, shot the quinque, but Kuroha blocked it, allowing it to get caught in the arm without a hand. Just as soon as he did that, the quinque was knocked to the ground and Kuroha had one of his legs free, swinging it around and knocking over both Seidou and Izaya before slamming his foot into the side of Shintaro’s head and jabbing Shirazu in the gut with his stub, knocking all the air out of him and making him choke. Shintaro lost the ability to respond, dazed.  As Seidou tried to reach for his crossbow, Kuroha stepped on his hand and crushed it. Seidou gave an exclamation of shock as pain shot down his arm. Izaya threw his pocketknife with the flick of the wrist at the same time, but Kuroha turned and caught it with his teeth, jerking his head to the side and consequently stabbing Izaya in the shoulder.

It was at this point that Yato appeared after having slain Sebastian, stained with the red of the demon. He looked at Kuroha, and the serpent paused. “…Konoha, you who have been possessed… I will cut your ties with everyone you’ve ever known. In doing so, you may be exorcized.” He wielded his Sekki, pointing it at Kuroha. “Everyone will forget you, but you will be free, and you may make new memories.”

Kuroha blinked blankly, then burst into laughter. “That stupid android is an amnesiac as it is! And you know what? If none of the people he knows ever interacted with him… if I never became a part of his life, do you know what would happen?” He grinned at the god of calamity as though the snake were a child about to tell a secret. Yato only gazed at him with a cold expression of nothingness. “If you did that, and I’d never interacted with him, he’d never exist! I’m the reason this vessel came to be, and the body would have died two years ago even without my interference.”

Recognition flitting across Shintaro’s features, his grey eyes widened, mouth opening slightly.

“In that case,” Yato answered bluntly, “I’ll just have to kill you.”

“Oh, no, no, no…” Kuroha laughed drily, breathily, hunching forward with that manic grin of his. “No, I’m no idiot… I’m done with this fight. I know where to draw the line.”

“What makes you think—?” began Izaya, but Yato held up a hand to silence him. Izaya frowned.

The demon glanced over at Yoh and Tsukiyama. Yoh, though rather beaten up, straightened when he saw Kuroha looking at him. He nodded to Yoh with a menacing smirk. “If anything,” Kuroha continued, “I’ll be finishing off that damned group that injured me badly in the first place. Now if you’ll excuse me…” Kuroha disappeared.

Yato waited, then lowered his sword with a relieved sigh. His sword transformed back into Yukine, who collapsed into a sitting position, exhausted and distressed. They didn’t save Shizuo. “I’m sorry. I can’t actually handle much more.”

“Aa… but… we’re alive,” said Seidou breathlessly from his place on the ground.

“Not all of us,” said Roppi in empty tones, still clinging to the body of Tsuki. He didn’t raise his head.

“I don’t think it’s over yet,” Izaya added, looking over to where Kaneki was facing Migi.

Kuroha appeared behind Yoh and Tsukiyama, bringing his stub arm and his broken arm around both of them with a wide smile. “Hello, you two. How’d the fight go?”

“It went splendid, monsieur,” Tsukiyama bit out, frowning at the demon.

Kuroha laughed cruelly. “Now, Deceiver… Well, Deceiver #2… I have an order for you…,” he said in low tones so only the three of them could hear. Tsukiyama glowered at the demon behind his back.

“What’s that?” Yoh asked, fist tightening around the hilt of his blade.

“Now, you’re going to do as I ask, or else I’ll see to it that you won’t make it home to find your sister. Do you understand?”

He swallowed, then nodded, though his eyes remained indignant.

“What you’re going to do is you’re going to use that sword of yours to kill the little blond-haired sword boy over there. Do you know who I’m talking about?”

Yoh bobbed his head.

“Good. If you fail at killing him and make it back, I will kill you. If they kill you, you will be dead anyway. As I said before, if you don’t do it at all, I’ll kill you. Get it?”

Another dip of the head in confirmation. He stood stiff as a rod.

“Wonderful,” Kuroha grinned. “If you manage to kill the god, too, I’ll never threaten you again. Anyway… I’m going to go check on that annoying little parasite in the meantime.”

Tsukiyama scowled. He knew that he couldn’t go on and tell Kuroha not to touch his Kaneki-kun, but that would only serve to show weakness and make Kuroha want to kill him even more than he might already. Before he could think of what to tell that bastard snake, he was gone again. He looked at his only human team member. Poor Yoh-kun… “Do you think you can do it?” Tsukiyama inquired. He wasn’t worried or anything.

“Of course I can,” Yoh huffed stubbornly, loosening his grip on the blade. He smiled lopsidedly. “I already know how I’ll go about it, anyway.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, don’t underestimate me, Ghoul.”

Ovviamente!” cried Tsukiyama. “Of course!” He touched his cheek, eyes warming. “You really are quite the deceiver, aren’t you?”

“Takes one to know one, you manipulative little shit,” Yoh smirked at him, and Tsukiyama laughed.

“I’m offended!”

“Oh yeah? You look amused.” His visible eye narrowed. “No, actually, you seem touched. What, is that a compliment to ghouls?”

“No, no, ce n’est pas vrai! No, I merely admire your determination, Yoh-kun. For anything you say to them, I will remain here and go along with whatever you say, if need be. You have earned due respect from me. I’d like to see you as my pet, for I do not wish to eat you.”

Yoh raised his eyebrows, then scoffed and turned away. “I’m not your pet, you creep,” he waved him off before proceeding to approach the group of seven up ahead, sword behind his head, blade pressed against the back of his neck. He had his head bowed as though he came in peace. By then Shirazu and Seidou were heading over to Kaneki to try and retrieve him and snap him out of whatever craze he seemed to be in, so it was only a group of five.

Kaneki was still facing Shinichi and Migi in his kakuja form. It was partial parasite versus half-ghoul. Monster versus monster. Though Shinichi and Migi struggled a bit with his erratic behavior and high speeds, with Migi watching out for the kagune and Shinichi fighting Kaneki himself they ended up finding themselves evenly matched with him. Somewhere in his mind, Shinichi realized that if they were to continue this way, they’d all end up killing each other off.

When Sebastian was eliminated nearby, Shinichi had been caught off-guard, earning a bite on the shoulder that snapped Shinichi back to reality. He grabbed Kaneki and tossed him off of him, slightly unnerved by the blood-tainted saliva dripping from the ghoul’s mouth. Staggering backwards, their opponent gave a blood-curdling screech. “I didn’t want it! I didn’t—no good food lately, I—I—even a filthy parasite will do…” In a moment of mad clarity, Kaneki tilted his head towards Shinichi and Migi, cracking his knuckle. A Cheshire’s grin spread across his face. “Right?” And Kaneki attacked again.

Shinichi began to remember as they fought that this guy had said he was an ‘artificial half-ghoul.’ Did that mean he had started out human, just like Shinichi? Looking at the inhuman way his face contorted in his madness; listening to his grotesque, distorted, and broken speech… This monster that was before him, it wasn’t ‘Ken Kaneki’ that had introduced himself. No, not even that. ‘Ken Kaneki’ might have been someone else entirely, from before he became this way. How did Shinichi know? He saw in Kaneki where his own path may well lead. His ‘humanity’ was already slipping away from him. He didn’t start out this way either. His name wasn’t Shinichi anymore. He was not ‘Shinichi Izumi.’ Slowly but surely, he was becoming the monster that he despised. And eventually… he might end up like that.

He felt hot agony blossoming in his chest at the thought, and his breathing came in short gasps. Kaneki struck a blow to his gut, sending him into the air and causing him to collapse to his knees, choking. Every feeling at once was raging in his head, in his chest, all around inside of him. Who was he? What would he become? Who was ‘Shinichi Izumi’? Was he still alive, or had he died? Am I human?

“Shinichi, snap out of it!” Migi called to him, and his breath caught. “Hurry and calm down like I know you do! Now is not the time for you to break!”

Chest pounding with pain, Shinichi closed his eyes, breathed deeply, and stood, numb again. What did it matter who he was? Right now, his only priority was to survive. No one could expect anything less, he assured himself. I am a self-preserving being, and that’s all.

It wasn’t long before Migi spoke again, however. “There are people approaching.” The two sides pushed off from one another and faced the two approaching.

“Hey, hey!” shouted Shirazu, running up along with Seidou. “Kane-kun – he’s on our side…!”

Seidou looked at Kaneki, just a little bit horrified. The half-ghoul was on all fours, insectile appendages writhing around him. His human eye had rolled back in its socket and the ghoul eye was covered by his half-kakuja mask. A third eye had formed on the mask where his forehead would be, twitching and rolling sporadically, unable to focus on any one thing. The half of his face that was covered by a mask was painted with an eerie smile, while what would have been the ‘human’ half was caught in something kind of like a scowl, more like a grimace.

“Yo, um…Kaneki,” said Shirazu.

Seidou grabbed Shirazu by the shoulder, stopping him from going any further towards Kaneki. “Wait… I don’t think… he’s himself right now.” He held his crossbow close, hand trembling ever so slightly. Would he really have to shoot him?… I told him I would. “Kaneki, snap out of it,” Seidou said to him, careful to keep his voice level. He cocked his crossbow.

Shinichi and Migi looked between the three of them, on guard in case anyone chose to attack again.

“Hey, what are you thinking?!” Shirazu grabbed at the quinque. “You’re not planning on shooting him, are ya? That’s Kane-kun! That’s Sassan; you can’t do that…!”

“He asked me to do it,” Seidou answered seriously, jerking his quinque out of Shirazu’s grip.

The orange-haired partial-ghoul ran out between Seidou and Kaneki. “We’ll figure it out, okay?” He turned and went to Kaneki. “C’mon, Kane-kun, let’s get back to the group, okay?”

Kaneki’s answer was a swipe at Shinichi that Migi blocked just in time. “Hungry…”

Seidou stared. Eyes narrowing, he aimed the quinque. “That guy saved my group before, Kaneki… You’d really convinced me you were all human on the inside— really, you’re just falling into the same ends as a ghoul, aren’t you?”

“Seidou!” Shirazu protested, and Seidou shot.

Kaneki blocked before attacking Seidou. “Snap out of it, damn it, did everything we planned mean nothing to you?!” Seidou gasped as Kaneki took a hunk out of his side. The CCG officer ignored the pain, preparing to shoot again. This was more difficult now that he had a crushed hand, courtesy of Kuroha.

“I… I don’t… know…”

“The coffee shop we stayed in last night? That conversation we had on the rooftop? Helping everyone out? How badly you wanted to protect everyone here?!”

“I don’t—know!” Kaneki curled forward, gripping tightly at his bleach-white hair. “I don’t know… I don’t… want… to eat… I’m not… hungry… I don’t want it… I don’t want it… I don’t want it…

Slowly, Seidou relaxed. He lowered his quinque with caution, hand still on the trigger. “It’s okay, Kane-kun, the fight’s pretty much over,” said Shirazu, kneeling in front of Kaneki only to have Kaneki’s kagune pierce him straight through the stomach. “Oh—shit…” He choked up red. “Kaneki…?”

The kagune began to shrivel and die, the kakuja armor protecting him began to wither. “Shi…Shirazu… I…” Kaneki stared at him, wide-eyed. What had happened? He couldn’t remember. “Wh…what…? Did I… do that…?”

“Kaneki, really, it’s fine…,” he choked out. “You’re back now, so we should head to our group before something else stupid happens. I heal fast, this is nothing…”

“S… sorry… I’m sorry… Shirazu, I’m so…” he began to apologize to him repeatedly, curling forward with his shoulders shaking with sobs.

“Hey, no… It’s fine, I can heal, see? I told ya. I’m not dead or nothin’… C’mon…” Shirazu looked to Seidou, and Seidou nodded as he bit his tongue and went over to help coax Kaneki to come with them.

Shinichi gave them a bow. “Thank you two. I appreciate that you brought him back. I wanted to tell him… that I’d like to better meet him. It was an honor going head-to-head with you, Kaneki. I wish I could have met you in the past.”

“I think you two may understand each other better than you think,” Migi said to Shinichi and the distraught Kaneki. “Pleasure to meet you, Ken Kaneki.”

Kaneki was unable to respond, bowing his head with tears freely falling to the grass below. “I’m sure he feels the same,” said Seidou. “I’m sorry for that. I’d like to thank you again for last time.”

Shinichi nodded. “Of course…. Take care. If ever we meet again here, I will not attack you.”

The CCG officer nodded and gave another nod before leading Kaneki back to the others. “Psyche… is Psyche alright?” Shirazu drew his lips into a thin line. Seidou set his jaw. Kaneki lowered his head, realizing the truth behind the silence.

As they walked back, Kuroha appeared behind them, facing the equally battered Shinichi and Migi. “Hello there,” Kuroha smiled eerily.

Yoh had reached Yato, Yukine, Izaya, Shintaro, and Roppi a few minutes before, eyes downcast. “Hey, uh… While Kuroha’s distracted, I… I wanted to apologize for everything. I really didn’t want to fight…” It wasn’t a lie. “At this point, I just want to make it out of here. I…wanted to apologize to the people I’ve faced so far, and to anyone I will face in the future, even if they beat me. I just wish we all weren’t caught up in this shit…”

“You could say that again,” said Shintaro weakly, hand to the side of his head.

“I completely understand, Takami-kun,” Izaya smiled thinly.

“Yoh’s fine, if you want,” Yoh shrugged, carefully lowering his sword. “So, um… That guy I faced… is he…?”

“You mean Shizuo?” asked Yato, voice hollow.

“The bartender guy, if that’s the one,” Yoh confirmed. “I’ve faced him twice now.” Yato, Yukine, and Izaya all got very quiet.

Shintaro looked at them. “D…did he…?”

“I want to see him one more time,” said Yukine, voice strained. “Just one more time.” He looked very upset.

“Jeez, I didn’t know…” Yoh rubbed the back of his head, blue eyes cast to the side. “I guess it might be disrespectful to join you.”

“You can if you want,” Yato said flatly as Yukine got to his feet. “Izaya, are you coming?”

“Mm…” He distractedly wiped his own blood from his switchblade. He gave a sidelong glance to Yoh. “Yeah.”

Shintaro stuck by Roppi while the four went back to climb the hill. Shizuo lay on the earth in his pool of red. Izaya’s hands were still stained. “It was Sebastian?” guessed Yoh, and Yato nodded before kneeling down to move the deceased into a more comfortable-looking position. Yoh remained behind the three of them, out of respect.

Well, really, he was just excited that they were so caught up in their grief. With Yato kneeling like that, he might even be able to take out the god… If Yukine needed Yato to call on him to turn into a sword, he couldn’t do anything if his god were dead… It was now, as Yato was positioning Shizuo’s arms over his chest, that Yoh’s grip tightened on the handle of his crimson blade. “Like I said…” he began, raising it, “…I’m sorry about all this.”

The blade came down as they all turned to look at him. Yukine jumped in front of Yato to protect him – despite all the teases, and despite his arguably poor job as a master, Yato was still like a father to him.

Yato screamed when Yukine was struck, falling into two halves while Yato felt his soul get ripped away from him as the loss pierced his chest and left him heaving in emotional turmoil. At the same moment, Izaya had turned on Yoh and sliced down his chest, giving him, one, two, three gashes along his torso. Izaya finished the combo with a stab to his gut, pointed upwards and into Yoh’s ribcage. The informant twisted the knife and pulled it out. “Rather disrespectful of you, Yoh-kun, being in such close proximity of our fallen friend.” Izaya’s eyes narrowed as he fell to his knees, dropping the sword. “But don’t worry, Yoh-kun… I’m very sorry for what I just did to you.” His tone was oozing with sardonic humor.

Yoh stared at the halves of Yukine, wanting to feel satisfied but honestly feeling nothing but horror and disgust. He thought of the day he’d tried to find an entrance to G Ward, the very center of the prison he was kept in called Deadman Wonderland. He remembered how it had showered blood, and how someone’s decapitated and deformed head had fallen right in front of him. He remembered Ganta’s head… a mess of goopy red even though his face still looked fine save for that little red dot in his forehead. Yoh shuddered, eyes jaded as he curled forward and waited, sure that Izaya would kill him.

Izaya watched, then turned to Yato, who was on his hands and knees in anguish, one hand clutching at his own chest as he gasped for air. “…Yato-kun, perhaps we should teleport away from here. I don’t know about you, but I think it’d be better to get away from everyone for now.”

Croaking out some kind of agreement, Yato tried to breathe. He didn’t want to leave Yukine, seeing how his body hadn’t dissipated yet, but he knew he didn’t have the strength to bring him along. Giving Yukine one last embrace, the god whispered a heart-wrenching farewell before releasing him gently and weakly gripping at Izaya’s leg. The two disappeared in a flash of blue. Yoh remained immobile. Tsukiyama ran to him to see whether he was alright.

Kuroha approached Shinichi and Migi a bit north. Having given his greetings, he sped towards the half-parasite and attacked with his stub arm. Though Migi blocked, both of them slid backwards with the force, blown back by the power in his hit. “Can we really fight this guy?” Shinichi asked, winded.

“Yes, but we’ll die,” Migi answered. Shinichi stared at him. Kuroha attacked, and Migi blocked again, trying to use extra appendages to fight back. “Shinichi, find Ciel. Run away with him. This demon will stop at nothing. He wants to create death. If we part, one of us will make it. I cannot survive without you, but you can survive without me.”

Shinichi’s shoulders sank as Migi detached from his arm, leaving him with his own stub that ended in the middle of his right forearm. Migi became a blob-like entity on two tiny legs, single eye raised above his blob-ish base. “Migi— I’m not leaving you; we don’t have to fight him!”

Kuroha laughed at the irony as Migi responded, “Go to Ciel. Now, Shinichi, while there’s still time.”

Hesitating a few moments, Shinichi ran for the woods and found Ciel, limply sitting on the ground. “Get away from me…” The twelve-year-old earl’s voice was small, quiet.

Shinichi shook his head. “I’m getting you out of here. Like I said in the beginning, if anything happens to Sebastian, I’ll protect you…alright?” Ciel looked at him, eyes guarded and suspicious. Hurt. “Get on my back.” He crouched down to allow Ciel to do so, and the earl obliged, if slowly. “Hold on,” he warned, and looked at Migi. His parasite didn’t look at him. His friend…hah. To think he was really sacrificing himself… There was too much of that going on around here. Shinichi forced his gaze away from Migi’s battle and shot forward at inhuman speeds, running through where Yukiteru and A-ya had run. He listened intently for their voices, eardrums resounding with every sound on the playing field. His feet, pounding on the ground beneath him. Migi’s clashes with Kuroha… The sound of Tsukiyama’s fretting over Kaneki as he approached, and Kaneki’s cold tones in response… (“I don’t want to deal with you right now, Tsukiyama-san… Kindly go away.” “Kaneki-kun, please… please remember that it isn’t your fault.”) He listened to the weak sounds of mourning from Yato to the far south, and before him, he could hear Yukiteru and A-ya. Where were they? Stopping, he closed his eyes.

Below?

Looking around on the ground, Shinichi saw a hatch. “Ciel, you holding on?” A weak, “Yes, Shinichi,” responded him, but when he reached down to open it with his left hand, he found it to be locked.

Deciding it was better to leave it be for now than pry it open, Shinichi looked around for a bit before running into the nearest shop and sprinting up the stairs. Upon finding a bedroom, he lay Ciel down to rest. The child sat on the edge of the bed, gaze focused on the floorboards. Besides Shinichi’s heavy breathing, all was silent. Heaving a sigh, Shinichi sat on a chair beside the bed Ciel sat upon. What now…?

Chapter 22: The Hatch

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Migi couldn’t last long without his host. As a parasite, he needed Shinichi in order to survive. As he fought with Kuroha, he found himself shriveling and withering away just as Kaneki’s armor had. Shinichi, make it out of this game… I may not be able to experience emotions… Yet, somehow…I do believe that I could consider you as something like a ‘friend’… As he lost feeling in all parts of his blobby self, he began to disintegrate, the world going black. Nothing at all… Rather peaceful… Silent. Is this, I wonder, what death feels like…?

Kuroha approached the parasite, who was unable to attack any longer, his attacks flimsy and ineffective. Mouth twisting, Kuroha squashed what remained of Migi with his foot. In the end, he’d only been able to kill two people… rather disappointing, but with the help of that stupid demon Sebastian, more carnage had been made. He smiled at where Sebastian had been obliterated. “I’m not tied down by your obligations… That is why I am the one to survive,” Kuroha grinned, seeming to dissipate before grabbing Yoh by the back of his collar and snatching Tsukiyama away from his group. “Pleasure fighting with all of you!” he called to the remaining five on the field. He took a deep breath of this refreshing air, pungent with the scent of tragedy. “Know I’ll be back, Recorder,” he said menacingly, addressing Shintaro one last time before disappearing with his group.

All that remained was Seidou, Shintaro, Roppi, Shirazu, and Kaneki. Kaneki was shakily shuffling through Tsuki’s medical bag to tend to everyone’s wounds while Seidou and Shirazu laid out the bodies of the dead so they looked better at peace. Shintaro was tentatively making an attempt at cheering Roppi up. The alternate only looked at him coldly and said, “Tsuki was everything I had.” Shintaro swallowed his words, looking down.

Kuroha brought his members all the way to the residential area in the west, where Group 3 had taken refuge for so long. Clutching at his stomach, Yoh looked up at Kuroha with a weak, hopeful smile. He could barely breathe; stars surrounded his vision. His lung had collapsed. “So…I killed him. I did it… And I made it.”

Kuroha nodded, smiling. Tsukiyama was on one knee, glowering at the demon. “Yes, you did kill him. Thank you. Unfortunately, because of your injuries, you’re just a nuisance to this group.” He stepped towards Yoh, who tried to crawl away. Kuroha stepped on his leg, crushing it beneath him. Yoh opened his mouth in a wordless scream, losing his breath and capacity to make a sound. His eyes bulged in their sockets. His breaths came short and shallow. He seemed to be trying to say something; perhaps one last desperate outcry to the sister he’d never return to. “You’re no use to me now.” Stepping on the back of his neck, Kuroha snapped his spine. Tsukiyama, jaw set, lowered his head in respect for the dead.

Yato and Izaya were at the old-fashioned house where they began. It felt nostalgic. Yato dropped off into unconsciousness soon after the teleportation there. Izaya understood that he would be exhausted, and attempted to haul him into the house with dull annoyance. Yato went along with him just long enough to make it inside and collapse on the floor. Izaya gave up after that, choosing to idly make some tea. Without Shizuo or Yukine and with Yato asleep, it was very, very quiet. “Ah, without all the noise,” remarked Izaya softly to himself, gazing out the window and past the invisible barrier, “…I almost feel a bit…” He stopped, then looked into his tea. …lonely. And alone, he sipped at his bitter drink. With distant eyes, he sank into his ideas of ‘where to from here.’

Shinichi looked around for some kind of first aid for some of the gashes he’d earned in his fight with Kaneki. Ciel sat with a dead expression on the edge of the bed. Finding it to be hard to bandage anything with one hand, the older gave up for now and approached Ciel. “…Do you need anything? Something to drink, maybe… or perhaps you should take a rest.”

“…Sebastian was all I had left,” Ciel stated, void of emotion.

Unsure of what to tell him, Shinichi bowed and proceeded to sit beside him in silence, both of them solemn. He had nothing else to say. Nothing to give but company, and that just didn’t seem like enough.

The fallen were laid to rest where they had died on the field, Groups 1 and 2 both paying their respects. Any who had their eyes still open in shock or desperation had their lids shut by the fingertips of their fellow players. Psyche lay beside Tsuki – eventually the others had convinced Roppi, after much violent protest, to let the body of Tsuki go. Now Shintaro stood just next to Roppi, unsure how to put into words the empathy he was experiencing at that moment. The clumsy, anxious ball of nerves looked at peace at last, roses seeming to blossom over his hollow chest. Psyche, on the other hand, had been decapitated, and no matter how hard they tried they could not make it look like he was sleeping. The chord of his pink headphones had been torn, but they had put the headphones back over his ears, as they had been flung to the side after Kuroha had dropped him. His white clothes had gone red, though by now it looked more brown than anything else.

Yukine was laid next to Shizuo. The groups had put both halves of Yukine as close together as they could manage. If one didn’t pay attention to detail, they could suppose he was resting. Shizuo, like Tsuki, had flowers blossoming on his chest, only his heart was still intact. A smile still touched his cold lips.

Sebastian had become no more than a spatter of red. Migi was nothing but dust to be trod upon.

The remaining members of Groups 1 and 2 had a long time spent in silence as the sky turned golden. The sun was setting. Tonight would be the full moon. Without much discussion, the two teams somberly trudged back towards the city to find refuge for the night.

Efforts crushed and teammates – friends – dead, what remained of the six groups moved on.


 

The air was stuffy and musty - stagnant. Yukiteru and A-ya remained very still until the echoes of the battle far-off died out. Once, someone tried to open the hatch. Though the two stiffened, whoever was trying to open it gave up quickly. Their footsteps soon faded away. After what seemed like ages in silence, Yukiteru began to think of the nights A-ya and him would speak to one another. He guessed they wouldn’t have to whisper as much anymore. There was no one to wake up.

In the pitch black for this long, Yukiteru began to wonder if he was even where he thought he was. Sometimes he’d shift around a bit, feeling the rusty metal rungs on his hands to remind himself that yes, he was on a ladder leading down. Was A-ya still beneath him?

The moment this question crossed his mind, it kept coming back to haunt him, running circles in his head until it began to spiral. Just as though it were time for one of those night-time conversations, Yukiteru spoke up, timid. “…A-ya?”

“Yeah?”

Yukiteru sighed in relief. “Do you think…it’s safe to go out?” From below, unidentifiable echoes resounded, like incoherent whispers spoken in another tongue. That’s all they’d had to listen to for quite some time now. Knowing A-ya, he’d want to go and see, wouldn’t he?…

“I want to see what’s below us,” A-ya responded.

I thought so, thought Yukiteru with a silent sigh.

A-ya paused. “…Will you come with me?”

Though Yukiteru was terrified about the idea, he answered with an, “Of course, A-ya…”

The two descended into the darkness below, feeling their way down the old ladder. With no light, no matter how long they were down there they couldn’t see even their hands gripping the rungs before them. For what seemed like hours, they descended in silence, but that could have just been perspective.

“…Yukiteru, I see light,” A-ya whispered, and the other looked backwards to try and see. A-ya must have been blocking it, because he couldn’t see anything.

“Really?”

“Yeah…” With more vigor, A-ya began descending a touch more quickly. As Yukiteru struggled to keep up in the pitch black, he began to feel the rungs getting less rusty and more smooth, as if the metal had been polished. Not too long after, A-ya informed him that the ground was near before getting off the rungs himself and waiting for Yukiteru to join him. The two looked down a long corridor, lit with little yellow lights. They looked at one another for a moment, and then A-ya led the way. Yukiteru gulped and followed behind.

The echoes got louder as they went. Mindless babble began to sound more like actual words. “…kidding me! …serious?” It was a male voice.

At the end of the hallway was a wooden door. They could hear the voice speaking behind it. It wasn’t The Voice, much to A-ya’s disappointment as well as relief, but it was certainly a queer situation they were in.

“Oh, jeez…,” said the voice, sighing heavily. They heard shifting. “Well—! Not my fault, I guess.” They heard something rattling. Rolling? A-ya tried to crack open the door, but it creaked loudly. Yukiteru grimaced, and A-ya jumped backwards, ready to run for it. “Oh, you guys came down? Come on in.” The two looked at one another, considering it. It was A-ya who opened the door, but they stepped in together.

Who stood before them was a boy older than both of them, probably somewhere in his twenties. His hair was golden, eyes squinting as he grinned a goofy smile. He wore a simple red t-shirt and jeans along with a cross necklace around his neck. “Hi there and welcome to my hiding place,” he beamed, rocking his arms back and forth happily. He seemed thrilled.

Neither of them answered, unable to think of any way to respond. Behind him were perhaps thirty different screens, each displaying a different area of the game field. Sometimes the screens would flip and show a different angle or area.

“No need to be so excited to meet me or anything,” the unidentified boy mumbled, rubbing the back of his head.

“Who are you?” asked Yukiteru. Both of them remained on guard. His hand was on his dart pouch.

“Not someone you need to fight,” he grinned. “So! I’m…” He paused with his arms mid-swing— he’d begun rocking them again. He looked to the ceiling. “Name. Right. I’m Aureus! Hi!” Before giving them the chance to answer, he continued, “Don’t worry, you don’t need to introduce yourselves or anything. You’re Yukiteru, and you’re C-ta.”

They looked at one another. “Um—” began Yukiteru.

“Wait, wait…!” He put his hands to his face and dragged them downward, stretching his cheeks into a frown. “Damn it. My bad. You’re A-ya,” he corrected himself, pointing at A-ya. “My ba-a-ad…” He smiled sheepishly.

“Are you one of the game runners?” A-ya asked suspiciously.

“No!” He paused. “Well, kinda!” Both of the players squinted at him. “I mean, it’s a really good guess, I guess. I’m just a mystery.” He sat back down in his swivel chair with a satisfied smile, waggling his forearms back and forth in front of him. He stopped. “No, but really, first of all I wanna say something. Yeah. First.” His hands flew to his head. “Holy cow that was a terrible scene last night! I could barely watch. C-ta really had to go, but I didn’t really see that coming… not exactly, anyway. A-ya—right, by the way, awesome with the persuasion of Sebastian’s group. That was awesome. For the record, that’s the smartest move, making an alliance with that group. It was my favorite. If I were in this game, I’d make an alliance with them, no question. I’m really sad about what happened, actually….” He pouted, giving a sad little frown.

“What happened?” asked A-ya seriously, but Aureus held up a hand.

“Secondly! Yukiteru, don’t kill people. Just saying. You’ve got some potential that scares me. Anyway. So.” He grinned at them. “Hi!”

“We… um… so what do you do?” asked Yukiteru.

“Watch these screens. Wait to see if people find me. Right! You guys did that! Thanks, by the way. I’m supposed to just kinda chill down here the entire game, which is fine because it’s still cool being able to watch it. I’m something like an Easter egg in a video game – if you find me, you get rewarded.”

“With what?” asked A-ya cautiously.

“You see, I’m the best items master there is!” he grinned, looking proud on the matter, eyes shining. “So! I have the best items in-game! Anything I have is something that you can’t get from any of the special items blocks.”

“What are our items?” asked Yukiteru curiously.

“For you, Yukiteru, I can give you god-like powers. Go big or go home, right? No immortality or anything, but you can levitate and stuff if you want. Move really fast. That kind of stuff.”

“Really?” Yukiteru was pleasantly surprised.

“Yeah, and A-ya, if you want, I can give you the ‘dark-clad hero’ ability, giving you greater strength and agility…but most importantly you get a cape!”

A-ya and Yukiteru looked at one another, then back to Aureus.

“Optionally, I could give you two a third option - because it’s you two, you could veto both of these items and instead restart the entire game over again with the same players… You could try and see if you’d get a different outcome.” He smiled a pleased little smile at their appalled reactions.

“Would we remember what happened this time, though?” asked Yukiteru, voice small.

He shrugged and gave a vague ‘I’unno’ sound.

“Who are you?” A-ya frowned.

“I’m Aureus!” the man repeated, wiggling his arms back and forth.

“No, I know your name,” A-ya dismissed. “Who are you? What do you really do? Are you just an items master?”

“Me?” He smiled a wry smile. “I am the meaning put into every story; I am every meaning taken out. The thought put into it…every strategy and every symbol. I’m the purpose, the moral, the message. Yeah, so maybe I’m the reason for every parabolic tragedy, but I’m also the hope found in bittersweet endings – I may be the reason life got tougher, but I’m also the reason it’ll get better!” He clenched his fists before him, obviously ready to waggle those forearms again out of pure excitement. “’Cause, you know…people like conveying that message.” He paused, then flashed another smile and predictably shook his arms. “Hi!”

Yukiteru and A-ya could only gaze at him in perplexity. If that was the truth… But, what did that even mean…?

Jerking back from his confused thoughts, Yukiteru looked at one of the screens, stunned. On the screen was a purple-haired terrorist with a black eye patch that he thought looked rather familiar… Her long hair was billowing out behind her, violet eye narrowed and teeth gritted as she climbed the rubble up to somewhere that wasn’t clear by the angle. Her black shirt was dirty and torn, and though she looked beaten-up, her eye shown with an intensity that spoke volumes of how she would not be pushed down. “Is that… Ninth? Uryuu Minene?” he asked with urgency, stepping forward. He knew her from the battle royal back home.

“Hm?” Aureus looked behind him. “Oh, yep. That’s the female game going on.” He smiled lopsidedly. “It seems their game’s about to end.”

Notes:

At last we meet one of the game masters! Or, well, sort of a game master? Hm.

Chapter 23: Parallel

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

 

The game field was the same for the females as it was for the males. Each group, by number, was in the same place, with the same color circle. As no one was told who was in their groups, everyone was apprehensive on who they’d end up with. They’d been prepped by the Voice already, but they were left even more in the dark than the males.

Group 1 showed up in the cabin in the woods, on the same pink circle that Kaneki, Shirazu, Psyche, and Delic had found themselves on a few days later in a parallel realm. The four members looked around at one another – the first was Yuno Gasai, a pink-haired human girl in a light blue and white school uniform. There were red bows in her hair, completing the adorable look. Then there was human B-ko, normally charismatic but currently very stressed out by the situation. She had violet eyes and brown hair that was cropped to frame her face. A red ribbon was tied like a hairband into a pretty little bow, and she wore a beige-and-red themed school uniform. The goddess of war, Bishamonten, was a powerful woman with fiery eyes, long golden hair sweeping the ground beneath her. She wore a grey uniform similar to military attire. The last of the group was the human (or half-phantom) named Hiyori Iki. She had brown hair and magenta eyes, a scarf to match was wrapped about her neck. She wore a pale purple school uniform.

After they were teleported, B-ko and Hiyori had both fallen over. Bishamonten assessed the situation and grunted, turning to Hiyori. “Alright,” she began bluntly, “so it seems you and I are in the same group.” Hiyori blinked at her. They were from the same world, and you could say they… knew each other, at least. “I hope when we make it back that you tell that stupid delivery god I’ve taken care of you… but that doesn’t mean he’s out of the woods yet. Understand?”

Hiyori nodded enthusiastically. Yato: Bishamonten’s sworn rival. “Uhm, yeah! I’ll let Yato know… Uh…” She looked around. Names had failed her.

Yuno was already over at the weapons table, examining the weapons available to them all. Beneath an axe, there was a slip of paper with her own name. Smiling, she lifted it and took a swing, testing out the weight. She nodded in approval, then headed to a pair of blue scissors and picked them up to reveal they belonged to B-ko. The pink-haired girl happily trotted over to B-ko, who sat frozen where she had first fallen. “Here,” said Yuno with a smile to B-ko. “It’s your weapon.”

“…” B-ko stared at it, not comprehending.

“Hey, um…” Hiyori approached, crouching down to her level. “It’s okay.” She held out a hand. “Are you scared? Is that it?” B-ko looked at the ground and accepted her hand; Hiyori helped her to her feet.

“This…kind of thing shouldn’t be able to happen, right?” asked B-ko tentatively. “What kind of game is this…? It’s not like…any of us asked for it, either… What kind of world could this be, if there are all sorts of different realities around…? It’s got to be some kind of dream, but…I know it isn’t.”

“Yeah, I’m kinda freaked out too,” Hiyori sighed. “Unfortunately, I’m getting used to crazy things happening in my life…”

Bishamonten gave a slight smile of amusement, then shook her head. “You three are only humans… for the most part you are too, Hiyori, even though you’re a half-phantom. Humans should be protected, so I shall take care of the three of you if something happens. As the goddess of war, this game should be easy.”

“Doesn’t that make it even more suspicious?” asked Yuno, staring up at the goddess. “If it were so easy, it wouldn’t be much of a game…”

“That’s true…”

“Well, uh, let’s try our best!” cried Hiyori, striking a pose. “After all, if we give our all, we’ve got to have a chance!”

“…Yeah,” smiled B-ko, looking less uncomfortable by now. “I’m just more worried about whether everyone’s alright back home…”

“Hm?” Hiyori blinked at her, frozen in her pose of determination.

B-ko flashed a smile. “There’s just someone at home I care about. He’s a, ah, friend of mine.” A-ya.

“That’s okay,” Hiyori nodded. “There are two people in particular I’m worried about…” Yes, that was right. Yato and Yukine were people she needed to return to. She folded her hands together, eyes clouded.

“I, too, am concerned for my Shinki at home,” said Bishamonten. “We must complete this game so that I can return to them. Without me, I don’t know what may happen…”

“I know that I have to make it out,” said Yuno matter-of-factly, then smiled a closed-eye smile. “I have Yukiteru to return to. I made a promise. I absolutely need to protect Yukki…” She frowned a bit. And without my Future Diary, there’s no way for me to make sure he’s alright…

“Anyway, you may all call me Bishamon,” said the goddess, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Hiyori!” piped up the girl with the magenta scarf, raising her hand. She hoped the others would follow along so she could remember their names…

“Yuno,” said Yuno, handing B-ko her scissors.

“And I’m just B-ko,” said B-ko, amiable once more.

“Well,” said Bishamon dismissively as she turned towards the door, “it seems that all of us are determined to make it out of here alive. Let’s see to it that this happens.” A chorus of agreements followed.


 

Group 2 was situated on the red circle atop the skyscraper, and it consisted of two CCG officers from the Realm of Ghouls: Akira Mado, a CCG officer that was valedictorian of her class, much to the chagrin of Seidou Takizawa; and Saiko Yonebayashi, a shut-in artificial half-ghoul officer, peer to Ginshi Shirazu, who really only wanted to go back to her room and sleep. They were accompanied by two others, of the Realm of the Heat-Haze: Ayano Tateyama, a girl of the past who wore a vibrant red scarf. To Shintaro, she had already died. It was the same for the fourth member, her adopted sibling named Tsubomi Kido.

After regaining her bearings from the teleportation, Ayano stood back up and tentatively approached Kido. Her black-themed school uniform billowed in the wind. “Tsu-chan…” Her voice was timid. Ayano, though from the past, realized what had happened. Already, to her little sister Kido, she had jumped from the school rooftop and disappeared. It had not been a suicide, but an act of martyrdom: it was more complicated than jumping to her death out of despair. Rather, it was an attempt to trick the demon that had been possessing her father at the time. The details of the plan were incredibly complex, but ultimately it didn’t thwart the Clearing Eyes Snake.

But anyway, seeing Kido older now, Ayano knew that there was some kind of discrepancy of time. To her, Kido was from the future. To Kido, Ayano was a figment of the past. There was no way of knowing how Kido would take her death. Was she angry? Hateful? Or was she just sad? Had she moved on?

“…I miss you,” Kido whispered. Her head was bowed, her green hair parted to cover her right eye. The red-scarfed girl’s fears melted away, and she smiled, embracing her little sister tight – ah, she was taller than Ayano now…

“Can I hug you, too, Mado-san?” Saiko asked Akira, looking up at her.

“You don’t need to use honorifics here…” said Akira dismissively, posture erect. Her light blond bangs were braided and brought into a tight bun at the back of her head. She wore formal attire. “…As polite as it is.” She paused, glancing at the short and plump blue-haired girl before patting her on the head and looking around to find where their weapons might be. The most logical place would be on the platform atop the doorframe.

“So is that a no?” Akira didn’t answer her. Frowning slightly at the fact everyone but her was doing something, Saiko looked around before approaching Ayano and Kido. “Hiya. I’m the great Yonebayashi.” She wiggled her fingers at them. “Greet me.”

They pulled apart, Kido coughing and pulling her purple hood over her face. “Hi, um, Yonebayashi-san,” Ayano smiled warmly. “I’m Ayano, and that’s Tsu … Ah, well, I think she goes by Kido now.”

“Ayano, you have a weapon up here,” Akira informed her as she game back down the ladder with two items – a red-handled pair of scissors and a silver briefcase. “The quinque… This suitcase is mine. Here.” She handed the scissors to Ayano.

“What’s she gonna do with a pair of scissors?” asked Saiko skeptically. “Do they do anything cool?”

“I use these for making paper cranes, though…,” Ayano said, frowning slightly. “Well…I hope not to use them for fighting anyway, Yonebayashi-san.”

“You can call me Saiko, actually,” said Saiko. “Might as well act more like friends anyway, hehe~”

“So, Saiko and Kido don’t have weapons,” remarked Akira.

“Yeah, I know why I’m not included,” Kido said coolly, regaining her calm and collected demeanor. She stuck her hands in her pockets. Her hoodie was iPod-themed; she must rather like music. “I’m not exactly ordinary when it comes to humans… When I was little, it came to be that people began to notice me less and less. My eyes… ever since that time…” She considered using her ability as a demonstration: invisibility. She decided against it. “Well, they became the red eyes of a monster.” She closed her eyes as she spoke. Ayano frowned, brow furrowing. She was ready to protest, but Kido only continued. “I have the power to become invisible at will, and I can expand that ability to all of you, as well… The condition is that if anyone outside of my power touches me in any way, the invisibility shuts down.”

“That’s…really awesome,” commented Saiko, nodding her head in approval. “You’re cool.”

“Eh—” Kido stared at Saiko, going pink in the cheeks. She pulled her hood over her face again, clearing her throat. “…Thank you.”

Ayano grinned wide, supremely happy with this reaction from Saiko. Surely the four of them could get along just fine.

“Yeah… you call your eyes monstrous,” scoffed Saiko. “Look at what I can do!” She pointed to her left eye as she made the sclera grey, iris red. “I can have a single red eye, and I don’t got the white anymore. Beat that.”

Kido blinked, astonished. She hadn’t expected anyone to have anything similar… To think, in other realms, that could mean the same kind of thing was occurring to other kids…

Akira crossed her arms. “I think both of you should shut your mouths,” she said bluntly, and Kido straightened uncomfortably while Saiko saluted her tiredly. Ayano stiffened confusedly. “None of you are monsters, already – get that through your heads. It’s not as though either of you were born this way…”

Touched, Kido bowed her head to hide her expression. Saiko laughed a bit. Ayano merely smiled a warm smile.

“Anyway,” said Akira, turning her head to look at the door that led to the stairs, “I think the best way to start would be to look around. We will begin this game on defense rather than offense. I don’t know the people running this game, and something tells me that there’s something else behind it that we need to uncover. Pointless bloodshed is simplistic and boring. There has to be reason behind this. We’re going to get to the bottom of this game, and that’s that.” She looked around at all of them. “We will all work together to reach the end of this. We’ll make introductions simple. I’m Akira, a Rank One investigator of the CCG. I hunt ghouls like that girl Touka.” Touka Kirishima: another player of this game. “This,” – she pressed the button on her suitcase, and it opened to transform into a shining whip – “…is my weapon.” She twisted it skillfully in her hand, and it changed from a whip into a dagger. “It is a chimera quinque, something made specifically for fighting ghouls. As you can see, it can be as useful on humans, but I’d prefer not to kill my own species.” With a flick of the wrist, it was back in its briefcase. “And the rest of you? Name, status, and weapon, if you please.”

“Saiiiko,” said Saiko, raising her hand. “I’m a Rank Three CCG officer but also I love video games and food and anime and manga and especially food. And naps.”

Akira closed her eyes, cutting her off before Saiko could continue with what Akira knew would become a long-winded rambling about nothing in particular. “That’s enough, Saiko.”

“Okay.”

“I’m Ayano, and, uh…” Ayano scratched at her cheek, sheepish. “Well, I have these scissors, I guess. I’m kinda clumsy…” She laughed weakly. “…But I’ll do my best. I’m, um, a sixteen-year-old student?”

Kido facepalmed, and Saiko and Ayano looked at her curiously. “I’m the same age as my older sister,” Kido sighed. “I’m Kido, and I have the power of invisibility – the Hiding Eyes ability. I’m the… current leader of a group called the Mekakushi Dan.”

Ayano blinked, happily surprised. So Kido had become the leader after Ayano had died… She was very happy with her. She hoped Kido and the other two siblings were all getting along.

“Well,” said Akira, “the best thing right now is to search this building for supplies and provisions. That will be our first mission.” She began walking to the door. “Begin.”


 

Group 3 showed up on the orange circle in the park near the water fountain. Maka Albarn, a Meister; Rika Furude, a mere child of ten years; Rena Ryuugu, a simple student; and Nora, a spirit and Shinki, all looked at one another. “Whoa, that was fast; that was sudden, wasn’t it, wasn’t it?” said Rena, steadying herself on her feet. She wore a white and light blue school uniform, the skirt long. Her brown hair didn’t quite reach her shoulders.

“Yeah,” Rika agreed in her small voice. She tilted her head, and her neatly-cut, long blue-violet hair fell from her shoulder. She wore a black skirt with high socks - her short-sleeved white collared shirt had a pink bow around the neck.

“It seems all of us will be working together, so we’ve got to do it right,” said Maka matter-of-factly. Her blond pigtails swung with the head movement as she nodded. She put her gloved hands on her hips. “I expect none of you to be slacking off, either…” She wore a long black coat and a black-and-red skirt.

“Should we redo intros?” Rena inquired, touching her bottom lip thoughtfully with her index finger.

“I like that idea,” said the youngest as she went to the fountain and reached for each of the weapons. “Rena, I think this is your cleaver…” Rika’s brow furrowed as she handed Rena said cleaver.

“Huh? A cleaver, then… And you have a knife, Rika-chan?”

“Mm, that’s so,” remarked Rika, eyes clouded as she lifted said knife. “Scary…”

“I should have figured I wouldn’t get any weapons,” Maka sighed. “But the problem is… ugh!” She held her head, frustrated. “I don’t have Soul here with me! Without my partner, I can’t exactly be a Meister…”

“A Meister?” asked Nora curiously, tilting her head with a thin smile on her doll-like features. Her eyes were a jaded burgundy. She stepped forward, and her wooden sandals made soft tapping sounds at the dirt beneath her feet. “What is that, Maka?”

“Oh, um, right…” Maka rubbed the back of her head, quirking an eyebrow. “Everyone’s from a different reality here, so you probably have no idea what that is… Well, I am a wielder of weapons… um, but the weapons are actually people, that turn into weapons, I guess. It might sound weird out of context.”

Rika shrugged. “There are a lot of interesting things already in my small town,” she admitted, smiling childishly as she sat on the edge of the fountain, feet kicking back and forth.

“I guess there is,” Rena half-agreed, eyes averted distractedly.

Nora only smiled a cold and kind smile. “I am a spirit, as I’ve said… I am also a weapon. I can be yours. You can use me.”

“…What kind of weapon are you?” Maka asked curiously, touching her chin. “I mean, being from different realms… I don’t know whether your soul wavelength has anything to do with how well we’ll work together…”

“Soul wavelength is something I don’t know of,” said Nora, rolling up the white sleeves of her kimono to reveal symbols in red on the skin of her arms, each a name. “But I can be many kinds of weapons, if you call a name of mine. I have many names… You are no god, but since you say you are a Meister… if you are of another realm, then perhaps you can name me yourself.” She rolled her sleeves back down. “You can give me another name…and then I will transform into your weapon at will. How does that sound?”

Maka frowned, considering it. She didn’t very much like the feel of Nora’s soul, but seeing as she was the only weapon option Maka had, there seemed to be no other choice. “Fine… Should I just give it to you now?”

“Yes, if you want,” Nora smiled. “Normally I’d need both a Shinki name and a weapon name, but I don’t believe I’ll be your Shinki if you are merely a human…”

“Well, alright,” Maka nodded. “Then… Nora, I give you the name Haken… Haken, act as my weapon!”

At first, there was silence as Maka pointed at Nora. Rika and Rena were just watching in interest. Both of them stared at Nora, waiting to see if anything would even happen. Would it even work? Then Nora closed her eyes and began to glow, transforming into a red scythe that settled in Maka’s grip.

Maka stared, giving her a test-swing. “…Amazing.” To think, she’s the same weapon as Soul… That’s almost frightening. “Alright, Nora, you can return to normal.”

Nora did so, turning on her heel and giving a satisfied smile to Maka. “ ‘Haken,’ huh?” She lifted the bottom of her kimono to reveal the name engraved in a paler red on her ankle. There were more unmentioned names along her legs. “Are you pleased? The weapon I become always suits the master.” She closed her eyes. “I hope I please you… Master Maka.”

With well-hidden discomfort, Maka nodded. “Yeah,” she smiled. “I guess we all should take good care of one another, huh?”

“Yeah!” Rena cheered, holding up a fist, cleaver gripped in her other hand.

Eyeing the weapon warily, Rika smiled. “Yes, I hope we can all get along here.” Giggling innocently, she beamed. Maka smiled back at her, green eyes shining with conviction.


 

Minene Uryuu the terrorist looked around at all of the members of her group as they stood on a green circle in the middle of a storeroom. Her wavy hair was dark purple; long. Narrowing her single eye, Minene didn’t like the results of who she was supposed to work with.

Reiko Tamura had just turned on the lights – a parasite with dead eyes. Her black hair was swept to the side. Standing in the circle with Minene was the Homunculus Lust and the cute little Deadman named Minatsuki Takami. Despite the fact Minatsuki had acted so adorable and shy when all of them were introducing themselves on the platforms, Minene did not get a good feeling from this kid.

Basically, Minene was stuck with a bunch of freaks. Great.

Minatsuki, looking around at everyone else, came to discover that she was surrounded by strong people intelligent enough not to fall for her tricks. So, she decided to let up the nice girl act, sighing as she put a hand on her hip just as her brother Yoh had the habit of doing. “Well, this is disappointing,” she remarked. She wore a pale yellow dress, her dark brown hair pulled into two low braids.

“I don’t understand,” said Reiko flatly, coming back over to the circle.

“Well, I know there’s no point in trying to trick any of you, so I’m not gonna act all cutesy and shit,” Minatsuki responded bluntly. “I’m pretty glad I’m not stuck with any wimps, though – all of you seem pretty impressive. No, I’m actually more disappointed in the fact that there are no men around.”

Minene scoffed, rolling her single eye and crossing her arms.

“…Because they’re the most fun to torture,” Minatsuki finished in low tones, eyeing Minene.

Minene frowned at her.

Lust began to laugh. She gave off the air of a dark seductress, toying with her dark, wavy, luscious hair with one hand while putting her other hand on her hip. She wore a long black dress with no sleeves along with long black gloves. “I completely agree! They’re far too easy to manipulate for their own good.”

Reiko observed the interaction with vague interest.

“They’re complete idiots,” Minatsuki nodded, grinning wide. “Real suckers.”

“They’re no more than putty to me,” Lust chuckled.

Minene shrugged. Some guys were stupid, but some weren’t – it really depended. Either way, though, they always seemed to be a pain in the ass.

“Yes…” Minatsuki grinned, bringing her hands to her cheeks in excitement. “And to hurt them, to betray them… The look on their face when you strike them down, just as you’re about to kill them…that is a face I look forward to! That is the face that turns me on!”

“…Oh.” Lust seemed rather disturbed. She was a creature that was the embodiment of lust, yet it was not something she herself had anything to do with – she felt no such temptation. No, she just caused lust in men, that was all. “That’s just distasteful.”

“You’re one fucked-up kid,” remarked Minene.

“Ah, shut the fuck up,” Minatsuki waved them off. “By the way,” she said to Minene, “I’d shut your mouth if I were you. I could kick your ass.”

“Go ahead and try, pipsqueak,” growled Minene in turn. She held up the weapon she’d retrieved from the box nearby. “I’ve got a belt full of bombs as my weapon, and I could care less about dying if it means killing your demented ass!”

“Humans…are strange,” commented Reiko as she watched the exchange between Minatsuki and Minene.

“Aren’t they interesting?” Lust agreed.

“Indeed.”

The two non-humans watched the two humans argue, both of them working on their plans in their own heads. In their silence, the homunculus and the parasite came to a mutual understanding.


 

The factory was occupied by Celty Sturluson, Shiro, Azami Midou, and Sen Takatsuki. “So this is my group,” smiled Takatsuki, twining her fingers together. She was an author who had played herself off as a human when in actuality she was the alleged sole half-ghoul that had been naturally born: the One-Eyed Owl, leader of a dastardly organization of ghouls – the same organization that had tortured Kaneki and thus given him his white hair; his blackened nails. “Let’s see how well this works out~”

“Well, I’m gonna say it right now that we’re not gonna be messing around,” Azami said firmly. She was a human from the same prison as Yoh, a girl with pink hair. “I’m intending to make it out of here, anyway.”

“I’m glad I’m with somebody I know!” cried Shiro in delight. A mysterious and childish albino, Shiro also originated from that prison, along with Minatsuki and Ganta. She and Minatsuki were the only ones not in prison attire – Shiro wore a tight-fitting peach bodysuit with red designs on it. Though Shiro was technically a Deadman, it was something even she wasn’t aware of. “Azami, this’ll be fun! We can make it back, and we can find Ganta and I promise I’ll share some of my pudding with you and him even though it’s my favorite!”

“Uh…thanks.”

Celty, a Dullahan of Celtic folklore clad in black with a yellow and cat-like biker’s helmet, had by then wandered to the no-longer-working conveyor belt, tilting her helmet curiously at an armadillo sniffing around at the rubber. She held out her hand to the armadillo, and it sniffed her. Celty noticed that it had a piece of paper under its feet that had Azami’s name written on it.

The armadillo climbed up Celty’s arm and perched on her shoulders. Celty, unsure of what to do, had her arms spread out, trying to figure out whether she should grab it and put it back on the belt, or leave it be, or hold it, or…

Takatsuki began to giggle, grinning at the show. Her excessively long green hair was messy; untamed. Azami and Shiro looked at her, but the author only pointed to Celty. “Silly.”

“Kincho!” Azami exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

“Kincho?” Shiro repeated blankly.

“He’s my pet… I taught him how to do tricks, but I can’t imagine why he’s here…”

“I think he might be your weapon,” Takatsuki suggested, suppressing the urge to laugh.

What? You’re kidding!” Azami was incredulous. “I didn’t teach him anything like that… Ah…” She facepalmed.

“Wait, does Shiro get a weapon?” asked Shiro, pointing to herself.

“I… guess not,” said Azami, looking bewildered to the now-empty conveyor belt.

“…” Celty pulled out her phone and began to type, darkness emanating from her black-gloved fingertips. She held up the phone, presenting the screen to them all. [I know I shouldn’t have a weapon. I already possess the capability to use shadows to my advantage.]

“What about you?” frowned Azami, looking to Takatsuki.

“Well, I can’t imagine why I wouldn’t get a weapon,” she mused, joining Celty by the conveyor belt and sitting upon it. She began kicking her legs back and forth, back and forth. “The only reason I can think of is that the pen is mightier than the sword!” She beamed, leaning back onto the palms of her hands. “I’m a writer, after all.”

“So, Shiro is Shiro,” said Shiro, pointing to herself. “Azami is Azami… Your… names… were…?”

“You can call me Eto, if you’d like,” smiled Takatsuki, smiling as though at some kind of inside joke.

Celty typed on her phone again. [You may call me Celty.]

“Celty and Eto! O~kay!” Shiro grinned wide. “Alright! Let’s do this! Yay! A game! I love games! They’re my favorite!”

Celty and Eto both looked at Azami, who could only shrug. “She’s always like that,” was her only explanation.


 

Ene the computer program, Touka Kirishima the ghoul, Kanade Tachibana the albino and possible android, and Riza Hawkeye the soldier all stood upon the blue circle outside the traditional style home that Izaya and Yato’s group had started out at. All of them looked at their group members; none of them recognized anyone else. “Well, I don’t know any of you,” remarked Ene, who kept turning around and trying to see herself, still unaccustomed to being in reality instead of trapped in the internet. The sleeves of her zipped-up dark blue jersey were longer than her arms, and she wore a black skirt. She still didn’t have her feet, her black-stockinged legs tapering off into glitchy nothingness. Shifting around in her hovering state, she found that she still lacked any form of sensation. Even if she saw the others’ hair stir, she felt no breeze. Disappointingly, she still felt only static.

“I think some kind of background information would be helpful,” stated Hawkeye seriously, stature stiff. Her blond hair was clipped at the back of her head, and she wore a blue uniform. “I am from the land of Amestris, and I serve in the Amestrian State Military as Lieutenant. I am well trained in the use of firearms. What about all of you?”

“I don’t remember geography well in the first place, but where’s Amestris?” asked Ene, tilting her head. She had neon blue hair with eyes to match – black headphones pulled her teal hair back, and it was tied into two high pigtails. Data features of the same color were on her cheeks. It was strange to her, not being able to just look Amestris up immediately.

“I don’t think it exists… at least not for my world,” said Kanade softly. She wore a school uniform of black, purple, and gold. “I was from Earth.”

“Me too!” exclaimed Ene.

“Same,” Touka affirmed bluntly, eyes closed. You could only make out one, however, as her violet hair was draped over her right eye. Her arms were crossed over her chest. She wore a white collared shirt, buttoned up to the top and covered by a black and blue jacket. She wore shorts and knee-height boots.

“Well, it looks like there’s some explaining to be had…,” said Hawkeye.

“Well, in my realm we have weird stuff like eye abilities and androids and computer viruses,” remarked Ene. “Like me!” she added with a grin.

“I come from a world filled with ghouls, which are… essentially humans,” Touka explained. “They have, uh, weapons that are natural organs for them… It’s hard to explain.”

“And I’m dead,” said Kanade, and they all looked at her. Kanade looked back at all of them with expressionless golden eyes.  She tilted her head slightly. “What? From what I remember, I had been in something like the afterlife… I suppose.”

“Well, it looks like all of us come from different backgrounds,” said Hawkeye, eyes closed. She was trying to put together how this would work out. “Alright, all of you, what kind of skills do you have?”

“Speed and agility,” Touka answered immediately. “I’m best with long-range. My weapon…I guess…you’ll see it when you need to.”

Hawkeye nodded. “And you?” she asked Ene.

“I have an arsenal of secret files my master doesn’t want people to see,” Ene said, giggling. “Normally I’m not out of a computer like this, but I guess…” She glided up into the air and spun around, shooting back down. “I guess I’ve got speed too – I’ll be the fastest player around; you bet!” She grinned wider. “What’s even better is that I won’t ever get tired in this body.”

The soldier nodded, impressed. “And Kanade?” asked Hawkeye, looking at the albino.

“I might still have my programmed abilities, if that person speaking earlier made that work, somehow…” Kanade looked at her hand, curious as to whether she could still perform her self-programmed abilities. “…Hand Sonic.” From the top of her hand, a blade began to emerge, glowing and materializing. “Well, I have this.” She allowed it to dissipate. “Having my Hand Sonic means I might be able to use other convenient things, like Distortion… Distortion allows me to deflect bullets and things like that away from myself.”

“Ooo!~” Ene hovered upside-down beside Kanade. “That’s real cool!”

“Ah, thank you… Your name is…Ene?”

“Yeah, that’s right! You’re Kanade?”

Kanade nodded.

“Right. Does everyone know each other’s names?” asked Hawkeye.

“Well, yours is pretty easy to remember,” Touka mumbled. “It’s Hawkeye, which is quirky enough as it is.”

“And you, you’re Touka!” Ene cried in delight. “We’re all gonna go, go, go, and make it outta here, c’mon guys!” She danced in the air as she cheered.

Kanade smiled ever so slightly, nodding her head.

As Ene continued to cheer, Touka only got more and more irate on the whole matter. She was already immensely freaked out about the fact that Akira, a CCG officer, knew that she was a ghoul now. Not to mention that was Akira Mado. And if Akira was related to the Mado that Touka had killed, the ghoul knew she was only in even deeper trouble. All of this was really just pissing her off…

“Come on, miss ghouly,” said Ene with pursed lips. “Chin up a bit.” The program couldn’t help but think that Touka reminded her at least a little bit of Kido.

As for Touka, for some reason Ene got on her nerves far more than anyone else of this level of cheer. There was nothing else to do, it seemed, except for growl at her and tell her to shut up. So, she did just that.

“Someone’s being grumpy! Look at that! Look, look! Acting that way around me isn’t gonna get you anywhere, you know~”

“I said shut up!

“Both of you stop fighting,” ordered Hawkeye. “I’m going to try and ensure we all make it out, but I’m not going to accept any internal fights, especially not over something so silly. If something happens, wait for my order. I won’t take any nonsense. Am I clear?”

“Yeeehp!” cried Ene, saluting. “Got it, Lieutenant!”

Turning to the house behind her, Hawkeye contemplated their options. “I guess first things first is to search this household. Always be on guard for enemies. Let’s go.”

Needless to say, they got off to a greater start than the Group 6 of the male game.


 

On the first day alone, there were two battles and three casualties.

Day one of this round of the Emina Games ended in fireworks of three colors: silver, gold, and green.

The game had consisted of twenty-four players from twelve different realms. In Group 1, there was the half moon Yuno, shining smile and long pink locks. Good intent but twisted mind, she was half-loving, half-insane, and throughout this game she would show the latter half. Though her worry for Yukiteru was genuine, she would stop at nothing to reach him. B-ko smiled with the face of a liar, the kind of girl who tied herself together with false shows of perfection. So long as her group was around, she’d try not to tremble too obviously. There was Hiyori, bent on trying to help everyone and even moreso determined to make it back to the friends that she knew were waiting for her return. These three had no idea that the ones they were striving to return to were to be placed in their own game not too long later. Then there was Bishamon, goddess of war who didn’t quite take this game seriously as of yet. In fact, she was more pissed with the fact that the runners of this game had not only separated her from her Shinki, but also had endangered many humans that didn’t need to get caught up in something so ridiculous.

All in all this group was one which strove to return to their loved ones.

For Group 2, there was Akira, who dearly wished to protect Saiko, another teammate. She didn’t know how anyone else was doing back home, but for now her priority was Saiko and her other group members. Compartmentalize feeling. Treat this like business. It was a mission. The goal: find the game masters. Then there was Ayano, who wished to take care of Kido, and Kido, who wished to protect Ayano now that she was around once more. Kido and Ayano both worried for their other two siblings, though Ayano also worried for a lot of things in the future that she had yet to understand. Saiko, in the meantime, had not been struck with the reality of the impending game.

This group was a group of defense; of protection.

Group 3: Maka was a Meister who needed to make it home to her own life – she had goals in her world that had yet to be accomplished. Nora was only a temporary weapon… Nora had her own intentions underlying that jaded smile of hers, doll-like face as sweet as ever. Rika was a child of many years, much knowledge hiding under the guise of her innocence. It was Rena who seemed more naïve, though both of them played ignorantly along with Maka and Nora.

This group, with Maka’s ability to sense the madness in others’ souls, was a group set on ridding this game of its violence-mongers.

Group 4: Reiko the parasite, emotionless and without motive. If anything, she wished to return to her home. Lust the Homunculus, set on creating as much chaos as possible through her manipulation, thought she may well find she’d enjoy this game. Minatsuki the prisoner and Deadman, though disappointed in the lack of males, was still excited to see the despairing faces of the other players. Minene the terrorist was disgruntled about the whole thing, wishing she could just get back to the battle royal she was already caught in within her world. At least the battle of the Future Diaries had a definite prize at the end: the winner became God of Time and Space.

This was an erratic group of chaos and destruction.

Group 5: Celty the Dullahan only wanted to go home to her friends, no more. Azami had had no motive; there was nothing to go back to as far as she was concerned. Though Shiro had been set on finding Ganta to protect him, she, as the Wretched Egg, now wished for them to fight to the death in her soon-activated, twisted form of her love. With a split personality, the Wretched Egg was certainly…less childish and more cruel – the origin of sin; the first Deadman. Eto was the puppet-master for this game as Izaya would be for the male game, and she was set on finding the game masters and voiding the game. She had a world to turn on its head when she got home. She didn’t have time for all this – she had books to write, a band of ghouls to run, people to control… Plans to execute.

This was a group of puppeteering; of manipulation.

Group 6: Ene, who knew she needed to make it back to Shintaro, yet who also was curious of the whole ‘Ayano’s in this game even though she’s supposed to be dead’ thing. She wanted to reconnect with her, find her, understand what had happened. Ayano, the reason for Shintaro’s hope. Ayano, the reason for his depression. Kanade was perplexed on the matter of being here because she herself was supposed to be in the afterlife. She speculated to herself that perhaps this was the afterlife, and all of them were already dead. But that couldn’t be, because there were people that she knew were dead too that simply weren’t around.  She had someone that she had yet to thank… So she knew that, if she could die again here, she needed to make it through. Touka just wanted to return to her realm and avoid Akira at all costs. She had things back home she needed to make up for. Hawkeye was in the middle of a crucial time for her country, and felt it was her duty to return home…not just for the people of Amestris, but also for her friends.

This was a group held back with something hanging over them that told them they could not die here. This was a group of unfinished business.

Welcome, now, to the Emina games.

 

Notes:

Double the games for double the fun, am I right?

Chapter 24: Ends, Ands

Chapter Text

 

At the end of the third day, the game between females came to an end. Out of twenty-four, nine of them had survived, and the game masters were waiting for them. In the process, one was subdued and defeated, making eight. These remaining eight were Akira Mado the CCG officer, Saiko Yonebayashi artificial half-ghoul CCG officer, Maka Albarn the Meister, Nora the Shinki of many names, Rika Furude the child, Minene Uryuu the terrorist, Celty Sturluson the Dullahan, and Touka Kirishima the ghoul.

The final showdown had been against Eto, the One-Eyed Owl, the infamous one-eyed ghoul of the Realm of Ghouls. Celty, Touka, Akira, and Maka with Nora all teamed up against her while Rika, Minene, and Saiko all tried to make it to the endpoint. The final blow against Eto came from a combo attack of all five of them at once. At last, she had fallen. It was Rika, Minene, and Saiko who saw the game master reveal themselves, smiling a casual and sly smile. His scalp was cleanly shaved, with a goatee that stretched around his mouth. “What’s up?” he inquired, eyebrows shooting up. His arms were crossed over his chest.

It was Minene who pounced, but the man, Durden, merely stepped to the side. Saiko held onto Rika closely, though it seemed like the younger wanted to try and help. Smirking, the terrorist was ready to blow herself up, if it meant taking this guy down with her…

“Hey, hey,” said Durden, holding his hands up. “That’s not going to get either of us anywhere. Completely uncalled for! In fact, you probably want to save that trick for when you meet all of us at once – I’m just one of the game masters, you know.”

Minene froze. Did he just use a plural form? There were more? “Fuck you!”

“Sorry, but the story’s nowhere near over yet,” Durden grinned, eyes shining with cold amusement. “We’re just getting to the fun part!”

“What.”

Congratulations!” the Voice resounded, but it wasn’t Durden speaking. He merely stood there, crossing his arms again with a satisfied smirk. As the dust from the debris cleared, it was easier to make out his dark hoodie and jeans. He looked to be in his thirties. “You’ve all reached the end of your game! Game two… start!”

Durden smiled at them. “Heavy metal,” he nodded, pleased.

None of them had any time to argue before they were transported away without any other explanation.


 

“…So my guess is that the girls are going to be showing up here…maybe tomorrow morning? The sun is setting now,” said Aureus, looking thoughtfully into the screens.

“Yu… er, is there, is there anyone else we know that survived?” asked Yukiteru.

Aureus shook his head. “Just the terrorist,” he answered with a shrug.

A-ya frowned slightly, tired red eyes narrowing in thought. “How many things can we ask you?”

“Depends; does that count as a question?” the golden-haired boy grinned, and A-ya and Yukiteru looked nervously to one another. Aureus laughed. “No, no – questions are unlimited.”

“Thank goodness,” Yukiteru sighed.

“Do we know anyone who has died in that game?” asked A-ya seriously, and Yukiteru stiffened. He didn’t want to know.

“Anyone you know… There’s a girl named B-ko – she was killed by Eto on the last day,” he said thoughtfully.

A-ya froze. B-ko? One of the others from their little club at school… His heart dropped into the pit of his stomach, and he suddenly longed for all that was ordinary. He didn’t think he’d mind being bored forever; he just wanted to go back… It was bad enough losing C-ta, but … Eyes wide and unseeing, he bowed his head.

Yukiteru was considering trying to hold his hand for support when Aureus pointed at him instead. “As for you, Yuno’s dead.”

“Y…Yuno?” Yukiteru repeated, incredulous. Yuno, the crazy, undefeatable Yuno? Yuno, his stalker? That Yuno? His heart seized in his chest. Why should I…be upset over losing someone… like that?

“Yep, Yuno. Pink-haired Yuno, like, stalker-like-C-ta, Yuno.”

“Like C-ta?” A-ya repeated with a lost voice.

“Sorry,” said Aureus. “Too soon?”

“Don’t talk so casual about people who have died!” Yukiteru snapped, blue eyes smoldering.

Aureus held up his hands in peace. “Sorry,” he whispered, grimacing. He peeked at them with one eye, and Yukiteru glowered at him. “Oo, crap, and you were really nice at first.” He lowered his hands. “Look, I’m sorry, but to me, this is all just a story,” he tried to explain.

“A story? What, do you have a God Complex, or something?!” Yukiteru cried.

“Do I really sound like that?” he asked with a pained look. “Jeez…” He rubbed at his head. “No, I’m just an Easter Egg, an items master, and the guy you’re allowed to ask anything. Hey… how about this?”

“What?” Yukiteru asked, eyes guarded.

“First of all, you guys still have your items you can pick. You still have the ‘dark-clad hero’ ability, the god-like powers thing, and the reset button. Along with that, because you found me, one of my obligations is to tell you guys where the other game masters are.”

A-ya stepped forward. “Oh?”

“Yep!” He gave them a double thumbs up, twisting his hands back and forth with a closed-eye grin. He then looked at them in all seriousness. “So, the other game masters – there are six others in all.”

Yukiteru paled. “Six?” he repeated.

“Don’t worry; don’t worry! Not all of them are bad! I mean, some of them are jerks, like Muse, for example…” He trailed off, frowning with thin lips into the distance.

“…Muse?” A-ya repeated, and Aureus waved him off.

“Anyway,” he continued, “not all of them are in support the game, y’know? Some of them are against it, in fact. I’m very conflicted about all of this, myself, but… eh.” He shrugged. “Perspective.”

“And if we find them, we can end the game?” asked Yukiteru.

“That’s right,” Aureus confirmed.

“What are the prizes at the end, then?” asked A-ya, and Yukiteru straightened.

“Yeah! Will we go home, or…?”

Aureus shrugged and gave that lazy ‘I’unno’ again. “I am, however, allowed to tell you everything I do know.”

Both of them nodded, listening intently.

Aureus smiled. “Okay!” He clapped his hands, then rubbed them together in preparation. “You are a part of the Emina Games, run by seven game masters in all, including me. The one you need to reach in order to end the game is Muse. In the female game, they’ve already figured out that they need to reach the control center, which is what they’re raiding right now. For them, it was a woman named Celty who found me, and I told her everything just like I’m telling you now. I’m still kinda impressed that she refused my offer to give her her head back…”

Yukiteru furrowed his brow, somewhat frightened that this person didn't have her head in the first place. “What?”

“So the control center,” Aureus continued, ignoring Yukiteru, “is in the highest tower of the city. That’s where you’ll find them. The only way to get in is underground – I’ve gotta tell you that because, well, I didn’t tell Celty and then the terrorist girl – Minene? – she kinda blew the whole thing up, which didn’t help anyone, so…” He shook his head. “Not-so-well played. Anyway. So that ultimate showdown that just went on earlier; that’s a huge turning point. That makes eleven dead for your game, which means more people are gonna start coming in once one more dies. Sometime tomorrow morning, I bet, each group is going to be given a choice: heal their remaining members, or acquire one new team member for each one that has fallen. Because of me, you can get a little more time to think on that choice. You’re also the only ones who know that soon after that, all of the females are gonna be showing up. They won’t come into your game with full health; they’re going to be coming in with whatever stats they have at the end of their game. I think Rainbow and Greyson will be the ones determining where they show up, which means that you guys are probably going to be with Minene and… uh… Rika. You guys didn’t know the kid, but she knew Keiichi, so that’s why she might show up as a part of your group.”

“How strong are they?” asked A-ya.

“Minene’s pretty impressive… I mean, she’s a terrorist, so.” He shrugged. “And Rika’s just a kid. A scary smart kid, but just a kid. Seriously scary smart though. Oogh.” He shuddered.

“Can we have any idea who we might get if we get the new recruits?” asked Yukiteru tentatively.

“Mm, I couldn’t say, but if I were to guess, I’d have to tell you that you wouldn’t know either of them. Keep in mind, too, that the ultimate goal is to reach the control center… Unfortunately, everyone in-game has to approach at the same time, so you’ve got to get everyone on the playing field to cooperate. If it’s someone like Kuroha, who definitely won’t agree to a group effort, they’ve gotta get killed before you head in, unless you somehow manage to convince them to work with you. Good luck with that. Let’s see, is there anything else…? Oh, so after the decision is made by every group whether they want to heal or replenish, all of the special items points will be reset. So… if there are any spots you’ve already been to, you can head there again and they’ll still work for you.”

Both of them took in this information. “Can we… ask about the weaknesses of the other players?” inquired A-ya.

“Yep,” the items master grinned, “but I can only tell you about the players in-game right now.”

A-ya nodded. “Alright then,” said Yukiteru, and Aureus nodded, spinning around in his swivel chair to riffle through some papers on his desk attached to the wall.

“Let’s see here… Okay, so for Group 1 we only have Kaneki – the albino half-ghoul – and Shirazu – the orange-haired one – left. Kaneki’s weakness is that the longer he doesn’t eat, the weaker he’ll get – it also makes him more unstable, so that’s… bad. He hasn’t eaten since before this game, unless you count the hunks he took out of Tsukiyama, Shinichi, and Seidou. There’s a spot on his back a bit above his tailbone that’s a great weak spot… Uh…” Aureus squinted at the page. “…Yeah. He also feels a need to protect everyone, so that can be a problem, too. Shirazu’s weakness is that he can only do short-range instead of long-range, for the most part. He’s not as strong as Kaneki, though, so that’s cool. I severely underestimated the guy,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his head.

“Anyway, so Group 2 still has Seidou, Shintaro, and Roppi. Seidou – he’s got the crossbow and the piece of hair sticking up – his main weakness is that he can’t do short-range as well as he can do long-range. His low underestimation of himself stunts his abilities too – really bothers me… Shintaro has something similar going on, but his main weakness is that his physical ability sucks. He’s the guy with the red jersey. Be careful, though, since he is smart… Roppi’s the scary one with the black hair and red eyes… Wait.” He looked at A-ya (with his black hair and red eyes) sheepishly while Yukiteru furrowed his brow. “Right, well, creepier than you, I mean. That sounded bad. But he’s the one with the red-fringed jacket? Um. His weakness is mainly that he couldn’t care less about himself, so he’s more likely to do stupid stuff.

“Group 3 only has A-ya and… Yuki…teru.” He looked at them, then back at the page. “Group 4’s got Shinichi and Ciel left. You know them, though.”

“Sebastian was defeated?” A-ya asked, incredulous.

“Yes, by Yato the god guy.”

“Migi too?” Yukiteru asked worriedly.

“Yes, by Kuroha, that snake jerk. Shinichi’s weakness is that, well, he doesn’t have his right hand man anymore…” He made a sad frown for a moment before continuing. “For Ciel, he’s just pretty weak without his butler in general.

“Group 5 has Kuroha the snake jerk and Tsukiyama… the dramatic—purple one. Kuroha’s weakness is that he can’t survive a strong enough blow to the head, and his injuries right now are really slowing him down. Tsukiyama’s weakness is the same as Kaneki’s: he needs to eat. Also, Kaneki is a major distraction for him – if they’re in the same fight and something happens to Kaneki, Tsukiyama’s open to get attacked.

“Group 6 has Izaya the guy with the Eskimo jacket and Yato the god left. Yato can’t do much without his weapon, not to mention he’s practically dead on his feet right now because of how much energy he’s expended… Yato…” Aureus closed his eyes and shook his head. “I really underestimated him. Izaya’s weakness is that he really only has his manipulation of other players and a switchblade on his side. He’s skilled with his knife and he’s great at dodging, but most of his goals are attained through other people.”

“Who has alliances with who right now?” asked A-ya.

“Right now, Group 1 with Kaneki and Shirazu and Group 2 with Seidou, Shintaro, and Roppi are in an alliance. Group 6 was allied with them, but I don’t know about now… Kinda like I’m really not sure about you guys and Group 4.”

A-ya nodded. “Who would be the best to ally ourselves with?”

“Well, that’s all perspective,” Aureus mused, “but I can give my own opinion if you want.”

“Please,” Yukiteru nodded.

“I think that Shinichi is the best guy to be with… or at least, he was. Even without Migi he’s pretty strong, but even though I’m pretty sure he’d still take care of everyone around him, I don’t know how he’s doing in the head right now, so it’s tough to tell whether he’s the best option… So, either him and Ciel, or a double alliance with Groups 1 and 2 – everyone’s good-natured there, except maybe for Roppi… I’m still trying to figure that guy out. Plus, they’ve got more people, and numbers are good.”

“Is it possible for us to attain our ultimate objects of the dark-clad hero and the god abilities without activating them yet?” asked A-ya.

Aureus blinked. “Hm. Yeah, sure; if you want.”

“Are there any side effects of these abilities that we should know about?”

“Well, A-ya might get cat ears, I think,” Aureus said thoughtfully, earning confused looks from both of them. “Don’t ask me,” he said defensively, holding up his hands. “And anyway, other than that…” He thought on this. “…Don’t get corrupt with power, you two.”

A-ya nodded. “Makes sense.”

“Not the cat ears, though,” Yukiteru frowned.

“No, those don’t make sense,” A-ya conceded, looking away. That most certainly had never been a childhood wish of his… No, not at all… He cleared his throat.

“Now, I have a question,” Yukiteru said firmly. “What is the point of this game? Was A-ya right; is it fake? Why is any of this happening?”

Aureus only smiled, touching the tip of his index finger to the tip of his nose. “That’s a secret,” he said childishly. “But!” He spun around again, only to spin back with two softly-glowing stones, one orange and one red. “The orange one is for Yukiteru, and the red one is for A-ya. Do you still want your extra-special items?” he beamed.

“…Yeah,” said A-ya, reaching for his own and pocketing it in his black hoodie. Yukiteru put his in the pocket of his shorts.

“Keep in mind I don’t know if these are a permanent deal. They might have some symbolic limitations that can shut them off once they’re activated,” Aureus warned. “I’m not sure on that, so be careful.”

“Thanks,” said Yukiteru, while A-ya nodded.

“They’re like… an invincibility star in Mario!” said the items master.

“Oh, yeah, okay!” chirped Yukiteru, brightening. A-ya blinked.

“…But you’re not invincible,” he added.

“Oh. Yeah. Well, right.”

A-ya sighed. “Yukiteru, is there anything else you think we need to ask?”

“Huh? Uh, I don’t know…” Yukiteru frowned a bit, looking down. “Do you… I mean, Aureus, who—killed Yuno?”

“Yuno…,” Aureus sighed. “She was scary…

“No kidding,” Yukiteru agreed nervously, rubbing at his arm. “So—how’d she actually die?”

“Granted, she was badass – managed to kill an android person on her own. Yuno was killed by a girl named Maka – she might be coming to your game, actually. The only reason she killed Yuno, in fact, was because Maka can sense when people are crazy, I guess, so she just kinda…” He made a clicking sound with his throat while bringing his thumb across his neck.

“Sounds accurate…,” Yukiteru responded, looking downwards.

“Come to think of it, she and B-ko were in the same group,” Aureus remarked, putting a hand to his chin. “Well… anyway… I hope you two make it out alright,” he beamed his goofy grin. From here he began to rock his arms back and forth as he had in the beginning of their encounter. “I’m gonna make sure you guys aren’t ambushed anywhere near this area, and I’m gonna try and give my own input on those special items pillars for you guys, and I’m gonna keep watching the game, and it’s gonna be a good time…” He stopped rocking his arms, looked at them, then grinned, waggling them quickly back and forth for a moment before getting to his feet. “And by the way, you’re not allowed to communicate to anyone about me, or about this place. Players in-game have to find me for themselves. If you pass any kind of information about me or this place…” He glanced back at the screens. “It’s not like I won’t know. Don’t do it. Or I will eat you.” A pause. “No? No? Fine, well, not really, but don’t do it.” He eyed them, getting an odd glint in those orbs as his smile dissipated. The air seemed to chill, if slightly. “And that’s something I am serious about.”

A-ya’s mouth twitched as he took an unconscious half-step backwards.

“…Not that I’m not serious about everything I just said,” Aureus added, returning to his original demeanor. “Hi!”

Yukiteru gave A-ya a nervous glance.

“So… so… so…” He paused. “Good luck, guys!” He beamed. “Yu-ki-te-ru, don’t go too far. A-ya… Just… good luck, man, this game has been a wreck. I like you, too. I wish I could take care of you, but…” – he pouted – “…I can’t.”

“It’s…fine,” said A-ya, shifting. “Thanks for all your answers, and for the items…”

“Yeah!” Yukiteru bowed. “Th…thank you very much, Aureus.” When he straightened up again, there was the fire of determination burning in his eyes. “We’ll do our best, I promise!”

“Cool,” Aureus answered, smile stretching his mouth as he waggled two thumbs-ups in front of him again. “Bye!” he yipped, plopping himself back onto his chair as they exited the room. He waved as they shut the wooden door behind them.

 

Chapter 25: Blame

Chapter Text

 

Groups 1 and 2 had found their refuge in a five-story office building. Shirazu had gathered up some pillows and blankets, and Seidou had gathered up some provisions only to come back and find that Shintaro had found some in the lounging area. Seidou had also found some ammo that would have worked for Roppi’s machine gun, but that had been rendered useless by Kuroha when the snake had twisted it in half. Because of this the weapon had been left on the battlefield.

Roppi had been unresponsive despite everyone’s efforts. If anyone got too close, he’d give them a piercing glare, but that was as far as things went. Everyone let him alone, figuring that that was obviously what he wanted. Seidou gave something like an apology to him for not saving Tsuki, but it received no answer – not even a glance.

Shirazu asked Kaneki about it, but the albino only shook his head. Kaneki had seen the reason Roppi was defensive about others seeing his arms – it was the main reason he had asked Kaneki to help him with his broken bones in another room. Many scars, ranging from pale white to fresher pink. Red. Roppi self-harmed – he was already in a difficult enough battle raging through his own head; in his soul. And Tsuki had probably been something like his hope. Now Tsuki was gone, and…

As when Delic had died, Kaneki compared it to how he might feel if he were to lose his own closest friend: Hide…

As was a vicious cycle in Kaneki’s life, the half-ghoul fell into self-blame. For Tsuki. For Delic. For Psyche.

Seidou tried to stop his circling, pulling him to the side when it was getting late and the sun had set. “Kaneki, you’re seriously blaming yourself too much…”

“There are certain things I am responsible for,” Kaneki answered the CCG officer, eyes closed. They stood on a small balcony – the full moon was on the rise and the stars were gorgeous. Though they were in the city, none of the lights were on. They had refrained from using any light themselves so as to be inconspicuous.

“Responsibility is different from guilt,” Seidou frowned, looking at the street below with festering eyes. They were on the fifth and top floor. He thought about his conversation with Roppi when his group had had its first confrontation and Sebastian had nearly killed him. Roppi hadn’t let him take blame or apologize, but there was no argument for responsibility. What was the difference, in the end? Learning from your mistakes? No, maybe it was just accepting the fact that as humans, we all make mistakes…

Don’t you dare say those exact words, Seidou, he thought to himself, wanting to hit himself over the head. He’s not completely human, remember…? Why do I keep forgetting, anyway… “Do you remember when Delic died?” Seidou said tentatively. “We all felt terrible. But… at the same time, it wasn’t any of our faults. You tried to take responsibility there too, but it didn’t change that everyone felt just as bad… It was only Shirazu that said otherwise, and in a way, that is a good way to think: it wasn’t any of us that let Tsuki or Psyche die… you know? None of us wanted it to happen, and all of us tried our best to keep everyone safe. Who was the one with ill intent, though, but the ones who killed them? It was Kuroha; it was Sebastian. And we should just leave it at that…”

“We lose people close to us…” said Kaneki lowly, “…due to a lack of ability. If we are too weak, it is for that reason that our loved ones perish. In that sense… it’s very much our faults.”

Seidou gazed at him – his white hair and pale skin seemed to glow in the moonlight. Somehow, the beauty of the moon, though it highlighted Kaneki’s pained self, did not seem to make this moment with him any more vivid. On the contrary, it almost seemed as though the half-ghoul were transparent. He really is like a ghost… What did this guy go through, I wonder…? Seidou looked away. “I’m coming to find the meanings and blames get all twisted, no matter what I think. If I’m trying to be a hero, then I should be able to save everyone too, right? It wasn’t even you who was on post with either of them – I was right next to both of them when they were killed. And me? I was scared out of my mind – I couldn’t accomplish anything until it was too late. So your logic also states that I, well, I really suck. And, I mean… I believe it, too.” He paused, feeling his conflicting emotions and his own incompetence writhing within himself. “I… even though I’m a CCG officer and all, I really am only a Rank 2. I’ve never been in any serious battles or anything… and until this game, none of my teammates have ever died in battle.” He swallowed. “Not to mention… suddenly I’m a leader, too? I act like I’m confident, and I picked the title for myself, but really…”

“…But really, neither of us feel like we’re good enough,” said Kaneki, giving Seidou a gentle smile. Seidou blinked at him, staring. “It’s okay, I understand you… You aren’t to blame, Seidou.”

“But can you say that for yourself?” Seidou shot back. Kaneki didn’t answer. The CCG officer looked up at the sky. “What I’m thinking is…is that maybe, on battlegrounds like these…where it’s so hard to tell whose fault it is in any instance… I’m thinking maybe it really isn’t anyone’s fault, because everything’s reversible. Even if I say it’s Kuroha’s fault or Sebastian’s fault, I’ll have my points even though there are reasons that you and I are to blame. For the same reason, though, it’s everyone’s fault. We all share a little bit of the blame, even though we all tried our best. It’s strange… Everyone is to blame; no one is to blame… You know?”

“Nobody’s fault,” Kaneki seemed to agree, eyes distant. “Everybody’s. ‘The boy was explaining things to an absent judge. It wasn’t to defend himself. The boy recognized his own guilt and wanted only to lay out the full causes.’ Tim O’Brien.”

“…Huh?” Seidou looked at him, admittedly confused.

“Nothing,” the half-ghoul waved him off. “I don’t really want to talk to anyone right now, actually… I’d prefer that nobody come to my space until it’s my shift to be on watch.” His grey eyes didn’t meet Seidou’s own brown ones.

“But—wait, what did you even just—?” Seidou huffed. “You can’t just leave me without explanation, now…!”

Kaneki turned away. “If you could… could you apologize again to Shirazu for me…? I…”

Seidou stared at his back, disarmed by the request. It was strange remembering the way Kaneki was at that point in time as compared to now… For him to stab Shirazu; it just didn’t make sense, did it? What was Kaneki’s true nature, after all? “I mean… Yeah, of course, but…”

“Thank you.” And he walked inside, leaving Seidou to his own confused and conflicted thoughts.

Sighing, the officer leaned on the railing with his forearms and looked out on the city below. “Is this…” he mumbled to himself, “what survivor’s guilt feels like…?”

A floor below, Roppi lay curled in the corner without a blanket – he refused any offers for one. He was facing the wall, red eyes not smoldering as they usually were. Just—dull. Dead. Ashes, ashes, we all fall…

Shintaro approached. Roppi could hear someone’s footsteps, but did not react, hoping they’d go away.

The hikkiNEET clenched and unclenched his hands, taking a deep breath. He’d never been good with this. “Hey, Roppi—”

“Go away,” Roppi cut him off, and Shintaro swallowed. What could he even say? Drawing his lips into a thin line, Shintaro sat down next to Roppi’s head, leaning against the wall perpendicular to the one Roppi was facing, lying on the floor.

“…Sorry, I get—that I’m going to bother you a lot sticking around, but… I feel like I’ve really got to right now,” Shintaro said to him, toying with his fingers.

“Why.” The question sounded like a statement, blunt and harsh.

“Because… well, because I get it, this time,” said Shintaro clenching up his hand into a fist. He had one foot against the ground, leg curled almost to his chest. The other leg was spread out in front of him. His khaki pants were tarnished with dirt and rips from the game. As long as his red jersey remained intact, though, he felt like it would be okay.

“I doubt it,” Roppi snipped at him. “I don’t want sympathy. Leave me alone.”

“I bet,” said Shintaro, head bowed, “you want to go to your room right now, and close the door. I bet you want to lock it and never come out again – never have to deal with this nasty world again.”

“Your point?”

“Well, that’s what I did… for two years, in fact…”

“I already know that you’re a pathetic drop-out that spends all of his time on the internet, avoiding real contact,” Roppi spat, sitting up and turning to him. “At least I’m less of a degenerate than you.” Shintaro winced at the insults, and paused. Roppi leaned his side on the other wall, eyes glaring at nothing. “I don’t need false reassurances from you. Be quiet.”

“Well…,” Shintaro began, then stopped.

There was a pause. “‘Well,’ what? Anything profound to say?” Roppi’s tone was bitter.

“…I dropped out, kind of as a punishment for myself, you see… I shut myself up in my room kind of as an imprisonment. I was guilty—I…still am.”

“Of what?” Roppi turned to him. His words bit at the shut-in, but Shintaro continued regardless.

“I… I, um…” Shintaro bowed his head, shoulders tense. “I used to be…quite the cruel and callous fool, you know… I was cold and calculating; I pushed everyone away because I… I hated everyone I met. There was no one in the world I thought was worth liking… And then… I met my first ‘friend.’ This person… they weren’t the smartest, and they were very clumsy about everything, but they tried their best to cheer me up, even though I acted like it didn’t work. They wore this ridiculous red scarf, even in the summer. But… despite my dislike of the world and everyone in it, they awkwardly made their attempt at showing me what ‘happiness’ was. Even though they did help me feel better, though… I still continued to push them away, as stupid as that is… And then…”

Roppi actually looked at him directly, eyes showing he didn’t quite know how to take this. He almost looked frightened.

Shintaro was almost hunched forward as he spoke, but it was here that he began to smile. “…Her name was Ayano, and she… was the first person that could ever break through my cruel exterior. Despite how I treated her, she still believed that I could become a better person.” He looked at Roppi with a pained expression. “She killed herself, Roppi. She killed herself, and it’s all my fault. I was the one who had pushed her that far… Yet, she had still believed in me.” He smiled ironically, eyes shining in the muted moonlight, fighting its way through the drawn shades of the window. The tears fell. “I bet, right now, Tsuki believes in you, too. Even though I was cruel, and you’re not the best of people, either… You still treated Tsuki more softly than you did anyone else – I noticed. Truthfully, he made me think of her, and I bet… just like Ayano was my hero, he was yours, wasn’t he? And that’s why…” He lowered his head, trembling. “That’s why—I… I understand, Roppi… I… I’m so sorry—that this had—to happen; I—I never wanted for anyone to… to have to go through anything—anything like that… The—the best of people… always, always are taken—too soon…” By then Shintaro had dissolved into a shaking mess, just barely holding himself together well enough not to break into sobs.

Roppi gazed at him – to think, he might actually understand better than he’d given him credit for… And yet Roppi could still only feel that rotten bitterness, rooted in his torso like a gnarled tree ready to die, eating away at him from the inside. “At least it wasn’t my fault that Tsuki died,” he said, and somewhere he knew that he was foolishly lashing out, but right then, he didn’t care. “You said it yourself – you pushed her over the edge, didn’t you?” Shintaro could only stare with wide grey eyes, appalled. “Tsuki didn’t die for any rhyme or reason. His death was pointless and in vain. He died for nothing. Ayano just paid a pretty price for trying to help someone like you.” Roppi’s mouth twisted into something like a smile. “Yeah, you’re right – maybe Tsuki did believe in me, but now he’s dead. And for what purpose? I think I would have been better off if Sebastian had come out of nowhere and killed you, who already has that blood on your hands.”

“…” Shintaro opened his mouth, and closed it again. “…Yeah.” Slowly, he got to his feet. His voice was faint, low. “It’s not… the first time.” For Shintaro, his only three friends had disappeared with him as the sole survivor. Why he, the guilty one, should be the one to live, he didn’t know. But to him, Roppi was absolutely right, and just as it was back then, he felt as though death had taken the wrong person. He was way overdue, wasn’t he? I hate being the last one standing. Turning, Shintaro began to leave. “It really would have been better that way, Roppi. It really would have been.”


 

“It’s all rather pathetic, you know,” said Ciel, gazing at Shinichi with disgust as the teen sat hunched forward with his back against the side of one of the beds. “Isn’t it ironic?”

Shinichi looked at him with cold eyes. Ciel had taken a rest as Shinichi had hoped, but then Shinichi hadn’t been able to keep himself together any longer. Much of the glass downstairs was now as shattered as he felt. His emotion had come roaring back into full, vivid clarity, and Migi wasn’t around to calm him down. For now it had emerged in a cold fire of raging fury for the loss of Migi – a lust for vengeance filled him to his very core. “If there’s something amazing about you, Shinichi, it is the way you’re able to calm yourself that way, no matter the circumstance. Even if your friends are dying around you, you are able to turn it off. It’s rather impressive.” But that didn’t seem to be working right now.

“…What’s ironic?” asked Shinichi, turning his eyes away from the young earl.

“Laughable,” Ciel scoffed, and somewhere in Shinichi, he found he was glad a bit of the Ciel he knew was shining through again. “I had thought that Migi was the parasite, and yet it seems as though it’s you who can’t live without him.”

Shinichi’s eyes widened, and he blinked. “I… You might be right…”

“Of course I’m right,” Ciel sniffed. “Are you even human?”

“I don’t know,” Shinichi answered honestly, tone hollow.

Ciel eyed him with a cold eye of his own. “Perhaps that’s not such a bad thing, if you can manage to be self-reliant. Humans are terrible creatures – to be parasitic is a characteristic of human nature.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “In essence, I believe that humans are more demonic than demons themselves are. Sebastian had said that a game as ridiculous and brutal as this is something that only humans could come up with. Humans are beings you can’t trust; the only one I trust fully is Sebastian, and so…”

“…Migi said the same thing about humans,” Shinichi said darkly. “He read up on demons and remarked to me that really, they just sounded like human beings. But…” Shinichi lifted his head and gazed at the earl, though Ciel wasn’t looking at him any longer, but off to the side. “…Even without Migi, and even without Sebastian, I am going to take care of you – I swear on that. I may not be a demon, but of my own will I’ll protect you. I will make sure that you at least make it out of this game.” He gave the child a lopsided smile, eyes warming.

Ciel stared at him wide-eyed for a moment before turning away with a bitter expression. “We shall see about that…”


 

The moon was almost at its peak when Yato began to stir. Izaya was kneeling nearby, looking through his information papers in the moonlight and crossing out the names of the players Izaya knew were dead. “Hmm?” The informant looked at the lesser god as he sat up slowly in the darkness, hair shrouding his eyes.

“Yukine, is…” He spoke slowly.

“Yes, dead,” Izaya confirmed dismissively. “As is Shizuo.” There was a scratching sound as he scribbled out Sebastian’s name.

Yato shifted slightly. “…Oh.”

“Yes, the good news is that one of the two demons is dead thanks to you and Yukine – now there’s only Kuroha to worry about. After I jabbed at Yoh, I took his sword.” He laid his hand over the hilt of it; it was lying beside him. “There’s still a chance to make that alliance and shut down the game, though that Roppi character is undoubtedly going to give me a rough time. Even without Yukine, we can still get through the game and find the ‘puppeteers.’ We won’t let them get the best of us; I’m set on that. Once we make it to the end, we’ll—”

“What’s the point?”

Izaya looked at Yato. “Hah? Without Yukine?” He smiled. “You’re a god, and he was your tool, in the most basic form, right? You shouldn’t let his presence or loss control you, or else who would be the real master—?”

I found him!” Yato snapped, and then his voice got quiet again. “He was my lost soul to nurture and take care of. He’s really important to me… He was—he was—he was like…”

“Well, it is true that he died trying to protect you,” Izaya conceded, hand to his chin.

“It wouldn’t be the first time that a Shinki died because of me…,” Yato whispered, forlorn. “All I bring… is calamity. It’s—what’s fated to surround me… no matter what…”

“I’m sure that if you’d done more,” Izaya smiled, “he’d be fine. Besides, shouldn’t you keep going for the sake of Yukine’s memory? Hm? After that, you should at least pay some respect, hah? I’m sure… that he thought of you like a father.”

Yato stared at Izaya in shock, as though he’d been slapped square in the face. “I…”

“And I’m sure that it feels just terrible to lose someone you feel responsible for,” Izaya added, casually leaning on the palms of his hands. “Luckily, the one who did it has paid his price. I may not have killed Yoh, but Kuroha surely won’t keep him alive for long with an injury like the one I gave him…”

“Yoh… the one, who…” Yato bowed his head. “You, responded faster than I…” He faded out, then was silent.

“For his sake, shouldn’t we continue?” Izaya inquired. “He was a determined boy; he believed in you, you know. It would be a waste to deny the wishes of that memory, wouldn’t you say? He started growing on me, too, and I don’t want my time spent with him to be wasted, either… It’s as though you think I’m not hurting over all of this, myself.” As if to accentuate this, Izaya put a hand over his heart.

“Bullshit,” Yato said lowly, gazing at Izaya with glowing blue eyes through the dark. His pupils were slits.

“…Hah?”

“You knew, didn’t you?” Yato stood, and Izaya watched from the floor, sitting up a bit with his hand securely gripping his switchblade in his pocket out of instinct. “You knew that Yoh was lying about wanting to pay his respects to Shizuo. You knew exactly what Yoh was planning – and you waited until too late to strike.” Yato took a step forward. The air was static. His eyes emanated through the black, matching the moonlight Izaya sat in. “You let Yukine die.” The god’s tone was ice.

Izaya looked hurt. “I would never—” Before Izaya could even comprehend the movement, he was against the wall, held there by the collar of his V-neck shirt, legs dangling beneath him. Half-grimacing, half-smiling, Izaya looked at Yato with one open eye.

“Liar,” Yato said lowly. “Shizuo had already sacrificed himself for you, Izaya, and despite all the talk of hate, you felt terrible about it, didn’t you?” Any form of smile on Izaya’s features dropped. “But you couldn’t handle the idea of feeling guilty over something like that, so you had to create the same feeling for me, didn’t you? You wanted me to feel just as guilty, didn’t you?”

“No matter what you think of my intentions,” Izaya answered, just as cold, “I am still your teammate, and it wasn’t I who killed Yukine – no, not even Yoh. It was on Kuroha’s order, I’m sure, so wouldn’t it be best to continue on working together to defeat that monster? Even without Yukine, you still have Hiyori to return to, don’t you?”

Yato paused, lowering Izaya to his feet again. His hand still gripped at the informant’s shirt. “What if…she’s forgotten me by now?” he asked softly.

“All the more reason to hurry up.” Izaya put his hands on Yato’s, gripping at his clothing, and Yato looked from his hand to Izaya. The informant was gazing at the god with a direct stare. “I get it, Yato-kun. I’m a monster, and in all likelihood, you are too, aren’t you? We’re one and the same, right?”

Yato released his shirt, lowering his arm. There was a pause, the silence thick. Then Yato struck him with a sudden right hook, sending Izaya across the room and into a sliding door, consequently tearing it and destroying it. Izaya sat up, annoyed and rubbing at his chin. “You deserved that,” Yato said flatly.

Strangely, Izaya began to laugh. “Yeah, well, I probably did. But nothing’s going to change the fact that both of them are dead… And I, for one… now, now I can say I’m fighting both for myself and for Shizuo’s memory.” He stood, if slightly staggering in the process. “I’m not that cold… for the most part.”

Yato lowered his head. “I’m sorry, Izaya,” he said in a lost voice, weak and vulnerable. Izaya couldn’t help but think about how human this god was… Interesting. Yato paused. “…Shizuo was right, you know.”

“Hm?” Izaya’s brow furrowed ever so slightly.

“You do have a soul… I’m a god. I know.” He lifted his head, and Izaya could see his face again, eyes glazed and expression half-illuminated by the cool light of the night. “It means that you don’t have as much power as you’d like to – it means you will be judged after you die… It means… you’re human, Izaya. But you are right… I do want to make it out of here; I don’t want to die. I want to make it back to Hiyori, and even if she has forgotten me, I’ll get her to remember…somehow. And if not, then I’ll make sure that our fates become intertwined once more, because there’s no way I’m losing both of them… And as for Yukine, well… I want to make his memory worth it. So yeah, I’ll still fight alongside you and protect you when I need to… we are a team, after all. And it’s not like I was the only one who suffered losses… But remember.” He looked at the informant, putting a hand on his shoulder. Izaya blinked at him with comical bemusement. “You may be human, and we are a team, but that doesn’t change the fact that—well, you’re kind of an asshole.”

Izaya stared, then began to snicker. “I’m hurt – couldn’t I at least be something a little more professional – a selfish machine, maybe? A liar; a manipulator? No?”

“Nah, just an asshole,” Yato sighed. “But now, I think I’m gonna go back to bed… We’ll…figure stuff out. Just… not tonight.” His hand slid from Izaya’s shoulder and the bright, sharp cerulean that had pierced the midnight just minutes before had slumped into a dark blue, slow-moving and heavy. The god turned to walk to one of the bedrooms to lay on an actual bed. “I really, really wish I had some sake… Nnngh…”

“Goodnight, Yato-kun,” Izaya waved, but Yato gave no response, only continued to the bedroom to crash. Alone again, Izaya sighed lightly and looked at the now-broken door he’d been thrown into. Yato had said some things to think about, that was for sure.

 

Chapter 26: Justice

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

 

“Gourmet, we are at a crossroads,” Kuroha had said that evening as the sun made the sky purple. Tsukiyama had listened, eyes distracted. “The time is at hand for you to make your choice, wouldn’t you agree? I may have my ego, but I am no fool. You haven’t liked me from the start – so…I’d like to come to an understanding, here.” Tsukiyama’s violet eyes turned to him, though they were darkened with the thoughts turning over and over again in his head. “I will allow you this choice,” the demon smiled, eyes glowing golden. “From the beginning, you have considered betraying me – now Yoh is gone and it is only you and I left in this group. In all respects, now is the best time to turn your back. Right now is your best chance to succeed in your betrayal. However… I’ve thought things all the way through already, and your first option is to turn against me, in which case I will easily kill you. The only way you might have a chance at that is if you had the element of surprise, and obviously that’s null and void.

“The second choice is this: you run instead of attack. Find that centipede boy and join his group. I will follow you in that case, and both of us surely realize that my presence will endanger him, and you don’t want that.

“Then there is the third: you and I continue to work alongside one another, with me directing our actions the whole way. In exchange for being less of a nuisance to me, you may continue to protect your centipede friend, and I will no longer do anything to physically harm him or his group. I can’t make any such promises for the group they are allied with, but that in itself is a pretty hefty offer from someone such as myself. Keep in mind that if you choose this option, I will be keeping a very close eye on you throughout the rest of this game, so the option of later betrayal after lulling me into a false sense of security due to any melodramatic shows of loyalty performed by yourself… is also unlikely, if impossible.”

“You must also understand, Monsieur,” Tsukiyama responded, eye narrowed (the other was still injured because of Yukiteru’s dart), “that under the premises of the third option… Why, what makes you think that I could possibly trust you? If we’re being completely ehrlich here… Honest, that is—you’ve just killed Yoh, your own teammate.”

“That pickpocket was only a nuisance to the group,” Kuroha answered coolly. “After he was injured as he was, there was no question that he had to be killed. There was no way for him to recover quickly enough for him to be of any use to either of us. You haven’t eaten, yourself, and you need sustenance, unlike me. Though you attempted to eat the Bleeding Heart, you never did finish that meal because you didn’t like the flavor… isn’t that so?”

Tsukiyama scowled at him, eyes burning.

“I thought it was the best option for both of us to have him killed. Now you can have food, and in my perspective, it’s one less person to drag us down; one less nuisance that might try to stab me in the back…not that he’d succeed anyway.” Kuroha smirked. “Don’t misunderstand, Gourmet – the deceiver did have his perks. It was him, after all, that got rid of the holy weapon – a ‘Shinki,’ wasn’t it? It came with a price; that’s all. You should know better than anyone else that was in this group that life alone has no real worth.” His eyes glimmered with cold glee. “Like me, you are a monster, isn’t that right? From your reality, it’s called a being a ‘ghoul.’ You are no human… So you should understand that human lives are inconsequential to us. You don’t have to revel in the tragedy – you just have to know that those everyday lives are far beneath us…” Kuroha paused. “However, unlike me, you are intensely emotional, and highly driven by your foolish passions… well, pardon me. If anything about you is human, it’s that. No matter what you say or how you argue, you have a connection to Centipede that stands apart from those monstrous ideologies of yours. It’s this that has softened your blade. It has made you weak.”

Tsukiyama closed his eye, chest burning and mind flaring with arguments and retorts. He smartly held his tongue. He thought of the cold clarity in Touka Kirishima’s eyes when he fought her a few years before all of this. She had been on-par with him at that time – they were even, head-to-head. Then time passed and she grew soft – she learned to love; she learned to care. And when they fought again, Tsukiyama found he was disappointed in her fighting ability. She had gone soft. She had changed, and somehow her eyes no longer held as sharp of a gaze. No, at that time they had warmed. They were on fire.

Surely he, Tsukiyama, hadn’t changed, right? It couldn’t be so? Surely…

…Yet, hadn’t Touka also been able to defeat him that time, for this same reason?

“But as sworn, I will take heed of your desire to protect Centipede. I will consider it your wish to protect him in any way possible, and if you speak it as such, I will grant it to the best of my ability. I am a demon who grants wishes… if there’s one thing I never go against, it is the wish of my master.” Kuroha smiled a sly smile. “Keep in mind, Centipede is most certainly a monster himself…something of a King of Tragedy, if I do say so myself… And despite the fact that the king is a monster, who is he allied with but a group filled with only humans?”

One of which is a CCG officer, Tsukiyama conceded, eye festering with irritation.

“I don’t know how you feel about who he’s working with, but eventually they are going to drag him down and endanger him. Are they even trustworthy? I couldn’t tell you that, either. As for myself… I understand how you couldn’t trust me,” Kuroha admitted with a shrug. “Along with my killing our little deceiver, I was also the cause of the Bleeding Heart’s death.”

Tsukiyama’s eye flicked to him in vague surprise, and Kuroha smiled in satisfaction.

“Yes, even though it was the idol who shot him, it was because I led him to the target and dodged in such a way that the bullet would hit him dead center. But the Bleeding Heart’s ideologies were far apart from the implications of this game. From the beginning, he only had the potential to drag us all down… Yet again, I acted in our best interest.”

The dark serpent tilted his head, glancing upwards. “I’ve hit every point I’d like to. From here, I will let you make your choice. What’ll it be, Gourmet? Out of anyone in our group originally, you are the only one I had even a morsel of respect for. Choose wisely.”

Tsukiyama gazed into his golden eyes for awhile, then lowered his head. His blue-violet hair shrouded his eyes. For some time, he was silent. The Gourmet was distinctly aware of the corpse of Yoh lying nearby in the room next door. The sun had set and the moon was on the rise.

When at last he spoke, Tsukiyama’s voice was low. “…Kuroha-san… I would like to continue working with you, under that condition of protecting Kaneki-kun…”

Kuroha’s glowing eyes narrowed in pleasure. “I thought you’d say that, Gourmet. Remember, I’ll still be watching you very closely.”

Ovviamente. Of course. As I will you, Kuroha-san.”

“Of course,” Kuroha agreed. “Deceiver #2 is now open for you to devour; I won’t stop you from replenishing yourself. Bon appétit, right?” Kuroha chuckled, and left for the living room.

Tsukiyama stood alone in the kitchen for awhile, listening to the silence. Eventually he turned and walked back to the first room, where Yoh lay dead. Before anything, the Gourmet pressed his hands together and whispered a prayer. As he pressed his tarnished shoe to the unmoving chest of Yoh and yanked off his arm at the shoulder, Tsukiyama began to reflect on the conversation. It is true, about the beliefs of ghouls, he thought to himself as he replenished his energy and satisfied his hunger. For humans, life is something of value. Something of worth. Death is to be feared. To lose someone is horror. He delicately separated the humerus from the lower arm. These are my theories on human ideas, something that has always interested me. For ghouls, it is somewhat different. For a ghoul, no matter what kind of person you are, you live a life of death. Loss is common, and with your first meal you know the truth of mortality. Ghouls take lives in order to keep their own. The young ones feel bad at first, but over time, as the cycle is repeated over and over again… He carefully tore at the muscle of Yoh’s upper arm with his teeth. …Eventually it’s just part of the rhythm of everyday life. Ghouls are desensitized to death, as it is their accompaniment to the melody of their lives. At first there is discord, and there is a dissonance, but eventually a ghoul grows accustomed to carnage. Death and Ghouls live in harmony… there is no such thing as valuing life. And that is, in essence, what makes us monsters… Isn’t that right, Kuroha?

He found it hidden in the pocket of Yoh’s prison uniform: a small gun with a pink hilt. The Gourmet held it carefully in his hand. Yoh must have picked it up from the battlefield at some point in time. He’d always been sneaky in that way… Tsukiyama checked the gun to see what ammo it had – there was but one bullet left.

Tsukiyama thought of the battle and all that had transpired there. That CCG-ghoul with the orange hair – Shirazu, was it? He’d said that he, too, was fighting for Kaneki-kun… Here he was, on the opposing side. He thought of the way Kaneki had gathered his group together to run after Ganta had died and that blond man – Delic? – had been severely injured by Kuroha. He must not have lasted, because he wasn’t around afterwards. Come to think of it, Shirazu had even given Tsukiyama partial blame for his death…

All of that group was one, as a unit, bound together through not just necessity but by the warm bonds of the heart. Seeing that… Tsukiyama, now apart from the Kaneki he claimed in his own head he was following just for the meal he could earn at the end… Now he thought of this and felt only longing. It was not a desire to taste his flesh, but to be close to him once more – to mend what bonds he had broken and be together with him as… as a ‘friend.’ All of the people that he, the Gourmet, had objectified – Kaneki as his meal, the human Chie as his pet back home – all of them were people he actually cared about… Was that so? Was that really true? And if it was…why was it that it took him this long to figure it out? Seeing Kaneki working with another group, Tsukiyama found himself wishing to go back to the time where not only could he spend time with Kaneki, but also the group that Kaneki had formed. He longed to be together with Hinami, with Banjou and his team members. Somehow, he found himself wishing to be with all of them again, not just Kaneki. And in this revelation – this epiphany – Tsukiyama knew what it was that he needed to do.

Getting to his feet, Tsukiyama wiped his mouth clean and pocketed the pink gun. He could sense that Kuroha was outside right now rather than in the house. Though he’d already known what was necessary, Tsukiyama now had the determination to do so.

With a proud countenance, Tsukiyama followed Kuroha’s footsteps and stepped outside into the light of the full moon. He surely had found a way to solve the predicament under the time the moon was full, had he not?

Kuroha’s back was to him; he was kneeling on the ground, hunched forward and heaving. The Gourmet could smell fresh blood. The demon didn’t seem to notice as Tsukiyama came up behind him.

“Kuroha.”

The snake paused, then slowly wiped away the red from his mouth.

“You are desperate. You wish to gain my loyalty only because you know that you yourself have been weakened. Already, you’ve been dealt injuries that no human could sustain, and that’s not all. That Konoha fellow’s awake inside of you too, and I’m sure that he’s tearing you apart from the inside…isn’t he? I do believe that it’s even safe to assume that he’s the reason you haven’t answered me yet, isn’t it? Well, Konoha… allow me to commend you in your effort in thwarting this demon to the best of your ability. That friend of yours, in the red jacket… I will see to it that he is taken care of. I, too, have a friend I must aid. Kuroha, on the other hand… there’s nothing left for you. You’ve been defeated, even though you would never admit such a thing. It’s not your time any longer…” Tsukiyama smiled. “When the moon is full, it’s my turn.”

Kuroha’s yellow eyes widened as he felt the cool barrel of a gun pressed against the back of his head. “You—wouldn’t—dare.

“I would, Monsieur,” Tsukiyama answered without expression. “I think it’s quite fitting, dying this way. Wouldn’t you say so?” With a click, the pink gun was cocked. “If my wish is to protect Kaneki-kun, there’s no other way than to kill you. Regardless of wishes, you will continue to harm the people he cares about, and that hurts him too. It’s something a demon couldn’t truly understand.”

Kuroha began to tremble, fighting hard to move, to respond, to fight… but he couldn’t. Genuine fear filled his yellow serpentine orbs. “I don’t—want to die—” It was a faint request; a hoarse whisper.

“It’s only the fate that you condemned others to, yourself,” Tsukiyama responded. “This is not for me, or even for Kaneki-kun. This is for everyone you’ve killed. This is for Yoh-kun. For Ganta-kun.”

Shoulders quietly shaking, Kuroha gazed placidly with one strawberry eye to the ground before him, weeping freely. It was Konoha’s voice that murmured, “Thank you.”

With vague sorrow in his eyes, Tsukiyama pulled the trigger.

The demon collapsed forward, body bouncing slightly off the ground once before lying still, his blood pooling around him in the grass, staining the green red even though in the blueish moonlight, it looked black. Tsukiyama lowered the gun, then dropped it, bowing his head. All was silent. The night was still. He was alone.

Softly, the moon continued to emanate its midnight glow.


 

“Aw…,” murmured the Voice, Muse, as they watched the scene unfold and conclude. “That’s really all? What a shame. But now all my power players have perished… Who, now, will become my antagonists?” Their mockery of sorrow eased into eager anticipation, mouth twisting from a frown into a smile. “I can’t wait to see. This will be entirely new! A whole new arc, a whole new stage! Where will it take us? How do I want it to go? Ah… we’ll just have to wait.”


 

“The moon,” said a soft, childish voice, “looks like it’s dissipating.”

“The cloud will pass soon,” said Kaneki softly, gazing upwards at the hazy sky. He closed his eyes.

“It looks like smeared chalk, don’t you think?”

“I suppose so,” Kaneki agreed.

“Wouldn’t it be interesting,” said the voice, “if the moon were hollow?”

“Stop speakin’ crazy talk,” grumbled a second voice, lower than the first.

Kaneki smiled slightly, feeling the breeze blow back his hair, ruffling it. He was sitting on the rooftop of tonight’s building, on watch.

Psyche was squinting upwards with his vibrant pink eyes, trying to peer through the clouds in order to make out the man on the moon. “Dude, if there is a man up there,” said Delic, “he’s probably pretty lonely.” He put a hand on his hip. His suit was pure white, glowing in the moonshine.

“No, he’s not,” said Psyche, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. “He has all of the stars with him.”

“Hey, we’re stars, aren’t we?” Delic pointed out with a ridiculous smile.

“I guess so, Deli, but we’re not in outer space,” he commented.

“Ya think I can hook up with the man on the moon? Ya think he’s hot?”

“I thought the moon was a pretty chilly place, actually,” Psyche remarked, and Delic sighed. His friend had ruined his fun.

“Well, if he gives me the cold shoulder, can I have Kaneki’s shoulder to lean on instead? Eh? Maybe I have a chance after all, what do ya think, Psyche?”

“I think that you’re delusional, Deli,” Psyche answered brightly, and Kaneki could hear Delic ruffling his hair. “Deliiii, the headphones!”

Smile touching his pale lips, Kaneki opened his eyes. The sky was clear; cloudless. The moon was bright. There was no one on the rooftop with him. Contented expression fading, he began to lower his head, grey eyes lost. The breeze gusted at him again. He was all alone.

“…Kane-kun, I ripped the chord of my headphones,” Psyche complained, pulling at Kaneki’s sleeve. The half-ghoul jerked away, surprised. Psyche’s eyes were glowing brighter than the moon, and there was something off about them. Something cold. Something empty. “I have a sore throat, Kane-kun… It hurts… It hurts lots…,” he wailed, rubbing at his increasingly darkened neck.

Kaneki backed away from him, shocked. “Psyche… I—”

“Hey, man,” said Delic, kneeling behind him – Kaneki had bumped into him. The half-ghoul froze. “I can’t feel my leg.”

“Kane-kun,” Psyche whispered, “I don’t want to die.” He was clutching at his blackened neck, leaning in so that his nose was almost touching his. “Why did you let Deli die?”

“You didn’t protect Psyche,” Delic added, voice low.

There was a clinking sound; pliers clicking together. “You are too weak,” said the man in the hockey mask, clinking the pliers again. Kaneki didn’t even know where the voice was coming from, but it was followed by another voice, this one female. “Your friends will die due to your lack of ability. This is your fault.

Your fault. Kaneki scrambled to get away, but he could feel Delic grabbing at him, Psyche grabbing at him; a woman named Ryoko; a mother and her son – murdered because he couldn’t save them. Your fault. Shirazu and Banjou, both questioning why he’d lashed out at them and attacked. Jason; Rize. All of them were grabbing for him, holding him back with black fingers, drawing him into an abyss of black and white, of checkered clouds and fields of flowers. Your fault. People were slipping away before his very eyes – Shirazu, Seidou, Shintaro, and even Roppi… Hide and Touka… Hinami and Banjou… Your fault. It was his dead mother. His neglectful and bitter aunt. Your fault.

He felt hands on his face, and he looked before him to see Tsuki, eyes warm and apologetic. All the sound around him stopped, and though he still felt paralyzed, he was no longer being dragged downwards. All was still. All was calm. The rooftop – he was still on the rooftop. Kaneki could still see the moon shining overhead. “Ah… Kaneki… It’s—going to be fine…” Tsuki held something out to him and began to smile, but the thing he was handing him was a bloody and still-beating heart from Tsuki’s own open chest – the smile that had begun to touch his gentle, stuttering mouth twisted, and his face contorted into a twisted recreation of the clumsy medic, eyes bright red as he opened his mouth and screeched at him. The oncoming roar of the voices all joining together once more was deafening. Sucked into thick ebony, he began to drown. Black and white – the roof was gone, he was falling, being dragged downwards into the black, sinking into water with the blood-soaked arms grabbing at his clothes, at his body, tearing at his flesh and ripping him apart.

My fault.

A scream ripped from his throat; he fought his way upwards, clawing at the inky black to reach the light, but there was none. He needed to get out; get away; let me go…! He could hear the cacophony of many voices calling to him, for him… Pointing blame, calling for help he couldn’t give, or jabbing accusations at him that were meant to destroy. Laughter pierced through the fray of voices, and Kaneki couldn’t tell whether it was Kuroha laughing or Jason or Rize but it didn’t even matter and he couldn’t escape – he couldn’t, he was going to be torn apart and he couldn’t take it anymore he couldn’t stand it and surely he couldn’t last much longer before—

Kaneki, wake up!

He jerked backwards, and in his half-wakeful state, he lashed out at the one who had woken him: Seidou. The CCG officer dodged before punching Kaneki square in the face. He had come up to the rooftop to find Kaneki with his kagune writhing around him, picking him apart and tearing into his own body. The punch had snapped Kaneki out of it; he was breathing hard as his kagune shriveled away into nothing. “I…who…?”

“It’s Seidou,” Seidou answered in clipped tones, crossing his arms. “For goodness’ sake, you’re tormenting yourself way more than you need to! At this point, your guilt will only lead to your destruction, and that won’t do anything but make things worse… Calm down already!”

“I—don’t know—how—where did—what—” His eyes were still frantic, his posture twisted.

Seidou sighed, unsure of how to help him. This level of self-destruction was beyond him. “I… just… calm down, okay? We’ll keep fighting… Just, calm down for now,” he said tentatively. He didn’t want to touch him. Somehow, even now there was an aversion to the mere idea of a ghoul, and Kaneki…

“I…I… I…” He stopped, seemingly unable to continue.

“You…what?” Seidou chided.

“‘I, stand…’” he haltingly began, “‘…amid the roar, of a surf-tormented shore… And… I hold, within my hand… Grains of the golden sand…’” Kaneki’s body began to relax; his speech became less broken as he continued to recite. “‘How few… Yet how they creep Through my fingers to the deep, While I weep – while I weep…’” Having calmed himself, Kaneki bowed his head low, arms hugging at his own chest. “I’m sorry, Seidou… I’ve hurt you…”

Seidou knew he should say that it was okay. He knew it was what was kind. Yet to him…lashing out the way he was, and performing the terrible actions that really only seemed ghoul-like to him… If Kaneki was as nice as he was usually, then why would he succumb to that? Why would he give in; why would he do any of it? Admittedly, Seidou still felt an aversion to Kaneki, and it was only when he forgot he was a half-ghoul that he felt at ease with him… Yet, if he was so bad, why was it they could get along so well? He was a victim, right? Because it wasn’t as though he had chosen to be a ghoul in the first place… And it wasn’t like it was the way he was born… But even if that were the case, then how was it that he could do such terrible things as stabbing his own teammate? Seidou simply couldn’t understand how any true human could give into that the way he did…

But, maybe he just didn’t understand. Seidou could accept that in his head, but his chest still constricted in protest. The CCG officer did not respond to the apology, nor did he pardon Kaneki; Seidou just averted his eyes. “What was that, just now? A poem?”

“…By Edgar Allan Poe,” Kaneki confirmed softly. “‘A Dream Within a Dream.’”

“Huh.” Seidou had nothing to say to that. His body was tense. “…Kaneki.”

“Yeah?” Kaneki’s voice was soft. He seemed defeated, though cold.

Seidou stopped, biting his cheek. He just—didn’t—get it. “Why do you keep doing it?”

The half-ghoul did not lift his head. “What… do you mean?”

“You wanted to work with me, even though I’m a CCG officer and you’re—well… yeah. You’re still a human, though, aren’t you? Mentally, I mean. So…why do you keep—I don’t know…” Seidou shook his head, fighting to find the words but being unable to express what he was trying to say. “Back in that last fight, you weren’t like this at all – like, you weren’t… you, but that wasn’t the only time I’ve wondered about this. How you act there and how you act here are too different, and it doesn’t make any sense at all to me! And now I find you here…” He paused, drawing his lips into a thin line. “What I’m trying to say is that you don’t make any sense. How can you be a human but still give in to being a ghoul? I asked you before – isn’t that it? That you’re only becoming a ghoul, more and more as time goes on? That’s not what you want, is it? Not if you’re a human, right? I asked you whether any of our discussions even mattered to you, and you said you didn’t even know—how am I supposed to trust that?”

“…I don’t know… what you’re talking about. I don’t remember you ever saying that.”

Seidou frowned slightly, gazing at him. He didn’t seem to be lying. To think, he didn’t even remember? “…Are you still human at all? Please, give me some kind of answer.”

Kaneki was silent for some time before getting to his feet and facing him. “Seidou, I am no human. That’s what you don’t understand. I stopped being human six months ago.”

Seidou blinked. Six months ago? The month that CCG raided Aogiri? What did that have to do with this, though?

“I’m… not the person, I used to be,” Kaneki explained. “The person I once was is dead, so…” He closed his eyes. “And I can’t take the time to mourn that loss. There are things… I can’t, control. I am trying, but I… I’m not strong enough. I don’t want to harm innocent people; only the bad. And yet… I still…” He bowed his head. “It’s not something you really could understand… But there is one person that I would be unable to bear seeing me like this, so that is something I just, won’t let happen. Ever.” He looked at Seidou. “You don’t know the person I once was, only the person that stands in front of you. You are a bold soul with an earnest fire. I regret… that I couldn’t have met you sooner.”

Seidou looked down, suddenly understanding the words that Shinichi said in parting from Kaneki.

“Seidou, I’m sorry that the person I am now is the person you had to meet. Everything you said… it isn’t wrong. I keep failing to protect people, and hurt them instead… That’s the truth.”

Seidou eyed him, but by then Kaneki had once again bowed his head. The CCG officer mulled over his words for a while before finally reaching a conclusion. “‘If you value the lives around you, you’ve got to also value your own. Otherwise, what you’re serving isn’t justice. It’s hypocrisy.’” Seidou crossed his arms matter-of-factly after making his statement.

“…If I may, what are you quoting?” Kaneki inquired, and Seidou looked away with pink cheeks.

“It’s—a cop show.”

Kaneki smiled slightly. Somehow, it seemed so trivial yet so profound to him – Hide would pull the same kinds of casual remarks to get him to smile again. Expression fading and eyes fixed on the roof tiles beneath his feet, he said to him, “Thank you, but I’m fine. Right now… I just want to get through this game… hopefully without any more casualties.”

Frowning deeply and responding with a heavy sigh, Seidou shook his head. “Well, that makes two of us…”

“I’m sure none of us want anyone else to die,” Kaneki said, and Seidou made a noise of agreement.

They stood beside one another on that rooftop. Seidou was unsure of the meaning of that silence; he could not decipher its codes. Kaneki, lost in his own head, didn’t think too hard on what lay between them for now. Before them, the light of dawn began to illuminate the skyline, and as the first rays of the sun of dawn touched the buildings in the east, the Voice began its announcement.

 

Notes:

Ah, and the second arc begins.

Chapter 27: Replenish

Chapter Text

 

Everyone was as they had been when the Voice began to speak, their sound resounding around them without any way to pinpoint the location of its source. “Good morning, everyone!” they began, and the players began to stir.

Though Kaneki and Seidou were already wide awake, Shintaro, Shirazu, and Roppi all had yet to awaken. It was Shirazu and Shintaro who began to stir. In the woods, Yukiteru looked at A-ya, unable to believe they’d been up all night; the dawn was already here? A-ya understood the look, but only shrugged. Shinichi was already awake, eyes tired as he sat on the edge of his bed and looked to the window. Ciel was asleep in his own bed on the other side of the room. Tsukiyama, though ragged, straightened his posture and looked angrily to the sky. Izaya, sitting outside the house he and Yato had stayed in, looked up with his perpetually narrow and cold eyes, unsmiling. Yato lay like a log in the room he slept in, dead to the world.

Congratulations to the surviving twelve players of these Emina Games!” said the Voice, and in the control room, Muse smiled into the microphone. “You have made it past the first major turning point of this game. Of all the groups, there have been twelve casualties – half of you have been killed in this game, so all things considered, you should all be proud to wake up this morning! I will give you all some time to gather your groups together, as an important decision is at hand for all of you!”

The Voice stopped speaking then, and after a few moments of pause, the already-awake members of each group turned to the others to wake them. Seidou and Kaneki went down to find Shirazu already groggily standing, saluting both of them while rubbing one of his eyes with his other hand. “So ready,” he said. “You know it. In five minutes.”

Kaneki smiled at him while Seidou sighed, and the three of them went to wake up Shintaro despite the shut-in’s protests. Though Seidou approached Roppi, his stillness kept the CCG officer from disturbing him.

A-ya and Yukiteru were already fine, so they used their time to try and find a more open area to better see what was going on, if anything happened. Yukiteru speculated that maybe Aureus had replenished their energy levels, and that was why both of them were still wide awake.

A-ya shrugged. “That, or it’s adrenaline.”

“Maybe…but wouldn’t that be over by now?” Yukiteru asked, brow furrowed. A-ya only shrugged again.

Shinichi looked across the room to Ciel for a bit before standing and approaching his bed. Shinichi went to gently touch his shoulder but decided against it, calling for him softly instead.

The young boy’s eyes opened, dull. “Is it morning?” he asked in a dead tone, looking at Shinichi. He nodded, and Ciel sat up, rubbing at his eyes. “Was it that bothersome game master I heard just now?”

“That’s right,” Shinichi confirmed, and stood. “Apparently we have a decision to make. We have time… should I get us breakfast before that voice speaks up again?”

“Sure, whatever,” Ciel answered, closing his eyes.

Shinichi blinked, looking down before turning and beginning to walk downstairs.

“Shinichi.”

He looked back, blank.

“…Bring it up to me. I want to eat in bed.” Ciel didn’t make eye contact.

As Shinichi headed down the stairs to get them their breakfast, he couldn’t help but smile, if slightly.

Tsukiyama was alone. With no one left to tend to until he reached Kaneki and the red-jerseyed boy, he acted more worried about the fact his clothes were tarnished and that he couldn’t replace them. The Gourmet had full-on conversations with himself now that he was alone, mumbling how he wished he could play out his sorrows on the piano. The Voice’s implications of some future decision only brought him to become increasingly agitated with whoever was running this game.

Izaya checked on Yato in his bedroom, but there was no response for the informant – the god was passed out, and he wasn’t getting up anytime soon. With a pleasant shrug, Izaya closed the sliding door back up again and headed back out to the front to sit and wait.

Perhaps fifteen minutes after the first announcement, the Voice spoke up once again: “Alright, everybody, listen to this! From here, we come across a choice. For every group, I will give you two options: the first is to heal everyone in your group to the state they were in at the beginning of this game. This restoration does not recover any mental deterioration, but many of you may find this to be of use.

“Secondly, you could attain new recruits for your group – new members, one for each that has fallen. You have a half an hour to make your choice. Choose well! When you’ve come to your decision, just have a representative raise a fist into the air and speak the decision made. After everyone has made their decisions, I will announce this and state the names of any new members we may have in the game.

“That’s all for now, though! Choose well, everyone!~"


 

“To heal or to get new members,” Izaya mused aloud, gazing at the sky. The clouds had rolled in today. As of right now, Shizuo and Yukine were dead, and it was just him and Yato. Izaya only had one injury, and it was a stab wound to the shoulder where Kuroha had flung his switchblade back at him using his mouth. Yato’s injuries were healing relatively fast, and other than that old gut wound from the Gourmet, nothing really plagued him besides the psychological torment of losing Yukine and the heavy fatigue that had taken hold of him. Izaya was sure that, with time, that could fix itself… Well, maybe not the Yukine predicament, but the healing option wouldn’t really help that either. Yato likely didn’t want to bring anyone else into this mess, Izaya was sure. On the other hand… if others joined the game, there was the chance that Yato could want to protect one of these new members, and that would give him another solid motive to continue. There could also be conflict with these new members, but even that would help Yato come back to life in terms of distraction. Plus, it would give Izaya something to do.

In either case – or in any other case that may arise – Izaya would have two new people to piece together and understand; two new people to utilize in reaching his goal of ending the game. It was true that there was strength in numbers… Judging by the look Roppi had given him after the battle on the field, he didn’t think he’d be invited warmly into that alliance again. Until the point where Roppi was less of an issue, he and Yato would be working alone unless they found another group to ally with. Kuroha still needed to be killed, and if he healed himself now…well, everything they had accomplished in injuring him would be null and void. All of the game players would have to start from square one.

With that as a possibility along with other potentially strong players that might be coming into the game, Izaya knew that his most advantageous option at this point was to ask for new recruits. The fact he didn’t know what kind of people they were only made it exciting for him.

A smile stretching on his features, Izaya raised his fist into the air. “Group 6 would like new recruits,” he stated, and beside him there was a buzzing sound. He turned his head to see that a hologram was being projected from the top corner of the porch onto the ground nearby.

The black silhouette tapering into purple spread its arms wide. “Thank you for your participation, Izaya Orihara! You and Yato will receive your new members after all other groups have made their decision, or the time runs out – whichever happens first. As soon as this is over, all special items pillars will be reset, and you may reuse any you’ve already found.

“That’s incredibly convenient,” Izaya smiled. “How long, do you think, you could converse with me, Game Master?”

I could converse for eternity, but you have a game to play and sins to atone for,” the silhouette grinned in turn.

“And you don’t?” asked Izaya, eyebrows shooting up. The silhouette only laughed, glitched, and disappeared. He stared at where it had been for some time before frowning at the sky. “…Hm.”

For Tsukiyama the Gourmet, there wasn’t much question: he was all alone, and he felt all alone. He wanted a dynamic back. All but him had fallen in his group.

Raising a fist into the air, he proclaimed with pride that he wished for new members. From a tree nearby, a silhouette was projected, giving the same information that it had given Izaya. Tsukiyama bitterly thanked the silhouette with a merci.

Shinichi and Ciel had a bit more of a debate on it.

“If we have more people on our side,” said Ciel, “then we won’t just be a two-man team. We have more of a chance that way, especially considering Sebastian is gone and so is Migi. They were our strongest members, and you know it.”

“That’s true, but…” Shinichi frowned deeply, looking at his left hand and at the nub of his right arm that Migi had left behind. “…Even though we’re not necessarily all that injured… Migi’s cells are dispersed all throughout my bloodstream. If I were to be healed… it might bring him back.”

Ciel scoffed. “You can’t get back what you’ve already lost,” he said bitterly. “I learned that a long time ago. It wouldn’t work, Shinichi.”

“And if it does?” Shinichi asked him, tone both cold and desperate.

The earl sighed heavily. “If you really want to give it a try, you can go right ahead. I won’t stop you.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “But when it doesn’t work, you’d better not be all too upset; understand?”

Shinichi searched the boy’s face for a while, judging his reaction before nodding his head. “I understand.”

“Regardless,” said Ciel, “if we find another one of those ‘special items’ things then we could just as easily select ‘extra recruits’ from my own name.”

“That’s true,” Shinichi nodded with more conviction. “It’s worth a try, in that case.” He lifted his fist into the air. “Group 4 would like to be healed.”

In the center of the room, a hologram appeared, and informed them of the same as the others. Their decision had been made.

Yukiteru and A-ya had made it to the small residential area by that point, rows and rows of small houses forming an empty community. “I guess we should stop walking for a bit, huh?” asked Yukiteru, and A-ya nodded and sat on a nearby rock.

“We already know that we’re getting those two girls on our side,” said Yukiteru thoughtfully, “but one of them is a terrorist that’s tried to kill me before, so…” Yukiteru thought on this. “We have our extra special items, but if they might have some limitation that can shut it off, I want to save it for something more important than that… like… facing Kuroha, or something. You know?”

A-ya nodded slightly.

“Neither of us are really hurt, so I figured we should get new recruits. Then maybe it’ll work out better, yeah?”

A-ya opened his mouth, and closed it again. He bowed his head. Nodded curtly. His insides were writhing. ‘I don’t want anyone else here. I don’t want anyone new. I want C-ta back. I want B-ko here. I want this to end.’ But his tongue was mute. There was nothing he could say. It was always C-ta who had spoken for him in the end, wasn’t it…?

“I mean, I don’t really want anyone else around here either, A-ya,” Yukiteru said apologetically, and A-ya stirred slightly. “As strange as it is, I kind of just want to go back and have the others back… But I know that it’ll all…just end up the same, won’t it?”

Would it really? wondered A-ya, sinking.

“I’ve thought it through again and again while we were walking, and even though I know that neither of us really want to… I mean…” Yukiteru faltered and was silent. He kinda liked their two-man team. He didn’t want anyone coming between them – A-ya was the first person who Yukiteru could actually connect to; he didn’t want to lose that, not ever… “I just…want to make sure that we can get out, you know? And even if I know you don’t want it… and I know I don’t want it… we might need it, so… And I know that’s just better.” He paused. “I mean, unless they’re just as dysfunctional as… well, yeah, in which case – well – we’ll have to figure that out.” He laughed nervously.

“No, I know…you’re right,” said A-ya.

“…I am?” Yukiteru asked nervously.

A-ya bobbed his head slightly, avoiding eye contact.

Yukiteru swallowed, hoping he was making the right choice as he raised his fist and asked for new members.

The silhouette, of course, told them the members would be received as soon as the time was up or everyone’s decision had been made.

Groups 1 and 2 were all clumped together in their office building – the only one not participating was Roppi, who either was dead asleep or refused to acknowledge anything that was going on. Group 2’s decision was easy, but Group 1 had a bit more difficulty in their decision. The four of them sat at an office table, as though at a meeting.

“For my group,” Seidou said, “we already have Roppi’s broken arm and Shintaro’s possible concussion…” The officer nodded at Shintaro, who shrugged, rubbing at his head and wincing. “Not to mention… my dominant hand is kinda crushed right now,” he frowned, looking at his deformed right hand. “I think the best option for our group is healing – what do you think, Shintaro?” He looked at the shut-in, who nodded.

“Yeah… Best for us,” he agreed quietly.

“And for us?” asked Shirazu looking at Kaneki.

Kaneki closed his eyes. “I think we should have ourselves—”

“—some new members?” said Shirazu.

“—healed,” said Kaneki.

The two looked at one another. “We shouldn’t bring anyone else into the game,” said Kaneki.

“But think about it,” said Shirazu, holding out his hands as though to present. “Both of us are already healing pretty fast. As freaky as that whole thing was yesterday, I’m already mostly healed. I heal way slower than at home, but I still heal. You do too, Kane-kun. Think about it! Your head should still be bleeding from that half-parasite dude, but you’re lookin’ good, I think. Kuroha did a number on ya too, but you’re getting better from even that already. If we have more people, I just… I dunno, I feel like we can contribute to the cause a little better than just you and me, y’know? ‘Cause I wanna take care of Seidou and Shintaro and Roppi… I don’t wanna feel like too much of a burden… y’know?” His shoulders had gone up with the tension – he didn’t want to drag anyone else into this either. “But… Kane-kun, if you don’t want to, then I don’t want to. It’s up to you, man.”

Kaneki shook his head. “We’re equal in this decision… but I don’t want to be any kind of burden either…”

“You’re not, though!” cried Shintaro. “Both of you are real strong…” Seidou nodded in agreement, stiff.

Kaneki looked at all of them, then at Shirazu, who was also avoiding contact. “Shirazu,” he said, and the partial-ghoul looked at him worriedly. “I agree with you. Don’t feel bad.” He smiled warmly, touching his chin. “I’ll ask for new recruits, and if anything happens to them, it will be on me, okay? I’m sure it will turn out well, Shirazu.”

Shirazu blinked a few times, then smiled a lopsided smile. “I…sure hope so,” he answered.

Seidou and Kaneki looked at one another and nodded, each of them raising a fist into the air and stating their decisions. The silhouette that appeared informed them that the effects would come very soon and of the special items pillars that had been reset.

The decisions had been made.


 

Everyone has made their choices! Now the effects will take place, everyone!

In every group there came a glow as though a special item pillar had been activated – bright, blinding light in each of the five places the groups were.

Ciel’s scuffs disappeared, Shinichi’s slices and bite marks were healed, if painfully. His hand regenerated on his arm, and the nineteen-year-old fell to his knees, hope clutching at him. Migi, Migi, are you in there…? He held his wrist and called to him, but there was no response. “Migi!” Ciel didn’t look at him. He didn’t want to. Shinichi would soon learn, just the way he had. You never regain the things you lose.

In Roppi’s sleep, his arm was mended down to the bone, the cut on his head healed seamlessly. The effects could not heal his aching, bitter heart.

Shintaro’s headache ceased; the ringing in his ears subsided as the concussion was lifted. Seidou grimaced as his right hand was reset and properly healed in just a few moments.

And for the groups that had chosen to receive new recruits…

Beside Kaneki and Shirazu, there appeared an eighteen-year-old boy with thin brown hair, wearing khaki pants and a white collared shirt, buttoned neatly. Next to him was a man in his late twenties with black hair and black trench coat. Both of them looked rather lost, wondering how it was they were sitting at an office table. Each of them stood immediately when they realized they could be in danger. The boy with light brown hair had brown eyes that burned; the man had distant eyes, cold and calculating.

Near Yukiteru and A-ya there came a man with black hair and fiery eyes in a blue military uniform, standing beside another man with messy black hair of his own, hunched forward with wide eyes that peered at everyone with confusion and curiosity. The former stood erect in surprise; the latter bit at the nail of his thumb, putting his other hand in the pocket of his plain jeans.

Tsukiyama had three others appear beside him in the bright light: a man with spiky, slicked-back hair and an eyepatch over his right eye, wearing a jacket with no shirt beneath; a boy with bleached blond hair that was brown at the roots, wearing a red-collared white short-sleeve and black pants; and a young girl with a red turtleneck shirt and black skirt, long black socks pulled up neatly. The girl, who had long black hair tied into twin-tails with black ribbons, stiffened in indignant shock. The spiked-back haired man just scratched his head, while the blond took in the situation at hand as quickly as he could fathom.

Beside Izaya, there was a teenaged boy with fluffy and wavy brown hair, wearing an orange t-shirt that read ‘Double Open Heart.’ Along with him there was a shorter, slimmer person that wore colorful suspenders and red slippers, thread sewn into his lip and lower eyelid. There were red hairclips in his white hair that made the roman numeral symbol for thirteen. Izaya couldn’t tell right away whether he was male or female. Both new members looked confusedly around.

The voice began to speak again. “ Due to the decisions made by the original players of this game, there are now nine new players in the Emina Games! Their names are as follows: we have Twelve from the realm of the Athena Plan, Rin Tohsaka and Kiritsugu Emiya of the Realm of the Holy Grail, Senji Kiyomasa from the Realm of Deadmen, Light Yagami – Kira – and L Lawliet – L – from the Realm of the Death Note, Roy Mustang from the Realm of Alchemy, and Juuzou Suzuya and Hideyoshi Nagachika of the Realm of Ghouls! Any necessary weapons should appear nearby. Good luck, everyone!

 

Chapter 28: Warm Welcomes

Chapter Text

 

Kaneki froze. “Hide?” he whispered in disbelief, just as Seidou scratched his head and said, “Nagachika-kun?” They looked at one another before looking back to the two new members. It was far more difficult for Kaneki to keep calm in this moment as compared to Seidou.

After the names were called, the boy with the thin, light-brown hair went rigid, his tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth. He had no idea what these guys were about, but to just say he was Kira…

“Hey, hey, it’s cool; it’s cool,” Shirazu said quickly, holding up his hands in peace towards the aforementioned brunette and the black-haired, distant man in the trench coat. “We ain’t gonna hurt ya.”

“We’re on your side, within reason,” Seidou agreed. “You’re a part of our allied groups of 1 and 2.” He stood, as did Kaneki. Shirazu and Shintaro followed suit. “I’m Seidou Takizawa,” he bowed. “For all intents and purposes, you can call me Seidou here. I am a Rank 2 CCG officer – a ghoul investigator – with a crossbow weapon.” He looked at Kaneki, who nodded.

“I am Ken Kaneki, it’s a pleasure,” he smiled gently. “I’m an artificial half-ghoul with abilities of my own,” he explained, touching his chin.

“Ginshi Shirazu,” Shirazu grinned, flashing his pointed teeth. “Rank Three ghoul investigator. Bad aim, but I can shoot badass projectiles from my back.”

“Sh-shi-Shintaro Kisaragi,” Shintaro stammered, bowing so hastily he hit his head on the table. Dejected, he sat. “High school dropout… I have lame scissors, don’t mind me…”

“He’s also a genius with a photographic memory,” Seidou sighed, crossing his arms. Shintaro grumbled something unintelligible, face still pressed against the table’s hard surface.

“Kiritsugu Emiya,” said the man in the trench coat, still on-guard. “For all intents and purposes…” – he glanced at Seidou – “…you may call me Kiritsugu. I’m also known as the Magus Killer, and I work as a freelancer…an assassin.”

There was a shift among the original members – Shirazu was particularly impressed.

“I’m, ah, Light Yagami,” said Light, friendly and charismatic. Though his eyes burned with something off just moments before, it was gone in an instant. Only Kaneki noticed the shift. “Light’s fine. I’m just…a high school student, really, though I recently got caught up in a major investigation.” He touched his chin thoughtfully. “So, I guess…” He smiled. “…I guess you could say I’ve been working as kind of an investigator, myself.”

Seidou nodded. “Cool.”

“If I may, though, you said you were a…ghoul investigator?” Light asked.

“That’s right.”

“Me too!” Shirazu jumped in.

“So, are you investigating…him?” he asked, shifting his attention to Kaneki.

Kaneki closed his eyes, and Seidou shifted uncomfortably. “It’s complicated,” said Seidou.

“Not really,” said Shirazu. “Kane-kun isn’t all that ghoul-like, so I don’t mind him at all. He’s not a full ghoul, y’know. In fact, I’m part ghoul m’self!”

“What is a ‘ghoul’?” asked Kiritsugu. He had cool tones to his voice. His eyes were flat.

“I’m kind of curious myself,” Light admitted.

“They’re, uh…” Seidou glanced at Kaneki.

It was Kaneki who finished the statement. “…They’re much like humans, but they have a higher rate of RC cells in their blood. The only thing that they can consume is human flesh.”

Kiritsugu looked at him in suspicion, but Shirazu cut in, “But Kane-kun’s fine! He’s fine! He needs to eat and whatever, but he’s really nice!”

“Barring all that, try not to worry too much about the people in this room – we aren’t who you need to be thinking about,” said Seidou. “There’s one other person in mine and Shintaro’s group: Roppi. He doesn’t have a weapon right now, but he’s currently grieving the loss of a team member, so…”

“I’m sorry to have brought you into this,” said Kaneki, “but as you are now a part of my group, I’ll explain to you what this is all about. We’re in the Emina Games, in some realm apart from any of our own… We all come from different realities, so to speak, and there are four other groups that need to be taken into account.” Kaneki looked at Shintaro, whose head was still lying on the table. “Let’s all sit down…and I’ll let Shintaro do some explaining about the other groups.”

Shintaro lifted his head. “Huh?! Why…?”

“Please do,” Light said warmly, sitting along with Kiritsugu. The Magus Killer nodded his head.

Shintaro’s mouth twitched. “Um… I’ll be really simple, since you two are kinda… thrown into this mess all of a sudden… Um, but yeah, four other groups. We’re groups one and two…” He closed his eyes. “Group 3 had four kids originally; I don’t know how many of them are left. I didn’t see any of them in the last fight, but they were all humans who seemed pretty normal to me… Group 4 has two people left: a young British earl from the 1800’s who just lost his butler and protector, and Shinichi Izumi, who’s a half-parasite and pretty powerful. He’s actually really nice, so we shouldn’t worry too much… Group 5 has the most powerful guy left… He, uh…” He opened his sad grey eyes. “He’s Kuroha. He’s… a demon, I guess. He’s with a ghoul and some poor human that might actually be dead by now… Group 6 just lost two members, too, so they’ve got this creepy informant – human – named Izaya Orihara and a god named Yato who’s actually really strong. He killed one of the demons, which was real cool. We had a temporary alliance with Group 6, but I don’t know whether that holds…” Shintaro shifted, sinking in his chair. “So…that’s that.”

“Thank you very much,” said Kiritsugu. “I’m sure we’ll be further informed if we come across one of these groups?” He looked at Kaneki, who he assumed was his group leader.

“That’s right,” Kaneki agreed. “There’s no need to give you all the information at once. Just the most important bits.”

“Ah, and… weapons were mentioned?” said Light. Would he obtain his Death Note here?

“I’d like to know about this, as well,” Kiritsugu concurred.

“The weapons are probably in the lobby of the building or on the roof,” said Seidou. “For now we’ll just do a catch-up, alright?”

“It’s better to know each other than be strangers in battle,” said Shirazu brightly, mouth stretching into another grin. “Right?”

“That’s true,” Light conceded, hiding his unbearable itch to discover whether this game had screwed him or not. Not that it hadn’t already.

“I’m glad to be working with soldiers,” Kiritsugu commented, and all but Shintaro seemed happy with this statement. The discussion continued as Kiritsugu and Light settled in, albeit uneasily.


Bonjour, tout le monde!” cried Tsukiyama to his three new team members. “It’s a pleasure to meet all of you!” He bowed. “I, Shuu Tsukiyama, am—”

“I demand an explanation right now,” the girl cut him off, pointing her hand at him, gripping at her elbow with her opposite hand as stability. Though confused, Tsukiyama figured that she must be aiming some kind of weapon at him. “Don’t think I trust any of you. What the hell is going on?!”

“I honestly have no fuckin’ clue either,” said the man with the spiked-back hair, scratching at his head. “My poison collar’s gone, the prison’s gone – fuck, I don’t wanna be back out! Life outside sucks worse than that hell!” He growled in frustration. “I swear, at least there’s structure there…”

“I think that maybe if we let him talk, we’ll get our explanation?” suggested the boy with bleached-blond hair.

“Indeed,” Tsukiyama sniffed. “You three have been pulled into Group 5 of the Emina Games, a battle royal in which we must fight to the death – you three and I are all on a team, facing five other groups.” He held up his hand to demonstrate the number.

The girl squinted at him, slowly lowering her arm. “…You’re kidding me.”

“So we’re all in war, basically?” asked the shirtless man with the open jacket, rubbing at his forehead. “We’re in anarchy, without any rules, anything at all?”

“Well, something like that,” agreed Tsukiyama.

“Well fuck! Knowing humans, it’s no wonder people are dying! God damn, well, I’d rather be back in prison.”

“But it’s a game,” said the girl, at last giving in and crossing her arms over her chest. Tsukiyama noticed a cross on her shirt. “Games have rules – it’s as simple as that.”

“That’s true…”

“Well?” asked the blond, looking at Tsukiyama. “What are the rules?” He seemed light-hearted about the whole ordeal. “I mean, apparently there are people from different realms, which sounds totally cool in my opinion. Say, why don’t we all get to know each other for a second, huh? I’m Hideyoshi Nagachika! All of ya can call me Hide, though, since we’re going to be fighting together and whatever. Might as well get personal – that’s what my friends call me. If not, well, Nagachika’s fine too.”

The girl frowned, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. “Rin Tohsaka. I’m a mage,” she said. “I expect you people aren’t?”

“We don’t have mages in my world, but that would be so cool!” cried Hide. “Nah, I’m just a human.”

“I’m Senji Kiyomasa,” said the man with the spiked back hair. He pointed his thumb at his muscular chest. “I’m also known as Crow. I have an ability I call the Crow’s Claw; I’m a human, basically, but people call me a Deadman.”

Tsukiyama looked somber for a moment, thinking of Ganta. “Ah, that bleeding heart…”

“What was that?” asked Senji.

“Nothing, nothing. Non preoccuparti. In any case, I am a ghoul.”

“What? No way!” yelped Hide. “That’s so cool, I’ve always wanted to meet a ghoul; how exciting! I bet you’re the Gourmet, aren’t you? You look the part.”

Tsukiyama faltered, taken aback. “I take it…you’ve heard of me?”

“Yeah, I’m from your world, I’m thinking. We’ve just never met. Don’t worry, though; I don’t want to fight you anyway unless you try to eat me or something. I mean, or hurt my friends, but…you know.” He shrugged. “I think that’s a fair deal.”

Wahr. True.” Tsukiyama’s eyes were closed.

“German, huh?” frowned Rin, and Tsukiyama smiled.

Zwar,” he bowed. “Sprechen die Deutsch?

Ja, ich kann,” she frowned. “Anyway, that’s beside the point. Tell me everything you know about the other groups, and everything you know about the gaming area.”

“I will,” Tsukiyama soothed. “I must say, however, that my greatest goal of the moment is to protect two people in particular. When we find them, I implore that we do not attack them. Alliances are allowed in this game; we needn’t be warmongers.” ...This time, he thought to himself, thinking of Kuroha.

“It’s a great thought, but you need to take care of yourself first in a game like this,” Rin frowned at him.

“I think his cause is noble!” exclaimed Senji. “In a game like this, it’s the only thing you can do to continue to feel human… you know?”

Tsukiyama frowned a bit at the statement.

“Well, self-preservation is great and all, and I’m sure this guy knows that,” said Hide to Rin, “but Senji’s kinda right, too.” Hide shrugged. “Maybe we can’t save everyone, but we can try!” He grinned a goofy grin, and Rin stared at him, dumbstruck. He sounded all too familiar to her.

“Um…yeah, that’s right,” she said uncomfortably, and Tsukiyama raised his arms in triumph.

“Alright! Shall we begin with my generous explanation of all that must be—”

“We get it; can you not be that overdramatic?” she huffed, crossing her arms. “Cut to the chase. We don’t need pretty words surrounding it.”

Tsukiyama deflated, blinking his one eye. “…Ah?”


“Welcome,” Izaya greeted, standing and spreading his arms casually. “It appears that the two of you have been dragged into this mess of a battle royal. I’m sincerely sorry.” The brown-haired one was listening to Izaya attentively, while the albino was still looking around like a curious child. “You’re a part of my group, but there are five others… Ah, I haven’t even introduced myself.” He smiled that cruel-eyed smile of his. “I’m Izaya Orihara.”

“Juuzou Suzuya,” said the albino. “I’m a CCG officer.” He started picking at the threads sewn into his lip. “What’s a battle royal?”

“It’s one of those games where you’ve got to be the last one standing,” said the brunette thoughtfully.

“Oh, so I can kill the others?” he inquired. “No rules? I’ve got to? That doesn’t sound so bad… I’ve done it before.”

“I’m Twelve, by the way,” the other smiled. “Nice to meet you guys! Do I use family or given names here?”

“Huh?” asked Suzuya. “Um. Suzuya.”

“You can call me Izaya,” Izaya said. His friendly tone didn’t match his cold eyes.

“Izaya, Suzuya, and Twelve!” Twelve exclaimed brightly. “Like the three musketeers!”

“Wha…yeah!” agreed Suzuya.

“Well, there is a fourth of the group,” said Izaya, “but he’s resting right now. We’ve had…a few losses in the last battle,” Izaya closed his eyes, waiting for how they’d respond. He still had to pick these two apart.

“Well, I guess they lost,” said Suzuya matter-of-factly. “Don’t worry. I’ll win.”

“Yeesh, that’s brutal,” Twelve covered his mouth, trying not to laugh. “Ah, show some respect, Suzuya… I’m sure they died nobly.”

“They did; sacrificing themselves to save another,” Izaya answered. Twelve peered at him, noticing the slight shift in tone. Izaya only smiled, spinning around. “But anyway, I’m sure you two will do just fine – you seem to understand self-preservation alright… Just don’t mention them being losers in front of Yato. Yato’s the fourth member of the group, you see, and he’s not expecting any new members. So for now, we’re going to take this nice and quiet so that—”

“So you requested new members without talking to him about it?” Twelve inquired, leaning in close to Izaya. “Sounds sneaky!”

Izaya touched his chin, on-guard. “I know that he’s suffering right now… One of the people who died was someone like a son to him – he was only fourteen… I didn’t want to disturb him, but at the same time I understand that Yato won’t be making the most logical of decisions right now. I figured I could come up with the best answer using my level head, you see.”

Twelve laughed. “I like you!”

“I…” Suzuya picked at his lip again. “…I don’t like his eyes,” he commented slowly, grey eyes narrowing in suspicion. “I don’t like them at all.”

“Hm? What’s wrong with my eyes?” asked Izaya, while Twelve touched his chin prospectively.

“Yeahhh, I see it,” said Twelve, tilting his head. “My issue is I can’t see inside them; what about you?”

“Looks like he looks down on people like me; I don’t like it.”

“Makes sense; totally unfair. I like your eyes, though, Suzuya.”

“Huh?” Suzuya looked at Twelve in surprised confusion, snapping out of the dark aura he was beginning to exude. “Whyzzat?”

“Because you have the same eyes as some kids I used to know,” Twelve smiled at him. “The same eyes as me. The same eyes as my best buddy. You know, the kind of eyes that show you’ve been shut out from the world.”

“Shut…out?”

“Don’t worry, though! With each of our bent wings, the two of us can learn to fly together!” Twelve cried, jumping from the porch and spreading his arms like a bird, laughing freely as he ran around. Suzuya stared at him blankly.

“Should we…check on your weapons?” Izaya tried again. They were a volatile little couple here. They vaguely reminded him of his younger siblings; twins. …Kind of. More on the aspect of being hard to control, he supposed. But Izaya knew he’d gradually gain the upper hand over them. By tomorrow he’d earn their trust, and then he could get them to do just as he wanted them to.

At his mention of their weapons, they both turned to him, brightening. “Yeah!” Suzuya cried.

“Now, be a little more quiet, Suzuya,” said Twelve as he swung himself over the railing of the porch, landing beside the two of them. “Yato’s sleeping; if this guy’s right about anything it’s that if this guy’s grieving, he won’t want to be woken up.”

“I don’t understand,” Suzuya said blankly. “Grief just wastes time.”

Izaya’s mouth twitched. This kid was very to-the-point. He didn’t seem to care about conformity, nor for taking others feelings into his own regard. …Izaya liked him; him and Twelve both. They sure were interesting.

“Yeah, but everyone sees things through different eyes, you know?” said Twelve.

“Different…eyes…”

“You’re right, Suzuya, we’ve been talking entirely too much about eyes,” Twelve nodded. “So! Weapons!” He paused, then lowered his voice. “Nice and quiet.”

“They’re probably inside,” commented Izaya, opening the sliding door and inviting them in. The first thing Twelve did was inspect the broken door that Yato had thrown Izaya into the night before. Suzuya, on the other hand, ran right to where Izaya had first found his switchblade, said informant following along behind him.

“Wow!” the kid cried. “My quinque’s here!” He lifted a huge scythe from the table and swung it around, nearly decapitating Izaya, who ducked backwards with ease, albeit with surprise.  Suzuya giggled happily. “Izaya-san dodges well!~”

“Careful with that, Suzu-chan; if you remember, I’m on your team,” Izaya said warily. “When Twelve said ‘the last one standing,’ that means all four of us together, alright?”

“Oookayyy.”

“I think,” mused Twelve, “that he was testing you in his own way.”

Izaya smiled a dry smile. “Hoh?”

“Yeah, I mean you’re testing us out yourself, aren’t you? It’s only fair.” He gasped. “Cool! I got a belt of grenades!” He lifted them up happily.

“Hm~” Izaya closed his eyes. Twelve was pretty sharp, at least. “Well, I am pretty skilled when it comes to combat, especially when it comes to using a switchblade.”

“And I know how to make bombs in lots of creative ways,” Twelve answered. “Looks like we’ll all be pretty handy in a battle royal – though, I’m not sure… do we really have to kill other people? I mean, I’m just your friendly neighborhood terrorist,” he smiled. “I don’t actually kill people.”

Suzuya stared blankly at him.

“Well, that’s part of what we’ll discuss,” Izaya explained. “The three of us are going to give Yato some time to rest.” This way, of course, Izaya would be the first impression; he’d have the primary influence on these two. “In the meantime, us three will be walking to where I know a special items pillar is set. If they’ve been reset, it’s possible for us to gain something from it. On the way there and back, we’ll talk over this game and my theories on what it’s really about, along with all the other groups and all that good stuff. How’s that sound, hm?~”

“I think it sounds perfect!” grinned Twelve, and Suzuya nodded in approval.

Izaya smiled a satisfied smile. “Well then, let’s get started, shall we?”


“What’s this?” asked the man with messy, greasy black hair, biting at his thumbnail. He lowered his hand and stared at Yukiteru and A-ya with utmost curiosity, bulging eyes scrutinizing their every move. He looked at the sky with a vague smile touching his pale lips. “In any case, I can’t take that disembodied voice seriously…but they did just call Light-kun Kira.”

“I demand an explanation,” said the man beside him, eyes narrowing in suspicion. His white-gloved hand was on his hip.

“Mister, I’m just as confused.” The former swiveled his head to stare at Yukiteru, tilting his head with those wide eyes of his. “I’m expecting an explanation myself.”

“Yeah, about that, um…” Yukiteru shifted nervously. It was strange. The group they’d initially had consisted of three fourteen-year-olds and a sixteen-year-old. How old were these guys? Surely in their twenties, at least. “I’m really sorry to drag you into all of this. I’m Yukiteru Amano, and that’s A-ya on the rock. He’s…quiet today.” He shifted again. “It’s—nice to meet the two of you.” He bowed awkwardly. For some reason, talking to these new people made him want to cry.

“I’m Colonel Mustang of the Amestrian State Military,” Mustang stated with what seemed like an arrogant air.

Military? Yukiteru repeated in his head, swallowing. Could he live up to that?

“I’m L. Pleasure to meet you,” said L, holding out a knobby hand for Yukiteru to shake. The fourteen-year-old took and shook it awkwardly. L had a dead-fish handshake. Yukiteru couldn’t help but notice as the new member wiped his hand on his jeans after the fact.

He furrowed his brow. “Okay, so again, I’m first of all really sorry you’re stuck here…but this is a battle royal kind of game. We’re all…from different realities, um, wow this sounds really crazy.” He rubbed at the back of his head. “We’re from different realities, and we’re all supposed to fight to the death, but I think the real enemies are the game masters – we met—” He cut himself off, remembering Aureus’s warning. “…Well, we know a few things, like where the control center is. The problem is that in order to get in, we have to have the cooperation of everyone in the game… There are a few people who want to create chaos, though, and that means that they need to be taken down.” Yukiteru gestured to himself and to A-ya. “A-ya and I are Group 3. We had two other members, but, um…” His eyes clouded for a moment before he continued. “…My point is that my goal, what I want is for all four of us to make it out of here, okay?”

“If it’s a battle royal we’re in,” said Mustang, touching his chin with a smile, eyes closed, “…then I know we’ll win! You have me on your side.” He smiled a proud, lopsided smile while jutting his gloved thumb at his chest.

“I simply dislike the idea of losing,” L agreed, scratching at one leg with his opposite foot. Yukiteru noticed he wasn’t wearing shoes or socks. “If I could ask, though…how did we get here?”

“Um, teleportation devices, maybe,” said Yukiteru. “They said at the beginning that they wouldn’t explain it.”

Mustang furrowed his brow, confused.

“Interesting,” L remarked. “Was it mentioned what ‘realm’ we’re in now?”

“Ah…” Yukiteru clinched his eyebrows together, lost. “I’m…not sure. We were never told. What about…oh! So, what can you guys do? I have good throwing aim myself, and I have darts… But there are people in this game that are android-demon-things or half-parasites or ghouls or whatever, so… A-ya has his scissors, but both of us are pretty normal.”

“Darts?” Mustang repeated.

“I am a detective,” stated L. “I don’t go out much. By that I mean I would never willingly go out. In fact, other than a more recent case I’ve been working on, I have not. Unfortunately, it seems that I need to for this… ah, game.” He looked down at his bare feet, wiggling his toes. “Also, it’s highly unfortunate I don’t have any shoes at this time. I will refuse socks in any situation, but shoes might help. Abilities…” He scratched at his thick hair, tilting his head. “I think… well, the power of deduction is my most powerful of skills. In addition, I know the Brazilian martial art of Capoeira.”

“I,” said Mustang, “am the Flame Alchemist.” Clenching his fist with pride, he frowned. “Being from different realms, you obviously don’t know what that means.” He turned with an almost dramatic air. “But I’m skilled in Flame Alchemy – that is, I make fire with a snap of my fingers.”

Yukiteru’s jaw dropped. “Wow, really? Cool!” Mustang smirked at the praise, closing his eyes and reveling in the moment.

“If you could, then, Amano-kun, could I ask—?”

“Please, Yukiteru’s fine, um, L,” Yukiteru said hastily, waving his hands in front of him.

L nodded. “Okay. Yukiteru-kun, if I may, could you explain the true objective of this game? I’d like to have a more complete understanding of exactly what is going on…” He began looking around for somewhere to crouch, but couldn’t find a suitable area. He scratched at his head again, lost. “Hm.”

“I would also like to know as much as possible,” Mustang agreed seriously. “The layout of the land, anything about the game masters, who else is in the game…”

“Well, we have a running theory on what’s really going on around here, but A-ya explains it way better than I can, so he can do the talking from here,” Yukiteru grinned, and turned to the darker boy. “A-ya, your turn!”

A-ya remained immobile on the large rock he’d settled on. His head was bowed, and he didn’t respond to his name.

“…A-ya?” Yukiteru went over to his friend, worried. What if he’d passed out from exhaustion? They hadn’t slept, and much like this L person, A-ya did have the same deep bags under his eyes.  Maybe he’d finally tapped out? “A-ya?” he repeated, kneeling in front of the rock before him and trying to peer into his face.

Roy Mustang and L looked at one another. They gave one another a nod of acknowledgment before returning to inspecting Yukiteru. Both of them were respectfully silent – neither of them had yet spoken to A-ya, after all.

Yukiteru could make out A-ya’s face in the shadow of his own head now – his eyes were open, gazing flatly into nowhere as though there was nothing to look at. Yukiteru felt his heart stop – those red eyes looked as empty and unseeing as they had when he’d found A-ya dead.

Fear gripping Yukiteru, he forgot about L and Mustang and lifted A-ya’s head tentatively, eyes searching A-ya’s blank face in a panic. “A-ya, A-ya, what’s wrong…? Please, please come back to me, here… A-ya…” His eyes stared right through him. Yukiteru thought that maybe he saw them flicker, but it was only to avoid eye contact.  Biting his lip, Yukiteru didn’t know what to do as he pulled A-ya into a hug. “It’ll be fine, okay? Don’t shut down on me… Please…” Despair made Yukiteru’s stomach drop. He’d lost A-ya once—maybe he never actually got him back.

It was Mustang that stepped forward. “Yukiteru.”

“…Huh? Um, yes, Co…lonel Mustang?” Yukiteru swallowed. He’d forgotten about them already.

The military colonel held up a hand. “For here…you can call me Roy. I’m Roy Mustang; pleased to meet you. Yukiteru… you don’t need to mourn the loss of this friend.”

Yukiteru blinked his perplexed blue eyes at him, not understanding.

Roy took off his blue hat, sighing heavily. “You’ve already lost two members, you said. Is that correct?”

He nodded dumbly.

“They will not die in vain. Yukiteru, you still have A-ya at your side. A-ya, you still have Yukiteru. I don’t know the battles you have seen, but you’re not looking into the eyes of the dead, Yukiteru. I can promise you that in his eyes there is a fire – those aren’t empty but filled with the potential for undeterrable determination. You two have made it this far; you are not helpless; you are not worthless. You are fighters, and you have made it to this point where we stand right now. The deaths of your comrades will not be in vain, and for better or for worse, we will fight until the end to face the game masters that must be overthrown. Do you hear me?”

Yukiteru gazed at him in awe and admiration, while L merely nodded. “Well said,” L commented.

A-ya had stirred, his red eyes looked sadly upon Roy Mustang of Amestris. He couldn’t put into words that it was him, A-ya, who had stabbed his best friend in the neck. But at the same time, wouldn’t it all still be alright if they had never been thrown into this game? Wasn’t that also true?

Slowly, A-ya got to his feet, bringing Yukiteru with him as they stood on the rock together as if it were some kind of podium. He composed himself, then looked at Roy. “…Thank you,” he nodded, and Roy gave a determined smile and a satisfied nod. He took a deep breath, as though he were reviving himself right then and there. There was a long pause. “I… finally understand this game’s plot,” he said, and the three others all looked at him. “I… already, have lost something very important to me…” His eyes clouded, but it was at that moment that he straightened, red eyes bright with conviction. “But that’s the very reason I’m going to make it to the end of this game. ‘This game is fake’… Think about it; when you go to a play you’ve never seen before, you don’t know what it’ll be like until you take the time to watch the performance. You don’t know what the music will be like in an album you’ve never heard before if you only look at the song titles – you need to listen to the music. For all you know, there isn’t even any music on the disc.

“The only one that knows is the makers. The performers. The listeners, the watchers. The witnesses. If no one were to watch this game, then it would never even happen – it’s kind of like the theory of Schrodinger’s cat!” A-ya’s mouth contorted into a twisted, if enlightened, smile. He spread his arms. “Without the people who want to see the outcome, there would be no ending! But the problem of the matter is that the people running this game already know the ending. This preconceived notion of the end is what the witness thinks will happen, and this outcome is what had been repeated here and elsewhere just because we’ve come to believe it too. However, this game is a lie – the rules are only in place to give it some structure. I’ve died once already!” Yukiteru stiffened in surprise that he knew. “If the game masters can create that, they can do it for anyone, at any time. They are incredibly powerful, but they only use their powers selectively. It’s all for the purpose of the game. But…” He shook his head.

“…But they’re relying on the fact that we’ll follow the rules they’ve set up, when really there aren’t any rules at all,” he continued. “They didn’t want alliances in the beginning, and I think it was just because with alliances allowed, there is the potential to create a complete alliance that nullifies the game in its entirety. The interesting part of that fact is that the objective of the game isn’t to be the last one standing, even though that was the goal we were given in the very beginning: the true objective is to find the game masters. If we can find the game masters, the game could potentially have never even happened. It’s all pointless—no, it’s all just entertainment, looking for the perfect end!

“Like Yukiteru said, we need complete cooperation from all of the players to reach them, which is exactly the paradox they are trying to create – the game masters purposefully place people in this game that they know would only create more chaos. They’re setting us up with the oldest tricks to play, and everyone’s buying it. So there are fights, again and again, and people are dying for stupid reasons. There’s a killer in this game possessed by a demon, and I think that he’s regenerated by now. Even if he’d been killed, there would be a new power player set in motion by the game masters… Because they want to drag this on as long as possible to get as much entertainment as they can before it’s over. Because, at the end… At the end, everything can go back to normal. They have every ability to do so.

“Roy, L, I hope we can all work together well. Yukiteru and I, as of right now, have special items that are better than any you can find on the game field. We expect them to be relatively powerful, and only we can use them. With these items, and with L’s martial arts, and with your fire-starting ability, we’ll have a way better chance of getting rid of any power players that come our way.” He stepped down from the rock and picked up a stick on the ground. “The playing field isn’t too terribly large.” He drew a square in the dirt while the others watched. In the top left corner, he drew an x. “We’re here.” He began to draw as he spoke. “There’s woods just south of us, and some more houses below that. A park…here. This is the city in the middle and in the north…the shopping district… This is the field where the last battle took place. East of there was woods, and there’s a dirt road connecting this area to here…” He paused. “We haven’t reached the boundaries ourselves, but Shinichi mentioned that there was some kind of invisible force field.”

“If that field is controlled by the game masters,” said L, tentatively taking a stick of his own with only his thumb and index finger, “then it’s likely more of a dome shape.” He modified the square to be more of a circle. “That would be the easiest control, or else the corners would be weak,” he explained, tapping at each corner.

“And if that’s the case, the control center should be directly in the middle,” said Roy, pointing to the center of the circle. “Am I correct in that assumption?”

“All things considered, these people are probably high above or underground,” agreed L, and the two of them looked at A-ya for confirmation.

A-ya was grinning in satisfaction. “That’s—exactly right!”

“I’m sure the four of us can learn to work together just fine,” Roy smiled, closing his eyes. Yukiteru released a sigh of relief, laughing a bit.

“Yes, let’s get this done,” said L, and A-ya pointed to the sky.

“We’re getting out of here,” he said with determination. “We’ll defy you! We’ll make it!”

“Yeah!” Yukiteru cried, and the newly replenished Group 3 looked to the future with bright eyes. From here, A-ya began discussing all of the other groups; their strengths and their weaknesses, and so on…

 

Chapter 29: You Win Some, You Lose Some

Chapter Text

 

Roppi woke from dark, dead slumber, red eyes opening slowly to muted light. He was alone in the room, as requested. No one was around. The first thing he noticed was that his arm was no longer throbbing incessantly as it had been ever since he had to wrench it from the ground that Kuroha had shattered. It had been broken before then, but after that his arm had been really fucked up. And it’s not like he’d let anyone near him to treat it…

At first, all was of a ringing silence. Roppi lay there on his back, staring at the ceiling. His mind went through a recap of yesterday, over and over. Tsuki is dead. Psyche is dead. Both of them are dead. Shizuo is dead. Yukine is dead.

…Tsuki is…

He brought his black-sleeved arm over his eyes, closing his lids and wishing for oblivion. The loss turning itself over in his chest, it metamorphosed into that ugly form of bitterness that Roppi clung to for survival.

Removing his arm from his eyes, he sat up slowly, breathing a sigh. His eyes were alight with cold fire. Rubbing at his arm, he noticed that it felt completely unbroken. Had it all been some wicked nightmare? But he’d awoken in the same office building.

Giving a tch, he curled up, leaning against the wall and listening to anything that could be heard around him. Where were the others? Above, below? Had they left him behind? At this point he felt like the last option would be most ideal. But as he listened, he could hear their voices: Seidou, Shintaro. Kaneki, Shirazu. As his ears adjusted to the waking world, he began to make out another voice; no, two.

Eyes opening with icy annoyance, he looked around the room. Something had changed about it after all. On the far end, opposite of Roppi, there were two items. The raven-haired boy stood before wandering over to them. One of the items was a pen, but that was not what caught the eye of Roppi. No, he was gazing at the impressive-looking machine gun beside it.

He lifted the weapon, cradling it carefully in his healed arms. Glancing at the paper beneath it, he saw that it belonged to someone by the name of Kiritsugu Emiya.

“Who the fuck is Kiritsugu Emiya?” Roppi uttered to himself, and lifted the pen to see the name Light Yagami. He clucked his tongue and set the pen down. He thought on this. Was there another game going on? No…no, did this game get new team members? His eyes narrowed in crimson distaste. He didn’t want to deal with anyone at all, let alone new members.

Looking back to where he had slept, an idea formed in his head. Without expression, he picked up the paper that read ‘Kiritsugu Emiya’ and walked over to where he had slept – right beside an air vent. Setting down the paper and machine gun carefully, he gripped at the screws with the tips of his fingers and twisted. Grimacing in frustration and irritation at this painstaking task, he eventually succeeded in getting the grate to be able to pivot upwards, thereby opening the vent for his access.

Mouth twisting in gratification, he set the machine gun and paper inside the vent – it just barely fit inside. He then closed the vent and twisted the screw back in, slightly looser than last time so he could get to it more easily next time around.

After that, he checked the evidence. Everything looked fine. Shrugging at his work, he began heading down the stairs to where he heard the others talking. Finding the meeting room door opened, he walked in and leaned on the wall just next to the doorway without hesitation. There were two people here he didn’t recognize – he knew for a fact they weren’t people from another existing group, in any case. One looked like one of those kiss-ass goody two-shoes that he couldn’t stand, and the other looked like some shady character from a mystery novel. Great.

They were talking about the strengths and weaknesses of the other groups when Kiritsugu asked about the boy standing by the door.

“Hey, Roppi’s up,” Seidou said, sounding happy about it. “Come on over and sit down. These are Kaneki and Shirazu’s new team members.” He gestured to Kiritsugu and Light.

“Kiritsugu and Light, respectively,” Kaneki confirmed, eyes closed.

“I’m…fine over here,” Roppi answered.

“I’m guessing you must be Roppi?” inquired Light. “Pleased to meet you.”

“I think it’s safe to say you’re Light,” Roppi frowned. “It’d be too annoyingly ironic for that shady guy to be named that.”

Light laughed. “That’s true – I am Light, in any case.”

“What do you guys do, then, huh? I must’ve missed intros,” Roppi commented coolly. “I’m going to bet that you’re just a student – straight A’s, I’m sure.” He glanced at Seidou. “Number one in the class?”

“Well, I guess that’s right…” Light rubbed at the back of his head, sheepish, while Seidou furrowed his brow at Roppi. Roppi only smirked, shrugging. “You seem a good judge of character.” Light, on the other hand, seemed pleased by the praise.

I bet he’s a prideful piece of shit, he thought. “Yeah, but I have to know what’s up with this Kiritsugu guy; he looks like he’s from a spy movie.”

“He’s an assassin!” Shirazu exclaimed, leaning forward. “How awesome is that?!”

“No need to shout,” said Kaneki.

“Er, sorry.”

“Specifically the abnormal, such as mages or…supernatural-type beings that cause people harm,” Kiritsugu explained.

“Well, I’m just glad you could join us, Roppi,” Seidou said tentatively. “I know a lot’s happened – you look a little better; I’m glad…”

Roppi shrugged and looked away.

“I, also—um…” Shintaro shied away from everyone’s eyes as their attention went to him. “…Sorry, Roppi,” he mumbled in a weak voice, and Roppi rolled his eyes.

“Apologies do shit,” Roppi said, tone acid. Shintaro seemed to wither away right there in his chair.

Seidou patted the shut-in on the back, concern etched on his face. “Well, we have a plan we’re about to execute – no fighting involved, just preparation. But we’re going to have to do some moving around…”

“We’re planning on heading to the special items pillar in the northern part of the city,” said Kaneki. “Where our groups first made their alliance.”

“So, where Delic died,” Roppi said.

The atmosphere changed instantly.

“Well… yes. That’s right,” Seidou confirmed.

“I’ve gotta say,” Roppi sighed, “I think that Kaneki needs to eat something soon, or he’s going to do something really stupid next battle. If we’re headed in that direction, I’d suggest you eat his body, Kaneki.” Roppi stared him down. “Psyche even gave you permission right afterwards, didn’t he?”

Shirazu stood in outrage, but Kaneki held up a hand to silence his orange-haired teammate before he could retort in answer. “I don’t intend to eat anyone I considered friend, Roppi.”

He only shrugged. “He did always say that ‘Delic’ was short for ‘delicious.’ Just saying.”

“Roppi, I understand that what you’re going through right now really sucks,” Seidou frowned, “but that doesn’t mean you start prodding at other people, alright? You need to show a little bit of respect for the fallen. So, if you please…”

“What’s the difference?” Roppi questioned him. “They’re dead anyway, aren’t they?”

“What about Psyche and Tsuki?” Shintaro asked quietly, as though afraid to speak. “What about them?”

Roppi gazed at Shintaro with eyes of red ice. Then he began to smile. “Well, Psyche was a performer after all. I guess he finally choked,” he sneered.

Kaneki stood, and everyone bit back their responses. Roppi looked at him, waiting to see what he’d do. His eyes challenged the half-ghoul as the ghost-like boy walked calmly to Roppi. His black-nailed hand came down on Roppi’s cheek sharply, with a satisfying clap that resounded in the meeting room. It effectively wiped the smile from Roppi’s face.

“The dead deserve respect,” Kaneki spoke coldly. “Hold your tongue. I know that you’re hurting, but that gives you no right to make others hurt. Do you understand?”

Roppi glowered at him silently. Seidou had stood when Kaneki had slapped him; Shintaro was staring in shock. Shirazu’s mouth was open as he stared. Kiritsugu and Light were remaining respectfully silent in this conflict, observing the dynamics between everyone.

“Do you understand?” Kaneki repeated.

Roppi bowed his head, eyes smoldering. “Whatever. You said we’re heading out, right?”

“Th…that’s right,” said Seidou, gesturing to the other four to stand. “We can eat breakfast on the way – I think that’s more efficient, anyway…”

“Where’s Tsuki’s bag?” asked Roppi. His tone was low; more subdued.

“Oh, it’s right over here, Roppi…,” said Seidou. “Why do you ask?”

“Can…I be the one to carry it?” He shifted from foot to foot, avoiding eye contact.

After sparing a glance at Shintaro only to find that he, too, was avoiding eye contact, Seidou gave Roppi a warm expression and brought over the beige satchel filled with medical supplies. “Of course you can, Roppi. It’s only right.”

Roppi nodded and took the bag carefully. “Oh, eh… Light, your weapon is up where I was sleeping.”

“Ah—thank you,” Light said, and Roppi sensed his apprehension.

“Roppi…” – Kaneki’s eyes had softened – “I apologize for striking you. I hope you understand why I did it.”

Roppi only shrugged and looked away.

The group went up to where Roppi had been and found Light’s pen, much to Light’s stifled disappointment. Kaneki asked whether he was a writer, to which Light responded with a tight, “Well—in a sense, I guess so, but…”

Though Kiritsugu seemed somewhat bothered by his lack of weaponry, he explained that he may not have gotten one due to the possibility of him using magic. The group of seven then gathered all of their things and prepared to leave. Shirazu held onto all the food, and Seidou held onto a bag full of blankets and such. Roppi held tightly onto Tsuki’s medical bag, as though to his memory. As they stepped out of the northern door to begin on their way, Roppi stopped.

Seidou turned, eyes questioning. “Roppi? What is it?”

“I forgot something inside.” His tone was hollow. “Sorry…”

“Go ahead and grab it,” Seidou said easily. “We can wait for you.”

Nodding wordlessly, Roppi returned to the building. They waited for him, and Light started idle conversation; the new members tried to get a better handle on the situation just as the original players were trying to get a handle on what these new members were like. As time passed, there still was no sign of Roppi. They all began to wonder what was taking him this long.

“What’s keeping him?” Seidou mumbled, rubbing at the back of his head.

“I don’t suppose something happened to him…,” mused Light.

Shintaro, however, was beginning to panic. “What if he’s not okay?” he asked seriously. “What if he did something—something stupid?”

“Oh, God,” Seidou said blankly, and the two of them ran in.

“Ah…” Light touched his chin in concern while Kaneki’s ears began to ring out of worry. What if this was his fault?

Shirazu got more and more restless. “Should we help ‘em? I don’t wanna just wait here…”

“But our new…”

“We can help,” Light said kindly.

“With more people, it’s more efficient,” Kiritsugu agreed.

The four of them split up upon reentering the office building each speeding to a different floor. Kaneki, who had jumped all the way up the stairs to take the fourth floor (Light was relatively shocked, while Kiritsugu was vaguely impressed), found Shintaro leaning against a wall of windows, looking dejected.

Kaneki ran to him. “Shintaro, what’s wrong?”

“…Roppi isn’t here,” Shintaro said flatly, avoiding eye contact.

Kaneki searched his face for an answer, and was about to ask what he meant when the loudspeaker came on, as if on cue. The omnipotent voice spoke: “There has been a development, dear players! For the first time in this game, a player has gone rogue from their own group! Because of this, all special items pillars will be set to activate once approached even if not all group members are present. To everyone, good luck!”

Kaneki looked at Shintaro, who nodded slightly before bowing his head. The half-ghoul drew his lips into a thin line. Somewhere else in the building, he could hear the shout of frustration from Seidou.

“Maybe…” said Shintaro, “…we should just continue north like we planned, huh?”


After taking his leave from the groups and heading back into the building, Roppi headed straight up the stairs to where he had slept the night before, re-opened the vent, and took the machine gun. He went down to the lounge where Seidou had left the extra ammo that initially had no use for any of them because Roppi’s own gun was kaput, and then, with the ammo over one shoulder and Tsuki’s bag slung over the other, he held onto that machine gun and swiftly exited via the southern door, opposite where his group was meeting. From there, he just ran, and ran, and ran.

He’d make up his own group now.


“So in the end,” explained Izaya, “this isn’t actually a ‘last man standing’ kind of game. Sorry, Suzuya, but my personal goal is to create the ultimate alliance. If everyone is allied against the game, there is no game! It’s no fun that way, so the puppeteers will get bored and we can get out of here and back where we belong.” The three of them were walking down the dirt road to the other traditional house, where Izaya knew there was a special items pillar. They were already heading back south after reaching the upside-down ‘y’ turn.

“Oo-kay. But then the ones that keep trying to kill us anyway—we kill them,” said Suzuya. “Right?”

“Correct! Because anyone that wants to create chaos certainly wouldn’t make for being a very good ally. They’ll be the people who want to be the ‘last one standing’ instead, just because they happen to like the carnage.”

“I kind of wonder…,” said Twelve thoughtfully, trailing off and staring up at the sky.

“Hm? What is it, Twelve?” Izaya inquired, skipping ahead of the other two and walking backwards in front of the brunette.

“Why were we brought in; Suzuya and I? I know you made the choice that you’d mentioned, but why had that option opened up in the first place?”

Suzuya blinked at him, bemused.

Izaya smiled. “I think it might be that half the people originally in the game have died.”

“What if that was the goal of the game all along, then?” he asked.

“Hah? How do you mean? Do tell.”

“See… if this game was really a fight-to-the-death kind of deal, bringing in more game players just makes it a whole lot longer, doesn’t it? Half are disposed of, so you replenish the game. What if the same thing happens when half of who we have now are dead? Even if the original members end up getting recycled to the point that it’s not even the same game it was in the beginning, these ‘Emina Games’ would continue on forever as long as at least one person buys into the idea of it.” He tilted his head as he continued staring into the sky as though there were answers up there. “I bet that, in bringing all these new members in, there’s gotta be at least one person brought in that’s really strong who wants to make all of that chaos, you know? Or that demon you mentioned has to have regenerated – these game masters are going to make sure that there’s always some kind of conflict going on, or the game would be stagnant. But because of the fact that these guys need to be killed off, it tricks the peaceful members into having to fight anyway, getting a lot of them killed in the process. The game repeats itself. And then, once that power player’s defeated, another one shows up as long as people feel the need to protect themselves. It’s all a ploy to distract the players from the real enemy: the game masters themselves. I think you’re absolutely right about making the ultimate alliance…but I think that when the game masters created this game, they had to have had that outcome in mind all along. They’re just waiting for someone to come looking for them. The goal of the game was never to be the last one standing, because no matter how strong you are or how hard you try, the game masters will keep bringing in more players. It’s impossible to win that way—no, the real objective of the game was finding them all along.” Twelve looked at Izaya. “So really, you just played right into their hands by asking for us to get involved!” And he laughed.

Suzuya looked at Izaya, waiting for some form of response, but at first Izaya only frowned at Twelve. “Ah, well, I also thought it would make things more interesting for myself, so I guess it might’ve been a selfish choice,” the informant shrugged. “But anyway, if both of you are in with my plan as you seem to be, it’ll all work out, right?”

“That it will,” Twelve grinned, and at that moment was when the Voice gave its announcement on the first person to go AWOL and the consequent effect on the special items pillars.

“Well that’s convenient,” Izaya laughed. “Yato’s not with us.”

“It wasn’t Yato, was it?” asked Suzuya, picking at his lower lip again.

“No, no,” Izaya waved him off. “He’s still sleeping, I’m sure – and if he isn’t, I know him well enough to understand that even if I can annoy him, he’s going to stick around and help me out.”

Twelve laughed a bit. “Sounds good,” he said, while Suzuya shrugged.

They continued on their way to the second traditional home to find someone sitting on the edge of the front porch, feet hanging down. They seemed to be waiting for the three of them – he had hair of silver and a light blue jacket, opened to reveal a white collared shirt and a black tie. The hood of his jacket contrasted with the rest as a blue-green. As they grew closer, they could see his eyes shone a sharp pink-red. He smiled at them as they approached with utmost caution. He held papers in his hands.

“Hey there. I’ve been waiting for someone to come by,” this mystery boy said. Izaya, Suzuya, and Twelve had stopped. Suzuya was very much ready to swing his scythe on this guy, who looked to be only fourteen. This person stood, sliding off of the porch and approaching the three. He held out his hand. “I’m Aru Akise, pleased to meet you.” His tone was smooth.

Izaya shook his hand, masking his suspicion with a big, sly smile. “I’m Izaya Orihara – it’s my pleasure.”

“Are you Group 6?”

“…That’s right.”

Akise nodded, and looked to Twelve and Suzuya. “Then, that’s Twelve,” he said to Twelve, and swiveled his head to the other, “…and Suzuya-san?”

“How’d you know?” Suzuya asked, eyes narrowing.

Akise laughed a good-natured laugh. “I found these papers, here – I think they belong to Orihara-san, but it says Group 6’s members, besides an Izaya Orihara, also has someone related to love and terrorism named Twelve and another related to sadism named Suzuya-san. Considering the ‘double-open heart’ shirt and the grenades, I figured the former was you,” – he pointed to Twelve – “…and the latter was Suzuya, considering you’ve got that scythe there and it looks like you want to decapitate me if I say the wrong thing.” Akise shrugged. “I think it’s a pretty cool-looking scythe, if you asked me. What kind of thing do you do, for a living, I mean?”

“Uh—” Suzuya blinked, and lowered his weapon. “I’m a CCG officer.” He picked at his lip. “A ghoul investigator.”

“Really! That sounds interesting!” Akise smiled a cool, pleasant smile. “I’d love to be a detective, myself. A bit different, but the same kind of excitement can come out of it. Life can be interesting so long as you’re in the right places.” He nodded to Twelve. “And you?”

“Well, I’m a terrorist!” Twelve answered brightly.

“A terrorist, huh? You seem young for a terrorist.”

“You seem young for a detective, Akise-kun.” Twelve grinned. “But if you’re ahead of the game like you already seem to be, well, I think you’d make a pretty good detective already! Not bragging or anything, but I’m a pretty good terrorist, myself. Nine and I create tons of interesting mysteries for detectives like you!” He laughed joyfully. “You have a pretty voice, Akise-kun. I hope you know that.”

“Really? Hm… Thank you.” He touched his chin, smiling a bit. “I’ve never been told that, Twelve… I appreciate the compliment.” He turned to Izaya. “And what about Orihara-san? I’m assuming he’s our leader.”

“That I am, but you can call me Izaya, Akise-kun,” Izaya smiled his cruel smile in response, bowing to him and spreading the ends of his Eskimo-like jacket around his waist as he spread his arms, hands in his jacket pockets. “As for what I do, I’m an underground informant – it’s quite the interesting job. I completely agree when you say that life can always be interesting if you’re in the right places.” His mouth twisted with slightly manic glee. “Humans are the most interesting of all, don’t you think?”

“That’s true,” Akise concurred, and held out the papers to Izaya. “I believe these are yours?”

Izaya took them with cautious but eager curiosity and leafed through the pages – it was the information sheets, unfolded and new. He felt Twelve and Suzuya trying to peer over his shoulder from behind but didn’t care. How did Akise get this, anyway? Izaya didn’t trust this kid. Well, to be fair, Izaya knew that he wasn’t trustworthy either – hell, if Izaya met himself, he sure as hell wouldn’t trust that lying bastard!

But something about this kid told him to keep on his guard. And anyway, what was up with him showing up so mysteriously here, and why did he have his information sheets? No…these files had been updated: as Izaya looked from page to page, there were names on the sheets that he, who had memorized the sheet he’d obtained on the first day of the game, did not recognize. To confirm this, he spun around to face Suzuya and Twelve so they couldn’t see the pages as he flipped to the last page to see Group 6: his group. The report had changed:

Group 6
Yato (--): calamity, forgotten, existence
Izaya Orihara (23): humans, manipulation, lonely
Twelve (19): love, hope, terrorism
Juuzou Suzuya (19): mother, humanity, sadism

Shizuo and Yukine are gone, he thought blankly, staring at the symbols on the page. He quickly closed the packet, slipping easily back into his persona. Smiling his wicked smile, he praised Akise, “Thank you very much! If I may, why is it you have this info?”

“I already told you that I wanted to be a detective,” he answered, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“That’s not an answer,” Suzuya argued, and Izaya nodded.

“Hardly is,” the informant agreed. “That’s like me saying—well, I know things you don’t just because I’m an informant!” Izaya laughed at the statement. “I like you; you’re interesting! I think I’d say the same thing.”

“I was about to say—it sounded like the perfect answer to me,” remarked Twelve.

“Though, I do have one very important question, Akise-kun,” said Izaya, stepping towards him and leaning in close.

“Yes? What is it?” Akise answered simply. His expression of calm contentedness didn’t change.

“Akise-kun, what group are you in?” He tapped the folded papers. “You’re not on these sheets.”

Akise held eye contact. “I’m in Group 6; I’m the fourth member.”

“The fourth member,” Izaya responded, “is Yato.” The silver-haired boy only shrugged, and Izaya frowned.

Suzuya and Twelve looked at one another. “You don’t think he’s dead or something, do you?” asked Suzuya plainly, and Izaya straightened, stepping away from Akise.

“No, Yato is no flimsy human. Yato is a lesser god – a god of calamity.” He looked at Suzuya. “He wouldn’t die so easily.”

“A god, a lesser… Like, some kind of angel?”

“Something like that, I’m sure,” Twelve answered. “An angel of calamity – that’s funny… Whatever it is, it sounds pretty cool.”

“Did he live on Earth, I wonder?” said Suzuya, his eyes going hazy as he gazed into something far-off. “Because… I think…that even angels would do wrong on Earth.”

“Even angels do wrong, huh?” Izaya mused, eyes cold and sharp. “Oh, Yato better not do anything foolish, now…” He looked at the other three. “Akise-kun, whether you’re in our group or not, care to join us? We’re expediting the process and heading to our base through the grass.”

Akise put his hands comfortably in his pockets. “I think that sounds good.”

“Alright!” cried Suzuya, snapping back to his childish self.

Twelve nudged Suzuya. “Hey – race you.”

“Hah!” The two shot off, and Izaya snickered.

“Vroom, vroom,” said the informant, nigh on giggling as he ran after them. “Hurry on up, Akise-kun!” he called, waving.

Akise, blinking, tilted his head curiously, cocked an eyebrow in humor, and followed behind.


Ciel sat on the edge of the bed with one leg crossed over the other, palms pressed against the sheets as he looked down on Shinichi. “Do you get it yet?” Ciel asked coolly. “You can’t get back what you’ve already lost.”

“I know that.” Shinichi’s tone was dead. He was still gripping at his right wrist.

“Shinichi, Migi is dead.”

“Maybe he’s asleep.”

“He’s dead, Shinichi. Do you really think it would be that simple to bring a player back into the game?” Ciel tilted his head, disdain in his eyes. “How disgustingly ironic – without Migi, can you even function?”

He laughed weakly. “I got you breakfast, didn’t I?”

“Yes. It tasted like crap,” Ciel answered, folding his arms over his chest.

“Oh…”

“Look. If Migi had been brought back when you were healed,” Ciel reasoned, “then he would have been immediately awake – his physical state at the beginning of the game was at its prime in terms of energy. Otherwise he would have been asleep during all of our introductions.” Shinichi was silent, and Ciel sighed. “Give it up, Shinichi. Migi is dead. I know Sebastian is dead, even though he was un-killable. It just means…that there really isn’t a single person I can trust not to die.” He grew silent, staring emptily at the ground. “Not anyone at all…”

They lapsed into silence. It filled the room thickly, threatening to drown them both. Then, Ciel diluted it with a piercing, one-eyed glare. “So if I can figure out that my demon butler is dead, one who had a blood-pact with me, who I’ve ordered never to die on me countless times before, who was the only one I could trust never to lie to me—!” He cut himself off, biting his lip. He was letting himself feel too much. “If I can at least understand that he’s dead,” he spat, “then you can at least see that Migi is dead too.”

“He isn’t coming back,” Shinichi said in some kind of despairing realization. “He really isn’t…”

“Like I said, the Voice wouldn’t let a player of the game come back so easily,” Ciel said, bitter. “When you play a game of chess, you can’t bring back any of the pieces, can you? Absolutely not. With what they have set up, what makes you think they’d let you bring Migi back?”

“He’s dead.” Shinichi stared at the floorboards with those distant, unfeeling eyes. “That’s it.” Ciel sighed in annoyed relief that he finally understood, but didn’t otherwise comment on this. Shinichi was grateful.

As he knelt there, he slowly released his right wrist – his hand felt perfectly normal. There was no Migi to come back. Even if Migi were somewhere inside him, they were only fragments – there was no way for him to actually return. The hand that had regrown wasn’t Migi; it was just a regenerated hand, as if he were some kind of humanoid starfish. No, Migi was dead and gone, and Shinichi… Shinichi had let him sacrifice himself. Migi, who was a self-preserving being that would never do such a thing… Migi, who was Shinichi’s only friend, at this point. What would have happened if he had tried to fight Kuroha? Could they have lasted? Would Migi be alive right now? What would the outcome have been?

That demon… the serpent… He had taken Migi; he had killed him, and for what purpose but out of cruelty? Shinichi saw the bloodlust in that android’s eyes. Sure, there was a method to his madness, but in the end he was just making carnage because he loved the taste of tragedy.

Migi, who at first had disgusted him – Migi, who had become a part of him – Migi, who had become his partner and friend – Migi, who had been at his side for better or for worse; who apparently cared despite all he said about not understanding human emotion… For him to sacrifice himself the way he did… In this game, wasn’t it true that all of them were just trying to survive?

How many people in this game had he let die in front of him, now? He was just nearby when three people were killed – the medic with the scarf; what did he die for? What did anyone here die for? What was the point? And why hadn’t he saved them?

A burning feeling rose in his chest, bubbling up from his insides and bursting forth, pouring from his mouth in a raw outcry of sheer rage and anguish and despair, all at once. The yell rose from a fire into the realms of icy vengeance, and he found himself swinging his fist into the ground, tearing the floor so he could see the story beneath it. Unable to express this overwhelming emotion any other way, he ripped his arm from the ground and shattered the wall – he could feel the house trembling with him in his fury.

“Sh—Shinichi, stop it!” cried Ciel, clinging to the bed. “What are you—?!”

Shinichi turned to Ciel with eyes like pits of darkness, expression contorted in his wrath. “I’m going to kill Kuroha,” he said, voice low. Ciel backed up on the bed, unsure how to respond. “And then I’m going to kill Yato, because he took something important away from you.”

Ciel opened his mouth, then closed it again, eye wide.

“And then I’m going to make sure you get out of this game… I…” He closed his eyes, then opened them to reveal kind eyes and a warm smile. “…I said I’d protect you, so I’m going to do that, okay? Don’t underestimate me – I’m different from the rest. I won’t lie to you. I won’t betray you. And you don’t have to give me anything in return.”

“…I—” Ciel was cut off by the other, who swept him up in his arms. “Shinichi!”

“We’re heading west. Let’s go.”

“Put me down, right this instant! Shinichi, I can walk on my own—! Shinichi!

 

Chapter 30: Uncomfortable Arrivals

Chapter Text

 

Groups 1 and 2 trekked north without their one missing member, each of them feeling differently on the matter. Light had made the politely-stated argument that it was better to take care and protect the people that they had together with them right now, because it would just be more dangerous to go looking for him – the initial plan was to stock up on special items, so that should continue to be their plan. Kiritsugu had agreed, bluntly explaining that obviously Roppi didn’t want to be involved, so it may well end up just putting them in danger going after him.

Shirazu didn’t agree and Kaneki felt right terrible about the whole thing, but Shintaro said lowly that whatever it was Roppi was planning on doing, he would do it no matter what they tried to do. “He doesn’t want to be helped,” the shut-in said, eyes far off. “And if he doesn’t want to be, he can’t be.”

Seidou sighed heavily. “I’m not even going to begin to explain how I feel about this right now. To think, he just up and leaves like that? And with the medical bag, no less!”

“I’m just glad…in that it means he’s looking after himself, at the very least,” said Kaneki calmly.

“If he has that much determination,” said Kiritsugu, “I imagine that he’ll do alright. Seeing that he doesn’t want to be helped, and judging by the way he’d been acting in the short time I saw him, it may be better that he’s split off. It’s possible that he would have only caused conflict.”

Seidou huffed. “No kidding,” he grumbled, looking pissed.

“I just hope he’s okay,” Shirazu said, rubbing at his head. “Swear, I really hate it, not doing anything…”

But they pressed on anyway, going over the other groups as they went. Kiritsugu was particularly interested in the species to be described. Other than humans, there were demons, gods, spirits, ghouls, parasites, and androids…possessed by demons. So there was some explaining to be done. The formal discussion helped bring everyone’s mind off of Roppi, at least for the time. It was one of those things you can’t really get rid of. From the topic of species, Kiritsugu went on to explain that there was one other new player from his realm: Rin Tohsaka.

“The Voice said that she was from the same realm as I was…the Realm of the Holy Grail,” said the Magus Killer. “The Tohsaka family has a bloodline of very powerful mages… She’s likely a mage, though I don’t know her myself. I do, however, know a relative of hers.”

“Holy Grail…huh?” Kaneki touched his chin. There was a part of him stirring that he forgot existed. He closed his eyes, tales of King Arthur dancing behind his eyelids. Of Sir Lancelot and Guinevere and Merlin, of old hardcover books held in his own small hands, leafing through well-loved pages of stories whose binding was weak and worn. The musty smell of his dead father’s study filled his senses – he was reading to himself while his mother worked; he was only in elementary. Books; they had been his sanctuary. For years, no, even now…

…When was the last time he’d been able to read a book? Six months ago…, he thought dimly, opening lost orbs. I wonder…if Hide will be alright.

“Yes. The Holy Grail is a wish-granting item that is sought by mages all over the world,” Kiritsugu explicated.

“From Arthurian legend,” Kaneki said softly.

“Correct.” Kiritsugu’s expression didn’t change. He glanced at Kaneki. “Seeing as all of you are from different worlds than my own, I don’t see any reason not to tell you this: Saber, my Heroic Spirit, is King Arthur of legend. Heroic Spirits are the spirits of those who have perished, but who are raised and worshipped by humans for their good deeds in life. They’re used as weapons in the Holy Grail War.”

“Sounds like a TV show I watched,” mumbled Shintaro, not looking up from the ground. He was merely spared a glance.

“There’s no way there could be a Holy Grail War without King Arthur himself,” Kaneki chuckled. “Amazing… To think, yours is a world where legends can come to life…”

“They’re actually pretty deadly, Kaneki-san.”

“They’re legends, after all,” said Light warmly. “I can think of lots of legends that, even though I love them, I’m not too sure I’d want to see them become reality.”

“Hm…” Kaneki touched his chin, remembering that his favorite tales had always been tragedies.

“To be frank, I am hoping to find Saber at one of these ‘special items pillars’ you’ve mentioned.”

“I guess we’ll find out when we reach it,” said Seidou. He’d been unsure what to contribute to the ‘King Arthur’ conversation. The orange-haired Shirazu, on the other hand, had been absolutely clueless.

“I’d say so – though speaking of knowing something about the new members,” said Light, “I know that L person that was mentioned.”

“Yeah?” Shirazu tilted his head.

“In my world, L is the world’s most powerful detective,” Light enlightened them. “A man with many respectable accomplishments… although he’s pretty strange in person. He’s… very smart, and very quirky. His strategizing skills are phenomenal – I do want to try and meet up with him at some point.” Because after all, if I weren’t to want to find him in this situation, then I’d be more likely to be Kira, especially after that announcement. If I want to find him regardless, and still want to work with him side-by-side, then I can still go with the idea that I was falsely accused by whoever’s running this game… If I avoid L, I’m as good as guilty.

“Well, we’ll ally with him if we can,” said Kaneki.

“It kinda depends on who he’s workin’ with, too. If he’s stuck with the assholes, we’d have some trouble gettin’ him with us, y’know?” said Shirazu. “Not ‘cause he wants to be with ‘em, but because he’s gotta be, unless he escapes. They might kill ‘im; I sure hope not, though… Jesus, I hope Roppi’s alright!”

“Me too…,” Seidou sighed. “…Even though I’m still really pissed off.”

“Yeah, the first thing I think I’ll do to ‘im is kick him in the fuckin’ face, that ass!” Shirazu shouted, and Kaneki put his hand on his back to calm him. The half-ghoul was about to speak when the Voice once again began with an announcement.

“Hello again, players! I think there is something I need to inform all of you about. This has been going on for some time now, but I believe it’s time to shed some light on the situation all of you are in… You see, players, as we speak, there is another game going on!”

Groups 1 and 2 stopped walking. Kaneki, Seidou, Shintaro, and Shirazu were most alarmed, while Kiritsugu and Light were just bemused. The former were reminded of the reveal given earlier in-game, but the fact the Voice was bringing it up now meant that something must be going on.

Throughout the game field, all groups halted in their movements, filled with a mixture of shock, anger, and confusion. “In this second game,” continued the game master, “there are only females involved – or rather…there were only females involved. Now, that game has ended! With eight remaining members of that game, they will be now integrated into this one! They could show up anywhere, really, so be aware of these eight new members! If there’s anyone you know personally, they’ll likely be teleported nearby your group, so fear not! Enjoy the surprise, everybody – I hope you can accommodate!”

With that, the Voice was silent.

“Ayano,” Shintaro whispered, and a flash of light appeared perhaps 300 meters away. They all looked at one another, and before it had even died out, Kaneki, Shirazu, Light, and Shintaro all ran for the site. Seidou froze up. Kiritsugu stood by.

There were three people who materialized there. A girl in her late teens with light blue hair pulled into somehow-still-neat pigtails, short and plump, staggered at the scene change, tired eyes wide – Saiko Yonebayashi. A girl with violet hair parted to the side collapsed instantly, barely remaining on hands and knees; her breathing was heavy, her nice clothing tattered and bloody – Touka Kirishima. Lastly, there was a woman with pale blond hair, bangs pulled into a braid that was then pulled into a bun. Strands had fallen out, messily hanging about her weary face. Though she staggered, she straightened her posture and stood tall, black tights ripped, white attire soiled with reds and browns – Akira Mado.

“Saiko!” Shirazu yelped, speeding forward. “Mado-san!”

At the same time, Kaneki exclaimed, “Touka…!” in a suppressed sort of way.

Then there was Seidou, standing frozen behind them, staring at the woman with the pale blond hair, face going pale in color itself. “…Mado…” Yes, the number one in his class. The top dog. The one who always beat him, who didn’t care. The one that he loathed. The one that he saw as his rival. The one that Shintaro had convinced him he needed to apologize to, and yet…

“Shiragin!” Saiko cried, jumping into the orange-haired one’s arms. “Y…your hair is back!” she exclaimed happily.

Shirazu caught her. “What? The hell’s that mean?!” he demanded. “No, no—Mado-san! Is Mado-san alright?”

“I’m fine,” Akira answered, refined. “Please, Touka…”

“Touka, are you okay?” Kaneki asked seriously, sliding on his knees to meet her. Shintaro scrambled after him, desperate to help even though the lack of Ayano frightened him.

“Kh—” she began, then began to cough, hacking out blood.

“She needs medical attention,” Akira ordered.

“The medical bag,” Shintaro whispered. Roppi has it. He heard Light tch beside him – he’d thought of it too.

“She needs a place to rest. Now.”

Kaneki eyed the quinque that Akira held, then looked up into her face. She was serious. Had they, too, made an alliance together from the game they’d played? As Akira stared back at him, stone-faced, recognition played across her features. “Sasaki…” Her eyes softened. “Ken Kaneki?”

“I…yes.” The half-ghoul didn’t know how to take that look.

“Akira Mado,” Akira said bluntly.

“Saiko, that’s a younger Sassan, actually,” Shirazu informed the blue-haired Saiko, who stared at Kaneki for a moment before pouncing on him.

“Maman!” she cried. Kaneki was lost as to how to respond, but he distractedly patted her head.

“Mado-san,” Kaneki began, but she held up a hand.

“Please, call me Akira. Take us to the nearest base. No time to discuss. We’re going to try to save her.” Her eyes narrowed. “At all costs.”

Kaneki nodded wordlessly, lifting Touka bridal style in his arms. She grimaced, attempting to open an eye to look at him. Kaneki noticed that she looked older than he remembered – perhaps she was out of time with him too. She kind of vaguely smiled at him through the grimace, her eye somehow at peace through the pain. “Ka—neki…,” she choked out.

“Be quiet,” said Akira, and Kaneki stood. “We don’t want you hurting yourself worse.”

“Akira, I have you,” said Saiko, trying to give her superior support. Unfortunately, she proved as more of an armrest then anything with her short stature, only proving to set Akira a bit off-balance. By then, Kiritsugu had joined the party.

“Is there anything we can do?” asked Light.

“Hurry up,” Akira answered bluntly.

Light nodded. “Right… The best thing to do is find the nearest hospital.”

“The game area was the same,” Akira said, looking upwards. “I recognize this street. The hospital is two blocks east.”

There were some nods of comprehension.

“Um—” Shintaro painfully decided not to ask about Ayano for right now. “I—do you want to use me for support?”

“You’re not strong like that,” said Seidou, grudgingly joining in, stepping forward with averted eyes. “Kiritsugu, Kaneki, and I should help. Kaneki is taking care of that girl; I will offer my aid.” Seidou sounded very flat, like he was forcing himself to say these words. “Mado, if you will allow me to…”

Akira stood, wide-eyed and paralyzed. It seemed as though the breath had been leeched from her lungs. “Takizawa…”

Seidou huffed, crossing his arms tight over his chest. “Don’t be all tongue-tied, Mado – call me Seidou; it saves time,” he snipped. “You said we have to hurry, don’t we? So let’s go. Which side do you need support?”

“My—left.” Light and Kiritsugu noted how white she looked when she saw him. They didn’t know the relationship, but both of them had a rather extreme reaction to the other, so they both knew something was going on here.

“If we need to hurry, we should carry the weak,” said Kiritsugu. “Seidou, carry her. I’ll carry another if we need to go fast. Seidou, you said you were trained, yes? So both of us can run while carrying someone.”

Seidou swallowed and nodded. He was having to do far more than he expected for his rival.

“But why do you need to carry me?” Light frowned, indignant.

“Are you physically trained well enough to run as fast as us?” Kiritsugu answered, and Light shrugged and conceded his point. “And the blue-haired one?” asked Kiritsugu.

“I can run,” Saiko said, giving him a peace sign.

“Uh—” Shintaro began, but Shirazu scooped him up with ease.

“I’ve got the hikkiNEET!” Shirazu proclaimed, ignoring Shintaro’s yelp of protest. “Let’s go!”

Kiritsugu grabbed Light, and they all ran two blocks east to the nearest hospital.


“Oh boy,” said Yukiteru to the ceiling, nervous. They’d gathered some supplies, and though there was much that needed to be done, Yukiteru had suggested to all of them that they take some time to relax. A-ya and him hadn’t slept the night before, and Yukiteru figured that Roy and L should take some time to settle with the idea of what was going on. After the time they took to gather food and tools, an hour or two relaxing would take them to early afternoon. It was perhaps noontime now, and they’d just heard the news of the females coming in.

Now Yukiteru was sitting on the end of a bed he’d found in one of the bedrooms, tying the laces of his boots up and putting his hat back on his dark-haired head. He’d never gotten to sleep. A-ya was already at the door when Yukiteru opened it – they nodded at one another and headed downstairs to where Roy and L were. “You mentioned a terrorist?” Roy said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah…” Yukiteru rubbed the back of his head. “We’ll…see how this goes.”

“If terrorists attack with explosions where you’re from,” Roy declared, “I will beat them easily.”

“I hope so,” Yukiteru responded, and there was a knock on the door.

Yukiteru and A-ya stiffened. Was that how it was supposed to work? Somehow, a knock on the door seemed too… ordinary.

Yukiteru went for the door while Roy went up the stairs, ready to sneak out the attic window and onto the roof to set fire to them if they were a threat. L remained crouched on a chair at the kitchen table.

When Yukiteru twisted the door handle and swung the door inward, there was a woman and a small child waiting outside. A-ya was just behind Yukiteru, standing slightly to the side so as to see and be seen.

Yukiteru did recognize the pissed-looking Minene who, although ragged-looking in her black shirt and messy, wavy, dark purple hair, looked otherwise unhurt. The small child with neatly-cut hair beside her had blue-violet hair, herself – she looked to be only seven or so, but Yukiteru figured that her age could be as old as eleven… if that.

First,” Minene growled, referring to Yukiteru, the first player in the Future Diary battle royal. She took a step inside, single eye narrowed.

I stabbed the other one out, Yukiteru thought in terror, staring at her black eye patch. She’s totally going to kill me… His fingers clicked open his pouch of darts. “N-ninth—Minene…! Um, p-please hear us out; um—this game…”

“Thank god it’s you,” she said dismissively, and shoved her way inside.

“Uh—wha?” He turned around, perplexed.

A-ya peered curiously out at the little girl, who smiled sweetly at him. “Ni~paa~” She beamed, and A-ya blinked wide red eyes.

“Ah?”

“Nii?”

“…Eh?”

“May I come in, please?” she asked politely.

“Uh, yeah…” He stepped aside to invite her, and the little girl followed behind Minene. A-ya watched Roy jump down from the roof, and A-ya shrugged at him. “I guess we’re safe, at least for now.”

Tugging at one of his gloves, Roy nodded, still on guard. He smiled excitedly, touching his chin. “I take it, then, that I’m now allowed to be excited that we have women in the game!” He laughed a bit, but A-ya could tell that Roy was playing a role – very well, in fact. The occult-lover couldn’t help but wonder about his true face.

Yukiteru was lost as Minene went straight into the living room and collapsed on the couch, leaning back and resting her elbows on the back of it with a sigh. Rika looked around at everyone curiously before sitting herself sweetly in a chair nearby the couch. Everyone gathered there in the living room, even L despite the fact he was quite comfortable crouching in his chair.

“Um… Minene—?” Yukiteru began, but she cut him off.

“Look, I figure we can work together on this one,” she said flatly. “We’ve worked together before; you can trust me. For now.”

The others of Yukiteru’s group had left him at the forefront of conversation – this was his show, not theirs. “Wha—I’ve never worked with you!” he cried.

“Huh?” She sat up. “Sure we have! It was after that pink-haired bitch kidnapped you and fucked you up!” She tilted her head, cocking an eyebrow. “I trained you. And your dad.”

“My dad?” Yukiteru repeated, even more perplexed. His dad was someone he hadn’t seen in ages, and their meetings were always few and far between ever since his parents divorced. It worried him that he got involved with him and Minene… he hoped he didn’t get too enmeshed in the Future Diary game. “I…” He straightened. “The last I remember, you blew up my school!” Yukiteru shot back, indignant. “You killed tons of kids and nearly killed me! Why should I believe that you and I worked together at any point in time?”

Minene blinked at him, scrutinizing his unbending will. Then she laughed. “Both of us were pinned by the same guy, and that’s how it started. It wasn’t an official alliance until you figured out how fucked up Second is. You started out pretty lame in our game, but you learn fast…” She leaned forward, a satisfied glint in her eye. “I mean, look at ya here, First. You seem to have a pretty good handle on yourself, don’tchya? Even seem like a leader, and without Second backing you, even! You’ve got the will to make it. So do I. I’m just impressed with these guys…”

“The game masters?” Yukiteru asked, confused, while A-ya sat down on the ottoman beside him.

The terrorist nodded. “I bet you and I are from different times. Think on it – why else wouldn’t you remember? It’s either that or they implanted false memories into my head, or maybe they hit you on the head too hard. Brain wiped ya. Just – I mean, these guys have control over the future, and therefore the present, maybe even the past… It’s the only thing that makes sense. Otherwise, wouldn’t all this bullshit have been foretold in our Future Diaries?”

Yukiteru paled at the realization. What was it they were facing, exactly…?

“Look, I’m not gonna hurt ya unless you go after me or Rika. I’ve been taking care of her since day one, so you’d better be nice.” At her mention, Rika began kicking her feet back and forth, happily sitting on her chair. “Other than that, we’re forming an alliance if you let us. Fighting…well, that’s giving the bosses exactly what they want.”

“I heard you blew up the Control Center,” Yukiteru said drily.

“Yeah, and then some bald asshole showed up.” She shook her head. “Fucking—anyway, my point is that the goal is to get to that building and find the bosses inside. I know which building it is. I’m sure you could figure it out, but I can make things a little quicker.”

“The only way to get in,” said A-ya, “is to have complete cooperation from all other players.”

“Yeah, unlike that fucking half-ghoul or whatever the hell—” She clicked her tongue.

“So we can’t bomb it,” Yukiteru stated, and she frowned deeply.

“Wait, we’ve actually gotta have everyone in on it? Are you fucking kidding? We’d better not have too many dumbasses in this game, or beefed-up players that just wanna kill everybody.” She shook her head irately. “I know all the girls are in this together right now, so that won’t be a problem, I don’t think. One kid makes me uncomfortable, but that’s just one. I had an alliance with her group, but my god, there’s this chick Maka that’s real handy. She can sense when people are crazy, so she got rid of the bad ones pretty quick.” She shifted to a more serious face. “First…”

“Call me Yukiteru or something,” Yukiteru answered. “It’s…weird here, like it’s the wrong game. I’ll call you Minene instead of Ninth, if that’s alright.”

She shrugged. “Whatever. Yukki, hear me out. I don’t know how you feel about Second – Gasai, Yuno, whatever… But she was fucking insane. Maka killed her, and I was real glad. I’m not apologizing for it, but I thought I should let you know.”

Yukiteru nodded. “Yeah… I know. Thanks…”

A-ya shifted. “Did you—I mean… Did you ever see a girl with brown hair to about… here? Red ribbon… School uniform?”

“Huh? Yeah, she was in the crazy one’s group, actually. She was fine when Maka killed Second, and we didn’t fight much after that. Her group looked like it was doing pretty well, but she wasn’t in the final showdown, so I don’t know exactly what happened to her… Come to think of it, I didn’t see any of that group there – I wonder what happened…” She looked at A-ya. “One of your friends?”

“I…” He paused. “Yeah.”

Yukiteru glanced at him, thinking back on the first night of the game. “I don’t know that they’d be considered ‘friends’… We get along, I guess.” That was what A-ya had said about them, in the beginning. Maybe the loss had changed his mind…? Yukiteru was struck with an idea: which was worse? A-ya’s predicament, where all the friends he had were lost, or Yukiteru’s, where he had no friends to return to in the first place? Shaking his head, he decided against thinking too hard on it.

“Well, if we’re gonna make alliances,” said Minene, “there’s one girl I know we need to find. She’s strong, and she knows more than the rest of us. Not sure how she figured it out, but she knows a lot.”

A-ya and Yukiteru glanced at one another, wondering if perhaps this person had been the one to find Aureus. Who had the golden-haired items master mentioned?

“Her name is Celty,” Minene continued. “She’s all in black – got a biker’s helmet. She’s real badass, but she didn’t seem to want to hurt anyone. She split off from her original group because of how fucked up everyone was. When it came down to it, though, she fought really well when she needed to. She’s the one we need to find.”

“Alright,” Yukiteru nodded.

“If that’s the case,” said Roy, “we’ll need to find her, first.”

“I think that we should take things slowly,” said L. “We have the entire game area to search, and five other groups to factor in besides our own. As he did with us, I believe that A-ya should take his time explaining to you what he knows about the other male groups. Any new male members are people I may be able to analyze – if it’s Light-kun, I know him and will recognize him.”

“We’ll search the game area methodically,” Roy agreed. “If we come across another group, we will stop and analyze the situation.”

“Then we can see whether they’re friends or not,” smiled Rika, still kicking her feet. She smiled a closed-eye, childish smile.

“Yeah, we’ll figure that out when we get there,” Minene agreed gruffly.

“…Right,” Roy responded eventually. “I’ll come up with a formation for us all – I’ll need to know your strengths to set it up. That’s something to be discussed before we start out.”

It was here that Yukiteru found himself laughing. All but A-ya looked at him, a bit confused.

“Nii?” Rika tilted her head.

“What’s so funny?” Roy frowned.

“I can’t say I’m not curious,” L added, staring with blank intrigue at him, index finger to his lower lip.

Yukiteru shook his head, suppressing his weary amusement. “I just—you have no idea how relieved I am to have you guys as our teammates…”

“Bad group?” asked Minene, eyebrows shooting up.

“Well—kinda…”

“I’m the last one from my group – I get it,” Minene shrugged.

“I wonder where Maka and Nora are,” commented Rika softly.

“Well,” Minene said, stretching, “we’ll find out soon, won’t we?”

“First things first,” said Roy, “after you two are settled, I’d like to discuss what we need to.”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Minene concurred. “Sounds good to me.”

 

Chapter 31: Sin

Chapter Text

 

“Didn’t you still want to check out the items module?” inquired Akise of Izaya. They walked along the field between the two southernmost households. They were at least two-thirds of the way there by now, and Twelve and Suzuya walked along behind them, having a cheery and childish-sounding conversation about what ghouls were. (“Yeah, some ghouls have weapons that come out of their ass!” “Really! Sounds painful. I’d hate to be a ghoul, whaddaya say, Suzuya?” “Uhh, I like being Suzuya.”) Izaya glanced at Akise, who had his hands in his pockets, casually walking alongside the informant without looking at him.

“I did plan on it initially, yes,” Izaya conceded. “But Suzuya brought up a good point – just because Yato is a god, it doesn’t mean he won’t make bad choices, knowing him… No, even he can sin, in my opinion.” He held up his index finger, adorned with a silver ring. “Yato, you see, is rather fragile right now in terms of what kind of decisions he might make. All things considered, I think it would be best for me to head to the items pillar with him – if I throw too much on him at once that I’ve done on my own, without his consent… well, frankly, it might piss him off,” he grinned. The smile dropped quickly. “And I don’t want that. As wonderful as it is that Suzuya and Twelve are working with me now, Yato is very strong, and I’d like for him to continue working with me. We need as many people in on this plan as possible because our goal is to make as many alliances as we can.”

Akise nodded. “Allying as many as feasible…sounds perfect. That’s the kind of plan I’d put into action, myself. I’d like to go along with it too…”

“Akise-kun,” Izaya smiled mirthlessly, “I don’t know what group you’re in…but I’d love for you to stick around. As said, I need as many people involved as possible…” The informant shrugged. “And anyway, you did give me the updated info sheets, so I shouldn’t complain, hm? It’s much appreciated. Now I can take a look at the new players and at least get an idea of what kind of people they might be~”

“I’m happy to have helped,” Akise responded in kind, closing his rose-red eyes.

It was then that the announcement about the females was made, and Izaya clicked his tongue in vague annoyance, pausing in his walking. Another game? he thought, glaring upwards with cold eyes. Sighing lightly, he perked up again, spinning around to face the others. “The girls are coming in, hm?~ Wonder who we’ll find!” He laughed a bit, patting Suzuya on the head. The white-haired, androgynous one frowned. “Does this mean you’re a boy after all, Suzu-chan?”

“I am a boy,” Suzuya confirmed, gazing flatly at him.

“I couldn’t tell at first,” Izaya shrugged.

As Suzuya’s eyes narrowed, Akise tilted his head questioningly. “Are you supposed to just say that?” inquired Twelve, quirking an eyebrow.

“I was only being honest,” Izaya shrugged.

Suzuya blinked. “…Yeah.” He brightened up. “Yeah, I guess you’re right!” And he laughed like a child, obviously pleased with his truthfulness. Izaya raised an eyebrow of his own, but otherwise didn’t comment.

Though the informant wasn’t looking, he wasn’t surprised when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see Celty Sturluson in her black jumpsuit and yellow biker helmet, holding up her cellphone, having typed the words, [You’ve been caught up in this, too?]

“Ah, Celty!” Izaya grinned, spreading his arms welcomingly. Akise, Twelve, and Suzuya all stared with intrigue at this new person, apparently mute.

[Izaya. Are you okay?]

Izaya stared at the words with comical surprise before smirking and shrugging her question off. “How strange, asking that kind of thing. You know that I’d do fine, even in a game like this.”

“Mute?” remarked Twelve, putting a hand to his chin. “Aw… Too bad.”

“Why can’t she talk?” Suzuya frowned, tilting his head.

“No need to pry,” said Akise, holding up a hand. “We’ll find out if she tells us.”

Celty bowed her helmet at Akise in thanks before typing out her response. [Who are these three? Your group?]

“Ah, of course! Introductions are surely due,” Izaya beamed, bowing. “Everyone, this is Celty Sturluson! She’s from my realm – she’s also known as the Dark Rider. Pretty cool, huh? Rumor has it she doesn’t have a head,” he added, knocking on her helmet. She took a swipe at him with her fist, but having anticipated this, he dodged easily with a laugh.

“Nice to meetchya, Celty!” chirped Twelve, saluting her. “I’m Twelve!”

“Suzuya,” said Suzuya distractedly. “Ahh… Juuzou Suzuya.”

“And I’m Aru Akise,” Akise smiled. “Pleasure to meet you.”

She nodded her helmet to each of them in turn. She started typing something out, paused, and deleted it all.

“Hmm? What’s wrong, Celty?” asked Izaya. “Keeping something from me?”

She shook her helmet in denial. She tapped at where her chin would be, thinking, and then tapped at her screen before holding the phone up again. [Izaya, who else is in this game?] She paused, typed some more, then held it up again. [Anyone I know?] Pause. [Anyone we know?]

None of the other three knew the answer, so they all looked to the informant. His mouth twitched as though his mask was beginning to falter. His red-brown eyes were shadowed and flat. “Ahh, Celty-san,” he began, smile spreading thinly over his pale lips. “Yeah, Shizu-chan’s a player.”

She leaned in, surprised. Tap-tap-tap. [Shizuo’s in this game?] Tap-tap-tap. [Where is he?] Tap-tap-tap. [Is he alright?]

“There’s one other person in my group named Yato,” he said, his voice oddly hollow even though his tone followed the same patterns. His smile was gone, mouth showing something reminiscent of annoyance. “We need to head to him.”

More frantic typing. [Izaya, answer me!]

Izaya put his hands in his pockets, the top half of his face shrouded. He did not respond.

Her tapping was slower. [Is he…] She didn’t seem to want to finish it.

Izaya began to walk forward as had been his initial mission. The others, not completely sure of all that had gone on there, followed behind him. “No time to waste,” Izaya said, smile plastered on. “Come on along, Celty-san.”

She stood, watching him go. Izaya… Celty wasn’t sure what to think about the situation. If Shizuo was truly gone, would Izaya be upset? Something was definitely wrong here, but she couldn’t tell anything for certain. Her perspective began to shift – it hadn’t occurred to her; did Izaya care after all, even if it was only a miniscule amount?

…No, he definitely didn’t, at least not as she remembered. So then, what had she missed?

Unable to come to a conclusion yet, she began following behind the others.


When Yato finally awoke, he opened his glowing blue eyes to darkness. He didn’t want to move. He felt no need to. There was no rhyme nor reason. No motivation. His chest ached; it throbbed. He didn’t understand.

“Hiyori…”

That was right, Hiyori…he needed to make it back for her. He sensed that Izaya wasn’t in the house – where could he have gone? Right now he found that he didn’t care.

The god rolled over onto his back, slow and steady, then propped himself up by his elbows. Slow, so slow, he got up from his bed-mat, bringing the blanket with him. He longed for something warm. It was so cold. Where was the heat?

Empty, he stepped to the door and slid it open to muted shadow. He saw sunlight shining through the windows in the other room, casting rectangular shapes of gold onto the floor. It was well into daytime by now, he was sure.

Here, Yato shed his blanket, leaving it in the doorway of the bedroom before shuffling into the living area where he had talked with Izaya the night before. That was the night before, right? The memory didn’t feel real despite the clarity of the moonlight.

Looking around for something, anything, the crimson sword that had belonged to Yoh Takami caught his eye, lying neatly by the wall as though Izaya had set it out for him. Did he expect him to use it? The sword that had cut down Yukine?

I can hear him now – he thought drily – ‘what better way to take vengeance?’  He shook his head slightly, then stared at the sword for some time before lifting it carefully by the hilt. He moved it around, testing its weight. It felt alright, in retrospect, though it definitely wasn’t the same as using a Shinki, who always matched the needs of the user so long as they worked together well.

He gave it a test swing, and he could hear the air whooshing as he sliced through it. It had a good swing; that was fair. Yato then examined the blade – it was satisfyingly sharp, and he could sense a power about it. Extending his arm, he checked out his range.

If I’m not going to let myself be worthless in this game, he thought, gripping the hilt with both his hands, then I’m going to have to fight when I need to.

Releasing a shout, he tested the swing again, creating a gust of wind that shook the house. That’s right, without Yukine, why should I hold back? Without…

…I want Yukine back.

Releasing a raw cry of despair, he swung the sword with all his might, destroying the wall in front of him.

Yukine got killed. I still need to find Hiyori.

As the hopeless despair transformed into fury, he took another strike, shattering the foundation beneath him. From here he began to rampage, as though in an attempt to reach a catharsis for all of the negative feelings and all of the cold determination rising within him and spilling over into his aimless attacks. He kept at this until he was gasping for breath, tears streaming down his face like hot rivers.

Dropping to his knees, he wiped at his face with the sleeve of his jersey. In the ringing silence, the Voice made its announcement. Yato froze, holding his breath only to release it in a hoarse whisper: “Hiyori…” Was she involved? Was she okay?

With a new sense of urgency, he got to his feet, making sure the last of the moisture on his face was gone. Gripping the crimson sword tightly in his hand, he walked quickly to the door and swung it open with force, much of the house behind him destroyed. Standing on the blue circle that the original Group 6 had appeared upon were two girls, one with blond hair in limp pigtails and the other in traditional wear that looked all too familiar. Yato stiffened.

The two girls turned to Yato, one with prospective green eyes, the other with burgundy eyes that narrowed pleasurably in recognition when she saw Yato. “Ah…” The latter brought the sleeve of her kimono to her mouth, smiling. “…It’s you.”

“Who?” inquired the other. The blond in the long black jacket turned to Yato. “I am Maka Albarn, pleasure to meet you.” She bowed respectably. “We’re from…another game – it looks like the same game area, too…,” she remarked.

“Nora.” Yato spoke lowly. The knuckles that gripped the crimson sword were white.

“I know him,” said Nora to Maka, and she shifted slightly.

“Yeah? I don’t sense anything mad about him,” Maka commented, “but his wavelength is hard to read…”

“My name is Yato,” Yato said. His voice was harsh and blunt. He wanted nothing to do with Nora. This doll-like girl… like a representation of his cruelly-led past, painted with the red color of calamity. “I want nothing to do with either of you if she’s involved.” He jerked his arm to indicate Nora, who tilted her head, narrowing her eyes with further amusement.

“I understand you two might have some kind of grudge,” said Maka reasonably, holding up white-gloved hands, “but right now we all need to work together… whether we like it or not. I’m not her ideal Meister, and she isn’t my ideal weapon. It’s the only choice we had.”

Yato only continued glaring coldly at Nora, gaze unmoving.

“Where is the blond one?” inquired the jaded spirit, lowering her sleeve from her mouth. “The one with the pretty eyes… Could it be that he isn’t here? Did he leave? Or did you finally abandon him?”

I would never abandon Yukine,” Yato hissed, teeth bared. “Back off, Nora, or I’ll kill you.”

“Oh, I see… is it that he perished?” Nora smiled.

Yato stood strong without response, gripping the hilt of the crimson sword with his other hand. Maka watched the two of them, unsure how to go about quelling the conflict. For now, she could only assess the situation.

The Shinki tilted her head. “Is it that you killed him, too?”

I DIDN’T!” Yato bellowed, and ran at her.

Haken!” Maka barked, and Nora became a scythe in a flash. Maka and Yato clashed blades – Maka was blown backwards by the impact, sliding in the dirt. “We don’t have to fight! Nora, stop egging him on! I release you – let’s talk this out like normal people!”

Nora returned to human form, and Yato remained in his fighting stance. Maka, too, remained on her guard. It was only Nora who seemed relaxed, taking a casual step towards Yato. The god took a step back in answer, and she smiled her doll-like smile. “I want nothing to do with her,” he growled.

Maka was about to respond when Nora spoke up again: “That’s not a weapon fit for a god.” Maka’s eyes widened in realization – he was a god as she’d described, the kind of being Nora was made for, wasn’t he? This situation suddenly had the potential to become very nasty. “You need a Shinki, don’t you?” Nora was gone, then, and just as quickly as she’d disappeared she was in front of Yato, caressing his cheeks with her thumbs, gazing into his eyes with deceivingly warm burgundy orbs. “Use me,” she whispered, and Yato held eye contact with her for a long moment. At last, he spoke.

No.” And he knocked her away from him, sending her flying backwards and onto the ground. She stood with a dark form of annoyance as she wiped at her cheek.

“Nora, are you okay?” Maka asked, keeping an eye on both of them.

She ignored Maka. “There’s no use fighting me. That other Shinki’s gone, isn’t he?” She spread her arms invitingly, though she looked a bit miffed. “Use me, Yato. Call me by the name you used to speak so long ago.”

I won’t,” he spat.

“Your human friend is dead,” Nora added, and Yato went rigid. “Yes, that’s right… The half-phantom? She died in our game…”

Hiyori…? Horrified, Yato looked to Maka for confirmation – where he might not be able to trust Nora, he might be able to trust her.

“Ah… The brown-haired girl in the pink scarf, right?” Maka inquired, and she watched Yato’s eyes widen in terror. “Um…” These were becoming increasingly horrible circumstances. “I’m very sorry, Yato-san… She…”

Yato’s grip loosened on his sword as he slumped, head bowed. “…Who did it,” he croaked out.

Nora smiled. “It was a dark, headless woman by the name of Celty,” she said. Maka furrowed her brow, confused, but Nora continued on. “There’s nothing to hold you back, now… If you find the gods of this game, you can force them to do as you wish, right? No, in fact…in this game, why shouldn’t you show your true nature? You know you really wouldn’t like it any other way, would you? This is what you’re made for. You know I’m the best option you have. You know what it is you truly want to do…” Her red eyes narrowed, content. “Use me, and kill Maka. It’s the best way to start… She has a name for me; it wouldn’t do for me to serve you both.”

“Now, wait a minute here—” Maka began, but the Shinki continued.

“For you to show your true nature, well, the only one I’d ever want to work for is you, Yato.” Her expression softened. “Maybe you loved that boy, but you abandoned me… All I wish for is a loving family… I want what we used to have.” She took another step forward. “But I’m offering another chance. You’re still the only god I wish to serve… Use me, Yato.”

Maka looked between the two of them. This is dangerous… If this god were to take Nora’s offer, would she be able to escape? She analyzed all her options, but on an open flatland like this, there wasn’t much she could do… And if he refused, would he attack again? She had to be prepared for that regardless, because despite how uneasy Nora’s soul made her feel, she was her only option in regards to weaponry. At this point, Maka wasn’t sure of any optimal outcome.

For Yato, though his eyes were fixed on the ground, he did not see the brown earth beneath his boots. Before him he saw visions of the determined amber eyes of Yukine, of the warm magenta eyes of Hiyori. He heard her cheering for him, scolding him. He heard him grudgingly rooting for him, complaining to him.  He saw the angry hazel eyes of Shizuo, softening when they looked upon Yukine. He thought of Izaya reminding him he had Hiyori to go back to. He heard the informant say, “I’m sure… that he thought of you like a father.” What kind of father was he, to let Yukine die? What kind of god – no, what kind of friend was he to let Hiyori perish, too? What kind of person?

The god’s eyes flashed, and reacting quickly, Maka yelped “Haken!” in preparation.

Nora came to her gloved hand as a scythe just as Yato dropped the crimson sword to the dirt. When he spoke, his voice was low, barely audible but somehow holding the weight of a thousand kings. “Hiki,” he said.

Maka didn’t understand at first, but then Nora was wrenched from her hand as the Shinki transformed into a thin sword with a wooden hilt that was swiftly caught by the God of Calamity facing her. She watched him raise his head with glowing blue eyes, pupils only slits. She gave a nervous and aggravated tch, widening her stance in preparation for defense, heart pounding in her ears.

For a time, Yato stood there, and Maka grew increasingly tense, unsure of when he’d strike. She watched his feet. As he shifted his footing, she thought, He will fake a left, then go right. Left! She dodged to the left as Yato did as she predicted, but he was too fast, now behind her – when did he—?

She spun around and turned her side to him, narrowing the surface area he had to strike. He jabbed between her ribs, puncturing both of her lungs and rupturing her spleen. He yanked the sword back out of her, and she gasped, sucking the seeping blood into her lungs. Here she choked, regaining her footing as best she could and maneuvering backwards on pure instinct. I’m not going to make it, she thought, and was beheaded.

Yato gripped Nora’s hilt tightly, releasing a long breath. Blood had stained his white scarf – his skin was spattered with the red. He heard footsteps nearby.

“Yato!”

It was Izaya’s voice, calling in his overly-friendly, mocking way…though there was a trace of surprise. Yato looked at Izaya to find three faces he didn’t recognize. His sharp gaze settled on the helmet of Celty Sturluson. “That’s her, the one that killed the half-phantom,” said Nora through their bond, and he brandished the sword, staring in cold fury.

“What’s happened, Yato-kun?” Izaya asked. His tone was tentative, more careful than was usual. “I take it someone needed to be disposed of?” He glanced at Maka’s body as if to prove his point. He was obviously choosing his words carefully. The odd one with the red slippers and colorful suspenders, Suzuya, was crouching by the Meister’s head, staring curiously at it. Twelve had his hands up in the air as if he were being called out by the police, and Akise had his own hands out of his pockets in a show of peace.

The biker woman, Celty, held up her phone. [There was no need to fight. Lay down your weapon; I don’t want to fight either.]

You,” said Yato, tone ice, “killed Hiyori.

Celty, not understanding, began to type again while Izaya stepped in front of her, waving his arms. “No, no, this is Celty – she’s actually a decent person, you see, unlike myself – I think you might like her!”

Yato began to growl lowly. Izaya was on her side? “Of course he is – he seems like a cruel liar, and you know it,” said Nora. All of his emotions filling and spilling from within, the god angrily struck the ground with a scream, causing the ground around him to fissure and crumble. The air around him appeared to crackle as blue lightning, and his eyes sparked as blue fire might. The wind stirred, circling him as a whirlwind, upturning small stones and clumps of dirt.

Akise backed up, recognizing the dangerous situation. His hand was over Suzuya’s chest, telling him to stay back with him. “Celty-san, I’d suggest you back up as well,” Akise warned, and she clutched her phone to her chest, lost.

Twelve had sat down, staring in fixated, if terrified, awe. “I just witnessed… the roar of god,” he said softly.

It was the informant who stepped forward. “Yato-kun, hear me out!” Izaya called out over the noise. “You don’t want to make any choices you’ll regret, do you? Think on it – don’t make the wrong choice, here… I fear you, the god, may even sin!”

Yato turned to his teammate, dark purple hair billowing around. The wind died, and the god glared at Izaya with his piercing eyes, shining blue. “Izaya Orihara, you don’t seem to understand,” he said. “Gods cannot sin. Sin is something for the humans, judged by the gods. Gods themselves can be rather selfish beings. Humans can sin; humans can do things that are right or wrong… Gods, on the other hand, can do whatever they want.” His mouth twisted bitterly. “Whatever a god does, it is right, just, holy. So if I were kill all of you, right now… then it would be a god’s judgment. I can do no wrong, Izaya…do you understand? Yukine, a human, my ‘moral guidepost,’ is dead. Hiyori, who was the only one to remember me, is dead. I am the God of War, the God of Depravity, the God of Calamity.” His eyes narrowed. “And according to me, you have sinned.

Izaya shoved Akise and Celty backwards, sprinting for the crimson sword. Celty, too shocked at Izaya’s response, remained frozen. Izaya was someone who never did the actual fighting – he had someone else do the work. He never allowed his own hands to be dirtied.

Izaya spun around and blocked Yato’s strike with the red sword just as he came down on him with the strength of the heavens. The informant was blown backwards, shoes skidding perhaps thirty feet backwards before he felt his footing slip – Izaya jumped up and flipped backwards, regaining his footing after propelling himself back into proper fighting stance with his palm. By now Suzuya, ignoring Akise’s blocking hand, jumped towards the fight, brandishing his scythe and laughing childishly as he charged. “Izaya-san’s not so bad, huh~”

Here, Celty dropped her phone into her sleeve and formed her scythe made of darkness, ready to join them in their battle. As she joined the fight, however, Yato smirked at her and, in a flash of blue light, disappeared. The scythe that Celty had begun to swing had to be halted before the force took off Izaya’s head. The informant stared at the scythe warily.

“Teleportation,” Izaya explained shortly, smiling as he wiped at his brow. “He’ll be… tired; we’re safe for now.” Shrugging off the loss of the only other original member of his group, he looked at the silver-haired detective-to-be. “Akise-kun… what did you say about being the fourth member of this group?”

Akise, taken aback, blinked at him and smiled lopsidedly, helping the awestruck Twelve to his feet.

“That,” said the terrorist, “was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” They all turned to him. “What?” He shrugged. “You know… in the worst kind of way.”

 

Chapter Text

 

As soon as Groups 1 and 2 (plus their new-found females and minus the long-gone Roppi) had reached the hospital, everyone had rushed to take care of the injured, specifically Touka, who seemed most at-risk of death. Kaneki tore through the drawers looking for the equipment he needed while the others tried to get the wounded settled down in the Emergency Room on the first floor. Akira demanded that Touka be the first to receive medical attention. “But—she’s a—” Seidou began, but Akira only continued, saying that her kakuhou was damaged and they all needed to stop the blood flow as soon as possible.

Seidou looked on the scene with dim perplexity – why was Akira taking such good care of a ghoul? Not to mention…even though she was still annoyingly blunt and harsh, she was expressing a lot of… Well, she seemed like she cared. And wasn’t that the reason he’d always pointed to for disliking her? Not caring? She was acting so different than what he knew… And he could tell that she was older than him simply by the fact that she’d known Kaneki by the name that Shirazu mentioned… Yeah, and the fact that she knew Shirazu at all, plus that new girl in the mix, Saiko.

Knowing this, a part of him really wanted to know why she was so shocked when she saw him – had he died in battle after all, as they’d feared and speculated? He hoped not… But at the same time, he didn’t want to know, and he didn’t want to care. No, even now, he still couldn’t look her straight in the face, could he? God damn it.

Saiko sat on the side of her hospital bed without much help, watching worriedly as Akira made orders while sitting up, legs stretched out on the bed. Shirazu hurriedly obeyed her every command, running to and fro gathering pillows to prop up Touka wherever or finding casts that simply were nowhere to be found. Shintaro sat in a chair, head bowed, listening to the noise. Light and Kiritsugu tried to assess the damage, making an attempt at asking Akira and Saiko where they were hurt. Akira was very formal: “I have a diagonal laceration over my chest and a light scrape on my forehead, and I’ve sustained a heavy hit to my abdominal area. My left ankle is sprained, but I am otherwise only ailed by bruises. Take care of me last.”

Saiko was a little more casual: “I dunno, my head’s cut, I think, and someone tried to strangle me… so my neck hurts. Oh, and my knees are scraped…” She paused, then, and began to tremble. “Please, please save Touka-chan…,” she whimpered, eyes filling with tears.

“We’ll do our best,” Kiritsugu responded, while Light swallowed and nodded.

Touka had been laid down first, her breathing uneven and shallow. The sound reminded Seidou of when Delic had been brought in, on the brink of death. What had he done, at that time? He was the one giving orders, right? Watching Akira give commands now… Would she be able to save someone better than he could? A horrid feeling blossomed in his chest at the thought.

Kaneki burst into the room with a pile of linen. He paused, and looked at Seidou with eyes that showed his desperation. Seidou opened his mouth, closed it, and snapped out of his own head. “No bandages?” he asked Kaneki seriously.

“This hospital has nothing in it,” he answered tightly.

Clicking his tongue, Seidou nodded in comprehension. “Alright, Shirazu, get over here! We’re flipping her over!” he called, walking quickly over to Touka. “We need to apply pressure to the kakuhou and stop the bleeding as soon as possible.” Shirazu nodded quickly and ran over, putting his hands on the ghoul’s other side. “Ready? One, two, three!” They brought her up and flipped her. “Gentle, gentle,” he said, and they laid her back down. Seidou searched her back for which area the kakuhou was – what kind of ghoul was she? The blood had soaked through the entire back of her shirt, so he couldn’t tell. Clicking his tongue, he ripped open her collared shirt from the back and examined.

“She’s an ukaku,” said Akira, but he’d already found the injury: at the base of her neck, between the shoulder blades. Here he pressed his hands down to staunch the bleeding.

Seidou looked to the half-ghoul. “Kaneki, the linen!” The white-haired one nodded curtly in answer as Shirazu backed up to get out of the way.

“Sterilize,” Kaneki said distractedly, quickly. He grabbed a soft towel and wet it at a sink before Seidou let him in to wipe at the wound to at least clear it slightly. Seidou held Touka still, but other than tensing up and cringing a bit under his hands, she was not struggling too terribly much. Kaneki began ripping up the cloth into strips. “Shirazu, tie them together.” The orange-headed officer nodded quickly and began doing so. Together, Seidou and Kaneki then pressed the makeshift bandages to the deep injury, Seidou keeping it in place while Kaneki stretched it tight.

“Shirazu, lift her with me,” Seidou said shortly, waving him in. The partial-ghoul helped him out in elevating her body just enough to begin wrapping it tightly around her chest, Kaneki discarding her soiled shirt without hesitation.

“Can you breathe?” Kaneki asked her, and she gave a weak nod. Seidou tied off the cloth, and the three of them gently laid her on her side.

“We’ll use pillows to allow her to be propped up… We’ll leave a space for her injury so she’s not laying on it,” said Seidou as Kaneki brushed her moistened hair from her face. Shirazu nodded as if it were his cue, grabbing pillows from the unoccupied beds.

“You’re going to be okay, Touka-chan,” Kaneki said, tone lulling. “It’s alright now, we’ll take care of you… Where else are you hurt?” He began checking each of her limbs; Kiritsugu came over with metal rods that he’d broken off to be makeshift splints.

“Left arm—left leg—ankle—hurts,” she answered. “Doesn’t matter—better than—my kakuhou…”

“I’ll just stabilize those too to be thorough,” Kaneki answered gently, and finished examining her limbs to find that her left fibula was snapped. Luckily it hadn’t punctured through the skin. Adding onto this, it seemed her right ankle was sprained. Kiritsugu handed him two of the casts before heading over to Akira to help Light (and now Shirazu) take care of her. He set and cast both broken bones with the linen and the rods while Seidou wrapped up the sprained ankle tightly and elevated it. It was Kaneki who helped Shirazu place the pillows to prop her up comfortably. “Better?” he whispered.

“A—” She gave a pained smile with tranquil eyes. “A bit. As if—this is the worst I’ve gotten.”

He smiled a Mona Lisa smile. “Rest for now.”

“It’ll be the fastest way to heal,” Seidou agreed, nodding as he headed over to Saiko.

“It’s alright for you to sleep,” Kaneki added. “It’s better for you. He’s right.”

Touka gazed at him, then grimaced and coughed. Blood dribbled from the corner of her mouth, which she wiped at with her right hand.

“Touka-chan,” Kaneki said seriously, “when was the last time you ate?”

“She hasn’t,” said Akira, voice flat. “Understandably…”

“Okay, Kane-kun, but what can she possibly eat right now?” asked Shirazu, and Kaneki touched his shoulder.

“If she does not eat, she will die. She can take as much of me as she needs.”

Pained, Touka looked to Akira.

“No, no way…,” protested Seidou. “You shouldn’t have to—”

“It’s my choice,” Kaneki cut him off, voice firm.

Akira looked at Touka, averted her eyes, and gave a short nod.

“It’s best that none of you look, if you don’t want to see,” said Kaneki lowly.

Touka got her sustenance – it was enough for now, especially considering that half-ghouls provide more nutrients than a typical human. Because of this, she didn’t have to take more than a nice hunk out of his shoulder.

From there the operations had gone far more smoothly. Other than another sprained ankle that needed to be wrapped, nothing else major was performed. Shirazu grinned after all of it was over. “Thank god… That was crazy. We did it! …No help from the hikkiNEET,” he added with a frown.

“Well so-rry, Shiragin,” huffed Saiko, pouting and crossing her arms.

“Not you!” he cried, then paused. “…Well, not this time, anyway,” he conceded.

Ah, so that’s the one he’d mentioned the other day…, thought the hikkiNEET in question, grey eyes lost in thought. “I’d only get in the way,” Shintaro mumbled from his chair. His pale fists clutched at his beige pant legs, grip tightening. “All of them…” He looked up at the others. “…All of them will be alright, then?”

Seidou nodded affirmatively. “Saiko and Mado…” He faltered. “Saiko and Akira will be fine. As of right now, Touka’s the only one not out of the woods yet. If she survives the damage to her kakuhou…an organ exclusive to ghouls, that is – if she can survive that, then she should make it.”

Shintaro nodded quietly. “That’s good…”

“Now it is time for them to rest,” said Kiritsugu, closing his eyes and getting to his feet. Kaneki was sitting beside the almost-sleeping Touka, head bowed.

“To be honest, there’s not much else we can do…,” Seidou said. “If we had that medical bag, maybe we’d be able to help more, but…” He shook his head irately.

“Oh,” said Shintaro in answer, wondering whether Roppi was okay. His eyes were clouded as he watched them all. Akira was giving more proper introductions of herself and the other two to everyone. He noticed Seidou stealing glances at her while she wasn’t looking, and once Seidou jumped in to introduce Shintaro, the red-jerseyed teen watched Akira steal a glance at him in turn. It seemed neither of them could look at the other, never directly.

Kiritsugu and Light introduced themselves, Light going on to explain that they were newer members in this game, so they were still catching up to what was going on. Shintaro began tuning out again at this point, but then there was a voice beside him. “Shin-ta-ro.”

He jumped, scrambling to the side and nearly falling off his chair. It tipped a bit before falling back to its place with a clack. Shintaro stiffened, dumbfounded. He looked to his left to see the blue-haired girl that looked like Ene: Saiko. “Uh—” He shifted, kind of half-forcing a smile on his face. “Y-y-yes, I’m, um…”

“Have you heard of a weird gang of kids with red eyes?” Saiko inquired, tilting her head.

He stared at her blankly. Weird gang of kids…with red eyes? He thought of the group of kids he’d met just before coming to this stupid game… One of them was Konoha. He swallowed. “Um… Yeah… They forced me into being a member…,” he sighed, hanging his head.

“Huh.” Saiko sat down on the floor beside him, leaning against the wall. “I never got to meet you right yet. I’m Saiko. You’re Shintaro. Right?”

“Right…”

“Well, I heard…that you like video games,” she said, turning to him with a sly grin. “Ya think you can beat me?”

“Yeah, probably,” he sighed, not in the mood for this.

“Jeez, you’re no fun at all,” she pouted. “Ene was right.”

Shintaro swiftly turned his head to her, suddenly interested. “Ene?”

“Yeah, Ene…” Saiko paused, then looked down, twiddling her fingers. “Um, Shintan-san…” He blinked – a pun with his name and soda? Really… “How do I put this… Um… Well, I’ll say it like a story. Once, the great Saiko Yonebayashi was put into the scary whatever-they’re-called games, as if she were in some sort of video game. She was in Group 2 with three other valiant and cool-looking members: Akira, Kidokku, and Ayano.”

At first, Shintaro had gotten stuck on Kido: Kido as in… the leader of the group of kids he’d met? But then she’d mentioned Ayano, and Shintaro froze, staring at her with rapt attention.

“The great Saiko Yonebayashi was totally cool and stuff, and for a while everything was okay. On the first day they even got together with Group 6, which had Touka-chan, Ene, Kanade-chan, and the super-cool Riza. Akira and Touka-chan didn’t get along at first, but we made an alliance anyway. Ayano-chan and Ene were very close. They said Ene’s name was Takane, or at least it used to be.”

Shintaro felt his breath leave him. Takane…? He thought of what Kuroha had said about Konoha: “Without me, his heart would have stopped beating two years ago!” Two years ago… Images danced through his mind’s eye in vivid clarity of a time where Ayano dragged him along with two others: Takane, who was very irritable, and Haruka, who was actually very sweet. Haruka had a heart condition – could it have been that Konoha was Haruka, too? Was he right?

And if Ene was Takane… Had he really lost all of his friends after all?

That doesn’t change that I was the cause of Ayano’s suicide, he thought, blood running cold. And even if they could have been ‘friends,’ it’s too late for Haruka… for Konoha now. And Takane…?

“On the second day, though,” Saiko continued, curling up and hugging her knees to her chest, “things went bad.” Her tone had shifted to something far more serious. “I should just tell you everything directly, but I don’t want to. I wouldn’t want to hear it that way myself; maybe that’s why. Kidokku, she got killed because of the goddess of war – yeah, we had to fight that. Two others of ours died in the same fight. We ran and hid…” Saiko’s eyes became shadowed. “I’m not very good at telling long and interesting stories, and I can’t draw this out much more… That night, well…”

Shintaro was paralyzed, waiting for her to finish. His lips felt numb from the fear.

“Shin…” She looked at him with the saddest of faces. “Ayano, she… wanted someone to tell you that it wasn’t your fault,” she said. “She wanted someone to tell you that she was sorry… She…she told Ene to say it, but…but Ene’s gone too…” She hunched forward, hugging herself. “I’m sorry… I had to say it; you had to know, Shin… But…that’s what happens in a game like that… I guess. Right?” She looked at him as he stared, not comprehending. “So I don’t think… video games are so cool in real life.”

Shintaro’s mouth twitched. “…Yeah—I agree.”

“It’s right to tell you, isn’t it?” she asked, brow creased worriedly. “Because…”

“No—no, you’re right. I…thanks.” He looked away. “Ene, well, you’ve told me something I needed to know… Apparently you got to know her better than I did…” He laughed slightly. I’m such a jerk… Shaking it off, he continued, “And Kido… well, I’d only just met her, but she was nice… And…Ayano…” He trailed off, lost in darkness.

“…Shin?” asked Saiko, concerned.

His voice was low and dead. “I’ve…already lost her once. Why should I have expected to see her again?”

Saiko drew her lips into a thin line, then grabbed at the sleeve of his jersey. “Shin—”

He pulled away. “It’s fine. I just need to think about this for a minute. Thanks for letting me know.”

“But—”

Leave me alone.

She stared at him for a few moments before nodding and slinking back over to Akira and Shirazu. Shintaro’s jaw tightened as she left – she’d just reached out to him, hadn’t she? And he’d pushed back, just like at that time…

He saw the red of the blazing summer sunset before him on that long-detested bridge. He heard her voice: Ayano, walking beside him. Him, telling her to leave him alone. Telling her she was only a nuisance. Telling her she could just die for all he cared.

He remembered finding her, crying and angry. Her telling him it was all his fault.

He saw the empty desk beside his own. The flowers placed there. He heard the tears of his classmates. He relived her funeral.

Seeing how I acted just now, he thought, hunching forward and tightening his grip on the fabric of his pants, …I really haven’t changed at all, have I? She believes in me beyond the grave, and I still disappoint. I’ll always be a cruel and callous fool. That will never change. Because even if I can answer every question on all the exams, I still, still can’t answer the one thing that matters most.

He swallowed. He felt as though he might vomit. Something inside him was being pulled, tugged on – he felt it stretching and threatening to break. He wished to shut down, lash out; he could feel chilled apathy rising within him like the deep ocean that had drowned his father when he was seven years old – but that was a trauma for another day. All he did was worry and disappoint his surviving mother and sister – what else was there for him to do? He was no hero. He was not kind. He was not strong.

To continue like this… I’d rather just die. Ayano had been lost for the second time, along with two old friends that had become new ones. They were all dead, and he was yet again the last one standing among them. To what purpose? Why was he the one to survive?

“I think it would have been better if Sebastian had come out of nowhere and killed you, who already has that blood on your hands.”

…That’s right, Shintaro thought. His chest felt cold; his head felt dizzy. I should have died more than once. My existence only plagues others, doesn’t it? He could feel the lights growing brighter – too bright. The sound around him became static. Bothersome. Meaningless. Why haven’t I…been properly punished…? He felt the presence of the others grow oppressive and overwhelming. He needed to get out. He needed to shut out. Shut in. He never wanted to be here, anyway. Maybe he shouldn’t be at all. He suddenly became aware of the scissors in his pocket. Maybe, if I…

He curled forward, leaning his elbows on his legs and his face in his hands. Roppi was right, about everything. I should be the one dead. I was the one who pushed Ayano to her death, too…

“Ayano just paid a pretty price for trying to help someone like you,” whispered Roppi’s memory in sneering tones.

Shintaro’s expression darkened further. Just, damn it… Damn it all…! I hate it. I hate all that’s happened, though really mostly I hate myself… I should just save everyone the trouble of placing their hope in a heart that only wants to disappear. He felt his warmth dimming. At this point, I’m no help to any of them. Akira, Light, and Kiritsugu…with their intellect, they don’t need me. They’re far more useful anyway… I only get in the way in this game. They have more serious things to worry about than protecting me, now that the new members are in… They’re already bothered by the fact they need supplies—

“If we had that medical bag, maybe we’d be able to help more, but…”

Shintaro’s head jerked up. All at once, he felt his spark come back to life. The sound around him became mute; the lights returned to their normal shade. He could feel the ground beneath him. Roppi.

“Yeah, you’re right – maybe Tsuki did believe in me, but now he’s dead. And for what purpose?”

Ayano still believes in me, he thought numbly. Why?

“I bet, right now, Tsuki believes in you, too. Even though I was cruel, and you’re not the best of people, either…”

I said that to him, he thought, amazed. Despite everything, he had tried to help him, hadn’t he? For once it really had been him, Shintaro, to reach out to someone else. And what had Roppi done but the same thing that Shintaro always did? Shintaro could see the soft look in Roppi’s eyes when they were set on Tsuki, but could Roppi see his own fondness? Had even he, Shintaro, looked on Ayano with a softened gaze?

The shut-in found himself smiling. It’s no wonder Roppi was so cruel… It’s no wonder he hated me so much. It’s the same reason I was so bothered by him: if I can see me in him, I’m sure… he sees himself in me, too.

And what did this mean? Were they both irretrievable fools who couldn’t be saved? Were they both cruel villains whose existence wasn’t meant to be?

No, because if Ayano and Tsuki can be considered heroes…if they believed in us, then isn’t it just hypocritical to praise them but not believe in ourselves? Tsuki believed in Roppi…so I’ll believe in him. And if Ayano can still believe in me… then even though I still hate who I am, I’m going to try and learn to love me, because if she could…then I can, too. If not for myself at first…then for her. Because she means everything… And if I were to continue to punish myself for my wrongs, it would defeat the purpose of everything she stood for. No, I need to move on, not at her expense, but for her.

Maybe I can’t save her now… And maybe everyone else is gone, but there’s still Seidou left, and Roppi left. I still have Kaneki and Shirazu. Saiko, Light, Akira, Touka, Kiritsugu – even though I only just met them… And hell, if I’ve actually made it this far, even if it was only by luck, I should do something with the fact that I’m still breathing! I won’t be a burden to the others, anymore… Maybe I’ve failed… a lot… but… There is one thing I can do now.

He looked at Touka’s sleeping form; at Seidou’s annoyed features, distracted by Light. What I need to do is find Roppi. I’ll try to save him. And if I can do that, then surely, I can believe in myself the way she did. Even if I can’t, I will try… and no matter what, my mission is to get that medical bag and bring it back to them so that they can help Touka properly.

Abruptly, Shintaro stood, countenance serious.

“Huh?” Seidou looked over at him. “Shintaro? Something wrong?”

“I’m going to go rest elsewhere,” Shintaro answered. “Thanks, though, everyone…” He bowed. “Pardon me.” And he left. The others looked at one another.

“What was he thanking us for?” asked Shirazu.

“I dunno,” Saiko shrugged in answer.

“Shintaro sometimes mumbles things that make no sense anyway,” huffed Seidou, crossing his arms.

Shintaro, in the meantime, went around looking for the security office. When he found it, placed elsewhere on the first floor, he discovered there were no guns to be stored. “Considering the entire hospital doesn’t have any bandages, even… I’m not surprised there’s also no weapons here,” he remarked to himself, going through everything carefully. Finding a small stun gun in the confines of the office, he tested out the button to find that it was fully functional. “Not sure how much more I can do with this, but it’s better than just my scissors, I guess,” he said, quirking an eyebrow at it. He then put it in the pocket of his pants before heading to the empty reception desk and writing out a note to Seidou, letting him know of what he was doing and apologizing sincerely, assuring him he shouldn’t worry too much – in fact, doing that would defeat the purpose of him running out like this.

After the note was written, he left it in plain sight and slipped outside the hospital. When Roppi had first gone missing, he’d caught a glimpse out the fourth-story window of the red trim of his jacket trailing behind as he turned the corner – Roppi was headed south. Thus, Shintaro braced himself for whatever was to come and began his trek south to find Roppi, all the while hoping he was alright.


Muse’s hand hovered over the blue-glowing trigger marked ‘XX’. As they watched Shintaro’s psyche unfold and restore itself to something better than before, Muse lowered their hand, mouth upturning. They were impressed. “Ah… if you won’t fall apart, I’ll give you this,” they said, and pressed a red button. Muse then spun around on their swivel chair and turned to Seraph, grinning wide and leaning forward in excitement. “Seraph, look!”

Seraph raised their head with sullen eyes, frowning deeply. “What.”

“Shintaro’s moving on – would you look at that? What a beautiful development!”

“Unlike a lot of other things,” Seraph answered flatly, looking bothered.

“Eh?”

“Yukine is dead. Yato’s being stupid. Roppi’s about to go on a killing rampage, Muse!” At the last explanation, Seraph’s voice rose, breaking on the word ‘killing.’

Muse grinned. “Isn’t it fun?”

“No!” Seraph snapped, and Durden shrugged it off.

“Let’s take a sec and calm down, Seraph,” said Durden. “I think Yato’s pretty badass. It’s stirring the plot nicely, I think.”

“I see what you did there,” Muse beamed.

“I don’t care,” Seraph said, voice hard. They lowered their head, violet hair shrouding their eyes. “You’d better not let anything bad happen to Roppi, Muse.”

Muse began to laugh. “I can’t stop what—”

“Damn it; who are you?!”

Muse blinked. “I’m Muse, and you?”

Seraph stood. “I’m leaving.” They shot a glare a Muse. “And don’t you dare say it.”

Muse clamped their mouth shut, refraining from saying something like, ‘Nice to meet you, Leaving.’

“Going to talk to Greyson?” inquired Durden of Seraph, and the violet-haired one shrugged sharply, paused, then curtly nodded before leaving.

“…I am Muse, aren’t I?” Muse asked, tilting their head at Durden.

The bald one chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, you sure are,” he answered. “So what’d ya do to Shintaro?”

“Eh…” Muse spun around, folding their fingers together and gazing intently at the screen. “You’ll see soon enough anyway.”

 

Chapter 33: Not Enemies

Chapter Text

 

Roppi sat behind a large rock, leaning against its rough surface as he scribbled sketches onto a piece of paper he’d gotten in the shopping district. He was using a pencil he’d found in the same area. He’d just come across the city park, and decided it was time to make something a bit more coherent as a plan. Sure, he knew what he was doing, but he knew damn well that if he ran on hate-fuel, he was bound to be killed. No…he had to think things all the way through.

In scritchy, harsh writing, he began to write: he drew two small figures with black holes for eyes, thin appendages hanging from a rectangular torso and ending at a point. Under each of these voodoo-like figures, he specified who they were. He went on to the next, and the next after that. There were three groups he could think of that he wanted to go after…

Sebastian’s group, well… Yato may have killed the demon douchebag, but there was one thing that Roppi knew would disturb him from beyond the grave – something that would shatter all meaning of his death. If he were to upset him in any way… Well, what other way to get at a butler like that than to kill his master? Ciel Phantomhive was one of his most prominent targets.

Second, there was Kuroha. He would be a tough defeat, but Roppi knew his weakness. He just had to hit him in the head, and besides, he was already injured, unless he’d gotten healed. At this point, Roppi didn’t care. He’d die trying to kill him, if he had to. In fact, none of that group was anyone he’d really feel like sparing. Even if he got rid of one of Kuroha’s recruits, he’d be happy.

Thirdly, he wanted to kill Izaya. Period.

It was a given! Izaya Orihara was the one that he’d been looking forward to killing from the very beginning. To kill him, he’d be surely satisfied. He was the creator of Roppi… the creator of Tsuki; of Psyche. If it weren’t for Izaya, Roppi wouldn’t be suffering, now, would he?

After pocketing the pencil and the angry-looking sketches upon their completion, he hunched forward with a sigh. The ammo and the medical bag was getting heavy walking this far – he’d never been exactly strong when it came to physical strength.

Whatever, he thought, glaring at nothing. I can deal with it.

Roppi froze when he heard voices. As silently as he could, he took off the ammo and the medical bag, setting them down gently on the grass. He cautiously peered over the top of the rock and watched as Group 4 approached from ahead, heading from left to right in Roppi’s view. The bitter one’s mouth twisted in pleasure, slowly preparing the machine gun for use and taking aim using the rock as a stand. He began to take aim at the boy – the two were walking relatively slowly, so it didn’t take too long…

“I expect you’ll never pick me up like that again,” Ciel huffed, crossing his arms indignantly.

“Well, I might have to, at some point,” Shinichi remarked with a shrug, smiling slightly.

“Only if it is absolutely necessary.”

The two remaining of Group 4, without any new recruits and without any female members to add, walked together as a pair to the west, through the park. They were heading for where Shinichi thought A-ya and Yukiteru may have headed… He couldn’t sense them in that weird hatch anymore, so there was no use looking there for them. Of course, what he really wanted was to go after Kuroha straight away. Go after Yato. He could feel the ferocity rising in him just at the thought.

After the Voice’s most recent announcement, the two of them had discussed the possibility of any girls they knew coming in. Ciel talked about this naïve and ridiculous girl by the name of Elizabeth, of whom he was arranged to marry when he was older. Shinichi could tell that although Ciel didn’t much like her personality, he was still worried about her. Ciel quickly came to the assumption that she wasn’t involved, considering no one had come. “I suppose you can breathe easy over anyone you might think of, Shinichi,” Ciel had commented with a wry smile, and Shinichi grunted in agreement, eyes going someplace far off. Indeed, there was a girl in particular he was worried about… a girl who allowed him to reassure himself that he still had some human emotions that were his own – namely his affection towards her. But no one showed up, and they continued on their way. If they found Yato or Kuroha, there was a battle to be had…

“You know, it’s rather strange,” Ciel remarked thoughtfully.

“Mm?” Shinichi glanced at him. “What’s that?”

“Sebastian’s death. I mean, that’s impossible itself, and losing him makes me feel worthless and weak – as though I could never accomplish anything again… It drives me backwards, makes me feel like I’ve been torn up.”

Shinichi blinked, looking at him.

“And yet, even though this is the worst I’ve felt in a long, long time…” Ciel brought a hand to his chest. “Somehow, I feel lighter. It’s strange…”

Shinichi gazed at him in vague surprise before smiling again. “Maybe your future isn’t assured or anything… but I think it might be because you’ve earned ‘hope’ back.”

“That… sounds ridiculous.”

Shinichi couldn’t help but laugh a bit.

It was around this moment that Roppi got Ciel in his sights, taking aim. He inhaled, then exhaled, long and slow until the point he could be comfortably not-breathing. He was zeroed in on Ciel’s indignant face, his prideful countenance emanating off of him and making Roppi want to bash his head in. Prideful piece of shit. Pisses me off. Red eye narrowing and hate burning in his chest, his index finger began to tighten around the trigger as he slowly moved the gun’s aim in anticipation of the pace they were walking.

Now.

Suddenly, Ciel stopped, looking up in confusion. He heard his voice from here, saying something like, “Shinichi, what’s the matter with you?”

Roppi shifted his sights to where Shinichi was, focusing in on his head to find that he was looking straight at him with dark eyes like chasms that dropped into ebony rage. Not again. Roppi jerked backwards, scenes from his very first confrontation flashing before him. Just like before, the one staring into him was gone – the teen fell backwards, anticipating the inevitable moment of seeing Shinichi reappear right in front of him. “Demon—?” Shinichi was at his side and Roppi was in the air, held by his throat with a grip like a vice. The partial-parasite’s grip tightened around his neck, and Roppi saw the fireflies begin entering his vision. Grimacing, Roppi held fast to the machine gun, blindly trying to aim at Shinichi.

“You trying to kill him?!” Shinichi snapped, expression contorted in rage. His fist tightened, and Roppi had to drop the gun, arms tingling with the weakness. He brought his own hands to his neck, struggling fruitlessly. Roppi tried to think of exactly how he could swing his body around to wrench himself free, but his head was pounding and his vision was going dark. “I won’t let you.

Roppi opened one eye to him, looking with hazy vision to Shinichi Izumi. Shinichi froze – before him he saw the person he’d caught falling from the window of a skyscraper, after Sebastian had shattered the windows and tossed him out like a ragdoll. In Shinichi, Roppi could blearily make out the boy that had saved his life.

Struck with this realization, Shinichi released Roppi, and the dark one fell to the ground in a heap, gasping for air and clutching at his throat. Shinichi took a step back, hand going to where his heart should be. “What am I…?” He grasped at his chest, face contorted in his own form of agony. “What have I been doing? What am I thinking? All this time…”

“Shinichi, what is it?” asked Ciel, annoyed as always as he poked his head over the rock.

“Fuck you,” Roppi rasped.

“You…why did you…?” Shinichi looked to Roppi with the most sorrowful eyes, and he staggered to his feet, red eyes burning with rage.

“Why….” He choked, then tried again, voice grating. “Why do you think?!” He fully regained his footing, straightening up with his own rage to counter that which he’d been threatened with just moments before. “You were in the demon’s group! Why didn’t you stop him?! You let him kill Tsuki!

Shinichi thought of the bespectacled boy in the beige scarf. Was that who he meant? “I…” He grasped at his chest and fell to his knees, grimacing. “What are we…? What have I…?”

“Shinichi, calm down,” Ciel ordered uncertainly.

Roppi merely stared at him as he gasped and struggled with his inner turmoil. “Yes, that’s right. You let him die. What’s the point in being angry with me for something that you contributed to? Tell me.”

Shinichi’s breathing gradually became steady again, and he looked at Roppi with calm, empty eyes. “All you’re doing…is trying to survive. I understand… It’s what we’re all doing, isn’t it? How could I have forgotten…?”

“Shinichi, what are you going on about?” Ciel asked sharply, but Shinichi only shook his head and stood.

“We’re trying to do the same,” he said to Roppi. “We don’t need to be enemies—”

“We do,” Roppi cut him off, glowering.

Shinichi blinked, then lowered his gaze. Sebastian had killed someone very close to him… he sought vengeance too, didn’t he? “Maybe we do. But I don’t see any reason to have to kill you when I know I can escape with Ciel. I don’t wish to kill humans under any circumstance.” Roppi’s mouth twisted in hatred. Humans, huh? “You…” – he looked at his enemy with chasms that were now sorrowful, albeit hollow – “…have a hole in your heart now, too, don’t you?”

Roppi only scowled and looked away.

“I ask that you let us leave without any other attack. If we fight one-on-one, you will die.” Shinichi turned his back, gesturing for Ciel to start heading in the direction they’d been heading in. “Therefore, I won’t fight you.” He turned his head one last time to give Roppi an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry that things had to be this way,” he said, and they began walking off.

Roppi stood silently, chest rotting from the inside. That’s right…, he thought, lifting the machine gun again. I do have a hole in my heart. And that’s why…! He aimed the gun with ease and fired without another thought. Shinichi was on Ciel in an instant, then carrying him away at inhuman speeds until they were beyond his sights in the woods. Shinichi had protected him effectively, though Roppi thought he might’ve clipped Shinichi at least once.

Roppi growled to himself, throat rumbling, noise rising into a scream of frustration. I’ll kill Izaya. I’ll kill Kuroha. The Gourmet. Yoh. Whoever. I’ll kill Ciel. I’ll kill them. I’ll kill them. He bashed the side of his fist and his forearm into the rock he’d hid behind, again and again, waiting for the storm of emotions to pass so he could think logically once more. It wasn’t until his arm was bruised and bloody that he gathered everything up again and continued on his mission.

* * *

“What’s even the story behind that weird-ass knife, anyway?” asked Senji, also known as the Crow. Tsukiyama was leading the way northeast for his rebuilt group of himself, Senji, Rin Tohsaka, and Hide.

Hide was the one holding the knife, squinting at the bottom of the hilt to try and make out what was engraved there. “I dunno, actually,” he said, and Rin looked into the air and away, shaking her head. “I mean, I’ve never really had to have a weapon. I mean, once I used fireworks on a guy, which is funny because back when I was in high school someone shot fireworks at me. That’s how I came up with the idea, so it all worked out in the end. This knife, though? I don’t know. Looks medieval or something. My friend would probably know about it; he’s really into history and stuff.”

“History, huh?” commented Rin, closing her eyes.

“Your friend?” asked Senji, cocking an eyebrow.

“Yeah…” Hide glanced at the oddly quiet Gourmet leading the way. “He’s been missing for some time back home, but I hope to find him soon. Everyone’s on the lookout. Real sad, actually, since there’s this girl that’s worried sick about him.” He frowned, quirking his own eyebrow. “Honestly, you’d think he’d come back for sure if there was a pretty girl like her waiting for him!”

“Perhaps he is preoccupied with other things?” suggested Tsukiyama. “Maybe he has business to attend to first.”

“I dunno man, she’s a keeper,” Hide shrugged, and Rin rolled her eyes.

“Remember, Hideyoshi-kun,” said Tsukiyama, holding up his index finger, “a lover isn’t the only thing someone should look forward to.”

“Maybe he has more important things than relationships on his mind,” Rin added.

“Yeah, a woman doesn’t always make up a man, y’know?” said Senji. “Sometimes… most of the time… girls are just distracting.” He paused. “Especially if they’re pretty.”

“What does that mean?” asked Rin, putting her hands on her hips.

“Oh, don’t you even try!” Senji shot back. “Just—just—why do you gotta—gotta wear such a short skirt like that?!” He pointed at her accusingly.

“It’s not that short,” she frowned. “And you shouldn’t even be looking down there if you’re so uncomfortable!”

“You shouldn’t be wearing something revealing like that in the first place – something bad could happen!”

“I can handle myself just fine!” she huffed. “And I could beat your ass!”

“Hey—hey, wait, hold on—”

“Neither of you will duel!” snapped Tsukiyama, turning on them. It had already occurred to him to try and manipulate them all to his advantage, but then his epiphany from the night before came back to him, reminding him of his decision… No, he’d only use them if the situation called for it. He’d just tread carefully until then. “Calmato… We are working together, n’est-ce pas? Please. I’d like for us to get along so that we may work effectively.”

“Nah, I’m sure the banter will help us all become friends!” Hide beamed.

“Right—” Senji looked at Hide, brow furrowed. “Is it, like, serious with your friend? What happened to the kid? He just run off?”

“Well, nah, that’s not it. I know something happened to him…” Hide scratched at his cheek, looking at his knife of stone. “…But he’s one of those guys who never asks for help, so it’s hard to figure out what’s going on. I bet he’s fine, just reading a book somewhere.”

“I’m sure this is a discussion that is irrelevant to this ridiculous death battle,” Rin sighed heavily.

“What kind of books?” asked Tsukiyama, intrigued. Rin frowned at him, annoyed.

“Huh? Sorry, I’m not much for books myself,” Hide laughed. “I’m more of a music guy, so it’s hard for me to remember.”

“That’s alright,” Tsukiyama nodded. “I, like your friend, very much love to read… From old-fashioned to modern, oui.”

Hide nodded. “Yeah, if there’s one thing I know, it’s his favorite author. You might’ve heard of her if you like books like him. Ah… Sen Takatsuki?” Hide watched Tsukiyama with a good-natured face, eyes stirring as he watched the reaction. He wanted to know whether his theory was right.

“Hmm…” Tsukiyama touched his chin, suspicion sparking. “Ah, I do know her work. There’s even a particular café I know she likes to go to often.”

“Wow, really?!” Hide was quite happy with this. “I’ll have to tell him about it. Right, ah… His name is Kaneki, by the way.” The bomb was dropped.

Tsukiyama stopped, turning on his heel with a shocked expression. “Kaneki-kun?

Hide blinked at him. Inwardly, he felt the confirmation and absorbed it. “Um, you know him?” He was very good at playing the fool.

“Ah—” Tsukiyama cleared his throat. “Yes, c’est vrai.”

“How many languages are you going to speak?” questioned Rin.

“Wait, wait, so you both know the same guy?” Senji asked, holding up his hands. All four of them had stopped walking now.

“Yes…” Tsukiyama closed his one open eye. “He’s…a player in this game.”

That wasn’t a part of the theory. “Wait, really?” Hide asked, leaning in. “Seriously?”

The Gourmet nodded. “Indeed; he is in Group 1. He’s one of the two I mentioned we would not be fighting.”

“Really…,” commented Rin. “Huh.”

“So, wait, maybe we should go over who we’re up against,” suggested Senji. “Can you pull everyone we’re facing off the top of your…?” Senji shook his head. “Eh, we can just deal with it when it comes.”

“No – I’d like to know as much as we can know,” said Rin firmly, and Tsukiyama nodded. “I actually know one of the other new members myself… Well, I know him by name. Kiritsugu Emiya… is a mage like me.” She paused. “Well, for the most part. He’s the father of an—ally of mine.”

“Huh – mages…” Senji crossed his arms. “Different realms…” He shook his head. “Weird. Wonder if there’s anyone else from mine. I figure if anyone’s here, Ganta would be.”

Tsukiyama straightened. “Ah…”

“Say, speaking of mages, I think I figured out what this is supposed to be,” remarked Hide, holding up the stone knife.

“What’s that?” asked Senji.

“When my friend and I – Kaneki and I, that is – when we were little, we were in a play together. I was the witch’s servant, see, and I had a…plastic version of this? Kinda…?”

“Kaneki-kun was in a play?” Tsukiyama, distracted from the deceased Ganta, was alight with curiosity. The Gourmet began to chuckle. “I can see him doing something like that…”

“Yeah, kinda weird since he seems so quiet, but I convinced him to try out – he got the main part,” Hide said proudly.

“Really!” Ah, a little Kaneki-kun playing the lead role of a play…! Très mignon; how cute!

“As interesting as all of this is,” said Rin, sarcasm sprinkled lightly in her tone, “…what, exactly, is that up there?” She pointed upwards, and everyone looked. In the air, floating higher as they watched, there was some kind of small air balloon, making its way upwards.

Senji, Rin, and Hide, lost as to what it could be, turned to Tsukiyama, who knew the game better and might be able to define the cause. Tsukiyama was seen peering at the air balloon with as much perplexity as them. He eventually turned to them in all indignation. “…Well, I have no idea what it is,” he sniffed.

Senji and Hide looked at one another and shrugged, while Rin slumped and pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head.

 

Chapter 34: Motive

Chapter Text

 

“Can I ask what you’re doing?” Akise asked Twelve curiously, watching him lay out all of the items he’d gathered on the floor of a store, kneeling on the tiles and beginning to assemble something or another. He’d insisted on heading towards the shopping district once he’d heard about it, and so that’s where Izaya’s group was now.

Upon reaching the district, Twelve had, on Izaya’s permission, begun a scavenger hunt: Suzuya was to find bright-colored paint, a lighter, and some birthday candles; Akise was to find some thick and sturdy wire, wire cutters, aluminum foil, and a glue gun; Celty was to find a large plastic bag and some sandwich bags; and Izaya was to find spoons, paper towels, and hot water. Izaya had stared him down for some time, then smiled a squinty smile and said, “Interesting,” before proclaiming he would be the first to be ready. Twelve had announced the hunt to be a race, so they’d all met up in this specific building, where Twelve was now doing his own thing on the ground. Twelve himself had had to find baking soda and vinegar, it seemed, so he wasn’t left out on the hunt.

[I’d also like an explanation.], Celty agreed, and Twelve blinked at her phone screen before going back to hot gluing some birthday candles to some aluminum foil that he had molded into a little cup.

“It’s such a shame I can’t hear your voice, Miss Celty,” Twelve answered. “I’m sure your voice is pretty.”

There was a puff of something like smoke out of the bottom of her helmet before she typed her response and stiffly showed him her answer: [Thank you, I think.]

“You’re changing the subject,” Izaya pointed out, raising his thin eyebrows. “I’m admittedly curious! What is it you’re making, hm?~ I’m going to suppose some kind of bomb with the vinegar and baking soda, but I can’t say I’m too sure about the rest!”

“I’m making a hot air balloon,” Twelve stated, and Suzuya, who was crouched beside him, tilted his head questioningly. “Don’t worry, it’s not just a hot air balloon.” He twisted the wire, which he’d already shaped into an ‘x,’ into the plastic bag before lifting the miniature hot air balloon and smiling at it, satisfied. “Let’s take it outside, shall we? I have something else I need to make anyway.”

So the supplies were brought outside. During the beginning of his project, they had gathered some food in the sections where they could. The only one that didn’t need to eat was Celty, though Twelve was waiting on eating so that he could finish his little project.

“Izaya,” he said as he poured some baking soda onto a paper towel he had laid out, “…you said there was a barrier around the playing area, right? I just wanna see how high this thing goes. I wanna see whether it’s a dome that has a top… or whether there’s an exit.” He folded the paper towel into a packet-like structure, holding in the baking soda. Twelve then grinned at Suzuya. “Ya wanna see something cool?”

“Huh?” Suzuya blinked at him.

“If you take baking soda like this…” – he began wrapping another paper towel around it – “and you put it in a plastic bag full of vinegar, warm water, and paint…” – he filled a plastic bag with the ratio he wanted as he spoke, then paused as he performed this act. “…You get a paint bomb!”

“A paint bomb?” Suzuya repeated. He seemed excited.

“Yeah! Neat, right?”

“This way, if the timing is right, then there’s something to mark the top of the barrier,” commented Akise, nodding. “Clever…”

“I like the idea myself,” Izaya grinned. “Nice.”

“I must thank Suzuya for selecting a wonderful red paint – red’s my favorite,” Twelve beamed. “Now I just gotta light these candles and make sure this thing can fly with a paint bomb in tow…” He tied the paint bomb to it, lit the candles, and then put the paper towel packet in the sandwich bag before sealing it and releasing his creation. It began its slow takeoff. “Look at that! Mission accomplished!”

“We’ll see about that when the paint bomb goes off,” Izaya answered, quirking an eyebrow.

Twelve shrugged as he got to his feet. “Or when it doesn’t. Rather… or if it flies away and we can’t see it anymore because the barrier’s really big or nonexistent up there.” He stretched. “Either way – fun!”

[Won’t this tell other players exactly where we are, though?] asked Celty, seeming nervous.

“Izaya said that we wanted a huge alliance anyway,” Twelve pointed out. “And besides, the only person we should have to worry about is the Yato guy, and Izaya’s already mentioned that when he teleports like that, he’s exhausted for a bit.”

“So it all works out,” Izaya beamed, holding up an index finger.

“Man, though…,” said Twelve, gazing at the air balloon swaying and shifting in the breeze as it rose higher. He shook his head. “That Yato guy… his voice was seriously like the blue of lightning. Gave me after-images. Beautiful.”

“After-images?” inquired Suzuya.

“Yeah, like when you look at the sun or something really bright, and then you look away and it’s like you can’t get it out of your eyes.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah!” Suzuya nodded emphatically, coming to an understanding.

“His voice, burned into your eyes?” Akise repeated, touching his chin thoughtfully. “I wonder…”

“I have Synesthesia,” Twelve explained, brushing himself off from the gravel and the baking soda. Suzuya looked confused, but didn’t ask.

[What is that?] asked Celty. She shifted a bit, as though awkward she didn’t know the term.

He waved her off with a grin. “It’s like senses getting all mixed up. It can mean a lot of things, but I specifically can see sounds.” He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “It’s the reason I’m so disappointed about being unable to hear your voice, Celty… I wonder what your color might be. Izaya is just a boring dark grey.”

“Hah?” Izaya cocked an eyebrow at that. He lifted his arms at either side, hands in his pockets. “Well, what’s that mean?”

“It means your voice sounds dark grey,” he laughed. “I dunno. It’s actually not all that rare a color. Not really common, but not really rare, either.”

“What about me?” asked Suzuya, pointing at himself with his wide eyes.

“You’re a light red like the paint you gave me,” he smiled at him. “And Akise, you’re a light blue-silver. It’s a really pretty one… I’ve not often seen that, either. It’s why I had to compliment your voice when I met you.”

“Ah, I see…” He smiled a gentle smile, rose eyes warm. “It makes sense now. Thank you.”

“What do you mean, see sounds?” asked Suzuya. “Do you see the color come outta our mouths when we talk?”

“Well, no. As in…” Twelve thought about it. “Like… just flashes or swirls of color in front of me when I hear you. It moves as you talk, and it’s different depending upon what your tone is; how you express it. After you’re done, the color fades.” He held his hands out in front of him. “I see it at the same time I see the regular world, so it’s not like, say, I could go into a crowded area where everyone’s talking and get blinded with all that color. I think it’s different for other people, but that’s the way it is for me, anyway.” He smiled an almost cat-like smile. “Pretty cool, huh?”

“Yeah…,” Suzuya commented. He seemed unable to comprehend the concept in his amazement. “Do you think… it’s kind of like… what color people are dyed by the world?”

Twelve blinked. “Hmm… I never thought of it that way. I mean, I’ve never met anyone who’s pure white,” he grinned. “But then again, the darker someone is, it doesn’t really mean they’re more tainted. Someone with a paler color can still be pretty… dyed, y’know?”

“Oh, yeah, I guess so.” Suzuya looked at the ground, thinking.

“Perhaps an aura?” suggested Akise. “That’d be my thought.”

“Dark grey, hah?” Izaya crossed his arms.

[I think it suits him.], said Celty.

“Do you know your own color?” asked Izaya, eyebrows up.

Twelve shrugged. “If I were to guess, I’d be red like Suzuya, but I couldn’t tell you. It’s not the same with my own voice, you know?”

[Does this have to do with your name being 12?] tried Celty, but Twelve shook his head.

“Not sure how you got that idea – I’m not the numerical kind.” He shrugged. “Me being Twelve is a different story; a longer story. It’s just my name; that’s all.”

Celty nodded. [I understand.]

“There’s something I don’t understand,” remarked Izaya, gazing up at the now-distant air balloon.

[That Yato person?]

“No, no, actually…” The informant looked at the boy detective, Akise. “What is your weapon, Akise?”

Akise blinked, then smiled a sly smile. He lifted a small navy blue notebook from the pocket of his blue jacket, holding it up to demonstrate. “Maybe it’s my notebook.”

Suzuya jumped to snatch it away and sneak a peek, but Akise had already pocketed it again. “Hahhh…? No fair…!”

“Sorry, Suzuya-kun, but I’d rather keep a hold on it.”

Celty tilted her helmet to the side. [What’s inside?]

“You can’t just leave us in the dark.” Izaya patted at his pocket with the information papers that Akise had given him. “You already had a hold of these papers, so you’ve seen my own item, hm? And admittedly, thanks to you I know that a certain enemy has already been defeated. It still stands, though, that you aren’t on this sheet, Akise-kun…” He leaned in, cold smile widening.

“That’s true,” Akise conceded. “I don’t know about that. I can admit that I recorded what was on those pages in my own notebook – it’s my investigation diary, you see… And I can also admit that I have the weapons and species of each player recorded, as well.” He closed his eyes. “It’s useful… so if you ever need to know something about a person, we can collaborate on information; how’s that? As for myself, just ask any question you like. I’ll answer honestly, whether you trust me or not.” He opened his eyes sharply, unsmiling. “I am someone that has always sought the ultimate truth. Whatever is going on in this game is no exception… So I will contribute all I can to the cause of solving this mess.” He began to smile again. “Izaya, your name seems to be based on the name of the prophet Isaiah, who could supposedly prophesize the mysteries of faith in vivid clarity… If you, an informant, can match your namesake… then I’m sure you and I can uncover the truth together.”

Izaya’s mouth twisted in amusement. “Why, of course…”

“And Celty, Twelve, and Suzuya all seem to be a great help as well,” Akise added, straightening his posture. “All five of us together can defeat this game.”

“That we can,” Izaya grinned. “We won’t be the game masters’ puppets… We’re all making it to whatever tower or underground shelter they have.”

“Yeah!” cried Suzuya. “The bastards’ll hafta face us!”

“We’ll win the secret game!” Twelve agreed whole-heartedly.

“A game within a game… Huh.” Akise closed his eyes, mouth upturning.

“And seeing as we have the intuitive skills of Akise, the handiwork and creativity of Twelve, the physical prowess of Suzuya, and the overall competence of Celty, I think we’ll be able to unite the other players just fine.” Izaya’s mouth thinned as his smile widened. “Because I can surely convince them if they disagree, heh?~”

“Y’know, I still don’t like your eyes,” said Suzuya to the informant, “but I might be okay with you, a little bit.”

“Well… thanks,” Izaya responded, and Twelve laughed while Akise smiled in amusement.

Celty watched the scene unfold before her, the observer in this particular conversation. Her right hand clutched her phone close to her chest. Admittedly, her right arm was broken, but her shadow-suit hid the splint alright. In fact, she didn’t even have her left hand anymore. There was no sign of regeneration, and even though it looked like she had both hands, her left was really just a black hand-shaped shadow. It was the reason she’d been typing with only her right hand, so she knew that Izaya had surely noticed by then. He’d probably bring it up later to make a jab at her – with her current lack of arm control, she was just glad that she had made her scythe dissipate before she’d sliced Izaya’s head clean off. He was an asshole, but he didn’t deserve to die… maybe. He probably would have dodged anyway, but still.

She shook her helmet in the negative and slipped her phone back into her right sleeve. So Shizuo had been in the game… and likely, he’d…

She bowed her helmet downwards, clenching her fists – both real and phantasm. For Shizuo to die… she wondered, had he been in the same group as Izaya? How had that gone? And how had he died…? How was it affecting the self-serving informant who so loathed the ex-bartender, the so-called ‘monster’? It was true that Izaya was acting strange to her… Maybe, she thought, she should tell Izaya about where the control center was and her theory on the game masters, which had been formed when she had had her lengthy discussion with Aureus.

She remembered the encounter vividly – it had been after she’d broken off from her group of Eto and Shiro… She needed to get out of there, and she had managed to escape the group during the confusion of the battle between her group and the allied groups of 3 and 4. Shiro, by then the Wretched Egg, had been facing six other players at once while Eto played innocent: Maka, Nora, Rika, and Minene were among them. When Maka ordered their groups’ retreat, Celty bolted in a different direction from either team and had ended up coming across Aureus’s hatch at some point for shelter. The golden-haired items master had offered her her long-missing head, but…

Celty shook her helmet again, snapping herself out of it. At some point or another, she would have to tell Izaya about what she had learned, and how her game had come to an end. At the very least, she needed to tell Akise… Looking at Izaya, she began to question his behavior again. Yeah, something was different, but was it genuine? And even if it were, had he changed for better or for worse? She wished she could see inside this guy’s head…

Izaya rounded up the group and suggested they set out again, and everyone agreed heartily. Yeah, everyone was back in the palm of his hand, it seemed… He looked up to where Twelve’s air balloon soared, bobbing in the wind currents. Akise likened me to Isaiah the prophet… He who enlightened the world of the mysteries of faith, huh? His smile faded, eyes cold as ever. Yeah, I know all about it – I could preach it to the saints how faith really works… Whether there’s a god or not… or even whether it’s different for every realm – I don’t know. But there is a function of faith in everyone’s reality… If ‘Faith’ is associated with ‘God,’ and a God is something that controls your life; something you believe in. Something you hold faith in. And following that idea, Yato is no God. Perhaps a god, but not a God in the more essential sense of the word. No… Yato has his own God, and it’s been following him since day one, no, for longer than this game has been going. It’s been haunting him, too, and at last it’s grabbed him… He’s let it become his God: his past. Closing his eyes, Izaya sighed lightly. What a foolish move… Yeah, what a weak god, huh? If all gods are just like humans, just like him… Well, I have to say, it’s…

…It’s rather terrifying.

Opening his eyes, he continued to walk along with the others through the shopping district, making a witty remark here and there to remain part of the discussion. He wondered when it was that Yato would be back. He figured he’d go after Kuroha first, only to find that he was already dead, or so it seemed according to Izaya’s new info sheets. It made Izaya want to bust into cruel laughter, but… No, he knew the plan was to find other groups as quickly as possible. And that was what his group would do for now, always on-guard.

* * *

Yato walked along the edge of the playing field, running his hand along the invisible barrier and making a line of softly glowing blue. Though he was exhausted from the teleportation, his blood was still buzzing with the ecstasy of murder – yes, the thrill still felt so good… He revisited the sensation of running the blond girl through, over and over again. The satisfaction of beheading her; of slicing right through her neck. Her eyes had been filled with the knowledge that she wouldn’t make it, such… a good, good feeling. A succulent… flavor, of… calamity, tragedy, depravity – he was, yes, a warmonger, and it made him… it made him…

…Sick. He felt sick.

It made him; oh, it made him, alright… This was his ‘true nature,’ what he was made for. He could never be a god of fortune like Yukine believed he could be if he tried. No, his hands could only destroy… It was the reason that such terrible things kept following in his wake – it was why he had accidentally killed his first real Shinki; the reason he still enjoyed this sick and twisted hobby; the reason that Hiyori had gotten caught up in this and had died; the reason that he couldn’t save Yukine…

Nora walked along beside him, her wooden sandals sinking into the earth they trod upon. There was a small smile on her doll-like features, her neatly cropped hair moving with her as she walked. Was this his destiny? His fate? Was this bloody road the one that he was meant to follow?

After he had transported them away they’d appeared at the western edge of the playing field, and he had staggered to his feet on his own even though she had offered her hand to help him up. His ears rang; he heard echoes of Izaya’s voice in his ears, mocking his choice and decision. At first it made him feel the urge to vomit, but as his thoughts continued in their processes, Izaya’s logic made less and less sense.

“Shouldn’t you keep going for the sake of Yukine’s memory?” asked Izaya.

I am still going.

(Just the wrong way.)

“He was a determined boy; he believed in you, you know.”

I know.

“It would be a waste to deny the wishes of that memory, wouldn’t you say?”

(Yukine believed; he believed in my potential to be a good person. He had a rough start too, but I took care of him, and…)

…And let him die, didn’t I? It’s fate.

“I’m sure that if you’d done more,” Izaya smiled, “he’d be fine.”

He was the best part of me. Him and Hiyori both. They were the reason that I believed I could exist without engraving my memory by means of genocide. Yeah, I’d given it up before – but isn’t it also true that I turned to bloodshed so quickly? Even if they were alive, wouldn’t I have been willing to kill? Was it even true that I wanted to be a god of fortune, knowing I still have some sort of satisfaction in the slaughter? Maybe not. Even at the end, I was still lying to him…

“I’m sure… that he thought of you like a father.”

Yato paused in walking. A father… What a shitty father he was, huh? He saw Izaya’s mouth beginning to smile, and the thought morphed itself into the image of his own father – a sly manipulator, a puppeteer.

“He started growing on me, too, and I don’t want my time spent with him to be wasted, either…,” Izaya said, and Yato began to growl.

Nora, too, had stopped, looking at her master with vague curiosity.

In Yato’s head, it was Shizuo’s voice that he recalled, now: “There is no way in hell that came from the ‘warmth of your heart’ or whatever the fuck you called it. You couldn’t give a single shit about whether Yato lost Yukine or not – you fucking flea.”

That’s right… Fists clenching, he continued walking forward, ignoring Nora’s soft and polite inquiry of what was wrong. Izaya is exactly like him. My father. He’s a self-serving puppeteer; he needs his control. He didn’t want me to serve Yukine’s memory; he wanted me not to betray him. Not to realize that if he hadn’t acted on the attack that he knew was coming, Yukine would still be—!

Yato closed his eyes. Izaya’s smiling face was cold and cruel in his mind’s eye. Yeah, if it weren’t for him, Yukine would still be around. That girl, the biker in the yellow helmet – she was the one who killed Hiyori. And those two combined, working together… he wanted nothing to do with it.

The god looked at Nora out of the corner of his eye, pace slowly and steadily returning to what may be considered a normal speed. Yeah, maybe it was true that he wanted nothing to do with her, either… nothing to do with his own father. But why had that been, again?

This game they were all caught up in… it wasn’t really all about killing. Yato knew that. If that were the case, Kuroha would be much farther along than he was already. No, all of this was the workings of the ultimate puppet masters: the Voices that gave instruction. With the way things were going, this game was more than just kill or be killed. It was about strategy and higher thinking. It was about uniting as one, but if Yato knew anything, it was that there was no way in Hell that he would remain with Izaya and the biker girl. In fact, Yato wanted to relish in their blood…

Not just “kill or be killed,” huh… Yato thought that maybe he was smiling. He couldn’t tell. “Kill or be killed” was the way this game had been described, hadn’t it? This was all still a form of battle royal. “Kill or be killed” – that was the kind of world I was born into… But in the end, I kept at that mentality not only to survive… but because I wanted to. Wasn’t that the case?

The god stopped walking, then, and leaned against the invisible barrier, staring into the sky. “Uniting as one” is the goal of the game, huh…? His mouth twitched. Nora was standing patiently before him. I really suck. To think, someone like me as the kind of guy who could help others? My old man was right; no one will ever stick around the God of Calamity… I don’t know how to give. I can only steal from others; I could never make anyone else happy. He felt his shoulders shaking – he heard his own breathy laughter. This is it, isn’t it? Who I am.

“You’re laughing,” Nora commented, her jaded eyes filled with her warmth; her jaded love.

“I guess I am,” he agreed, curling forward where he stood. Behind him, the barrier emanated blue.

“Does it feel good?” she asked, her tone sincere.

Yato shook his head, bringing his hands to his face.

“I want the Yato I knew back,” she said, tilting her head with a slight smile. “I want us to be family again… Can we?”

“There’s nothing holding me back,” he said.

“There isn’t,” she confirmed.

“Nora…”

Her eyes flickered in discontent. “…Will you say my name? I want to hear your name for me. Like back then.”

The god looked away for some time. He had made his decision. Yet…

Even after all of this, it had always tempted me to go back. Why hesitate now? Yeah, it’s my ‘nature,’ as a God of Calamity I bring destruction. As a God of Depravity I steal from others. As a God of War I shall create bloodshed. He looked at Nora. And like back then, I should enjoy every moment of it. His mouth twisted into a lopsided imitation of a smile. His eyes, glowing blue, looked rather tired – his pupils were still slits. There was a time where Nora had been like a sister to me, right?

“…Hey…”

Nora looked at him with some hope. “Yes, Yato?”

“Nora…” He shook his head. “I mean… Hiiro… do you want… to, play with me again?” His words came out haltingly, and they felt strange in his mouth. Nora didn’t seem to notice or mind, immediately coming forward and embracing Yato. He took pause, then returned the hug. It felt wrong.

“I knew one day, we could be together again…” She smiled at him, eyes shining. “I’m always pleased to be your weapon, Yato…” She gripped his hands in her own and squeezed. Yato stared at her. “Aa, you lead the way,” she said, releasing one hand but holding onto the other.

He looked down at her for a few seconds, confused and conflicting emotions brewing. “…Let’s go,” he said, and they continued on.

 

Chapter 35: (Not) Knowing

Chapter Text

 

Akira, Saiko, and Touka were still on their respective hospital beds for some time. Akira was giving a quick rundown of the people that had survived the female game, sitting up in her bed. Touka, on the other hand, was passed out while Saiko tried to take a nap on her own bed. Shirazu was frowning about it, nudging Saiko’s hospital bed with his foot occasionally to knock the blue-haired gal from slumber. Kaneki was sitting on his chair beside Touka’s bed, head hanging low. On the other hand, Seidou was sitting in the chair that Shintaro had been in on the opposite side of the room from all of the hospital beds, hands folded together and gaze averted from everyone else. After Akira’s description of Maka, Nora, Celty, Minene, and Rika, it was Light who next spoke up. “So then, with all of the talk… If I may, does that mean that the three of you… plus Kaneki, Seidou, and Shirazu – you’re all from the same world?”

“That’s right,” Akira confirmed with a curt nod.

“Yeah, we’re from different spaces of time, so it’s kinda confusing,” said Shirazu. “Mado-san, well, Akira…” He paused, shaking his head quickly to get rid of a blush. “…Um, she, Saiko, me, and probably Touka are from the same time period… I’m pretty sure.” He looked at Saiko. “Even though she mentioned my hair being gone, so I dunno. But—then Kane-kun and Seidou are from before us, so… yeah.”

“‘From different spaces of time’… Hm,” said Kiritsugu.

“The Gourmet ghoul is also here,” Seidou added tightly. “I think he’s from mine and Kaneki’s time, too. I dunno about when Juuzou Suzuya’s from, but he’s from the CCG like me.”

“There’s also Hideyoshi Nagachika…” Kaneki’s voice was softer, more lost.

“Yeah… a volunteer at the CCG; weird,” Seidou scratched at his head.

Kaneki looked at him with his blank eyes, recognition flickering. That’s right, when the new players were announced, Seidou had also said his name… Hide was volunteering at the CCG?

“Nagachika-kun and I often eat lunch together,” Seidou said thoughtfully. “We’ll have to find him.”

“Absolutely,” said Kaneki, lowering his head again.

“Another guy I don’t know… Huh…” Shirazu frowned, and looked to Akira for help. “Say, I dunno Seidou either, but you guys know each other fine. Is it ‘cause he works in the twentieth and I work in the first?”

“He doesn’t,” she said flatly, facing forward. Seidou blinked, startled by her blunt and almost harsh-sounding response. Then he frowned in annoyance about it. “You have come to know him here, correct?”

Shirazu had straightened up. “Um… Yeah…”

“Then there’s no need to ask pointless questions.” She gave Shirazu a meaningful look, and he shut up, swallowing nervously. Saiko began to snicker into her pillow, and he frowned in her direction.

“I think that now would be a good time to search the hospital for anything of use,” said Kiritsugu. “At the very least, it would be good to give ourselves a mental blueprint of the building.”

Light nodded. “And then we can also figure out where people will stay on watch tonight, or where we might be ambushed… as well as where we can sleep.”

“Speaking of which,” grumbled Seidou, “if that’s the case… Well, I wonder where Shintaro went to rest.”

“Oh, yeah, we should find him,” Shirazu nodded enthusiastically.

“Mm, I hope he’s alright…,” said Saiko, and Shirazu looked at her curiously.

“We should probably split up at this point,” said Akira, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. “So long as we remain in the building, this should be fine. There won’t be any traps within – if anything, we’ll be ambushed, and if that happens…” She got to her feet. “In that case it would be better to be in more than one group anyway. I’d like to come along, myself, but there should be at least one person staying behind to keep an eye on Touka.”

“I will stay,” Kaneki said immediately, and she nodded.

“Fine. The remaining six of us will split into two groups of three,” said Akira matter-of-factly. “Saiko and Kiritsugu will be with me… Seidou, Shirazu, and Light will be in the other.”

“But I wanna be with you and Saiko, man,” argued Shirazu, and Seidou’s mouth twitched.

“You should be with someone you’ve been working with longer in this game,” Akira answered, closing her eyes. “As I have been working alongside Saiko, it seems that you have been working with Seidou for some time. You should continue to do so – it will be more effective in the event of an ambush.”

Shirazu frowned, rubbing at the back of his head. “I…guess that’s true.”

“But what if I don’t wanna get up?” asked Saiko.

“You’re following me,” Akira said bluntly, and Saiko immediately jumped to her feet at the tone of her voice. Light laughed a bit at the reaction.

Seidou sighed heavily, getting to his feet. He was admittedly glad Akira had chosen to be in a separate group from him, but it pissed him off that she was the one that had decided the groups in the first place. Unfortunately, he couldn’t really find anything to argue with about the plan, so there was nothing he could say. “Alright – Shirazu, Light… come on with me. We’ll search the ground floor and the basement. Akira’s group will search the second and third floors.” At least he could govern that much, right?

“Sounds good.” Her voice was calm as ever. Ugh, this was pissing him off all over again…

So the six of them went to the main lobby, where there were stairs to be found in the side wings. The elevators were shut off, so it was the best way to go about things. Here was where they were meant to split off.

“Hey, Seidou; I think I found something from Shintaro!” said Shirazu, lifting a paper from the reception desk.  It was folded into threes, and it said to Seidou-san on the front. Saiko stopped, wanting to know what it said. She tugged on Akira’s jacket to keep her there, and Kiritsugu remained at their sides, maintaining an impassive expression.

“Well, what did he write?” Light inquired, sharp eyes looking at the note as if trying to pry it open with his gaze.

“I’ll see,” Seidou frowned, intensely aware of everyone watching him as he opened it up.

Hey, Seidou…
I know you’re not going to be very happy with me, reading this... In fact, you might be really angry. Maybe I’m even making things worse right now. But I want you to know that I’m going to be alright - I’m going to try and find Roppi, and I’m going to try to bring him back. Even if I can’t manage that much, I’m going to come back with the medical bag. Please don’t worry too much about me - it’ll defeat the purpose of my leave. Take good care of everyone there. You’re one of the reasons I know I’m going to make it. Thank you for everything... If, by chance, we don’t see each other again, please know that I did this because I chose to, and it’s okay to continue. I want you to make it out. Remember: it’s the people that matter. Do you remember that conversation we had? I needed that. You’re a hero here too. I just need to do this to prove to myself I’m not a bad guy. I hope you understand. This letter is my apology. So, please don’t hate me.
-- Shintaro Kisaragi

Seidou stared at the page for some time, absorbing the fact that Shintaro, too, had ran off. Before anyone could look over his shoulder, he held back the urge to crumple the paper before quickly folding it the way it had been.

“So he’s also off on his own?” asked Light, brow furrowed. “That’s not exactly a smart move, for a genius…”

Seidou brought a hand to his face. “Yeah—I know. Shut up.” He gripped at his hair, jaw tightening. His incompetence was festering, making his face hot, folding together his chest and squeezing at his lungs. Stupid, stupid, stupid… How stupid am I? What kind of leader…? He slammed his fist onto the reception desk. Roppi, who was distraught over Tsuki, had ran off as a rebel. And now he couldn’t even keep Shintaro with him. What kind of leader was he, with one group member dead and his other two gone completely AWOL? “He should have stayed here…,” he said through gritted teeth. Yeah, he was pissed – mostly with himself, but he was pissed… Though to be honest he was more afraid for him than anything else, and the inability to do anything about it frustrated him. And being frustrated, well… Being frustrated just pissed him off!

He didn’t realize how tense he’d gotten until he jolted at a hand on his shoulder. The hand quickly removed itself, and he whirled around to see Akira. His anger only flared further. “What,” he said to her, and she furrowed her brow with a pained kind of smile. Her eyes were purple – he came back to the realization that he’d never looked right at her. He froze like that, and she seemed just as paralyzed. For the first time, they both looked at each other straight in the face.

“I…” Her eyes hazed, then returned to him. “…I had a subordinate, once… who disobeyed my orders and ran off to save someone we both cared deeply for.”

Seidou broke the eye contact, turning away. “Well he was a dumbass,” he retorted, folding up the paper once more and shoving it in his pocket.

Saiko and Shirazu were peering at the two of them with utmost confusion and curiosity, while Light and Kiritsugu analyzed the two of them intently.

Seidou didn’t expect much out of Akira after his remark – he would just leave it be, they’d part ways, and they’d do their own little missions apart from one another, just as planned. Then he heard her laughing softly. “Maybe he was… in his own way.” She sounded nostalgic, and the tone in her voice just sounded so strange to him. It was reminiscent of the way Shintaro sounded when he spoke of Ayano. “But all of us are, at some point.”

You, huh? You, who always bests me, all the time? He bit his tongue. Now wasn’t the time to snap back.

“But I don’t think we should live with regrets.”

Confused, he turned back to her. Everyone was looking at Akira, though she was gazing off somewhere no one else could see. What, is she gonna make some profound statement now? he thought irately.

“I think that even if we make a decision that doesn’t end ideally… even if a choice we make were to end in tragedy… even then, I think…” She closed her eyes, then opened them with a sharp intensity that Seidou could swear grazed him with some underlying significance that was just somewhere beyond him. “I firmly believe that if, in that time, your actions are taken because you believe them to be right down to your very core… if you believe in what you are doing in that moment, it isn’t in vain. No matter what becomes of it, no matter where it takes you, it was still a good decision even if it turns out rotten. Because the intent was pure, because in any other circumstance it would have been the correct choice… For this reason, so long as you take action in your own beliefs, you should never regret any of it. So…” She smiled at Seidou, though the sorrowful look in her eyes threw him off. For some reason, it made him exceedingly uncomfortable. “You shouldn’t worry for him. Even if something goes wrong, this was his choice to try and help, and you should be proud of him for it. And he shouldn’t regret that… and… you shouldn’t either.”

She’s empathetic, he thought in shock. Since when? Shit… and now she’s got a better heart than me now, too… I…

“Well said,” Light commented, respect evident in his countenance. Kiritsugu, on the other hand, looked ironically regretful.

Shirazu looked to Saiko for help on some kind of hidden meaning, but Saiko was staring silently at the floor.

“I—get it,” said Seidou shortly.

“Seidou,” she said, and though he didn’t look, he did stop. “Don’t harbor his choice. I’m sure he’s taken this path because of his own pure intentions. So… believe in him, as his leader. With you having been the one who guided him this far, I can trust him to do well.”

Seidou, bewildered by her speech and her possible compliment towards him, stiffly continued walking towards the cafeteria area. “Yeah,” was all he could get out. Light smiled at Akira’s group before following behind, while Shirazu stood still, dumbfounded for a few moments before he ran to catch up to the other two.

Akira looked after them, eyes distant. Takizawa… you have no idea… She closed her eyes, composing her own battling emotions before turning to the stairs.

“Shall we?” asked Kiritsugu.

She nodded. “Let’s go.”

“You think Shintaro’s gonna be okay?” asked Saiko, trotting along to keep up at Akira’s side.

“I don’t know,” Akira answered, “but I do believe… that he’s made the right choice.”


“I totally made the wrong choice,” Shintaro sighed heavily, leaning against the wall of a building and putting a hand on his chest. He looked up into the bright afternoon sky for a short time before closing his grey eyes, trying to muster up his determination once more. He couldn’t think too much – he had to rely on action. If he thought, he’d find himself trapped in the same place again… He feared the same apathy from the hospital room coming back, crushing his spirit and drowning him. The feeling of the lights, too bright… The people, too crowded… The overwhelming need to get away, almost exactly as though he were back in his classroom two years ago. That feeling had gotten so bad that he’d ran out of the room and never come back.

“…And now I’m a shut-in; I know,” he grumbled to himself, hunching forward in shame. He felt the darkness threatening to swallow him whole, his photographic memory painting precise pictures of the worst events he could possibly recall. Tightening his jaw, Shintaro knocked at his own head with the heel of his palm. “C’mon, c’mon…” Yeah, just like in that hospital room, the enticing thought of his scissors – he could feel them in his hands… No, stop thinking about it, stop thinking about it. What had triggered that? Kido, no… Ayano. Ene was dead. Ene, was—

I killed her. I killed Ene.

He felt his fingers on the keys of his computer, expression numb and cold. He saw the screen glitch to a static blue when he deleted her annoying self for the last time. The scissors were in his hand; he was in his room and he’d opened the curtains for once to a blood-red sunset, just like the day he’d told Ayano that she should go ahead and die for all he cared. And he saw the scissors in his hand, clear as day; he saw his own blood staining the metal. He saw his hands come together on the red hilt, burned into his mind like the sunset. And he gripped the scissors with all firmness; with all his being. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, and now shoving the blade of his scissors into his own throat, the crimson sky shining into the sides of his eyes as he collapsed backwards onto his bed, his own lifeblood spilling from his neck and onto the sheets – he had his own scarf of heroes for himself; he would join Ayano in Hell where he belonged—

Shintaro fell to his knees, gasping for air and clutching at his throat. He was fine. Alive. “What… the hell was that…?” he choked out, eyes wide and frantic. He searched his pockets – his scissors were in the pocket of his red jersey; the small stun gun was tucked into the pocket of his pants. The NEET shuddered; he’d broken into a sweat. Breathing heavily, he tried to calm himself down. I have no idea what that was… A fantasy? Waking nightmare? What the hell…

Shintaro tensed up and froze when he heard the sound of a machine gun in the distance. “Roppi,” he whispered. The sound stopped. Slowly, Shintaro got to his feet. “Regardless of that freakish vision,” he said, rubbing at his head, “…I need to find him.” He rubbed at his eyes, fading from a glowing red to their usual grey – not that he knew they were any different. Double-checking the security of his scissors and his stun gun, he hurried forward in the direction of the gunshots, determined to find his teammate, and soon.

 

Chapter 36: Allons-y

Chapter Text

 

Sometime after Roppi’s first use of his (Kiritsugu’s) machine gun, the runaway heard shouting somewhere far-off in his trek towards the south-western side of the playing field.  It had been perhaps an hour or less since he’d gotten up from that rock after his failure in assassinating the prissy earl Phantomhive or whatever.

But now, there were perhaps three voices he could make out in the distant argument, and one of them was female. Because of that, he wasn’t too sure what group might be approaching, but for now he was kind of in a kill-everything mood anyway, so to him it didn’t matter who he might find – if he had the chance to kill anyone, he would. If it was one of his targets, that was even better.

He walked to the top of a hill facing the thin woods – he was in the park area. Roppi then nestled himself in the grass just behind the peak, setting up his gun in preparation for the group that he heard steadily approaching. Patient; I just gotta be patient. Focus… Just focus.

One of the voices stood out to him, and he recognized it as it got closer… Yes, he knew that voice. Occasionally it would retort in an outburst of melodramatic flair that grated on Roppi’s nerves and reminded him of that fight… when Tsuki…

…The Gourmet. That meant this was Kuroha’s group. Even if I die here… if I can just cause some damage, I…! He’d already wrapped up the bloody and bruised arm that he’d beaten into the rock just an hour ago. He glanced at Tsuki’s medical bag, blood boiling. If it weren’t for this group, we would never have gotten into that fight. If we weren’t so focused on Kuroha, Sebastian wouldn’t have ambushed us the way he did – Tsuki would still be alive…! He heard the purple ghoul’s exclamation of fancy words again, and he ground his teeth together in rage. If the Gourmet… if he had the guts to try and stop Kuroha back then… If he were really on our side, then…!

The group came into view, and suddenly Roppi was honed in on his enemy. Now was time for examination of the situation at hand. Who was he up against? The fact still remained that he didn’t recognize a few of the voices in the group approaching – come to think of it, he didn’t hear the demon, either…

Before him were the four members of Group 5: there, the Gourmet in all his loud and flashy display of personality – Roppi swore he was a fucking peacock. Arguing with him was a girl with long black hair tied into pigtails with black ribbons – she was themed with red and black like him, a cross over her breast. Piping into the discussion was a spiky-haired guy without a shirt, and then there was the bleached-blond-haired kid who didn’t seem to be on anybody’s side. They were all having a simple argument; Roppi saw it all as aimless banter – they were bonding; getting to know one another through disagreement. The girl seemed to be a stubborn mule; the man without a shirt reminded him of someone who liked brute strength and took pride in it. The blond one struck him as the fool who only pretended to be oblivious. The Gourmet was still the Gourmet, plain and simple. Kuroha was nowhere to be seen.

What, is he dead? Seeing as there were four members to the Gourmet’s replenished group, Roppi suspected as such. Even so… I don’t know exactly what kind of people these guys are. A first impression can always be wrong, and with this game, there’s no telling what abilities these guys have… Hell, even what species they are. His muscles tensed as he prepared himself. While there’s still the element of surprise… I just need to remain on my guard – this is a ‘roll the dice’ kind of attack. I have to take whatever’s thrown at me… He took aim at the Gourmet, preparing to swing the machine gun around to hit everyone.

“I think it’s pretty awesome that we’re all from different realms,” commented Hide.

“I think it’s kinda inconvenient,” grumbled Senji, rubbing at his head. “I mean, it’s making this really difficult.”

“You’re just not seeing the challenge as exactly what it is,” Rin huffed. “It’s a challenge. This is a game, right? So it is meant to be played! An easy game would make it boring and pointless to win.”

“Little Rin is right!” cried Tsukiyama.

“Don’t call me ‘little Rin,’” she frowned, turning to him with her hands on her hips.

…Now.

Roppi opened fire, sending bullets showering like pellets over Tsukiyama’s impenetrable-by-metal skin, ripping through the arm of Rin before Senji jumped in front of her, earning bullets through his chest only to find that the attack continued over to Hide’s shoulder before the blond ducked and rolled to the side to avoid it on instinct.

Embuscade!” cried Tsukiyama, pointing in Roppi’s direction.

“Oh, fuck,” Senji choked, blood running down his torso and arms.

Rin jumped from behind him, right arm outstretching with her injured left stabilizing it. “Why, you—!”

She shot out a static ball of black and red, and Roppi rolled out of the way, bounding forward and somersaulting down the hill with the machine gun close to his chest. He landed and shot again, this time getting blocked by Senji, blood having materialized as long blades coming out of the backs of either wrist. Tsukiyama brought out his kagune at this point as Roppi shattered Senji’s Crow Claws with his gun. He dropped the weapon and dodged skillfully as Rin shot at him again with her mage abilities and Tsukiyama sliced at him with his kagune. Fast, Roppi thought, and compensated by making his moves erratic. He ran for where Senji’s Branch of Sin had shattered and grabbed at two of the shards, blocking Senji’s attack of two new blades with his small remnants of the previous ones – it was like two small knives against two swords. Tsukiyama tried to come at him from the back, but Roppi flipped over Senji, using his bulky shoulders as leverage while Rin shot at him again and again in a continuous output of curses composed of malicious intent.

Roppi was facing Senji and Tsukiyama at once: a Deadman and a ghoul. Rin, a mage, was shooting at him all the while. Can I make it? He didn’t think so. But had he left damage? Yeah, and that was all that mattered to him right now. His grip tightened on the shards in his hand, drawing blood from his fingers as he sliced at Tsukiyama and succeeded in grazing him.

“Ah, fuck you!” Senji yelled, trying to grab at him but to no avail. Roppi’s greatest skill was dodging, after all, and now he had a blade he was comfortable with, even though it sliced his fingers open when he held it. Facing these three, however, he forgot to take Hide into account. For this mistake he earned a stone knife to the shoulder that shocked his arm into dropping the first shard. He swung around to try and slice his assailant, but Hide had dodged already and for this Roppi was slashed at the side by both Tsukiyama and Senji, getting blown back by a curse from Rin that sent him flying. He felt the pain filling his bloodstream like poison. But pain… was what he thrived on, wasn’t it?

The curse had blown him back beside the machine gun. He still had a chance. Lying still with a grimace on his face, the four he was facing paused in their assessment, unsure whether he was down for the count. Tsukiyama held up a hand, signaling the others not to kill him just yet. Hide patiently picked up his knife, frowning slightly at it in his hand. “What is it you’re attacking for?” the Gourmet asked Roppi. At first, he didn’t answer. Then he’d twisted his body just so that he was crouched before them, clutching the gun at the ready with both of his hands. He tasted iron.

“What am I attacking for?” he spat. “You were with Kuroha, weren’t you…? If you’d stood up to him sooner, nowhere near as many would be dead right now!”

Senji and Rin looked to Tsukiyama, who’s eyes were glazed in regret. Hide put a hand to his chin, thoughtful but sympathetic.

“Kuroha should have killed you,” Roppi growled, blood catching in his throat, making him choke. “Yeah… Sebastian—he should have gotten rid of you!”

Tsukiyama’s eyes were sorrowful but hollow. “Je regrette. This is not my place… Forgive me.” He looked at Rin, Senji, and Hide. “He seems to be acting alone, out of blind anger. This will only cause us danger. Let us kill him quickly.”

Rin clicked her tongue and pointed her arm at Roppi – Senji brandished his arm blades with a cold but apologetic glare. Hide didn’t step forward, but did not argue, either. Scary, he thought simply, and closed his eyes.

Roppi! Hey, Roppi!

“What now?” Rin frowned, looking in the direction of the new voice.

They all turned to see a red-jerseyed teen just making it over the crest of the hill, struggling for air and waving his arm. “Don’t kill him!” he gasped. “Please, don’t kill him! I’m here to… to stop him now, it’s okay!”

“Do we kill ‘im too?” asked Senji, cocking an eyebrow and jerking a thumb at Shintaro.

The hikkiNEET waved his arms frantically. “No, no, no! I don’t wanna hurt you guys! Uh—!”

“Ah, aspetta, everybody!” Tsukiyama quickly rearranged himself so that he was before Roppi. Roppi shot at him in surprise, but the machine gun did nothing to him. Tsukiyama took the gun out of his hands and tossed it away from everyone. Then, he approached Shintaro. “Ah, the red-coat boy,” the Gourmet smiled, and Shintaro froze, completely and utterly confused.

“Uhh… yeah?” Shintaro began to shrink, terrified. Right, wasn’t he with Konoha…? I mean, Kuroha…

Tsukiyama’s eyes were shrouded with empathy and sorrow. “I’m very sorry, Shintaro-kun… Your friend is no more. Konoha, yes, he fought the demon until the end, but there was no other way. I’m sure he would have wanted it that you be protected…”

“Konoha?” Shintaro stared at him with wide, uncomprehending eyes. “He…?”

“But because of that…” – Tsukiyama closed his eyes – “…I will do my very best to protect—” The gourmet froze in a flash of blue. He opened his one good eye. “—you…”

“Tsukiyama!” shouted Rin, and Roppi turned his head to see Yato behind the Gourmet, sword through the ghoul’s chest. His red eyes widened in surprise.

The God of Calamity ripped Nora from Tsukiyama’s chest with a spurt of red, and Tsukiyama collapsed to his knees, clutching at his heart. Yato’s eyes glowed bright blue. “The last of Kuroha’s group is dead,” he said flatly.

Shintaro, recognizing Yato from the alliance they had had previously, took a step back in terror, Tsukiyama’s blood spattered on his red jacket. Time had stopped.

“…Ah, this pain… in my chest…,” whispered Tsukiyama hoarsely. “This… sincere heartache, is my… Shintaro-kun… Take care… of yourself… Kaneki-kun… I… Someone, please…” He choked out a spray of blood. “Ah, my bleeding heart…,” he murmured, and relaxed, eye glazing over in the hazy face of death.

Yato turned to the shocked new members of Group 5, having lost their only member from the original game. Roppi jumped into action, ready to take advantage of their disbelief and kill them all with the gun, if he could get to it fast enough. Yato had given him the perfect opening—!

“Run for the trees!” Hide shouted suddenly, and bolted for the woods. Senji and Rin barely spared one another a glance before following after him as fast as they could go.

Shintaro ran for Roppi, stumbling on the hill and nearly tumbling head-over-heels down it before catching himself and then grabbing onto Roppi and yanking him as hard as his shut-in arms would allow. “You’re coming with me!

He jerked backwards, bringing Shintaro back forward. “Why should I?!” Roppi hissed, red eyes burning.

Yato looked through the trees and smirked, jumping into the air and coming down on the woods, making a heavy blow that shook the ground and made a good-sized crater. “You think I want to kill you specifically? No, you three are inconsequential to me.”

“That’s why,” Shintaro said breathlessly, and grabbed Roppi’s wrist and ran with him without another word, scooping up the medical bag on the way. Roppi hesitated, but looking back to see Yato staring at them, Roppi went along with Shintaro and ran. They ran as fast as their legs could carry them; indeed, the two of them ran into the shopping district, where eventually Shintaro couldn’t run anymore, staggering and collapsing onto the street. “…Oww…”

“Dumbass,” Roppi frowned bitterly, brushing himself off and wiping at his bloody mouth. Behind them, it was eerily silent. He grabbed at Shintaro’s collar angrily, tugging him back to his feet and shoving him into a nearby wall. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” he asked, slamming him into the wall again.

Shintaro grimaced, head spinning. Then he looked into the roughed-up face of Roppi, smiling a timid and lopsided smile. “I… know what’s going on with you. I wanted to… make sure you were… alright…” He looked away, and Roppi slammed him into the wall again.

Fuck you! You really think I want to see you, of all people?!” he spat. “You think you can help?! You’re one of the last people I want to see!”

“I know,” Shintaro said in pained tones, face all scrunched up. He looked at him diffidently, grey eyes sad.

“Sebastian should have taken you,” Roppi growled.

“I know.”

“You would be better off dead!”

“I know.”

Appalled by his compliance, the alternate gritted his teeth and grabbed at Shintaro’s collar again, releasing his shoulders. “I wish you were dead.”

“…”

“You can go ahead and die for all I care!” Roppi was screaming at this point. Shintaro had lapsed into silence. “You’re nothing but a nuisance! I hate it… I hate everything about this! This is your fault! Why didn’t he kill you, huh?! Why didn’t he kill—?!” Roppi’s smoldering eyes were shining with wetness. Shintaro stared right at him, impassive. Ready for anything. Roppi’s grip loosened. “…me?” His voice was barely audible, a mere whisper that had withered like his heart. The tears spilled. “Why didn’t he kill me?” he murmured, brow creased. His tears dripped to the ground softly. Here he collapsed as his world fell in on him, sobs racking his torn body. He didn’t care.

Shintaro knelt there with him and, after hesitating for a moment, put a hand at his back. He felt Roppi shaking and heaving with his grief and despair, finally showing itself without the cold bitterness to mask it.

“I was the one who wanted to die,” he choked out, “so why—?” He couldn’t get any more out, losing himself in the raw emotion that filled him and spilled over onto the sleeves of his jacket.

“I don’t know why,” Shintaro said softly. “I can’t tell you that.”

“…Why did you come after me?” Roppi inquired of him in soft tones. “I… I fucking hate you…”

Shintaro furrowed his brow, giving an awkward kind of smile. “Because I know why you hate me. And even if you say some… uh… sucky things to me, I… still wanted to, you know… help you out.”

“I…” Roppi hesitated. “But… why?”

“Because, Roppi… I believe in you too.” Shintaro drew his lips into a thin line, drawing his hand back again. “I… I know I’m not exactly—good at this, or anything… But—I really wish that you’d… stop crying.”

Roppi stared at him blankly, and Shintaro scratched at the back of his head, eyes averted.

“Because… if you keep crying… I might, too…” The ground shook beneath them, and both of them stiffened. “Um—for now—uh…” Shintaro awkwardly stood upright. “Maybe—it’s best that we start, um… running again.” He paused, then looked away with a nervous smile. “Well… walking really fast.”

Roppi blinked at him, and the ground shook again. He quickly wiped at his eyes, getting to his feet and grabbing at his gun, at his ammo. Shintaro, following his cue, grabbed the medical bag and slung it over his shoulder. “We never—speak of that again,” said Roppi flatly, averting his gaze. “Got it?”

“Huh—?” Shintaro looked at him. “Um… yeah—got it.” He couldn’t help but smile.

With a curt nod, Roppi grabbed at Shintaro’s wrist and pulled him forward, walking briskly further into the shopping district and away from Yato. Even though he had been on his side before, he seemed none too friendly now. With some issues left unresolved, Roppi and Shintaro set them aside for now and continued to look for a safe hiding place.


Hide, Senji, and Rin took shelter in the trees. “Holy shit, he just killed him,” Senji said blankly. “…Fuck.”

“There goes our only ticket for knowing what’s going on,” huffed Rin, shaking her head. They were perched up high in pine trees whose branches cluttered their vision – they could still make each other out among the branches.

“Guys, be ready to jump if we need to; that guy can make craters,” warned Hide.

“Who the hell is he?” Senji growled. “I bet we’d know if we still had Tsukiyama… Man… I didn’t hate him or anything… I kinda wanna kill that bright blue sword-slayer dick dude… I’m really upset right now…”

“You only just met Tsukiyama this morning,” Rin retorted. “There’s no logical reason to be so upset…” …Even though he has a point, she thought. He was annoying, but so suddenly like that, I can’t help but feel kind of terrible…

Hide touched his chin, deep in thought. His eyes shifted downward as he mused aloud. “Tsukiyama mentioned five other groups – if the guy that attacked us fits any description, it’s the god that killed the demon in the last battle. That means he’s more powerful than he acts… or at least he was. I don’t know if this might be his ‘true colors’ or something, but he’s definitely dangerous. I have no idea why he’s so murderous right now, but…”

“…But he is, and so we gotta get the fuck right outta the way,” said Senji matter-of-factly, and the other two nodded.

“Right now the plan is to escape this holy spirit,” said Rin, “however vengeful he may be… Once we’re out of his way, we need a new plan of action.”

“I need to find Kaneki,” Hide said firmly.

“I totally agree,” Senji concurred whole-heartedly.

Hide closed his eyes. “Now that I know he’s in this game… and now that we don’t have someone previously from this game to know how this all goes… Kaneki is the one I know for sure we can turn to, Tohsaka-chan.” He looked at her steadily, and she frowned. “You expressed earlier that you didn’t like alliances, but I think that might even be the point of the game, if I’m right about this. Trust me, alright? Kaneki’s a good guy… Our first priority is to find him. If we do that, then there’s no doubt we can join his group. Tsukiyama was trying to find him too… I’m not so sure about the guy in the jersey, but obviously both of them deserve protecting, judging by Tsukiyama’s actions… Because we only know a little bit about every other group, Group 1’s definitely our best bet.”

“Hm…” Rin closed her light blue eyes, brow furrowed. “…Makes sense. I’m sure you can identify your friend easily, too, so there won’t be any problems with knowing what groups to approach. The problem will be more about finding them in the first place.”

“And that,” said Senji, “is something we can worry about after this god guy isn’t right behind us.” He picked at his wounds, pinching out bullets from the bloody mess. “That other kid’s a fuckin’ asshole, too. I may be a Deadman, but bullets suck. I may be fine ‘n whatever, but shoot me right home and I’m a goner. Right in the head? Dead. Man, I think he broke my sternum, what the fuck…” He paused, then began to snicker.

“What’s so funny about breaking your sternum?” hissed Rin.

“It’s—I really like that kid. Yeah, the other guy’s a god – he’s supposed to be strong, y’know? I’m pretty sure the machine gun kid was just a human, but he was impressive. I really like that! He almost fucking killed me, so yeah, he’s my favorite so far!”

“That’s one way to look at life,” grinned Hide.

“Oh, jeez,” sighed Rin. “For now, let’s just worry about this god…”

Yato watched Shintaro and Roppi run off together, machine gun, ammo, and medical bag in tow. Ah, Roppi… He looks like Izaya. His mouth twitched. After they were over the crest of the hill, his bright-blue gaze shifted to the fallen Tsukiyama.

What are you thinking about?” Nora inquired curiously.

“The Gourmet…,” he said aloud. His eyes were flat, void of emotion as he looked at Tsukiyama’s body. “…I never did get to pay him back for my stomach wound until right now.”

“Ah, he’s the one that injured you, Yato? I’m glad he’s dead…”

Yato grunted indifferently. Yeah, but that wound was nothing in comparison to the real loss here… He bowed his head, tightening his grip on the wooden hilt of his sword. He saw a replay of Yukine’s death. Who was to blame? Yoh Takami… Kuroha, of course… Both dead. The Gourmet – guilty by association? I’ve killed him. There is, Izaya…

Thinking on this, his anger swelled within him. Izaya and Celty, the murderers of the two most important people in his life. Yukine; Hiyori…

The rage burst and he swung Nora into the ground, slicing the earth and uprooting hundreds of trees before him, all in a straight line. “Don’t mess with me!” he screamed, jumping into the air. Izaya was laughing at him. So was Kuroha. So was his own father. He came back down on the remainder of Group 5.

“Run! Run!” cried out Rin as the three of them made a break for it through the trees.

Senji turned on Yato with blades not red, but black growing from his arms. “Invisible Black,” he said, and struck at the god faster than the speed of sound.

Yato was grazed on the first swing and was quite impressed. Well—in his current state he was more annoyed than impressed. The second arm blade he blocked, and then the god was gone, reappearing moments later behind the Deadman. “Run faster,” he said coldly. “I don’t intend to kill you yet.”

Senji paused and, glancing at his teammates, he began to run after them full-speed. Yato didn’t even look at them again. The three ran off to the northwest in search of refuge, Senji disappointed with the failure of his ‘save yourselves, I’ll hold them back’ idea.

Nora reverted to her human form once they were long gone. “He hurt you,” she said in concern, and Yato waved her off.

“It’s nothing.”

Nora tilted her head at him, then took one of the thin sleeves tied around her palm and untied it with her teeth. “Here, let me bandage it.”

“I don’t need that,” he said, beginning to walk off in his intended direction back towards where the west boundary was.

Nora paused, blinking. She ripped off a piece of the fabric and clutched it in her hand to remind herself to tend to it later, when the sun was down and they were no longer on the move. Then she trotted after her master to catch up, grasping his hand and squeezing once she had. “You spared the other three,” she commented.

“I don’t want to kill everyone at once yet.” He paused. “And keep in mind, Hiiro… This is my choice. I’m not doing this because you want me to, or because Father wants me to… or anything like that.”

“Okay,” she said easily.

“When we make it out… I want nothing to do with him.”

“I don’t think that will work,” she said honestly, “and also, I’m not so sure we’ll make it out. Not because of surviving, but because this game is very strange.”

He looked at her with slight annoyance, then drew his lips into a thin line before averting his gaze, returning her gesture and holding her hand in turn. “Let’s just—keep going, then.”

“Sounds good to me,” she smiled.

 

Chapter 37: Self

Chapter Text

 

Shintaro and Roppi took shelter in one of the shops deeper in the district, soon after coming across some empty snack packages and splashes of red paint on the road. After they’d caught their breath, it was Shintaro who spoke. “Your side… is hurt. We should patch it up,” he said, and Roppi made a vague sound of neither agreement nor disagreement. “You’re…gonna have to give me more than that,” Shintaro sighed. “I’m sure there’s gauze in here, anyway…,” he grumbled, opening Tsuki’s satchel and rummaging through it to try and find something. Roppi tensed at the violation, even though he knew it was just a medical bag… One that belonged to a dead man, but still.

“I can figure that out later,” Roppi said flatly. “By myself.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not gonna just leave you behind – there’s no way I’m turning my back and walking away,” Shintaro said firmly. “It’s not like I haven’t done it to someone before… it was one of the greatest mistakes of my life, okay? You can go ahead and think I don’t care, but you’re my friend, Roppi. Clear?”

Roppi’s mouth twitched. “As mud.”

Shintaro sighed heavily. “If… if you want to get rid of me, you’re either going to have to kill me or run away again. But… if you pull the second one…” Shintaro’s grip tightened on the medical bag. His expression was stony, his eyes portraying his conflict. “…You… can’t take this with you. I know that you have every right to have it… for lots of reasons. And I don’t want you to get hurt and then be unable to take care of yourself… But…” Shintaro lowered his head. “There’s someone back with our group… who really needs this medical bag… They might not—they might not make it if the others can’t use this to help her.”

‘Her’? “Who is it, the Ayano girl?” Roppi sneered, and Shintaro looked at him with flat grey eyes.

“Ayano died in the other game,” Shintaro informed him, tone hollow. “She… along with—Ene, and Kido… And Konoha, is…also—” He stopped speaking. He couldn’t anymore, or he’d break his composure.

Roppi, with nothing to offer in comfort and nothing to retort with, merely averted his eyes and was silent.

“…Can I try and wrap up your wounds? They look kinda nasty…,” the hikkiNEET tried again, and Roppi shifted, wrapping his arms around himself. “Yeah, yeah, I know. You’d have to take off your jacket and your shirt. It’s just a chest – seriously, I don’t like being bare either—eek…” He squirmed at the thought. “…But this is more important anyway, and if there’s anyone you shouldn’t have to worry about, it’s me. I really, seriously couldn’t care less.”

Roppi clicked his tongue irately. He knew it was inevitable unless he wanted those wounds to open up again. Worst-case scenario, it’d cause him to bleed out. After surviving that fight, he considered that a very stupid way to die. With this, he began removing his torn jacket. “You’d better damn well not make any comment about anything you see.”

“I won’t!” Shintaro cried. “I just said I wouldn’t – come on!”

“Yeah, well fucking swear,” Roppi growled. “I don’t need anyone’s bullshit, including your own.”

“I swear; I swear! Hurry up, then, jeez!” Shintaro grumpily unraveled the gauze for wrapping. “Faster you go, the faster it’s over.”

“Make this quick.”

“I’ll try, okay?”

“You generally suck at agility… dexterity…”

“Oh come on!” Shintaro wailed. “Do you want your side bandaged or not?!”

“What if I said I didn’t?” Roppi answered, eyebrows shooting up.

Shintaro blinked. “Then—then I’d have to try and tend to you anyway?” he tried. “I don’t know what I’d do! I just know that it’s very important for you to see to those wounds, in fact they also need to be disinfected with this liquid here because we don’t want the risk for infection along with the easy fact that they’re going to reopen even if you manage to get them to heal shut in the time between now and when you next fight somebody, but I guess—”

“Quit it with the frantic run-on.” Roppi rolled his eyes. “I do need them shut. It’d be smart to stitch them up but…” He shrugged. “…You know, you get what you get. Just—be fast.” Quickly deciding that he wanted it all done, he slipped off his shirt. He immediately crossed his arms, irritable but self-conscious of all the scars that self-harm had left him. The cuts ranged in color from pale old to the fresher shades of perhaps a week ago.

Shintaro, taken aback, just looked at him for a moment, blinking a few times. The wounds ran up his arms as well as down his sides. They were punctuated with the angry slash marks from Tsukiyama and Senji.

“Don’t fucking stare. Patch up my side,” Roppi demanded, tone biting.

“Ah…”

“What? Don’t fucking wonder about it…” Shintaro was silent. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. I’m a self-loathing, weak, pathetic human. Patch up my fucking side.”

“No, no… That’s not it,” Shintaro refused, shaking his head.

Roppi glared at him. “Then what is?”

Shintaro hesitated, then slowly rolled up the sleeves of his jersey. “It’s been some time now… They’re barely there anymore… but that might be because I’m really pale…being a shut-in and all… Even if I were to keep my sleeves up, they wouldn’t be noticed anymore.” He smiled slightly. “I’m kind of glad… even I don’t really see them, at this point. It’s fine, Roppi… Not a good thing, but I understand…”

Roppi stared at the faded, barely-discernable scars of the hikkiNEET for a few seconds before looking at Shintaro in the face. The red-jerseyed one only gave him an awkward smile and rolled down his sleeves. Wordlessly, Roppi turned away and put his hands behind his head. “Hurry up,” he said quietly. What else was there to say?

“It’s strange – we’re really different, sure…,” said Shintaro as he spritzed the wound with something from the medical bag.

Roppi tensed. It stung. “You sure you’re doing the right thing?”

“Yes, on the instructions it states—”

“No jargon. Just keep going,” Roppi grunted.

“…You and I are also very alike,” Shintaro continued, dabbing at the wound with a towel to try and wipe any dirt from it. “There are certain aspects that are obvious. You could point those out easily… and I’m coming to find that there’s even more that’s the same, especially with the current situation… The way you handle things; maybe it’s a little bit different. You are pushing everyone away like I do, but instead of shutting yourself in, you’re acting out – it’s you against everyone, you know? I mean… I’m sure you’ve wanted to shut in at some point, but…”

“What’s your point?” Roppi cut in.

“My point… is that we’re pretty similar after all. And I think that’s why you hate me so much, and why you annoyed me so bad at first. But at the same time, I’m coming to respect you, and… well, I’m wondering if maybe when I learn to like you, and if you can learn to like me, we can learn to like ourselves… if that makes sense.”

Roppi scoffed. “Right.”

“Oh, come on,” Shintaro frowned. “I’m really trying, here.” He began wrapping the wound, slipping up and scraping at the gashes with the bandages. Both of them stiffened. “S-sorry!” Shintaro yelped.

“Fuck you!” Roppi hissed. “Do it right, clumsy ass!”

“I-I-I didn’t mean—I didn’t mean—I mean—I was trying—I’m not used to—” He was fumbling with the bandages, trying to set them right again before attempting once more at bandaging him up. “S—sorry, I…”

“It’s fine.” Roppi was gazing far off. This fumbling, stuttering nature reminded him far too much of Tsuki. He couldn’t remain all too angry. Yet, this guy was obviously jaded too… he had his own scars, he wasn’t all that great a person either. Shintaro was another disgusting human, just like himself, so… Roppi frowned irately. This wasn’t making much sense. How could Shintaro be like himself, but also remind him of Tsuki? Now that was screwed up… There was no way. It made no sense.

“Is… is that good?” Shintaro asked nervously. “Is that too tight? Too loose?”

“It’s fine,” said Roppi dismissively, and Shintaro nodded quickly and tied it off.

“Will you come with me back to our group?” Shintaro asked of him as he pulled his shirt back on. “I know you might not want to, but I would very much like… if you were with us instead of off somewhere else. I…want to see to it that you’re okay.” He smiled a pained smile. “I want to make sure at least you live.”

Roppi frowned. “You have Seidou to take care of.”

“Seidou?” Shintaro repeated, perplexed. “I mean, yeah, but he’s also our leader. Shirazu and Kaneki can handle themselves alright, too, but I… I dunno, you’re my friend.” He seemed more and more unsure of his words as he spoke.

Roppi laughed drily. “And they’re not ‘friends’?”

“I—that’s not what I mean, but—but there’s more to it than what I’m saying!” Shintaro argued. “I just—can’t word it right—at all. Um. But I’m trying to help—I know—I know you don’t want me to, but—but we should all stick together and—and—”

“Fine,” Roppi said, closing his eyes.

“…Huh? Wait, really?” Shintaro blinked. “You’re…coming back with me? Just like that?”

“Don’t expect me to be so easy-going,” Roppi scoffed. “Keep in mind I still have all my own goals to accomplish… and if I can’t reach them in our group, then I won’t stay there. If there’s anyone I want to kill for sure, it’s Izaya Orihara.”

“Izaya?” Shintaro leaned back, uncomfortable. “But… we had an alliance… with his…”

“Yeah, and the Yato god or whatever seemed so fucking friendly just now,” Roppi shot back, and Shintaro slumped, drawing his lips together. “Besides, Izaya’s the one who came up with the plan that got Tsuki… Psyche… Shizuo… Yukine… It got all of them killed. That’s on him. He’s a manipulative bastard, and Seidou and Kaneki recognized that, even when we made the alliance. There’s no way I’m dealing with any more of his bullshit. I’m killing him, and that’s that.”

“I…” Shintaro worriedly quirked an eyebrow. “Well, I can’t stop you, but… eh.” He shrugged. “Whatever… but you’ll—you’ll head back with me? Because—”

Roppi held up a hand. “Shh.”

“…What?”

“Be quiet.” The red-eyed one shushed the other and crept to the glass door, crouching silently and peering out onto the street.

“Wh…what is it?” asked Shintaro, coming up behind him. Roppi went back towards their things, shoving past the other. Shintaro staggered slightly, surprised. “Uh—hey—”

“It’s Izaya’s group,” said Roppi simply. His tone had gone cold.

You’ve gotta be kidding me. He hung his head. By now Shintaro could make out the vague sounds of people talking. He furrowed his brow. Really? Of course, now Izaya comes along… How inconvenient… He brought his hand to his face. Not to mention… how come we’re seeing all kinds of groups, all at once? Why does everyone have to be this close together…? Shintaro sighed heavily.

“You stay here,” Roppi ordered, machine gun in hand. “I’m killing them.”

“Wait, what?” Shintaro grabbed his arm. “Wait, right now? Seriously?”

“Stay here,” Roppi repeated, and pulled away. “I’m going to make this one fair and everything. Just stay back.”

Shintaro opened his mouth, then closed it again, watching as Roppi opened the glass doors and went out into the street.

Izaya’s group, having heard the commotion of Roppi’s fight with Group 5, had turned back around in their quest northward to see what was going on. “So we’ll be finding some other groups?” asked Twelve. “Sounds exciting.”

[I wonder why they were fighting. Violent group?] inquired Celty.

“Violent, hah?” Izaya mused. “I’d have to say there are certainly a few options…”

“Judging by the sound, whoever’s involved had a machine gun,” commented Akise.

“Machine guns… are fun,” added Suzuya. “Fun.”

“They’re less fun if you’re being shot at,” Akise pointed out, and Izaya laughed a bit.

“It seems we’re already near where I set off my balloon,” sighed Twelve, looking at the sky after having noticed the paint on the ground ahead. The balloon was a small structure harder to see now, as it had drifted northward. “Just a big circle we’ve gone in, huh? …Well, an ellipse, at least. Hm?”

The five of them stopped in the street as Roppi walked out of one of the shop buildings, machine gun in hand. Celty was most perplexed about his appearance. [Izaya, he looks like you. What’s this about?]

“I dunno, it’s pretty confusing,” Izaya waved her off. “But he does hate me. A bitter kid, I’d say.”

Roppi clicked his tongue in irritation. They’d been warned, right? Now he’d shoot. He glanced back at the shop, where Shintaro was peering from behind the glass, grey eyes horrified and filled with anxiety.

“Hey, Roppi!” Izaya called, holding his hands up in a show of peace. Yoh’s sword was still in hand, raised into the air. “I don’t know about you, but I’d like to lay down arms and come to peace… I know you’re angry with me, I’ll go on and say it. But…”

“I’m not listening to your shit,” Roppi said flatly. He shifted his stance and pointed his gun in an instant, and suddenly Twelve had a grenade at the ready and both Celty and Suzuya had their scythes in hand. The gun was pointed at Izaya. Everything was slow motion. Izaya smirked. So did Roppi.

Akise brought his hand to Izaya’s chest, shoving him backwards even as the informant began lowering Yoh’s blade to block the gunshots. “Izaya,” said the boy detective, “it’s all you.” He smiled at him with warm rose-red eyes before running in front of him whilst pushing him back, then spreading his arms open and smiling as he took the blunt of the gunshots, directly to the chest. Roppi stopped firing, raising the gun with narrowed eyes and taking a step backwards. Akise staggered and collapsed. Izaya stared, wide-eyed, at the display.

“Look out, kid,” Twelve said, tossing the grenade into the air.

Roppi stopped, looking up in perplexity. He tensed in recognition – A bomb?! He began dodging to the left, but the explosion came sooner than he had expected, detonating mid-air and leaving Roppi in a cloud of smoke and confusion. It was Suzuya that burst from the smoke, scythe swinging down as he laughed at Roppi and attacked – Roppi was clipped on the leg as he jumped backwards, then succeeded in dodging the second swing, but this kid was fast. Holy shit… this guy is—

Roppi dropped the gun in his struggle to continue dodging. “Weapon weighing you down?” Suzuya giggled, swiping the blade at him again and again. “Let’s see, let’s see…! I want to see, your insides,” the white-haired one grinned at him, and Roppi gave a tsk as he backtracked away from him.

I need to make it to Izaya. That’s it. Even if this new guy kills me from behind, I… I only want to kill Izaya! Roppi ran forward, right into Suzuya’s attacks.

“Ah—?” The CCG officer backed up, keeping Roppi in the proper range to swing at him. “Oo, not too bad!” he laughed, increasing his barrage and clipping Roppi on the shoulder.

With surprise, Roppi immediately noticed he had no feeling in his left arm. It dangled limply at his side as though it were the arm of a dummy rather than his own appendage of flesh and blood. A nerve… on purpose? This guy’s insane…! And his aim… Roppi gritted his teeth. …His aim is perfect.

Celty watched as Suzuya continued swinging, mad but precise, at their opponent. It seemed he was doing fine on his own, but still… Twelve was creeping around on the left, circling the battle in investigation, it seemed, of the shop Roppi had exited from. Shintaro, staring from the window, was too wrapped up in staring in shock at the fallen Akise, his blood staining the street red. Celty, too, was horrified on the whole ordeal.

Izaya, on the other hand, gazed with wide red-brown eyes at Akise, lying on the asphalt beneath his feet. What had gotten into people lately? Jumping in front of him and taking bullets, and all… Who was next? A foolish thing for Akise to do. A foolish thing for, Shizuo to do…

What did it mean? “Izaya, it’s up to you,” Akise had said. “Even if I hate you, you’re still human,” Shizuo had said. What did that say, huh? How ridiculous! Humans, yes, Shizuo, even Shizuo was so, so, so interesting!

Izaya’s mouth twitched as he stared at Akise, ears ringing. Up to me, huh? He began to laugh, wielding the sword in preparation. “Celty-san, could you take care of Suzu-chan for me?” he inquired in an overly sweet tone. “He’s in my way.”

[What about Akise? Didn’t his death mean anything to you?]

Izaya didn’t even look at the screen. “Oi, Suzu-chan, leave some for me~ I can take care of him myself, don’t you worry!”

“Aw, but…” Suzuya seemed very disappointed. “He’s a fun one, he doesn’t… die fast, even though…” Suzuya looked at Roppi with wide, empty eyes.

Roppi looked at him angrily. I’m just a toy to him, huh…? Pisses me off.

“Fine,” Suzuya grinned, and slammed the blunt side of the scythe into Roppi’s back, sending him flying forward like a baseball hit with a baseball bat. “Go, go!” he laughed heartily.

Roppi’s feet skidded on the ground until he lurched to a stop, trying to keep his balance. His breathing was heavy but shallow – he’d had the wind knocked out of him. Not enough air—!

“Think fast,” Izaya smiled. He tossed his switchblade to Roppi, and he caught it swiftly with his single functioning arm. “It’s between you and I, right? Now you’re not unarmed. Shall we?” Without another word, he attacked. Struggling for air, Roppi had been thrust back into battle. His head was a whirlwind of thought – he was barely caught up with what was going on around him; it was all happening so fast. At least this time he was fighting the man he wanted to hurt most. He saw only red – this was Izaya, his creator… the man whose bitterness he personified. The man who tormented him from the beginning of his time. The man whom he hated, down to the rotten core of his existence.

Izaya saw things differently. There was no sound registering in his ears – all things around him were distinctly vivid. Sharp. Clear. He was hyperaware of Roppi and his actions, of the asphalt beneath their feet, the air stirred gently by the breeze, of his own body as he fought with Roppi in an increasingly skilled manner. His senses were exactly as his knife, and his tongue was ready to cut Roppi just the same: his words were his most powerful weapon, after all. Everything felt a little bit colder than it had before – he felt as though a dark void had swallowed his insides, quite pleasantly, in fact. It was as though the night sky had been born within him, and its clarity swept over Izaya in all its entirety.

Twelve, in the background, had reached the store, opening the door and slipping inside as he immediately shoved his hand over Shintaro’s mouth. The hikkiNEET, quite astonished, struggled and squirmed with weak resistance. Twelve blinked at him as he tried to cry out. “You’re not very strong, are you?” he inquired, tilting his head.

“Mmph.” Shintaro seemed to frown at him, grey eyes annoyed.

“Still,” Twelve smiled happily, “your muffled noises are a muted red. Pretty. Lots of reds around here. Not that that surprises me. Lots of people are red.” Shintaro’s brow was furrowed in befuddlement. “Anyway, I’m not here to hurt you. Just don’t make any noise, or run away.” He began to remove his hand, but as Shintaro took a huge intake of air, Twelve clamped it back on his mouth and nose, causing Shintaro’s breath to suction it there. Shintaro froze as Twelve seemed to look straight into his soul. “Ah, but first… I’ll say it now.” His pale brown eyes, alight with warmth, went suddenly dark as they narrowed, piercing and cruel in an instant. “If you even try to do either of those things… I’ll kill you.” His tone, too, had changed drastically. Shintaro’s blood ran cold. He was too terrified to do anything anyway once Twelve did remove his hand from his face. Eventually Shintaro remembered breathing was important.

“So!” said Twelve brightly, trotting further into the store. “What kinda things do ya like to snack on? Looks like this’ll be an interesting fight – might as well bring popcorn or something.” He looked at Shintaro. “Ya want soda? I know I do.”

Shintaro nodded dumbly.

“Sweet! Cola it is,” Twelve beamed, prancing to the soda isle. “Say, follow along with me, okay?”

Shintaro quickly got to his feet, nervously glancing back out the doors before timidly following after him. His heart was pounding in his ears.

“Say, wanna see something cool?”

Shintaro blinked, turning the corner to find the strange brunette juggling three cans in the air. He opened his mouth, then closed it. He didn’t know whether he could talk. He admittedly was very happy to find many Coca-Cola products in the isle they were in, but even though he wanted to revel in the glory of the holy drink, now didn’t seem to be the best time to enjoy such pleasures.

“You can talk to me,” Twelve added. “Just don’t scream.”

“…Um—”

“So you wanna see something cool?” He caught the three cans, two in one hand, one in the other. “It’s a fun drink mix.” Shintaro blinked, dumbfounded. Twelve then proceeded to set down two of the drinks, opening the third – a red can of Coca-Cola as was coincidentally Shintaro’s favorite thing ever – with the top pointed at Shintaro. At the click of the top being opened, the soda sprayed out directly into Shintaro’s face. The hikkiNEET let out a yelp, then put his hands over his own mouth in fear for having made such a loud noise. Twelve was laughing wildly.

“Hey…!”

“Hey,” Twelve grinned, then opened another only to have it spray onto his ‘Double Open Heart’ t-shirt. “See? Even. This is a fun one,” he grinned, pouring some of it into the Cola can before opening the third, non-carbonated drink and mixing them all together. “Green tea raspberry cola!” Twelve declared, and handed Shintaro the concoction. Shintaro confusedly took it, looking increasingly bothered. “It’s all yours! Though, I’ve never actually tried it, so you’ll have to let me know how it tastes.”

As Twelve smiled a feline-esque smile at him in anticipation, Shintaro cautiously took a sip, then choked on the liquid. Paused. …It’s actually not that bad. Ah, I miss… soda. He took another sip. May soda be eternal.

“Good?”

“I guess,” Shintaro mumbled. He looked at him with a deep frown. “Hh… who the hell are you, anyway?”

“I’m Twelve! Don’t worry, I’m just a friendly terrorist in town.”

Shintaro choked on his drink again. Come to think of it, he thought as he continued to cough, the first thing that happened to me when I went out for the first time in two years… is I got held hostage by terrorists. Why should this even surprise me? Especially given the situation I’m already in… Twelve patted him on the back to help him out, and once he was fine again, he sighed heavily. “What bad luck I’ve got…”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Twelve said good-naturedly. “So what’s your name? Otherwise I’ll just have to call you Hostage-san.”

“Um… Shintaro… Ki—Kisaragi.” Shintaro swallowed. So I’m acting as his hostage after all, huh…

“Shintaro-kun! Sounds great. Well, how good do you feel about being my hostage?”

“Eh—?” What kind of question was that?

“That fight’s going to turn even more bloody than it already is – here, come on.” He grabbed Shintaro’s wrist and pulled him along back to the front of the store. He pointed out to the fight scene continuing before them, with Suzuya’s figure staring blankly at the events unfolding and Celty standing tensely a bit behind the limp body that was Akise. Izaya and Roppi were facing off with one another. Twelve gave a low whistle. “Impressive, aren’t they? Now, Shintaro-kun, I ask you this…” Shintaro looked at him, but the supposed terrorist merely looked on. “…What’s wrong with the picture in front of you?”

“…Huh?”

Shintaro waited, but Twelve gave no response. The red-jerseyed boy, wiping cola from his face with his sleeves in irritation, looked again at the scene before him. At first, nothing was wrong. Then he stiffened in recognition.

“You see it,” Twelve smiled, pleased.

Shintaro trembled. He needed… he needed to warn Roppi… On cue, Twelve’s hand went to Shintaro’s shoulder as a reminder. He froze under his hand, completely powerless.

Roppi and Izaya faced off with words like knives, switchblade versus sword. Roppi had already decided that he wouldn’t let Izaya get the best of him… not this time. “Come now,” Izaya sneered, “why are you fighting so hard? Don’t you want to die?”

“Only if I’m taking you down with me,” Roppi responded in kind. Both of their voices were oozing with sweet bitterness. “You have too much blood on your hands – I’m just judging you for exactly who you are: a killer!”

Suzuya picked at the threads sewn into his lower lip. “A killer, huh…” He watched with vague interest. Celty stood back, scythe at the ready in case she felt that she needed to jump in. Where had Twelve gone? She’d been too engrossed in the battle to notice…

“Oh, I understand, Roppi-san,” Izaya grinned. “You do want to die, but on your own terms. Right?~”

“Did you want Shizuo to die?” Roppi shot back. Their blades clashed. “I bet you feel guilty about it. Or are you too numb to even care? Have you buried yourself so deep that you don’t even give a shit when someone gives their life for you?”

“Not that you would know,” Izaya taunted right back. “No one would die for you now, would they?”

“As if Shizuo did it because he liked you,” Roppi scoffed. “He knew just as well as I do that the world would be better off without you!”

“You predictable human, saying you’re comfortable even as you fall to despair – you love remaining in your own wasteland, don’t you?”

“I’m only a product of you, Izaya. As if you’re so much better – claiming you’re satisfied even though you’re empty inside!”

“Empty?” Izaya laughed. “Hardly! I’m filled to the brim with love for the humans around me!”

“You call that ‘love’? When you torment them, toy with them the way you do? When you laugh as they kill themselves before your very eyes? How disgusting is that? Izaya… you’re the worst human I know.”

“Hoh?” Izaya’s eyes widened in cold glee, his smile twisting. “Roppi-san, could you really call me a human? Could you really say that? When I know I’m the monster, here.”

Roppi released a bark of laughter. “You actually admit it!”

Celty looked on. Should I feel proud of Izaya …? she wondered. …Or should I feel frightened?

The blades clashed.

Would I actually kill this person named Roppi? thought Izaya. He who I apparently created… an alternate self – well, no, I don’t think I would. I never kill anyone on my own.

All I need is to catch him off-guard, thought Roppi. I know he has the same style as me, and he knows I have the same style as him – we’re both pretty even, but he is faster than I am… Plus, I have to compensate because he has a sword and I have a fucking knife. Either way… no matter what it takes, I’m going to kill him.

What am I to him, I wonder? thought the informant. His accusations…

He killed Shizuo already. Yukine. Everyone who died in that fight was on his hands. All of the people who jumped because of him, yeah, every indirect kill he’s caused is still his fault. Can you feel the blood on your hands? Or are you too numb? Too blind?

…Such things are just silly. It was pure choice. Humans were gifted with free will – I only make suggestions. Even saying something like Shizuo, well, it was his choice to jump in front of me, wasn’t it? Wasn’t it Akise who decided to save me just now? I didn’t even expect either of them to do it!

You’re guilty, Izaya.

It’s not my fault.

For those lives in this game you’ve caused, for all the lives you’ve taken in your realm…

I am an innocent.

Even if you don’t kill them with your own hands, it’s still your doing…!

You can’t blame me.

Roppi saw only red. “Die, damn it! Don’t you dare try to feed me your bullshit, try and say what’s wrong with me when you can’t see all the fucked up things you’ve done! Don’t try and mess with others when you can’t even see how messed up you are. Go on like this; I could care less! Go ahead and say you love everyone, but no one’s going to love you in the end because you are nothing but a sociopathic, manipulative bastard that only causes problems. Do you hear me?”

“Is that so?” Izaya began to laugh. “Don’t you worry, Roppi-san – your concern touches me to my very core! I know that one day, with how much I love, love, love them all, they’ll one day love me in return!” He laughed again, slashing at Roppi and making him back up.

The younger staggered, stumbling at something behind him. That stupid kid’s body—? He clicked his tongue in annoyance and tried to jump over him, but he was stuck – something had grabbed ahold of his ankle. Surprised and horrified, Roppi looked down to see Akise smiling at him.

“Surprise,” the boy said calmly, and knocked Roppi off his feet, sending him crashing to the ground with his shoulder taking the blunt of the impact. He gasped as his body connected with the asphalt.

Izaya was on him in an instant; Yoh’s sword was plunged into his left hand. Roppi laughed wearily, mirthlessly. “I can’t feel that arm anyway, dumbass.”

“I could kindly get rid of both of your hands, if you wish.” Izaya sneered, and Roppi spat at him.

Izaya frowned. Without looking at the boy detective, he addressed Akise as the silver-haired one stood up and brushed himself off. “Akise-kun, you’re alive after all,” the informant said drily, taking his switchblade back as he spoke. He remained kneeling with each leg on either side of Roppi’s torso. “How’d you manage that?”

Akise gave a wry smile in answer, touching his chest. “What kind of detective would I be if I didn’t come prepared?” he asked.

“A bulletproof vest, I presume?”

“That’s right,” Akise confirmed. He looked at Celty, who was shocked beyond belief and pointing at him in a mix of anger, relief, and confusion. “Sorry about that, Celty-san. It wouldn’t be so convincing if you all knew I was still alive. The main goal was to trip Roppi-san up when he got close enough.”

She crossed her arms, turning her helmet away from him. She seemed upset.

“Really, Celty-san… I’ll try and make it up to you somehow. I’ll figure out a way,” Akise smiled warmly. A puff of darkness came from the bottom of her helmet.

“Huh… Akise is, alive, huh?” inquired Suzuya, tilting his head. “…Cool.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Akise sighed, quirking an eyebrow.

“I’m not done yet,” Roppi growled. “I’m going to kill you.”

“You’re not really in the position to do so,” Izaya commented. “What will you do?”

Roppi jerked his head upwards, but Izaya responded in quickly twisting Roppi’s good arm to the side. The younger hissed in pain, eyes burning in rage.

“Maybe we’ll tie you up and leave you here,” Izaya smiled a closed-eye smile. “You see, I’m no killer.”

This only elevated Roppi’s outrage. He began struggling with all of his energy, desperate to at least harm him better than he had during their fight.

“Wait!” called out Twelve’s voice as the terrorist waved his arms to capture everyone’s attention. The five of them turned to look at Twelve, who was gripping the back of Shintaro’s jersey. “Roppi-kun, I found this guy in the shop. He’s my hostage now, see,” he beamed. “So if you want him to make it out alive, well, you’re gonna have to give up for now. Walk away peacefully, and he’ll live. Keep fighting, and he dies here. It shouldn’t be too tough a choice, but revenge is always tempting. If it’s really justice, well, it’s not like you’ll never have another chance to get back at us.” He grinned. “Admit it! You lost.”

“Tch…” Roppi glared at Twelve while Izaya laughed atop him. He looked at Shintaro, who had averted his gaze in shame. Conflict roared in his consciousness like a static energy that left him feeling helpless and agitated. Shintaro… I can’t—let him die… He looked at Izaya coldly, his tenseness ceased. “…Fine.” I’ll have my chance to kill you. I swear it.

“Hoh, he cares! I’m very glad, actually,” Izaya grinned, getting to his feet. Akise offered a hand to help Roppi up, but he ignored him and got up alone.

“What you’ll do,” said Twelve, “is you’ll gather all of your things, and we will watch you go. We won’t leave or turn away until you are out of sight. Wouldn’t want you shooting all of us while we weren’t looking. You can have someone walk backwards if you’re really so concerned about us being dishonest, but… well, the fastest thing we got is Suzuya here.” He jerked his thumb at the CCG officer, and the albino giggled. “Granted, he’s pretty fast. So’s Celty, but she’s super peaceful. Well?”

Roppi felt patronized as he slowly gathered up the machine gun, and his ammo – Shintaro still had the medical bag. He considered just turning on them and shooting Izaya anyway, but Twelve eyed him with a look that told him he was serious about killing Shintaro if he tried anything. How stupid. How pathetic. How anti-climactic. All of the negative emotions were swelling within him until—

There was a strange ticking sort of buzz, and then Twelve had collapsed on the ground. In a panic, Shintaro ran for Roppi, grabbed his wrist and yanked him eastward. “The fuck did you just do?!” Roppi demanded as they ran.

“I—I remembered I had a stun gun,” Shintaro answered, and Roppi sighed heavily, running along with him.

 

Chapter 38: Alike

Chapter Text

 

Shinichi and Ciel had heard the gunshots from Roppi’s battle with Group 5 quite some time ago. Before that Shinichi had plucked out two bullets from his flesh, dropping them to the grass with a sigh while Ciel sat on a rock and glared at the ground silently. At that time, it was still silent all around, and there wasn’t anything to say. Shinichi assessed his damage: he was shot in the side and in the shoulder. His left ear stung – when he felt it, he discovered he didn’t have much of an ear left there. All in all, it wasn’t so bad… He took off his jacket and laid it on the ground, beginning to slowly rip up three strips from it to use as bandages.

“…How badly were you hurt?” asked Ciel. It was a guarded and tentative question.

Shinichi blinked at him, then smiled slightly before returning to his task. “It’ll be fine. I just need to make sure they’re patched up so that I don’t bleed excessively.”

Ciel nodded slightly, and they lapsed back into silence. Shinichi wrapped up his side and his head and was currently figuring how to properly wrap his shoulder when Ciel spoke up again. “Actually…” the earl admitted, “…I admire your strength.”

Shinichi eyed him in pleasant surprise.

“Granted, you have your pathetic moments,” Ciel added, and Shinichi quirked an eyebrow at the backhanded insult, “…but after every single one of these, you calm down almost in an instant. The only thing that seems to have truly shaken you is Migi’s death, and even now, it isn’t like you’ve given up. In fact, it’s quite the opposite.” Ciel leaned back against the tree that the rock was situated beside, crossing his arms with a smirk. “There’s one thing that’s worth admiring about humans, you know. Even when you drive them into the pits of hell… if there’s even a spider’s thread holding them up…” Ciel looked Shinichi in the eye. “…They will climb.”

Shinichi looked down, thinking on this. How was he meant to respond? Was he truly human, anyway…? Something like that… could he really take that as a compliment anymore?

“You’re certainly a human, Shinichi,” Ciel seemed to answer his thoughts. “Despite everything I’ve said thus far to you… you are… Well.” He averted his gaze. “…You’ve earned my respect.”

The high school student smiled, touched. “Thank you, Ciel… I’m honored.”

The younger scoffed. “Don’t get too excited – it’s not that big a deal. I just happened to underestimate you… You maintain your composure well, and although you are no genius by any means, you are most certainly no fool, either… And I wish to give you at least that.”

Shinichi’s mouth lopsidedly showed his affection. “…Ciel, hearing these words from you… Well, I can’t help but feel the same way.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah… I mean, you’re kind of…” He rubbed the back of his head. ...I feel like saying ‘spoiled’ here isn’t the best way of putting this… “…Well, you have your pride, I guess. You come from the upper class, where I’m just from the regular old middle class. I get it.” Ciel was nodding. Shinichi was trying to word this very carefully. “But… despite some of the requests or complaints you make that someone like me could find kind of dumb… In the worst of situations, you’ve actually held up very well, at least emotionally. A lot of your views on humanity are pretty harsh… proving that you’ve at least seen a lot…” Shinichi’s eyes gazed into the distance, vaguely sad. “…You’re only thirteen.”

Ciel scoffed, annoyed. “So? What’s that meant to mean?”

“It means… you shouldn’t have to have gone through whatever it is you did. Nobody should, but hell… Selling your soul to a demon and all… it’s just… pretty young to lose your future.”

The younger crossed his arms, frowning deeply. “…I suppose so. But… I had none left to begin with, so there was no great loss.” He closed his eyes. “If it weren’t for him, it’s highly likely I wouldn’t be alive at all.”

Shinichi absorbed this. He didn’t want to pry. Shinichi had gone somewhere else, and his eyes had that detached look to them. “Ciel… do you ever cry?”

Ciel eyed him, brow furrowed. “Pardon me?”

“When Yato killed Sebastian… I heard you scream, but I don’t think you cried. Even in that room we stayed in… even though you seemed so despairing, you hadn’t then, either. In fact, you seemed more emotionless than anything at that time… So, I…”

“I haven’t cried in a long time,” Ciel said simply, his expression dark. “Something like that… no, nothing like that since… that day, and that—is in the past. No. I don’t cry. Not since my parents died.”

Shinichi’s breathing took a pause as he saw the image of his mother in his mind’s eye. Saw her head splitting into four parts. He grabbed at his chest, taking deep breaths before calming down again.

“Something the matter?” Ciel inquired flatly.

“…I understand what you mean,” he answered, thinking on the nights where he’d lie awake wondering why he couldn’t cry anymore. He stopped thinking about his mother in this regard. He couldn’t. But he could remember the burning desire for revenge against her murderer, yes… Shinichi wondered if that was exactly the quest that Ciel had undergone, using Sebastian as the one who would make his desire granted. Suddenly, it all seemed to come together for him. His eyes opened once more, expression flat. “You… have a hole in your heart, too,” Shinichi remarked, voice soft.

The earl scoffed. “What does that even mean?”

“It doesn’t matter.” His mouth twitched. “Just…don’t worry about it…”

His single visible eye narrowed in suspicion. Just as Ciel was about to pry further, they heard the gunshots coming from the south. Ciel’s expression clearly showed his distaste. “Evidently, that fool learned nothing,” he said, referring to Roppi.

Shinichi got to his feet. “Should we help? I might be able to…”

“No.” Ciel crossed his arms. “I’d rather not get involved. He just shot you three times, not to mention he tried to kill me. I won’t have you hunting down whatever groups are involved in this fight just to see if you can help somebody out. A foolish ‘hero’ move like that may even throw everyone off and disturb them all. We could get caught in the crossfire, or perhaps get the ones you try to protect wounded instead.”

“What if… it’s A-ya and Yukiteru?”

Ciel paused, but after a few moments, he sighed. “It’s not them, Shinichi.”

“…How do you know?” he asked, a hint of worry in his tone.

“Roppi may be a fool in what he’s doing right now, but he’s not going to try to kill just anyone. He has targets. He likely wants me dead because of that silly little boy with the scarf and spectacles. If there’s anyone he wouldn’t consider a target, it would be those two. I don’t think that they had any conflicts at all with other groups, save for perhaps Yukiteru with the Gourmet, but they have nothing to do with Roppi.” Ciel smirked.     “A-ya’s admittedly impressive. He interests me. I’d like to know exactly what he’s planning now…”

Shinichi looked at the ground, clenching and unclenching his fists. “If I were A-ya, I… would say that the cycle of revenge we’re following is exactly… exactly what the puppeteers of this game want.”

“Probably,” Ciel shrugged, getting up off of his rock. “Well, what do you say, Shinichi? What is our plan?”

Shinichi merely stood as he thought. What would they do? “…I think we should… stop this game of revenge… Maybe… it’s best if we try to find other groups… like A-ya and Yukiteru. We haven’t seen them since they ran off…” Shinichi recalled the wooden hatch that he’d found in the dusty ground by the factories. “Hm…”

“Well, whatever. So long as we don’t do anything rash. Alright, Shinichi?”

“…Yeah,” he agreed absently, and Ciel sighed heavily at his spacey response.

“Let’s just go,” he mumbled. They proceeded.


He just stunned Twelve, Akise mused blankly, scratching at his cheek. “…Interesting.”

[Is he okay?] inquired Celty, seeming worried. [What just happened? Are those other two gone?]

“Yeah, they’re running off for now,” Izaya confirmed, walking over to Twelve, lying on the pavement.

“That was weird,” commented Suzuya, picking at his lip. “Why do that when we were already done? Did it even hurt Twelve? Don’t think so. So…” He tilted his head. “…Just, annoying.”

Izaya laughed. “I think it was a nice little show to put up right before they made their exit. It didn’t make a lick of difference, but it’s about presentation. Obviously none of us care, so in the end it didn’t matter… but I have to applaud Shintaro-kun’s small efforts.” He chortled a bit. “In fact, I think he only did it because he was panicked.”

“Fear…?” Suzuya tilted his head. “Ah… that’s stupid.”

“Agreed,” Izaya grinned at him, and knelt down beside Twelve along with Akise.

“Are you alright?” asked Akise, his rose orbs expressing some concern.

Twelve gazed at Akise with dazed brown eyes, hazy and unfocused. “…He had a stun gun,” the terrorist commented slowly. “New… experiences…”

“Should I go after them?” asked Suzuya, prancing on over to the clump where everyone else, including Celty, had gathered. “Get rid of them?”

“No,” Akise answered immediately, closing his eyes. Izaya shot him a glance, but let it be. “They’re gone; they’ve been warned. We should try and keep the peace as much as possible. I’m sorry to disappoint you Suzuya-kun, but…” – he smiled slightly – “…the priority for us is to use as little violence as we can.”

Suzuya disappointedly furrowed his brow. “…But if they try to kill us, they’re dead,” he said flatly.

Akise nodded in confirmation. “Of course. But remember, Suzuya… think on the fact that everyone else has a reason for what they’re doing.” He held up a finger. “There could be someone acting out of fear, for example. The first goal is to incapacitate them – that is, keep them in one place, unable to fight,” he elucidated at Suzuya’s perplexed expression at the word ‘incapacitated.’ “After all, you said you didn’t like Izaya-san’s eyes, right?”

“Still don’t,” Suzuya answered bluntly.

“But you’re working together with him. Why?”

Suzuya blinked. “Because… we gotta?”

“You don’t have to, no. Both of you want to make it back to where you’re from, right?”

“I guess so,” the CCG officer shrugged, scratching at his sewn-up arm.

“I’m sure you have your own missions to complete back home, right, Suzuya-kun?”

“I guess so,” he repeated.

“Hm…” Akise thought on this. “…I don’t suppose you’re at all bothered by the fact someone brought you here, with no explanation at all… Take all of us, throw us in a cage and watch us make war. We have no idea who these people are, and they play games with us. It’s not very fair, is it?”

Suzuya’s blank eyes flickered, then went hazy. His expression dropped. He was suddenly dark – the foggy kind of dark that wasn’t quite there. “…No, I guess not,” he answered slowly.

Akise touched his chin – had he hit something on accident? Oh dear…

“So I guess we’re supposed to find these people, right?” Suzuya inquired in that same measured tone. “And they… they want us to fight, right? So it’s almost like… our job to kill everybody else…”

As the officer seemed to be exuding metaphorical darkness, Akise had to cut in again while Izaya hid a smile behind his hands. “No, no, that’s not what I meant at all. See, Suzuya-kun, we have the choice to do as we please – we can disobey these ‘rules.’ They shouldn’t have authority over us, see? We should have every right to make that choice not to kill.”

“It’s not like it hasn’t happened before,” Suzuya answered hollowly, gazing right through him.

Izaya scoffed. “Oh, but where’s your humanity?”

Suddenly Suzuya’s scythe was swinging for Izaya at high speeds – Celty was the one to step in the way and block it. “You’re in the way,” Suzuya said lowly, and she shook her helmet in the negative.

Twelve was blinking dazedly at the scythe over his head.

“Suzuya-kun…,” Akise spoke in a level tone. He had his hands slightly raised in peace. “Surely you understand that you must care for the safety of others, if only a little. Otherwise you would have hurt Celty just now.”

Suzuya paused. “…I only wanna get to Izaya.”

“I’m more in shock about Celty moving to protect me!” Izaya remarked with a laugh. “What’s this about? I’m touched!”

She turned sharply, typing to him, [I’m not going to let you die. You’re still a person, Izaya.]

The informant’s eyes flickered. Hadn’t someone said that to him? His mouth twisted in cold amusement. “Hoh? Is that so? Or are you just trying to protect me in place of Shizu-chan? Since he’s dead and all…”

Celty’s helmet puffed blackness from the bottom, and she began to emanate her less metaphorical (very much literal) darkness. [What are you saying.] She held out the phone in a quick motion, and only left the screen up for a moment to let him read.

“I’m saying that you’re just as selfish as everybody else, Celty-san…” He grinned at her. “If Shizuo were really still around, you’d leave this group and follow along with him, I’m sure.” He shrugged. “And that makes perfect sense to me. But because he’s very much dead, and because you’d rather be with me than alone, I’m your replacement. I’m not anyone you’d really care to protect. No… You and Shizu-chan were partners of the monster kind.”

Now it was her scythe swinging down to decapitate him, but Izaya only smiled and made no move to stop her. She halted the scythe millimeters from his neck, and he remained, calm and impassive with his hands in his pockets.

“You wouldn’t do it, Celty-san,” he said, smile thin. “You’d feel guilty. You can’t kill me, and both of us know it. That’s the same reason you’d also protect me… I’ve told you before, Celty-san: you are pathetic to me only because you are not human in flesh… but you’ve attained all the attributes of a human in your time spent with them. You’re no monster… at least, not anymore. I can’t speak for the times neither of us could know, since you’ve forgotten anyway… No, what kind of monster has a conscience?” He began to snicker. “Yeah, I know it already, Celty-san… Shizuo wouldn’t have killed me either, no matter how unpredictable that temper was… no matter how many times he swore to send me to my grave. You don’t need to tell me anything. I know that neither of you are quite ‘monsters.’”

The scythe dissipated. Here it was again: Izaya was spouting things that didn’t sound very much like him. Confusion blotted her thoughts. She typed slowly. [Izaya, how did Shizuo die?]

“Sebastian Michaelis, a demon, killed him with bullets to the chest,” Izaya answered simply. “A monster laughed.” He smiled. “It was me.”

Celty shifted her stance in discomfort. She began to type a question about Roppi, but it was Akise who spoke again.

“I don’t suppose,” the boy detective began with a piercing gaze, “that those bullets were intended for you, Izaya-san.”

Izaya gazed with eyes that pierced right back into the silver-haired one, and the two stared each other down, countenances cold. Celty looked from one to the other, taking a step back at the building tension. Izaya’s mouth twisted in amusement. “Akise-kun, you’re interesting,” Izaya commented.

“I could say the same about you, Izaya-san,” Akise answered with a sly smirk. “Both of us are observers, after all.”

“But you have better eyes than I-za-ya,” argued Suzuya, and Akise’s expression softened as he turned to the CCG officer, running a hand through his hair.

“Thank you, Suzuya-kun.”

“Wow, guys, so that was fun,” said Twelve as he strained to sit up. Akise helped him for the last foot or so, and the terrorist grinned tiredly in thanks. “I’ve gotta say… super tired right now. Like… exhausted. Now I know… how it feels to be electrocuted, huh?” He laughed weakly. “I could sleep for days…”

“Izzat how it works?” asked Suzuya confusedly.

“Well, you work your muscles using electricity,” Akise explained to Suzuya. “So getting a two-second-or-so jolt from a stun gun is like telling all of your muscles that they just ran a marathon… kind of. It’s supposed to make you weak… I don’t know about tired.”

“I don’t wanna move,” Twelve confirmed. “In fact, I’d rather lay on my back and stare at the sky…” He blinked hazily up at the clouds. “Yeah…” His gaze shifted to Izaya. “So, Izaya, though… I gotta say, that fight with the machine gun kid was real intense.”

Izaya laughed a bit. “Oh yes it was…”

“I noticed that Akise wasn’t bleeding from his chest… though there’s still blood on the street. I knew you were alive, but… are you doin’ alright?”

“Yeah…” Akise touched his shoulder, stained red. “I did get hit in the shoulder, but I think that’s a fair alternative for being shot to death,” he shrugged. “I’ll have to get the bullets out, of course, but that’s a given… Kind of a nuisance but…” He shrugged again. “I have to say,” he smirked, “the look on his face when I surprised him was hilarious.” And he began to laugh, trying to stifle it with his hands.

Suzuya blinked at him.

“Seriously, though, you guys talking… He was making real jabs at you,” remarked the tired Twelve from his place on the ground.

[He kind of reminded me of you, Izaya.] Celty added.

“Well, he looks exactly like me, so…” Izaya shrugged, cocking an eyebrow at her.

[That’s not what I meant.] She paused. [The way he spoke, the kinds of things he said…]

“Oh, yeah…. He sure was a bastard,” he agreed, and burst into laughter.


“Oh god…,” Shintaro wheezed, slowing to a stop.

Roppi glared at him out of the corner of his eye, leaning forward just like the hikkiNEET was, both of them gasping to catch their breath. “Now what.”

“I did something so stupid… Why did I do that? Why?” he moaned, sinking as though about to collapse.

“Stop that,” Roppi snapped. “At least we left on our own terms. It feels less like defeat.”

“But I just ran us into a wide-open field with nowhere to go that has any cover and there’s no way that I’m going back there, Roppi, because those people are terrifying and I know I wouldn’t stand a chance against any of them—!” He took in a huge breath of air. “And I just stunned a really scary terrorist guy for no reason at all and the kid with the scythe is probably gonna come on and kill me now because of it and here we are in the stupidest place to be because he’s gonna find us and the sun is already beginning to set…”

Roppi tuned out of his raving, rolling his eyes. An open field? Yeah, sure it was. But if they made it across, they’d be fine. There was no way to tell whether Izaya’s group would send anyone after them anyway – or whether that Suzuya kid would act on his own and try to kill them. Roppi doubted it, but it was still a pretty good idea to hide. He sighed heavily. Shintaro was still rambling. Shaking his head, Roppi scanned the area ahead. At first, there was nothing to be seen, but a slight discoloration of part of the ground ahead caught his eye.

“…and then we’ll be dead and it’ll be all my fault and all of this will have been for nothing—!”

“Shintaro,” Roppi cut him off.

“…Yeah? Oh—”

Roppi grabbed him by the arm and dragged him towards the discoloration on the dusty ground.

“Wh—what are we—huh?”

Roppi had brushed away the dirt to find some kind of wooden hatch.

“Leading to… underground?”

The other opened it to reveal a hole of which they couldn’t see the bottom of. There was a ladder of rusty metal rungs on one side – the side opposite of where the hatch door was hinged.

“Ohh, that’s creepy…,” Shintaro mumbled, shifting uncomfortably.

“You want a hiding place?” Roppi asked bluntly. “Get in.”

“…” Shintaro looked, unsure, into the abyss, then back at Roppi. “…But—”

“Just get in,” Roppi said irately, giving an annoyed nudge with his elbow. “Hurry the hell up.”

“O-okay, okay!” Shintaro said quickly.

“Ah—wait.”

Shintaro looked at him exasperatedly, kneeling on all fours. “…What?” he asked weakly.

“One of my arms is dead,” he said, nodding at his left arm. He gripped his machine gun tighter, cradled in his right. “…Could you help me makeshift a strap for this thing… so I don’t have to leave it up here? There’s no way in hell I’m leaving it out.”

“O-oh, yeah… Y-you know… I could carry—” Roppi shot him a look. “—no I can’t.” Shintaro swallowed. “Okay, well…” Using Roppi’s black-with-red-trim jacket, Shintaro made a strap for Roppi, tying the sleeves together and very carefully situating the gun so that it would remain secure in their journey down the ladder. “…There.”

“Thanks,” Roppi said in clipped tones. “Now get down there. Hurry.”

Shintaro nodded and hastily tried to scramble into the hatch. Once Roppi saw that he was down far enough, he began his venture down too, finding the machine gun and his dead arm very inconvenient for the climb. Hooking his feet and his dead arm in the rungs by shifting around, he called to Shintaro, “I’m closing the door.”

“O-okay,” said Shintaro, and Roppi closed the hatch door, felt around a moment, and locked it.

“Alright,” Roppi sighed. “That won’t do much against a scythe, but whatever. We’re hidden. Let’s just stay right here, wait it out, and then leave. It’s hard to breathe in this musty place.”

“It’s also really… uh…”

“…Dusty.”

“Yeah. And—dark.”

“Of course it’s dark, dumbass.”

“…I know.” Shintaro swallowed, gripping the rungs tighter. What kind of spooky place was this…? He couldn’t admit to Roppi that he was freaked out; no way…

Roppi remained stiffly in his position, paying close attention to his balance. There was no way in hell he could say something like the reason for not wanting to go down being that he was frightened of what might be down there…. No, he wasn’t frightened in the least.

Taking a deep breath, Roppi sighed. There were strange whispers coming from below that didn’t help the case, but it wasn’t like it was getting any closer. As Roppi calmed himself, he even found himself thinking that they were rather annoying unidentifiable noises. He couldn’t wait to get out. In fact, he was about to suggest that they leave the site when Shintaro spoke.

“Roppi…” His tone was tentative, but somehow more sure than he had ever sounded before. “I think we need to go down there,” he said to Roppi, and the bitter one looked down at the other.

Holy fuck—” Roppi jumped and clutched the rungs tighter, nearly losing his footing in the process.

“What?” Shintaro cried, just as frazzled by Roppi’s reaction.

“What the fuck, Shintaro?! Your eyes—fucking freaked me out!”

“What do you mean?” Shintaro demanded, panicked. “Are they okay? Am I okay? Are you okay?”

“Fuck you,” Roppi mumbled, glaring up at the hatch door. There was a tense silence.

“…Um. What just happened?” Shintaro whispered, afraid to break the quiet.

“Your eyes were glowing red,” Roppi said flatly.

“They what?”

“Your eyes. Were glowing red. They were glowing, Shintaro. Fucking glowing. What the fuck.”

“I-I… I don’t know!”

“Be quiet already, or else this won’t be much of a hiding spot,” Roppi growled, and Shintaro hushed.

The hikkiNEET thought on this with his heart pounding in his ears. He thought of the group of kids he’d met right before coming to these stupid games… People like Kido; people like Konoha… They had red glowing eyes, right? But why would he have them? Since when? He sighed. “…Roppi, I really think we should go down there… Although, I really don’t want to… Um…”

“Then go down,” Roppi responded tightly. “I can’t move until you do.”

“…Right.” Shintaro began his way down.

Roppi hesitated, then braced himself. Something like eyes glowing… that was one thing. That voice down there… whoever it was, they were probably someone that had a hand in the creation of this game. Anger bubbling up inside him, his determination grew. Yeah, alright. He began his way down, not knowing that Shintaro had stopped after perhaps seven rungs. He didn’t know, in fact, until he’d stepped on the NEET’s fingers before quickly recoiling and returning to his rung.

“Damn it, Shintaro, do you want me to step on your face?” he hissed.

Shintaro ignored him. “Roppi, if we find someone down there… don’t try to kill them. Okay?”

Roppi glared downwards.

“…Please.” Shintaro paused. “I feel like something bad would happen.”

Roppi rolled his eyes, but considered his words. “…Fine,” he obliged, albeit with much grudging irritation.

With this agreement, the two went down the ladder, listening as the strange whispers began to sound more like odd echoes that were hard to discern. “The ground is close – I see light,” Shintaro whispered in relief, and began descending faster. Roppi clicked his tongue in irritation. He couldn’t go so fast in the first place – he only had one arm to work with, here! But Shintaro was slow anyway, so he found it wasn’t much difference to him.

When Roppi heard the footsteps beneath him, he knew that Shintaro had found ground. The rungs became polished and smooth, much to his annoyance – made it a harder grip for his hand… not that it was such a good idea to have his bleeding fingers touch the rusty metal, but you know…whatever.

Soon he, too, found a stone floor beneath him. Wordlessly, the two boys looked at one another. Both of them felt as though they were on the verge of discovering something very important about this game. They were on the brink of understanding. Realizing they were on the edge of this turning point, they began forward together down the yellow-lit hallway before them. At the very end was the same heavy wooden door that Yukiteru and A-ya had approached the evening before. As they stepped towards it with silent footfalls, they listened to the muffled-but-partially-discernable male voice coming from behind the door.

“…can’t believe it…! My favorite group, too…” A heavy sigh. A rattling sound. “Groups 1 and 2… falling apart…”

Shintaro and Roppi looked at one another. The hikkiNEET opened his mouth, but Roppi put a finger to his lips with narrowed eyes. He shook his head. He pointed to the door, then crept over to it and leaned in, trying to listen closer. Shintaro swallowed, nodded, and joined him.

“…find the morgue, huh…? Damn, Yato is being such a jerk! Ah!” Clack. “Jerk… I’m so mad. I wonder when Yukiteru and A-ya will use their items…? God, Izaya’s group…” Click, click. “Poor Twelve,” the voice chuckled. “Izaya, you’re gonna get your butt kicked… Guh, Akise is awesome…”

Shintaro got Roppi’s attention by signaling for him with his hands. The bitter one tilted his head, and Shintaro gestured to include both of them, then pointed at the door questioningly as if to ask whether they should go in.

Roppi nodded curtly and was about to barge in when Shintaro took him by his good shoulder and shook his head. The bitter one glared at him in a question. Answering with another gesture, Shintaro pointed to the machine gun sternly, then pointed to the wall. ‘Leave it here.’

Roppi looked at him like he was crazy, but Shintaro only repeated the gesture.

The bitter one allowed himself a small tsk before lifting the machine gun from his jacket-made strap. Before setting it down, he nodded down the hallway, annoyed. ‘And if someone’s down there?’

Shintaro shook his head. No one would come behind them unless they broke through the door.

Roppi mouthed the word ‘trap.’

Shintaro shook his head again.

Sighing, Roppi put down the gun with much hesitation, jerking his head at Shintaro afterwards in an agitated expression. ‘Happy?’ He even set down the ammo. No need for it if he didn’t have the gun.

Shintaro nodded in approval, looking relieved. He pointed at the medical bag curiously. ‘Should I leave it?’

Roppi quickly shook his head. “Protect that,” he hissed, jabbing his index finger at Shintaro’s chest.

Paling, Shintaro nodded faintly.

Roppi gave a curt nod, and they turned back to their place of interest: the wooden door before them. They noticed it had gone silent in the room beyond. They looked at one another.

“You guys can come in, you know,” the voice remarked. He sounded as though he were cocking an eyebrow.

Shintaro stiffened. Roppi’s eyes narrowed. He turned and began towards the door. “Roppi, wait—”

Roppi shoved open the door and made his way in to find the unthreatening-looking Aureus, sitting pleasantly in his swivel chair with his hands folded in his lap. He took one look at Roppi before flashing a huge, nervous smile. “…Hi!”

 

Chapter 39: Nature

Chapter Text

 

Roppi looked into the nervous expression of Aureus, the disarmingly normal-looking items master waiting for him and Shintaro in his underground hideaway. Though the game master had offered a nervous greeting, a beat of silence answered him.

Roppi didn't let that last too long, though. “Who the fuck are you?”

Cautious, Shintaro came in after him, trying to gauge what was going on.

“I’m Akise!” the man responded brightly, and everyone took pause.

Shintaro looked at Roppi, who was squinting at the mystery man. Roppi was about to explode on this guy – ‘Akise’ was the name Izaya had called the silver-haired asshole, wasn’t it? He was about to call him out on his lie when the mystery man spoke again.

“Wait-wait-wait!” Aureus yelped, backpedaling like no tomorrow. “Aureus! I’m Aureus! Crap! My name is Aureus, nice to meet you… Hehe…” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “My bad. You’re Roppi, and Shintaro.” His smile was thin and tight.

“What is all of this?” Roppi demanded, gesturing to the many screens lining the wall.

Shintaro stepped forward in shock. “There’s Seidou…!” He peered at the screens, identifying Kaneki, still sitting at the bedside of Touka. He continued to search. There’s Izaya’s group, there…! Twelve is sitting up, but… And there’s the group that Roppi was fighting when I came in… hiding from Yato? Yato is… hey, there! He blinked in amazement. All this time… being watched, huh? I mean, I know it’s a game, but…

“Those are my screens for all the cameras, see? Here, I can see everything going—” Aureus grimaced as Roppi smashed one of the screens with his fist.

“R-Roppi!” Shintaro cried, running over to stop him.

“Fuck you! You think this is entertainment?!”

“Yes,” Aureus answered simply, smiling at him. “Yes, I do. I mean…” He shrugged. “Sometimes things are pretty upsetting… You know? Like if your favorite character on TV were to die! Migi was mine…” He gave a sad little frown.

Shintaro’s mind played through their very first battle – he saw that weird little eye stretching around from behind him, greeting him coldly in that strange, high-pitched voice.

“This isn’t fun,” Roppi said lowly, grabbing a long rod from the counter and swinging it at another screen. “You think it is?!” Crash. “You fucking bastard!” Smash.

Shintaro put his hands over his ears. The shattering glass was even more deafening in the small stone room they were in.

“Stop that…” Aureus got to his feet, and Roppi wheeled around to face him. His eyes were wild with rage. Aureus spread his arms. “I mean… come on, I haven’t even explained why I’m here, yet.”

Roppi was on him in moments, gripping at the collar of his red t-shirt and jerking him towards him. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” The player growled.

“I think… I’m Aureus,” Aureus answered pleasantly.

“You saw everything going on,” Roppi spoke lowly. “One of the game masters, right?”

By now, Shintaro was hesitantly removing his hands from his ears, looking at the scene tensely. He swallowed.

“No, no, no, no, no,” Aureus digressed, shaking his head. He paused. “…Well, kinda.”

“The fuck does that mean?!” Roppi snapped.

“Every game master has a job, see. I just watch the game and enjoy. Plus, I’m—”

“YOU LET TSUKI DIE!” he screamed.

Aureus’s smile faded, his eyes saddening. “Mm…” Roppi took a swing at him, but Aureus dodged, grabbed his outstretched arm, and spun Roppi around. Shintaro cried out in protest as his friend was pushed to the ground, kneeling there hunched forward in inner turmoil. Everything inside of him was threatening to spill over again. “Shh… It’s okay,” said Aureus.

“It’s not okay!” Roppi shouted back, tears flooding, overflowing, streaming. He couldn’t understand why his cheeks felt wet again. Damn it…

Aureus gazed with distant eyes at the trembling form of Roppi. “You… are not okay…”

Roppi froze, a sob caught in his throat.

“No, it’s not just him,” Shintaro said coldly, stepping forward. Newfound confidence flooded him. “This game is not okay. And anyone who thinks it is okay is screwed up!” He glared at Aureus, standing firm with his hands clenched at his sides.

Aureus blinked, then smiled curiously at him. “Yeah, you’re right,” he conceded. “From your standpoint. I know more than you, though… so can you really make that assumption? Just saying… And anyway, I really am just an observer here.” He paused. “And if anyone finds me, I’m supposed to help them out!” Another pause, and he flashed a smile at them both.

Shintaro, confused by his answer, went to Roppi and attempted to help him up. Roppi refused and stood on his own, wiping quickly the tears from his face.

“Really, I’m not kidding!” Aureus insisted. “I’m the Easter egg of this game; the guy you don’t need to find to win, but… it sure is cool.” He grinned. “Three others have found me so far. You guys make five.”

“This…” Shintaro facepalmed. “…This really is a video game.”

Roppi punched him in the arm, and the weaker yelped in pain, rubbing at where he’d been hit.

“Now, if you’ll let me finish, I’m the items master of the game,” Aureus explained. “Anyone who actually finds me earns any information they want on the game… where the game masters are located… anything they ask. I’ll answer.”

“Unlimited questions?” Shintaro clarified, suspicious.

“Yep!” Aureus gave two thumbs up and wiggled them back and forth with a goofy grin stretching his mouth. “You can also ask questions about other players… about game masters… about anything that has happened in the game that you’re confused about. I’m not the guy you need to fight… Roppi, if there’s anyone you want to kill, it’d have to be Muse. Get rid of Muse, and the game is over. Careful, though, because there are seven of us in all… including me. Keep in mind, too: of the seven of us, not everyone is so approving of the game.”

“So the target should be Muse,” Roppi said coldly, and Aureus nodded before plopping back into his swivel chair.

“Ah… Aren’t you glad you didn’t kill me?” Aureus inquired, smirking as he winked at them.

“You’re still annoying and you piss me off,” Roppi answered flatly, and Aureus stuck his tongue out at him in response. Shintaro almost laughed, but feared the wrath of Roppi’s fist and was silent.

“Firstly,” began Aureus, “I have to say… Roppi! I am impressed with you! You caused way more chaos than I expected, and you did a great job. I’m mad about you shooting Shinichi… and Tohsaka, but I am admittedly impressed with everything you’ve done. You’ve arguably gotten Tsukiyama killed, and you just faced off with three groups in a day, mostly on your own. And you lived! In fact…” He got to his feet. “Because I’m so impressed, I’m gonna help you out a little bit extra, because you deserve it and you almost made me cry earlier.”

“Eh—?” Aureus clapped Roppi on the back, and he stiffened, recoiling and swiping at him. “Don’t touch me.”

“You’re welcome,” Aureus said, slipping between the two of them and spinning around to face them both.

Roppi paused, surprised. He looked down at his arms. “My—left arm?” He held his hands before him and stared at his palms, opening and closing his fingers. “I can move it…” Noting the hole in his left hand from Izaya, he realized that would hurt like a bitch pretty soon. Shrugging that off, he began taking off the makeshift strap and pulling his jacket on to wear.

Shintaro gaped in amazement. “Cool…”

Aureus beamed happily. “On that token, Roppi…,” he continued again, and raised his hands in exasperation. “…You have picked a fight with three groups! You have shot at everyone you’ve found—we get it! You’re pissed!”

Roppi straightened and paused in putting on his jacket, miffed.

Aureus laughed a strained laugh. “It was awesome. It was terrible, but it was awesome. But it was terrible.” He shook his head. Paused. Shook his head again. Pause. Again. “No, and you didn’t even kill anyone!” He breathed a deep sigh. “…Okay. I’m done ranting. Hi!”

Roppi and Shintaro glanced at one another again, both bothered.

“Well, anyway…” He happily jumped back into his swivel chair. They watched as he almost missed said swivel chair, causing it to tip over and leave him to tumble to the ground. “…Ow.” They didn’t seem to hold any sympathy. “You didn’t see any of that, by the way,” Aureus mumbled, setting his swivel chair back up. Skeptical looks were his answer, and he sighed heavily. “Oh, don’t worry about me… The only thing that’s hurt is my pride,” he commented with a grimace. “Now—Shintaro.” He pointed at the hikkiNEET, and he stiffened. “You… you’ve got your eye ability! Congratulations! Uh, I was gonna offer that to you as an item, but apparently Muse already beat me to it. Probably had to do with that big turning point you had with yourself there in the hospital.” He shook his head. “I’ve gotta say, I’m glad. That could have gone real bad real fast.”

“Wh-what do you mean, eye ability?” Shintaro demanded, and swallowed. This entire situation made him extremely uncomfortable. “I mean, since when do I…?”

Aureus beamed a closed-eye smile. Answering questions, this was more like it! “I know this one,” he answered happily. “You see, the realm you’re from is a ‘time route’ realm, which includes a kind of reset of the same time period over and over and over…” He paused. “…and over.”

“We get it,” Roppi said flatly.

He flashed a smile. “But yeah! In some routes you have this ability, and in others you don’t, but the problem is that with yours it needs to be activated! Actually, I don’t think you really know how to control it at all right now, and knowing Muse, it’s probably gonna progress real slow.” He stroked the light stubble on his chin. “So you’ve technically had it this whole time… but activating it’s a big deal because it’s not like the other eye powers you know about.”

“What the fuck is this about eye powers?” Roppi questioned, looking at Shintaro.

“I-I really don’t know much about it,” Shintaro hastily answered. “I just happened to meet a few people with glow-y red eyes that could make them do cool things like disappear or freeze others in place… Um. What can I do, exactly?” He asked, bemused.

“Well that explains your eyes glowing,” Roppi grumbled.

“You have the Recording Eyes,” Aureus elucidated, holding a finger. “It lines up with your photographic memory – you have the ability to remember all the other timelines. Think about it,” he grinned. “What have you remembered so far?”

“I…” Shintaro paled. He saw his own blood pooling around himself again, his scissors still lying in his limp hand. I killed myself…?

“That was what we call Route XX. I thought that was what was gonna happen to you in that hospital,” Aureus admitted.

“…XX…?” He thought of the appeal he’d had at the hospital, thinking how wonderful it would be slit his own throat and fall into eternal sleep.

“Now what are we talking about?” Roppi growled. He was very much left out.

“In Route XX, Roppi,” said Aureus, pleased, “Shintaro here—”

“D-don’t!” Shintaro protested.

Aureus eyed him. “…He was a lot more bitter. He acted a lot like you, actually. But he didn’t have a machine gun,” he added, and flashed another grin. “Say, Shintaro, can you remember anything else?”

Shintaro blinked and looked down. He remembered running over the hill desperately to find Roppi facing off with Tsukiyama’s group. He remembered Roppi turning on him in shock, shooting out of fear. The last thing he saw was the horrified look on Roppi’s face as the world blacked out.

He remembered coming down the ladder, yeah… He remembered Roppi barging into the room, demanding answers. Before him he saw flashes of gunpowder, covering his ears as the gunshots deafened him. Etched into his mind was the body of Aureus, blood pooling around him. He felt himself step back and fall to the ground, stumbling in his horror. The clatter of the gun falling to the stone floor when Roppi dropped it. Vividly he could see the bloody mess of Aureus’s chest, and ironically his only thoughts had been, Red is the color of heroes, because it was the only thing he could think of. The silence was making his ears throb. Even Roppi was held paralyzed by the blood on his hands. He’d never actually killed anyone… Maybe he hadn’t wanted to. In the eerie quiet, the phone on the counter began to ring. They silently listened to its repetition until it was punctuated with a long beeeeee. There was static on the other end. A voice, the Voice, came through this static. “Roppi, you’ve broken one of the rules of the game,” it said, low, cold, and sweet. “You have eight seconds. Did you know that eight is the number of eternity? It’s your number… Hachimenroppi. Enjoy your time.” There was a click, and then silence. Shintaro wanted to turn his gaze from the fallen Aureus, but couldn’t bring himself to. He vaguely registered that Roppi’s breathing was getting shallow. Fear? Probably. He heard him starting to speak, and then stopping. Shintaro realized he hadn’t counted the seconds. How much time had it been? Six, maybe. Seven? Eight…

A bright burst of light, and fiery heat. Shintaro felt sure that he’d been blinded by the explosion. He felt as though a gust of wind had blown over him, a heavy wind that cast a bonfire his way. It was hot air, but it wasn’t enough to set him aflame or anything. As he turned at last in an attempt to see if Roppi was alright, he saw his friend sliding down the wall as though he’d been thrown there. He was choking, the wind knocked out of him. Shintaro was kneeling on the stone; could it have been that Roppi, who’d been standing, was blown back by the explosion?

One of my favorite symbols… is the phoenix,” said the voice of Aureus, and Shintaro turned to see a figure amongst the flames. Terror kept him in place. The figure smiled.

“Shintaro!” Roppi was surprised. Lost in thought, Shintaro’s eyes had shifted from grey to red again. Now he stood frozen, unresponsive and with a look of fear on his face. Roppi didn’t know what to do, straightening up and ordering Aureus to help him. “What did you do.

Aureus shrugged. “He just happened to remember something – right on cue. It’ll be over soon. I mean…”

“Tch…” Roppi turned from him and went to the unseeing Shintaro, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him. “Shintaro, are you okay? Snap out of it!” He jerked his shoulders once more. “Come on, or I’ll fucking punch you…,” he said through gritted teeth. Roppi found himself oddly frightened of his unresponsiveness.

For Shintaro, the scene of a blazing conflagration of consequence began to fade as he heard Roppi shouting at him. Blinking dazedly, he realized that he was being shaken. Roppi, frustrated but otherwise alright, was right in front of him. He looked around in a panic. “Eh? Ah—oh—”

“Do you understand yet?” Aureus asked excitedly. “Think about it…”

“Other timelines… of these games?” Shintaro inquired faintly, his skin white as a sheet.

“These— You mean to say,” Roppi growled, “that these games have happened before?”

“Resetting the game is something that is governed by Rodd, another ‘game master,’” he explained, happy they were getting it. “I’m allowed to grant this as an action on certain special occasions… Despite the fact that none of the players remember, the outcome tends to shift. Let’s see… How many times have we played this game, I wonder…?” he mused, looking up at the ceiling and contemplating this. Head still tilted upwards, his eyes swiveled to look at them. “I wouldn’t worry too much, though. I think this might be it!” He grinned at them. “This might be the last route! I mean, to be honest I’ve gotta admit that I can’t clearly remember any other timelines, myself. Rodd – he does, and so does Muse. I don’t know about all of the others, necessarily, but I’m sure some of them know. Maybe.” He paused. “And plus, there’s you, Shintaro! Good luck with that.”

“Er, thanks…”

Roppi’s eyes narrowed, and Shintaro awkwardly got to his feet beside him. “So what’s your purpose down here, again?”

“I’m an Easter egg,” he reiterated. “And I’m the best items master there is!” he added with a grin. “I have the best items in-game, so anyone that finds me can get the choice to receive their own personalized super-special item!”

“What… are ours?” asked Shintaro, afraid to be excited. What kind of ‘items’ would they be?

“Well, for you two, only Roppi would get something tangible,” he conceded, stroking his chin. “Roppi, yours is pretty badass. The item is called a Harrowing Blade. It’s a switchblade like you would normally carry around in your realm, right?”

“…Right…” Roppi frowned at him, none too excited.

“But this knife… when you draw blood with it – the person whose blood you draw; see, it draws out the worst in that person. All of the negative things inside of them, no matter how well compartmentalized or buried or well-hidden they are, just spill out. It’s a disgusting weapon. It’s great. It’s bad, but it’s great. So bad…” He paused, looking nervously at the ground. “…But, yeah! That’s your item!”

Roppi considered that option with growing interest. “What if… someone can’t handle the worst part of themselves?”

“Then they break,” Aureus stated matter-of-factly. “You break them. Easy.” He turned in his swivel chair to face Shintaro, who tensed in preparation. “Now you, Shintaro… You have the option to bring one person back to life.”

Shintaro blinked. “…Huh?”

“You have the option,” he repeated, “to bring someone… who has died in this game… back to life.”

“Ah—” He froze at the huge implications of his statement. “Bring… back…?”

“Tsuki,” Roppi breathed, eyes wide. He looked at Shintaro.

“Now, Roppi,” Aureus continued, “he can’t choose who it is that he brings back.”

“What kind of bullshit is that?” Roppi growled, and Aureus shrugged.

Shintaro stared, dumbfounded. His mouth was open in his incomprehension of this entire idea. To bring someone back…? Impossible. But, how many times had he died now, apparently…?

“The person he brings back could be anyone in the game,” Aureus said with a sly smile. “So long as Shintaro can recognize the name and face… Seeing as he has a photographic memory, this isn’t a problem. Condition two is that he must have interacted with this person. Condition three is that he must have had a good first impression of this person.”

“D…does this include the people in the female game?” Shintaro inquired, pale again.

“…It does,” Aureus confirmed.

“I want to do it,” he said firmly.

“Now, Shintaro, I also want to warn you of the consequences that might—”

I want to do it,” he repeated.

“If I could just—”

“I’m not changing my mind!” Shintaro’s eyes filled with hot tears. “Yeah, I know it might not be Ayano who comes back, but… nobody in this game deserved to die…! If it’s Tsuki… or Psyche—even Delic! Shizuo or Yukine… If it’s Ene, or Kido, or Ayano…” He looked down. “Yeah… if there’s even a chance of it being Ayano… If there’s a way to save anyone…” He blinked the tears away with determination and looked at Aureus directly. “There’s no way I’d say no!”

Aureus blinked, then smiled. “Alright, Shintaro. These things will be granted at the end of this conversation… But there’s one other option – instead of either of you getting your items… It’s a dual deal – a select item for the both of you because you came down as a pair—”

“We don’t want to hear it,” Roppi answered for them. He clenched and unclenched his fists. “If there’s even a chance…”

Aureus smiled weakly. “Well, Shintaro almost has the right idea… ‘no one deserves to die,’ you know? But if you set your sights on only one outcome, Roppi… you may be gravely disappointed…”

Roppi scoffed. “As if it’d be the first time I was disappointed.”

Aureus drew his lips into a thin line. Shrugged. “That’s true… But, for now…we’ll wait ‘til the end to ask again about those items, alright? For now, it’s now my job to tell you where the game masters are located.”

“You can tell us that?” Shintaro asked, in awe.

“Yep!” he grinned, sticking up both thumbs and waggling them back and forth again. “In fact, it’s kinda my job… so… you know…” He shrugged. “So, the other six game masters are in the control center, which is in the tallest tower of the city. The way to get in is through an underground passage, but you can only get in if everyone on the playing field approaches the entrance at once. Yeah, that means that you need to be in an alliance with everyone in-game. Right now that seems to be impossible… so the players need to be narrowed down again.” He looked up, thinking. “In fact… even though your player number had been halved by this morning… with the new recruits and the surviving females coming in, there are a couple more than you guys started with now. There definitely needs to be some thinning out. I wonder who it’ll be,” he grinned, and Shintaro looked at Roppi nervously.

Roppi merely watched Aureus in a perpetual glare. “So who do we need to kill, then? The people who won’t cooperate…”

“Right now, you would be included in that bracket, Roppi,” Aureus informed him, cocking an eyebrow. “You need to get your act together and start working with the other players, no matter how much they piss you off… Unfortunately for you, the best way to end the game is the ultimate alliance. I mean, yeah… some of the players definitely need to die, because… uh, however many that are in-game right now is too much.” He shrugged as Roppi’s glare continued to try and pierce his easy-going demeanor. Aureus only stretched, bringing his hands to the back of his head and leaning back in his swivel chair. “But other than that…” He began counting on his fingers. “Group 1 is just trying to survive this thing and get home, as you know. Because you guys are allied with them, there should be no problem including them in the plan to make peace. Group 2 is your group, and you guys just need to all get back together. Right now you guys just need to make sure that you and Group 1 are stable. …Group 3 is already in the process of trying to make the ultimate alliance, so they’re on the right track. They’d be a good group to start allying with. Yukiteru and A-ya have some potential, but we’re yet to find out whether that’s good or bad. For now, it’s actually very good, and could be an asset when trying to figure out how to defeat any power players. Group 4 was about to go on a revenge spree, but they’ve chosen to start trying to save others’ lives all thanks to you, actually.” He grinned. “Good job, Roppi. Though I’m pretty sure that Ciel’s gotta die soon… Which’ll suck for Shinichi. But yeah, they’re fine for right now. Group 5 is super disoriented right now because of their loss of the only guy who knew what was going on – they’re all new players. It’s hard to see exactly what they’re about as of right now, but their current goal is to find Group 1 and ally themselves with them, so they’re doing alright. One of them is very close to Kaneki, as a heads up. Nice job, Roppi.”

Roppi gave a tch, looking away.

“Lastly, Group 6 also has the plan to create a huge alliance, courtesy of Izaya himself. Akise came up with it too, but he was a little late in the game. Celty’s found me already in her game – she’s the biker gal. So she has all this info too… though she hasn’t told Izaya about it yet,” he laughed. “The only really dangerous one in that group is Suzuya, because he’s liable to slaughter anyone he feels is a threat. He’s creepy as all hell.” He shook his head. “But, uh… there is one power player to worry about right now: Yato. He’s gone AWOL from Group 6 and is just out scaring or slaughtering anyone he finds. It sucks.” He sighed heavily as he brought his hands to his head, dragging them down his face. “Yato is a jerk.”

“But he was allied with us,” Shintaro argued. “What happened?”

“He was pretty loud and obnoxious before,” commented Roppi, bringing a sleeve to his mouth. “Though… it did sound like he had his heart ripped out when Yukine died. Probably fucked him up.”

Aureus was nodding. “After Yukine died, it was… actually really sad.” He gave a small frown. “But… after being really depressed and stuff, and Izaya being a dick like usual…” – Roppi stifled a mirthless snicker behind his sleeve – “…he actually found some resolve. Things were looking up; at least he had the will to go on. Maybe he was a little revenge-driven, but the person he wanted to kill was Kuroha, so it was all okay. Then Nora came in from the female game, and it went downhill from there.”

“Who’s Nora?” asked Shintaro.

“A Shinki like Yukine… but she’s a creepy one. And she’s apparently like a symbol of his past, which sucks because now he’s turning all ‘God of Calamity’ on us. Which sucks!”

“We get it,” Roppi said flatly. “It sucks.”

Aureus coughed.

“So, wait, what kind of god is he?” asked Shintaro, perplexed. “He originally introduced himself as a delivery god, but when we started up our alliance, he said he was a god of fortune… Now a god of calamity?”

“Yeah, it’s kinda complicated,” Aureus answered, rubbing at the back of his head. “He was originally created to be a God of Calamity, but then he broke off from his maker and became an unknown delivery god. It was Yukine who convinced him it was possible to become a god of fortune. But now…” He shrugged.

“So the only person we really have to worry about is Yato,” Roppi stated with a nod.

“But… he’s just, you know, really upset, right?” asked Shintaro tentatively.

“I mean,” said Aureus, “you could try to talk him out of it, but I don’t think it’ll work… I mean—” He clutched his hands into fists, swinging his arms back and forth. “…If you wanna risk it, you can go ahead.” He stopped swinging his arms. “…If you want…”

“Um… maybe not,” Shintaro frowned.

“In that case, Roppi’s right,” Aureus nodded. “Yato’s really the only real antagonist right now. Plus yourself, Roppi, but I’m hoping you go back with Shintaro here… Yeah, I ship that idea.” He nodded to himself, and they both squinted their eyes at him. Shintaro seemed frightened.

“Reconnecting with Seidou and Group 1?” Roppi clarified.

At Aureus’s confirmation, Shintaro sighed in relief, much to Roppi’s annoyed confusion. “Yeah… but if you don’t want any more power players… get back to your group,” he said, tone shifting away from playful and happy-go-lucky. His expression became serious. “Don’t let Seidou select his special item on those pillars.”

Shintaro furrowed his brow. “—Ah?” He thought of what their items had been – Seidou’s was… what? FastForward… right?

“Why?” inquired Roppi.

The items master put a finger to his nose. “Secret,” he answered in that childish way.

“Will he die?” asked Shintaro worriedly.

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no… We don’t let any time-related special items lead to death.” The golden-haired boy waved him off. “You don’t have to worry about that, but I’m just trying to seriously warn you, here… Thank god Kuroha’s dead – he was bad. Oh, right!” He looked at Roppi. “I thought it important to tell you how he died: he was killed with a single bullet to the head, using Psyche’s gun.” Aureus smiled a warm smile. “Poetic.”

Roppi stared at him for a moment, unable to think of anything to say. His red eyes shifted to gaze at the stone floor beneath their feet.

“…I’m glad,” Shintaro said quietly. “Can you… tell me how Touka’s doing?” he requested tentatively.

“Oh, sure,” Aureus answered heartily. “…Actually, not so good, but she still has a chance if you get going on back. Most of the groups in this game don’t act at night.” He pointed to the screens to indicate the setting sun. “It’ll be dark, so you won’t be able to see anyone coming… but that’s the perfect time to go, because that means they can’t see you, either.”

Shintaro swallowed. “I guess so.”

“You’ve just gotta become one with the night,” Aureus explained. “Walk with confidence. Even if you can’t see, remember than no one else can, either. Unless you’re a demon with night vision, but both of the demons are dead!” And he began to laugh.

“Uh… yeah… Thank goodness…” Shintaro laughed weakly with him. Roppi rolled his eyes. “But, um… there’s something I’ve been wondering for awhile now… It’s been really bothering me.”

“Hm?~” Aureus eyed him curiously.

“What realm are we in, right now?” Shintaro gripped at the strap of the medical bag. “I mean, there are all sorts of realms that you guys are taking us from. From my Realm of the Heat-Haze, whatever that means, to Roppi’s Realm of Alternate Personalities… Seidou’s Realm of Ghouls. What about you, Aureus? What realm are you from… you and all of the other game masters? Where are we?”

Aureus blinked at him, and Roppi glanced at Shintaro, not having thought of that himself. It was such an obvious thought; why hadn’t he…?

“It’s hard to explain,” Aureus answered, and thought on this. “We are in the realm… in which all of your realms coexist. It’s like the intersection of every one of your realities. How’s that?”

“Is that intersection how you can generate so much power as to bring things like demons and gods here? Or is it something else?”

“Good guess! Um…” Aureus paused. “…Yes.”

“So is it something else, or is it the intersection of realities?” Roppi frowned.

“Yes.”

“Uhh, okay,” Shintaro sighed, and Aureus grinned, putting his index finger to the tip of his nose again.

Roppi was unamused. “What now?”

“Nothing.”

Roppi clicked his tongue. “Alright, what weaknesses does Yato have?”

“His puffy-fluff scarf,” Aureus answered matter-of-factly.

“…Seriously?”

“No,” the golden-haired man beamed. “But it’s a pretty good start. Um, Yukine.”

“Yukine’s dead,” Roppi scowled.

“Cats?”

“Can you give us any real weaknesses?” asked Shintaro, exasperated. “Or are you not allowed to? Is that it?”

“No, no,” he waved them off. “Hm… Weaknesses for Yato…” He thought on this deeply for some time. Then, he looked at them both, shrugged, and gave a vague ‘I’unno.’ “Go get ‘im, boys.”

“…” Roppi was glowering at him at this point.

“Jeez, calm down…! I was kidding… Well, not really. Anything else, guys?”

“If we win the game, um… what comes after?” Shintaro asked. “I mean, with so many dead, I don’t know that everyone will want to go home anymore…”

“I have nothing to go back to,” Roppi confirmed dully.

“Um, about that…” Aureus looked around, avoiding eye contact. “That’s all super secret. Classified, you know, if I told you, I’d have to kill you, and then that would just be a bad time, and that’s not what you guys…”

Shintaro crossed his arms. “You don’t know what happens when the game ends, do you?”

“Nope!”

“Useless,” Roppi scoffed.

“Hey!” Aureus spun around to turn away from them. “I mean, I was still gonna give you guys your items, but I guess you don’t want ‘em anymore…”

“Fuck you.”

“Fine, fine…” Aureus turned slowly. “I guess you guys need to head out if you want to help out Touka, huh?” At their responses of concurrence, he sighed. “Alright, alright… So you don’t wanna know your dual item?” Firm expressions of dissent answered him.

“Please hurry up with this…” Shintaro was restlessly shifting from foot to foot.

“Alright. Roppi, would you like your Harrowing Blade?”

Roppi nodded curtly.

“Shintaro, you wish you use your Revival item?”

“Yes.” Shintaro clenched his fists, chest tight.

“Alright…” Aureus did a full 360 in his chair, seeming to pull a switchblade out of thin air when his back was turned. “Your Harrowing Blade, Roppi. Pretty cool, right?” He held it out to the bitter one.

Roppi hesitated, then took the blade in the items master’s hands. He turned it over, examining the hilt – black with eight rubies inlaid into the ebony. Flicking out the blade, he found the metal to be dyed crimson. “…Wow.” It was the only compliment he could get out.

Aureus beamed happily, knowing Roppi was impressed with the item. “Don’t cut me, by the way. It won’t do anything to me. As a warning, it can’t kill anyone. It can only draw blood. And, well, all that other cool stuff I mentioned earlier. Yeah?” Roppi grunted in comprehension. “And Shintaro, I’ll set the revival into motion. Even though I’m not allowed to tell you who it’ll be, I can say that they should be awake and alive by dawn. Sound good?”

Shintaro nodded, mute.

“Good luck, you guys. I’ve underestimated the both of you, so… continue to impress me!” He gave a double-thumbs-up. “I believe in you guys. Don’t do anything stupid, okay, Roppi? Shintaro, don’t die. Sound good, guys?”

They nodded – Shintaro was overwhelmed, and Roppi was just perpetually irked by this guy.

“Remember what I told you about the night,” Aureus reiterated. “Now, just head directly north of the exit to this place, and you should be able to find the hospital where your group is located. If ever you guys come across another items module, I’ll make sure you two get exclusively cool items. They can’t be super powerful like the ones you got here, but they’ll be better than the regular ones.” He smiled happily. “Good luck, guys!”

Shintaro bowed hastily while Roppi shifted his weight to one side and looked altogether unimpressed. “Th… thank you for everything.”

Aureus tipped an imaginary hat to him. “All part o’ the job, sir,” he said warmly.

Roppi nudged Shintaro, and the NEET looked at him, nodded, and straightened. As they turned, Aureus waved at them. “See ya, guys!”

Roppi looked back once more. “…Thanks.” It was a grudging gratitude, but it was gratitude nonetheless. Overcome with joy, Aureus grinned to himself as they left, waving until the heavy wooden door was closed behind them.

In the yellow-lit hallway, Roppi pocketed the Harrowing Blade and picked up the ammo along with the machine gun. He winced, then looked at his injured hand. There it was, hurting like a bitch as he expected. He clicked his tongue in annoyance and proceeded to ignore the pain as he positioned the gun to a comfortable position in his left arm. Shintaro stood to the side, watching him gather everything.

“…I wonder who will come back to life,” Roppi said quietly.

“Mm.” Shintaro agreed with a slight nod of his head. “But… whoever it is…” He looked at Roppi with a furrowed brow and a weak smile. “…If I’ve saved at least one person… I think maybe I can feel worth saving, too. Y…you know?”

Roppi stared at him, silent. His expression softened before he turned and began walking down the hallway back to the ladder. “…Yeah…” He became distinctly aware of the Harrowing Blade in his pocket. Such a cruel weapon to have… an item made specifically for him, huh? What did that say, he wondered? “…I know it, Shintaro.”

 

Chapter 40: Morgue

Chapter Text

 

“An items pillar, huh?”

Akira nodded in confirmation at Kaneki’s inquiry. She, Saiko, and Kiritsugu had just made their return from the upper floors of the hospital. Seidou’s group would presumably be back soon.

It had been on the second floor in one of the hospital rooms: an items pillar, glowing purple. As the three of them approached, it activated, projecting the silhouette of the Voice before them.

Greetings!” it had exclaimed happily.

“I love these things,” Saiko commented, approaching it with bright eyes. “It makes me feel like I’m in a video game, you know?”

Akira absently patted her head while Kiritsugu ignored her, examining the pillar with interest. “Is this one of the special items pillars they mentioned?”

“I’d say so,” Akira nodded.

Welcome to the Emina Games, Kiritsugu Emiya,” the figure smiled. “Unfortunately for the girls, they’ve not been input into these modules, so the only one in this group of three that can receive an item is you!” The silhouette spread its arms. “After player Hachimenroppi broke off from Group 2, it was made possible to activate and select items from these modules without the entire group present. I’m sure Akira Mado and Saiko here can explain to you what to do when the screen comes up, alright? Congratulations on your find, guys!” The silhouette disappeared, and a pink screen with white and grey lettering came up:

<Ken Kaneki> ............... [FastForward/Rewind]
<Ginshi Shirazu> ........... [Ghoul Activation]
<Kiritsugu Emiya> .......... [Heroic Spirit/Generation]
<Light Yagami> ............. [Forfeit/Followers]

Kiritsugu gazed with hollow eyes at the lettering before him. “If another were to find this pillar from my group, would they be unable to activate it if I’ve already made a choice?”

“I think that’s the case,” Akira answered, crossing her arms over her chest. All of her weight was shifted to her right side, as her left ankle was still injured, albeit wrapped up.

“What’ll Kiri-tsun do?” inquired Saiko, giggling.

He glanced back at her at the nickname. “I will tell the others about this, and we’ll make a joint decision. I can’t tell what benefits or disadvantages any of the other items might pose for us. Only they could have any idea, just as only I could begin to predict the outcome of my own items.”

“Very good.” Akira nodded. They set on out again, eventually returning to the ER, where they were now gathered along with the unconscious Touka and the tense Kaneki.

“It’s in room 2-15,” Kiritsugu informed him, and Kaneki closed his eyes, nodding silently.

“Alright, thank you… Once Seidou, Shirazu, and Light come back, we’ll all head there together,” said the half-ghoul.

“Seems appropriate,” Akira agreed.

“Seidou,” Saiko repeated. “I like him. He’s funny.”

“Funny’s… a way to see him,” Akira allowed.

“He has the potential of a soldier,” Kiritsugu stated. “Not the talent, but certainly the diligence.”

Akira closed her eyes, not giving any vocalized response.

“He’s an earnest officer,” commented Kaneki.

“I wonder how him and Shira-gin are doing… plus Light,” said Saiko, looking at the ceiling. “You know… if they found anything and stuff.”

A distracted hum was Kaneki’s only response.

Elsewhere, these three explored the entirety of the ground floor, prospecting for anything and everything that could be of use to them. They found nothing of use besides a lovely little flashlight they found in the security office. After the ground floor was searched, they travelled to the basement. There they found an empty room for the pharmacy and a complete laundry system with washer and dryer.

“You think it works?” asked Shirazu.

Seidou shrugged. “Knowing this place, probably not.”

“Mm.” Light put a hand to his chin, thinking. He and Seidou watched while Shirazu futzed around with the washer to see if it would turn on.

“Aw, no luck,” he grumbled, and kicked it. “Oh well.”

“Figures,” said Seidou, and walked forward. Down the small cement hallway was one more door. “I’m going to guess… this is the morgue, then?” Seidou inquired, examining the entrance before him.

“Gives me the creeps,” Shirazu mumbled. “I… don’t like hospitals.”

“Well, it’s the only room left to search,” said Light.

Nodding, Seidou opened the door. He didn’t see why there should be anyone in the morgue anyway, seeing as this was an empty city they’d been placed in – besides the players themselves. There was no reason he could think of for the game masters to put deceased players in here; especially someone like Delic, who they had respectfully buried already.

But he flipped the switch on the wall to activate dim, flickering yellow light. In this eerie half-light, the tables were revealed to them: sixteen bodies in all, left exposed and without shrouds to blanket them. The thrum of the low lighting filled their ears. The three of them stared in shock.

“…Holy shit…,” was all Shirazu could get out. “Who even…?”

Silently, Seidou stepped forward to the first body; that of a girl with pink hair and a light blue school uniform. She looked to be no more than fourteen. At her feet, he noticed a nametag:

Yuno Gasai, G1
Human, Realm of Future Diaries

“Could these be… the victims of the female games?” mused Light, as Seidou squinted at the plate.

“Oh, jeez…” Shirazu cautiously approached Seidou and lifted the triangular label of plastic standing on Yuno’s table. Turning it to the back, he found red lettering:

Kill count: 1
Killed by: Maka Albarn

“Their stories are all here,” Seidou spoke somberly. He went to the next, another young girl, this one with a beige, red, and black themed school uniform. Her brown hair was short, and a single red ribbon was tied in her brown locks.

B-ko, G1
Human, Realm of the Bookmark of Demise

A terrible feeling began to settle in Seidou’s chest as he walked amongst the dead. He didn’t know anyone thus far. And he hoped that he wouldn’t find anyone that he did know… These girls… they were only kids. He didn’t want to read these nameplates, but somehow, he felt as though it were an obligation of his. It felt worse to look at these bodies and not even know their name. To mourn them… who would even know they were dead? How could he possibly know who was left to remember them?

Hiyori Iki, G1
Human/Half-phantom, Realm of the Near and Far Shores

Remembering someone like Psyche or Tsuki… it hurt. To think of someone like Delic, there was another form of regret that seeded itself there… perhaps because he never had the chance to get to know this person. And for these people to be down here… The unbearable feeling in his chest only grew. This room was a mausoleum. This morgue was their tomb. People like Saiko and Touka… and Akira, yeah… They were survivors from their game. These were all of the fallen. All of the ones who’d been murdered in this madness, all in one place… If he were to compile everyone that had died so far in the game he knew, what would it look like, he wondered? This carnage… this was where they were all headed, wasn’t it?

Bishamonten, G1
Goddess of War, Realm of the Near and Far Shores

Seidou took pause, taking a bit longer to look upon this person: a woman with long golden hair that pooled around her and spilled over the edge of the table with its length. Looking at who had killed her, he was admittedly surprised. Akira and Touka both… huh…? He tried to imagine a combo attack between the two of them: Akira, the emotionless CCG officer, and Touka, the ghoul. Killing a goddess together…? He supposed if the circumstances deemed it necessary, it might make sense for her to team up with a full ghoul, but… Seidou closed his eyes and shook his head. A goddess… from that shores realm… Like, Yato? He furrowed his brow. This one sure was a mystery. He wondered… According to the back of the nameplate, this Bishamonten person had killed two people… How many had she injured? Was she an antagonist of that game, as Sebastian was for theirs? And come to think of it… These first four… are all labeled ‘G1.’ Group 1 was wiped out for this game, then, huh? How… terrible… The thought of Kaneki and Shirazu being killed off came to mind, but he pushed it away and continued forward to the next cadaver.

Ayano Tateyama, G2
Human, Realm of the Heat-Haze

Seidou froze, looking upon her gentle face, pale and sunken. A crimson muffler was wrapped around her neck, splayed about her as her brown hair was. Two red hairclips clipped to her bangs did nothing to keep it from looking mussed, and the brown look of dried blood caked her forehead just below these clips. She wore a black school uniform, and she looked to be only slightly older than B-ko and Yuno.

Seidou put his hand over his mouth. This must be the girl that Shintaro spoke about… He found himself back in the evening before the grand faceoff of yesterday, sitting in front of Shintaro on a chair while the red-jerseyed teen sat hunched forward on the edge of his bed. He spoke of heroes and of happiness. ‘…The one problem I couldn’t solve,’ huh? He felt as though someone had scooped out his insides and thrown them to the cement. It wasn’t a good feeling. Even after that conversation, I… He held his chest. …I hope Shintaro is doing alright. Please let him be okay… He closed his eyes. Suddenly Shintaro’s pained eyes were not his own sorrowful orbs, but Akira’s purple ones, guarded and distant. I need… to apologize to Mado, he grudgingly reminded himself. Look at me, being so angry with her here… And for what purpose?

Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes and pulled himself back to the morgue. Looking around, he discovered that Shirazu and Light were both still in the entrance. Light had his arms crossed in an oddly calm position, almost looking bored. Shirazu was stuck frozen in place. “Say, Seidou… Do we gotta go through here?” he asked, voice quaky.

“I… want to know their names. Look at their faces,” Seidou said slowly, looking at the remaining eleven bodies. “I want to… be able to think of them. They… should be remembered, too.”

Light raised his eyebrows slightly. A name and a face, is it? He refrained from smiling. Ironic, I guess. “Maybe we should tell the girls about this,” he suggested. “Maybe Akira-san and Saiko-chan can tell us more about them.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t, though,” said Shirazu. “I mean… would they want to see these bodies again?”

“It would give closure if they didn’t get to see the bodies beforehand,” Light pointed out. “Plus, it would provide assurance that their bodies were taken care of.”

“In a creepy-ass morgue? In a basement?

Light shrugged apologetically. “I’d think it was better than the vessels just disappearing when the survivors came to this game.”

Shirazu took pause, hanging his head and shifting from foot to foot. “Yeah… you’re right…”

“And…” Light brought a hand to his chin in thought, cradling his elbow with his other hand. “…To be practical… this might be a good source of food for people like Kaneki-san and Touka-chan.”

“No way,” Seidou said immediately, and Shirazu and Light looked at him.

“They need to eat sometime, don’t they, Seidou-san?” inquired Light.

“I mean…” Seidou backtracked a bit, taking the idea into consideration. It made him feel ill. “I… Logically, it would… be… um.” He swallowed. “Technically, if they are… already dead… then… maybe… they could be allowed… to consume… someone in the morgue… under the decision of Saiko and Mado… I mean—Akira.”

Light nodded. “That would make sense, seeing as they fought together.”

“I don’t like any of this,” grumbled Shirazu quietly, putting a hand to his orange-haired head. “Not at all, man… Fuck…”

Seidou turned back. “I just… want to take a look at these last ones before we head back. You guys can wait outside if you want. I just… feel like I should do this.”

“If that pleases you,” Light smiled. “You’re very honorable.”

“I—I wanna look too,” Shirazu said, running over. Blinking, Light followed. “I wanna remember ‘em, like you said. I shouldn’t not look because I don’t wanna. No, I mean… like, that’s exactly why I should look, you know? ‘Cause they deserve it.”

Seidou gave a sad smile, and Light closed his eyes, nodding in concurrence. Shirazu saw Ayano lying on the table and knew that she had something to do with Shintaro. Swallowing uncomfortably, he touched her hand, cold and lifeless. “I’m sorry you didn’t make it, man… Shintaro really wanted to see ya.”

Somberly, they continued. Seidou recognized vaguely the next name: Tsubomi Kido. Seeing as she was also from the Realm of the Heat-Haze, he figured she was also someone from Shintaro’s realm. How many people had Shintaro lost? For some reason, it made him feel guilty.

The next few he didn’t recognize in the least – another young human in school uniform and a young Deadman in a yellow dress; a full parasite and a homunculus; a human in her late teens, another Deadman with hair the color of snowflakes… To Seidou’s surprise, this girl (known as Shiro or The Wretched Egg, who had killed two people just like Bishamonten) had been offed by none other than Saiko. Maybe he’d underestimated that strange kid. Or maybe this ‘wretched egg’ was already weakened by everybody else, he thought drily.

“Holy shit, Saiko killed somebody?” Shirazu reiterated aloud, utterly astonished. “Seriously? She doesn’t do shit! What happened?”

“The situation called for her to act, I’m guessing,” Light shrugged.

Continuing forward, Seidou discovered Eto Yoshimura’s body on the following table. Reading that she was a natural half-ghoul, he had to pause. “The One-Eyed Owl…?” he guessed, looking into the surprisingly unthreatening-looking face of a girl with untamed green hair.

“That’s the legendary one-eyed?” Shirazu asked breathlessly.

“I think so,” Seidou answered. Light tilted his head, and at his wordless inquiry Seidou continued, “The One-Eyed Owl is the most infamous ghoul of our world, and has killed many humans and ghouls… being a naturally created half-ghoul, they… she is… er, was extremely powerful. The only person that has ever been able to face her and successfully harm her is Arima himself: the Shinigami of the CCG. …And not even he could kill her.”

Shinigami of the CCG? Light found this strangely amusing. Speaking of Shinigami… Ryuk doesn’t seem to be around. It’s kind of a relief, but at the same time, I don’t have the notebook… What a pain. He became distinctly aware of the pen in his pocket that was supposed to be his weapon. These game masters… they must think that’s really funny…

Shirazu peered over Seidou’s shoulder as he flipped the plate over to view the back. “She got four people…,” Shirazu breathed. “And it took a few people at once to kill her…”

“Probably the strong ones from their own respective realms, I’d say,” suggested Light, and Seidou nodded.

“I mean,” added Shirazu, “they were the ones that lasted as long as they did. I don’t get how Saiko made it, honestly, but she did kill that Egg person somehow, so… I dunno.”

Seidou looked ahead – there were only three bodies left, and one of them seemed to be playing tricks on his eyes. The next was a woman in military attire – a human. A young android-esque spirit in school attire. Lastly was a dim haze of a girl, pulsating in some kind of perpetual, gentle glitch. Shirazu raised his hand as though about to touch her, hesitated, and then decidedly backed off.  Seidou saw on her nameplate that she was a computer program named Ene, or Takane Enomoto. Another one that Shintaro knew, Seidou thought soberly, and looked at her resting face, adorned with odd data features.

“…Damn, woulda liked to have met her,” commented Shirazu sadly. “She seems… really cool.”

Light furrowed his brow, and Seidou frowned deeply at the orange-headed one.

What?” he cried.

Seidou silently turned back to the door to the morgue. “I… would have liked to, too.” He paused. “…Let’s go.”

Giving soft answers of agreement, they began on their return to the ER.

 

Chapter 41: It's Warm at the Gates of Hell

Chapter Text

 

Back in the Emergency Room, lying beside Kaneki just as before, there was the unconscious Touka. Behind her eyelids, visions played over in her head – memories of the occurrences of the female games.

Groups 2 and 6 had settled in the northernmost building of the city area; the very building that Groups 1 and 2 of the male game had met. The building where Delic had died. There, Touka’s and Akira’s groups had found their first special items module. Touka relived these moments with some pleasance. Group 2 – Akira, Saiko, and Ayano – had already chosen Saiko to receive the special item for their group. Saiko could thus now control her kagune, to a point.

Around her were the three living members of Group 2 along with the single other member of her group: Ene. Kanade, Riza Hawkeye, and Kido had all perished in the last encounter they’d had, and as of right now, Touka herself only suffered from a bruised neck and a broken arm. Ene had a leg disintegrated and seemed a bit glitchy, but was cheery nonetheless, much to Touka’s annoyance. Akira’s worst was just a sprained ankle, and Saiko was yet uninjured.

Touka and Ene stepped up to the items module, and the static silhouette smiled at them, presenting their choices. Despite all they had gone through together thus far, something about Ene still rubbed Touka the wrong way. So, when the selection screen was projected and Ene’s choice was “Human Body,” the rage began to blossom in Touka’s chest. She could always feel the eyes of Akira boring into her. She could sense the distaste; the uncertainty. Yes, they had fought together now, but their dynamic was still very uneasy.

Why is it… Touka thought to herself, gritting her teeth and clenching her fists, …that that kind of thing is a special item…? That lucky bastard… What, is it because of the fact she once was a human? I never was, and never will be. As if I wanted to be born this way. What bullshit…

Just when Touka thought she was going to explode with her frustration, Ene spoke: “Say, do you need that ‘FastForward’ thing there?”

Touka snapped out of it – this was before she’d jumped forward in time, and for right then Touka was from the same point in time as Kaneki and Seidou were. “…Huh? Why?”

“Because I don’t want mine,” Ene said with a smile.

Touka stared at her incredulously. “But… you could be a human.”

“I could,” Ene agreed with a shrug. “But why should I? I know that there’s really no point in becoming a human at this point.” She brought her hands together in front of her, blue gaze cast to the side. “My human body… it’s not very useful to any of you… I’d always been sick before… Touka, to be honest, I… I’ve already died.”

Ayano wrapped her arms around herself in the background, looking away in something like guilt. Saiko patted her on the head questioningly, and the red-scarfed one smiled at Saiko apologetically.

Ene didn’t pay them any mind. “Thinking about it now, since I died two years ago, I looked for my murderer for a year straight. Yeah, at first this body was great – I can do anything I want, and I’m not hindered by my stupid human body. But I can’t feel sensations anymore… and after all, I did have to die to become this way. I was set on killing my killer.” She paused. “In retrospect, it’s all pretty ridiculous. How could I kill anybody while I was stuck in the internet anyway? And even though this isn’t really the best of outcomes…” She looked back at the ghoul before her. “I mean, there’s an old friend of mine I got to find again, and I had to pull him away from the past. So… even though I used to be a human, if I can’t change what I am now, why worry so much about it? If something can’t be changed, it should be accepted, you know? And to try and come to terms with that… well, all of it would mean nothing if I just accepted this opportunity so easily. Life isn’t that easy. We can only move forward; we can’t stay in one place. We can’t go backwards.” Ene shrugged. “…That’s all.”

Touka stared in awe – somehow, she wasn’t angry anymore. She didn’t want to admit it, but suddenly she had some kind of respect for Ene. Turning away from the computer program, she mumbled a “thank you.” In her life, could she really come to terms with being a ghoul? Could humans stop judging that fact? She doubted it. But Ene did make her feel a little better about it. There was a lot to work through; she knew it. To be able to go to the future… Maybe in the future she’d be stronger – not just physically, but emotionally. Maybe she’d have the power to say ‘no’ to the desire for revenge. Maybe she’d be able to muster the courage to tell Akira that she was the one who killed her father out of that very desire. Maybe she’d have the strength to face her own sins and come to terms with not only the fact that she was a ghoul… but to come to terms with herself, simple as that.

“Should I?” she asked quietly.

“I mean, it’ll probably take you to Saiko’s time? Right?” Ene asked, back to her bubbly self. “Right?”

Touka nodded slightly, hesitated, and looked around at the three remaining of Group 2. Saiko gave her a thumbs-up, and Ayano smiled encouragingly. Akira merely didn’t make eye contact with her at all.

Touka swallowed, and then tentatively selected her option of ‘FastForward.’ In the flash of light that followed, she lost all sense of the world around her as new experiences flooded her mind. She saw college entrance exams before her; her fist was connecting with Kaneki’s face out of her profound pain stemming from his leave from the coffee shop of Anteiku; Anteiku was being raided by the CCG and a friend of the manager was carrying her away before she could even tell what was going on; she heard of Kaneki making his appearance and fighting for Anteiku only to go missing after the battle… Time spilled and tumbled around her, faster and faster – a new coffee shop, called :re. A light breeze, a heavy heart, a bright sun… no, that was… the items module…?

Finding herself on her hands and knees, Touka lifted her head to look at the people around her. “I like your outfit,” commented Ene happily, and Touka looked down at herself to see that she was in her coffee shop attire for :re. Her hair no longer covered one of her eyes. She saw that her tears had fallen to the ground, leaving a small pool on the flooring. Wiping at her eyes, she stood, staggering in disorientation. She felt the raging ocean in her heart had been quelled. The storm had become a soft, sorrowful drizzle. She felt steady. She could stand.

That night, Touka told Akira of her sin. She took her to the side and requested a serious chat. Akira was cold as she always was with her, but Touka didn’t really mind anymore. She expected it. At the time, Ene and Ayano were having a serious chat of their own about the death of Kido. Saiko was pretending to sleep on the ground in the meantime.

Akira was coolly responding to all of Touka’s words in the buildup to what Touka knew she would have to tell her at some time or another. It had to happen. In this game, if one of them were to die… Touka couldn’t let this terrible act go unsaid. So she talked with her, avoiding it as long as she could before the CCG officer at last said to her, “Please get to the point of what you’re trying to tell me. I don’t think you brought me over here to have a simple night chat.”

Touka lowered her eyes. “Akira… your name; it’s Akira Mado, right?”

“Correct,” Akira answered shortly.

The ghoul took a deep breath and felt her fear draining from her chest. It was only regret, soggy and leaden in her heart. “Your father, Kureo Mado, was killed by the ghoul known as Rabbit… That was me.” She felt Akira’s gaze on her at last, but she did not look back, only continuing. “I feel like that’s something you deserve to know… I couldn’t have been able to tell you about it before. It was far too fresh before I jumped through time – I remember… that night… very clearly. I remember taking off the glove of his left hand, in all my bitterness, and I… And I saw the ring on his finger, and realized… He had a family, too.” She paused. “I… have done a lot of things that I regret. Things I can never take back. Things that… that I’m going to have to pay for someday. Akira…” The shame and guilt filled her being. She was saturated with regret. “I know you want to kill me. If you want… I’ll let you do it.” She took this moment to look back at Akira, who was staring her down with those violet eyes, guarded as ever. Touka watched the officer’s eyes flicker with the inner turmoil… the debate that she knew had to be going on in her mind right then. “I mean it,” the ghoul said, and smiled. “I know I deserve it… you see?”

Akira looked down on her, face stone with her eyes vaguely depicting the battle of choice within. Touka felt as though it took forever – she saw the CCG officer’s thumb approach the trigger for her quinque. She had no idea what Akira could be thinking. It took a thousand moments for Akira to turn her head away sharply, thumb releasing from the button. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said curtly, and Touka tilted her head. “Do you realize the inconvenience of that? You are an asset to the safety of both my group and yours.” Akira closed her eyes. “Besides, Touka, that would leave Ene as the only remaining member of Group 6.” Her voice was slightly taut as she spoke.

Touka stared blankly, then couldn’t help but smile. That was the first time Akira had spoken her name. That alone filled her with light. That’s right, I can’t die… Kaneki hasn’t come back yet. I know… one day, he will. I need to make it back, at least for that. And if Akira Mado can at least tolerate me… maybe there’s some hope after all.

At peace, Touka closed her eyes. She thought perhaps she heard the humming of artificial lights, but her senses shifted, making the hum metamorphose into the rumbling of some dark premonition. Akira was waking her up that night, her expression urgent. Touka was the first person she pulled from slumber. In all seriousness, she told the ghoul that she had a very bad feeling about tonight. Touka, blinking wearily, paused before getting to her feet. Akira hadn’t been wrong about her intuition yet.

That was the night they were ambushed. It was Group 5 attacking, consisting of only two people. The Wretched Egg, Shiro, was the one who attacked them all while Touka and Akira were waking up the other three members of their groups. Akira was the first attacked by this girl all in white, snowy hair flowing around her as she slammed Akira into the wall with a single fist. Touka ran to help her, and the scene began to blur. The Wretched Egg was a ghost, hovering in the moonlight shining from the broken wall with tendrils of blood circling her as though she were some kind of demonic entity. As everyone else gathered their bearings, the Wretched Egg smiled.

Sitting atop the debris of the wall was a single girl with messy green hair, watching the scene unfold with a pleased little smile. Only looking back now could Touka remember this, as she wasn’t paid any mind to while the Wretched Egg was their enemy.

Akira got back on her feet to battle relatively quickly, and as they fought this Deadman, everything began blending together, the colors running as though the world were watercolor and it had just rained. Touka remembered hearing Ayano crying out to Ene… Calling out her name and pleading for her to tell someone named Shintaro that she was sorry. Tell him he wasn’t at fault. She remembered her apologizing to everyone as she went to block an attack aimed for Ene, only to be decapitated, head neatly sliced from her shoulders with a tendril of blood. Her scarf flew, falling to the ground slowly as though in a gentle breeze, caressing the passing time and slowing the second’s hand just long enough for her demise to sink in.

Vengeance was claimed, she remembered. The Wretched Egg was beaten down, and at last she’d been destroyed by Saiko in a sudden eruption of power through emotion that she didn’t know she was capable of. In death, the Wretched Egg… Shiro was smiling.

The colors were pulsing, Touka’s head was pounding even though she couldn’t quite figure whether her headache was of the present or the past. She heard clapping, a slow beat. She saw the green-haired one smiling eerily. She saw one of her eyes swirl to black, the iris glowing red. The moon started to melt, it seemed, as the dread filled the room like a thick black fog. Akira breathed, “The One-Eyed Owl…,” just as said half-ghoul broke into pleased laughter. Touka heard it echoing around her – she was in a surround-sound theater and she hated this soundtrack.

Saiko was held by the neck; it was too fast for even Touka to keep up with – the One-Eyed was strangling her and Touka was on the One-Eyed along with Akira… She was so incredibly fast… Everything was swirling and losing focus…

A clear voice broke through the confusion, a resounding, “Hey!” coming from the throat of Ene. She shot upwards, shining neon blue and leaving trails like a starry meteor. “Get out, guys!”

“You can’t take this one!” wailed Saiko, who was then thrown to the wall. The One-Eyed looked up at Ene amusedly.

“Don’t you remember?” Ene looked at Touka meaningfully. “I’m the fastest player in-game!” She winked, grinning before shooting back around and tapping the One-Eyed on one shoulder without fear, smearing the air with neon as she transported herself from one place to another, to another, to another… “I know why we didn’t get along, Touka!” Ene called as the One-Eyed, enjoying the game of tag, began chasing after the computer program. “You and I… well. Listen, quit lying to yourself and others, alright? You’ve fast-forwarded, maybe it’s changed – but there are things that you need to admit! I get it, alright? You need to tell that person how you feel before—it’s too late.”

Touka froze, and the One-Eyed veered to the side faster than any human could catch, aiming to tear into Touka and take her as her next victim. Ene looked back and smiled. Before anyone knew it, Ene was in front of Touka and the One-Eyed had her hand in Ene’s chest. Her image began to flicker. Turning her head slowly back, she began to glitch as she tried to look at her teammate. Her mouth was upturned.

Touka heard Akira calling for immediate retreat. She felt herself complying. She turned away from Ene into blackness – she was suspended in thin air, lying on a friendly void. She felt herself speaking as they ran away: “I already waited too long, Ene… It’s already too late.” Gradually, the air solidified and wrapped around her. At long last, she felt herself settling. She was lying on some kind of cloud, she was sure.

Slowly, her eyes began to flicker and open, glassy and hazy. Her blue-violet orbs shifted, slowly making sense of the imagery she was faced with, staring into humming artificial light. Blinking slowly, she looked up into the face of Kaneki, looking elsewhere with a tight jaw and eyes that masked all of his worry.

“Ka…neki…”

Kaneki turned to Touka, as did everyone else in the room – Seidou’s little troop had just gotten back from their trip to the basement, and everyone was all in one place. At the sound of his name, he looked upon Touka with a softened gaze. She gave him a fevered smile, eyes warm. “I knew… you’d come back, Kaneki…”

His brow furrowed as he smiled a pained smile. “Yeah.”

Akira, on Touka’s other side, brought the back of her hand to the ghoul’s forehead. “Fever,” she said simply.

“Is that… really bad?” asked Shirazu, scratching at the back of his head.

“If she survives this initial stage,” reiterated Kiritsugu, “she will likely survive her current state.”

“I wonder…” Seidou looked off to nowhere, thinking of Shintaro. He remembered that Roppi was the one who’d ran off with the medical bag and frowned deeply.

Saiko tugged at his sleeve, and he snapped out of it before giving her a questioning look. “I hope Shin is okay too, Seidou,” Saiko told him, eyebrows clinched together.

Seidou blinked at her, then nodded, guilt and incompetence tightening in his chest like a python.

Touka reached silently for Kaneki’s hand and grasped it. He held on tenderly. Please… let her be okay… His mind was plagued with the idea of her death. Of Hide’s. Shintaro’s. Roppi’s. He envisioned Tsuki desperately hoping for Roppi and Shintaro’s safe return, wringing his wrists and keeping most of his face hidden safely behind his beige scarf. He could vaguely perceive Delic’s hand patting his shoulder. He could hear Psyche, speaking brightly with his hands clasped behind his back, rocking on the balls of his feet: “They’ll be okay, Kane-kun… Roppi-san will make sure Shintaro’s alright. Keep it up, Mr. Positive! Then they’ll be fine. If not, well…” His tone darkened and trailed off, leaving Kaneki in dusky suspension.

The half-ghoul looked on Touka’s face; she was already asleep. The others around him were already back in conversation: “Mado—Akira—um, you good?” asked Shirazu, concerned. “I mean, are you alright?”

Akira had her hand to her chest, eyes closed. “I’m fine. It’s nothing of concern.”

“Uwah…” Saiko pouted.

The scent of fresh blood filled Kaneki’s senses, flooding him and overcoming all other sensation. Holding his breath, he took his hand from Touka’s and brought it to his left eye – he knew this kind of thing would make it activate. …Flesh… His jaw tightened, muscles tensing as he fought his need to eat. He was aware that the others were still talking, but he couldn’t focus on any of the words. He was, so hungry.

“That chest wound is reopened, I’d assume,” said Kiritsugu, and Akira nodded.

“There isn’t much we can do about it right now,” she answered, equally logical.

“You shouldn’t push yourself too much, Akira-san,” said Light gently, and she waved him off.

“Seriously, though, there’s nothing…?” Shirazu’s brow was furrowed in concern; Saiko was tugging at her sleeve with worried eyes.

Seidou straightened, his voice tight. “Take—care of yourself.”

Akira looked at him, but he wasn’t looking back. …As always.

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a chair being pushed back as Kaneki stood abruptly. His expression was dark. He spoke stiffly. “Pardon me.” Calmly but quickly, he made his way to the door, brushing past Seidou and Light and leaving the ER, closing the door behind him.

“Ah—” Seidou turned, blankly looking at the closed door behind him. “What…”

Shirazu rubbed the back of his head. “Rough…”

“Mama…?” Saiko watched the door with furrowed brow.

Frowning deeply, Seidou went for the door. “What is he thinking…” His irate voice was edging towards a growl – he was so on edge lately! Stress, loss, conflict, Akira in general… Ugh. Kaneki up and leaving the way he did only served to add to Seidou’s inner questioning of his character – honestly!

“Hey, wait…!” Shirazu said too late as Seidou walked briskly after the half-ghoul.

Akira’s eyes narrowed. “Saiko, grab my quinque.”

Seidou was filled with determination and irritation, putting all of it into his heavy footsteps. Rounding the nearby corner, he stopped short, his determination becoming burning fear with a tint of bitter disgust. Dread stood before him: six red-scaled serpentine appendages were writhing around the broken-down Kaneki, hunched forward and straining to control himself. His kagune was fighting with itself, twisting up in knots and occasionally tearing into Kaneki’s own flesh. Seidou felt himself back on the rooftop with him. “D…” What was he supposed to do? “D… Damn it, Kaneki! Don’t just let yourself go, here!”

Kaneki turned on him, his human eye rolling its socket with tears streaming in desperation. He seemed to catch himself from tearing into him with his kagune, gritting his teeth and shaking his head in the negative.

From behind Seidou came Akira, halting just as he had. “Saiko!” she called, and Seidou heard a small, “I have it; I have it!” along with the pattering of the small one’s feet on the floor.

A part of Seidou was glad that they were taking the initiative and stabbing the sense back into him, but just because it was Akira, he severely wanted to disagree.

“You don’t need to hurt him too bad, do you…?” Saiko asked quietly. “He’s still…”

“God damn it, he just needs a hard hit to face!” Seidou snapped, stalking forward. “Stop going all ghoul on me, you asshole!”

Back up, please… I… I can’t… I can’t… I’m so… I need food… Stay… back…

“You can!” Seidou snapped, and took a swing only to be knocked back by one of the kagune appendages. Gritting his teeth, he caught himself, sliding on his feet. “Snap out of it!”

“Give me the quinque,” said Akira simply. Seidou looked away. “I’m only going to contain him.”

“What happened to takin’ it easy?” cried Shirazu.

“I’d not suggest that you take this mission,” stated Kiritsugu, and stepped forward. “Time Alter…,” he began under his breath, attempting to activate his magus abilities. “…Double Accel.” He took note that he felt no different, marking it in his head with some vague surprise that his magic circuits were not working. Regardless, he jumped forward, doing his best to dodge the suppressed attacks. Though clipped a few times, he made it to Kaneki, the half-ghoul drawing back and withering before him, staring intensely, frozen at the smell of Kiritsugu’s own blood drawn.

L… let… go…

“You are not Kaneki,” Kiritsugu answered flatly.

Something occurred to Seidou just then, a shining light of recall: on the rooftop, what was it that had calmed Kaneki down?

“Seidou, step back,” Kiritsugu said firmly.

Seidou only approached Kaneki, expression stone. “It’s times like this I wonder whether anything really mattered to you, Kaneki. Kiritsugu’s right, so—come back, already. Think of some poem, or something! Tell it to me. I want to hear it!”

“A… ah…?”

“Go on; you’re the one that knows all the literature!”

“Kane-kun…,” Shirazu murmured, eyes clouded. Saiko grabbed onto his sleeve.

“Damn it, you have people to take care of! You can’t stick around to help if you tear yourself apart!” Seidou exclaimed, and Kaneki looked at him.

I… I… Who… no… I… ‘…I am—the way into… the city of woe,’” he began, slowly but surely regaining some control over himself. “‘…I am the way to a forsaken people. I am the way into eternal sorrow. Sacred justice moved my architect. I was raised here by divine omnipotence, primordial love and ultimate intellect. Only those elements time cannot wear… were made before me, and beyond time I stand… Abandon all hope ye who enter here.’” By the time his passage came to a conclusion, the kagune had shriveled away. He bowed his head. “I’m… sorry…”

“Sorry means nothing when you repeat things over again,” Seidou frowned. The others were looking on Kaneki and Seidou with an array of curiosity, surprise, and confusion. Kiritsugu cautiously released the half-ghoul. “Honestly, most of the time you’re great. So—stuff like this?” He shook his head. “It just doesn’t make sense to me.”

Unsure what he could offer other than more apologies, Kaneki remained silent. Seidou sighed.

“Is it that you need to eat?” inferred Kiritsugu, tone dull as ever.

Kaneki curled forward slightly further, not wanting to answer the inquiry.

It was Light who stepped forward as Seidou cast his gaze to the side. “Kaneki-kun, there’s something we found that may be of use to you.”

“D… don’t want…” Kaneki shook his head.

“Allow me to finish,” Light smiled. “In the basement, there is a morgue…”

“The ones from the female game that didn’t make it are down there…,” Shirazu explained quietly.

Seidou sighed heavily, cocking an eyebrow at Kaneki. “I think… um…” He cleared his throat. “I think you need to eat, Kaneki.”

 

Chapter 42: Juxtaposition

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

 

The sun set on an interestingly active set of players that night. Yato remained in the far west with Nora amongst the trees; Izaya’s group had set up for the night in the shopping district soon after their encounter with Roppi and Shintaro. Said pair were on their trek north to the city despite Roppi being so disgruntled about the whole situation. Shinichi and Ciel were nestled on the eastern edge of the park’s forest, gathering food before the darkness came to greet them. Deeper in the woods were Hide, Rin, and Senji, hiding out and on the defense. It was their first night here, so they didn’t know what to expect. North of them was Group 3, still in the residential area as they made all their preparations and plans. Groups 1 and 2 remained in the hospital, and Kaneki was at last able to replenish himself after being given the Goddess of War by Akira and Saiko. (“Don’t worry, Mama, she’s mean anyway – she killed two people we knew. Plus, she probably tastes heavenly.” “Saiko, that isn’t a good joke.” “Ah— …Sorry, Akira.”)

In the sky, three fireworks went off in memoriam of those who had been killed in the last twenty-four hours: two silvery fireworks accompanied a single golden explosion – Kuroha, Maka, and Tsukiyama. These shimmered on-screen below ground, where the items master Aureus watched the scene distractedly as all of the groups did their own things. In the golden-haired boy’s hand was an old-fashioned phone, its spiraling chord attaching the hand-held to the device itself. Aureus had already argued with the other game masters that it was ridiculous to have such an old-fashioned phone when everything else was so high-tech, but after Muse offered to get him something ‘cooler,’ he declined and explained that the old-fashioned one he had was too awesome to give up.

Leaning back in his black swivel chair, Aureus breathed a sigh. “So, bringing someone back…”

In his ear, he heard the person on the other end backtrack a bit: Greyson was the one he was speaking with. “Oh, yeah,” they said, and paused thoughtfully. “So—knowing Aureus, it would have to be something really meaningful, right?”

He heard Rainbow piping up in the background: “Symbolism!”

Aureus chuckled, rubbing at his forehead. “Yeahhh… But you guys have to pick the person… So…

“Well it’s a collab, you know. It’s more fun that way,” explained Greyson, and Aureus was nodding.

Well…” He shrugged.

“Oh, Aureus…”

What?

Rainbow spoke up again: “I think that the point we’re getting to is that it has to be a symbolic revival, but it has to be someone that was really close to Shintaro.”

“You do the connection stuff, yeah,” Aureus agreed, holding the phone in the crook of his neck while he picked at his fingers.

Rainbow was giggling. “Shintaro…”

“I love Shintaro,” Greyson said happily. “And Mustang; I’m so glad he’s in the game… Well, maybe I shouldn’t be because of all the death and destruction that goes on here but—I’m a sadistic little shit sometimes so—”

“It’s okay,” Rainbow whispered.

Aureus sighed heavily, trying to suppress exasperated laughter. “Greyson… Oh jeez… Well, I have a pretty good idea of who’s gonna come back.” He closed his eyes, thinking. “Someone with a strong bond to Shintaro, but who represents moving forward – they have to be part of the future, not the past.”

“You can’t see the day break again without tomorrow!” Greyson piped up, and Aureus nodded.

“Exactly.”

“So, we all seem to know who we’re bringing back?” asked Rainbow for clarification.

“Yeah,” Greyson confirmed. “I just think Aureus is a little lonely down there in his hole.”

“I am, though…,” he pouted.

“Well, we’re going to go tell Muse so it can get taken care of,” said Rainbow.

“Talk a little longer?” Aureus suggested, and flashed a hopeful smile.

“Sorry, Aureus…,” Greyson said, apologetic. “But hey, this’ll make things more interesting!” They gave a mock maniacal laugh. “…Anyway—yeah, we should do that. This’ll be fun!”

Aureus made a hesitant eeeh sound, slowly raising his shoulders in a shrug as though unsure how ‘fun’ this would be.

“Chin up, Aureus,” Greyson seemed to smile.

“They’ll be back to life by morning,” added Rainbow.

“Alright, thanks for passin’ it on to Muse for me,” Aureus said. “Bye, guys.” They answered in farewell, and he put the phone back on the receiver, pinching the crooked bridge of his nose. “Hoo boy… This’ll be interesting, at least… I’unno.” He sighed, leaning back in his chair. “By morning, then. Wonder how it’ll go.” He turned his head to look into the scenes the screens showed him – from Ciel griping at Shinichi to Hide joking around with Senji.

A particular projection caught his eye – a scene between two of his favorites? Seidou and Kiritsugu both? “Hm…” Folding one hand into the grasp of the other, he leaned forward to watch, beginning to smile once again in interest. “How will this go?” he inquired to no one, beginning to scratch once again at his fingers, picking at his skin absently. “Heh, heh…”

In the hospital, things were settling down – Shirazu had been sent out before nightfall to obtain food, and it had been determined that the ER would be the sleeping area. There was a Starbucks conveniently located within the hospital for visitors, and once Shirazu was back with food, the two groups ate while Kaneki prepared drinks for everyone with a smile. He didn’t know the procedures for any of the drinks served there, but most of the others didn’t even know what Starbucks served, so it turned out alright. Although Touka lurked in the forefront of his mind, Kaneki did a good job of lightening the mood for everyone. He himself felt much less like he was teetering on the edge of blacking out and losing control. Yeah, at least he was physically in control for now. Emotionally? Well, he fooled the others pretty well.

Everyone retired early that night in pursuit of much-needed rest. The first two sent to stand guard on the rooftop were Seidou and Kiritsugu, each with their own last drink of the night – Seidou had had a little more fun with his, getting an iced pineapple tea with a few pumps of syrup. You see, he very much liked pineapples. Not that anyone needed to know, but he did in fact have a pair of pineapple boxers back at home. If anything were his favorite food, it would have to be that beloved fruit.

On the other hand, Kiritsugu was very plain and simple, having asked for a cup of hot black tea for himself. Holding the cup with both of his hands, he looked out on the city with empty eyes while Seidou looked the opposite way, his own eyes filled with embers. Only the wonderful taste of pineapple could extinguish some of his fiery frustration. In the ongoing silence, he sighed. He hated how quiet this guy was.

The CCG officer shifted one way, then another, unable to find a comfortable position. He couldn’t sit still, and this Kiritsugu guy wasn’t saying a word. Future Akira might even be better than him… He thumped the heel of his palm on his forehead. Did I really just think that? Stupid… I mean—in regards to emotions, maybe… Seidou sighed again, and somehow he knew Kiritsugu didn’t even spare him a glance. This is going to be a long, long shift…, he thought to himself, feeling even more electric with the tension he harbored. Annoyed, he rubbed at his forehead, then sipped at his sweet pineapple tea. He felt a little better after that.

I seriously can’t stand this quiet… He closed his eyes, eyebrow twitching. He literally isn’t doing anything at all, and I’m pissed. I need to relax already. Cue sigh #3. He looked at Kiritsugu brightly. “Nothing like some pineapple tea to end the day,” he tried, and the Magus Killer actually glanced at him. A noncommittal grunt was his answer. Seidou’s mouth twitched. More silence. Seidou tried again. “Uh, about earlier… Thank you for, for helping out with Kaneki.”

Kiritsugu nodded slightly, giving a cold and simple, “Of course.”

At least he spoke, he thought drily. “What was it you said you are? An assassin? From the way you went about it, I could tell you’ve gone through quite a bit of training.”

He grunted in confirmation. “I’m called the Magus Killer, where I’m from,” he stated, and Seidou started to nod.

“Yeah, I remember you saying that, come to think of it… So… ‘Magus’? What exactly does the ‘Magus Killer’ do?”

“Kill mages.”

Seidou’s mouth twitched, eyes deadpan. Well what does that mean, smartass? “Okay, but to me a mage is like some wizard with a pointy hat and stuff. You said you were a mage, right?”

“I am,” Kiritsugu conceded.

“So… you’re a mage who kills mages.”

“I am,” he once again confirmed. “I kill the heretic mages that use their power to create destruction. Or at least, that was what I did, once. It's been some time. I have other goals now.”

Seidou looked at the stars, envisioning Kiritsugu offing badass magical foes with a fire blast or something. “Sounds… pretty cool. So you’re, like, a good assassin.”

There was a beat of silence. “…Is there any such thing?” the other answered coolly.

“I mean, I think so.” The CCG officer shifted nervously. “Because… if you’re killing bad guys, that’s good, right? Like in the cop shows—like, any hero story ends in the demise of the bad guy, right?”

“But there is no one true enemy, and you can’t save one person without losing another. That’s the way things are.”

Seidou took some time to think on this. “I mean… sacrifices are necessary in the long run, but if in the end the goal is reached… isn’t that alright?”

“So long as more people are saved than sacrificed, it is just,” Kiritsugu answered flatly.

“Sacrificing one for the many, huh…?” Seidou swallowed. It was kind of an eerie thought, but the more he dwelled on it, the more it sounded like something the higher-ups of CCG would say. “But… for someone to say that, where is the compassion then? Doesn’t every life matter?”

“You can’t save one without losing another,” he repeated.

“Not even… if…?”

“Do you wish to know what a ‘ghoul’ is in my world?” Kiritsugu inquired, and Seidou blinked bemusedly, looking over at him even though the Magus Killer was still staring straight ahead.

“Uh… go for it.”

“It has to do with vampirism,” Kiritsugu began bluntly, and Seidou furrowed his brow. At first he was slightly skeptical, but as he thought on it – eating human flesh versus human blood weren’t too far different in the long run. “When a vampire’s black blood is injected into a human through its bite, the human is burned alive from the inside. Their soul burns with it. Typically these would become mindless ‘zombies,’ so to speak… but in the event of that person having an above-average life force, that person will become a Ghoul.”

The officer tilted his head. Burning alive from the inside, huh? Sounded terrible… “So a ghoul to you is like… an undead person that’s evil? Well, that can have clear thoughts and strategies?”

“A Ghoul to me, Seidou, is a corpse-eating demon – a mostly-decayed body with a warped soul acting as a savage beast with no intellect of its own, surviving off of human corpses in order to try and reassemble its own body.”

“That sounds… ah…” Seidou rubbed at the back of his head.

“To be clear, I almost attempted to snap Kaneki’s neck when I grabbed him. With the way you act upon discussing your form of ‘ghoul,’ and having identified Kaneki as one such ghoul, his mental state deteriorating as it did led me to believe that he may lose control and start to mindlessly lash out in an attempt to devour everyone around him. I had no idea what the capabilities or lack thereof your realm’s ghouls had, nor do I now. I don’t believe it would have worked trying to snap his neck, either. However, it was you who convinced me to spare his life, whether I could have killed him or not.”

Lost as to the point of this spiel, Seidou merely blinked.

“…You called to him in the way you knew would reach him. More importantly, your call worked. Seidou, tell me this: what is a ‘hero of justice’ to you?”

Seidou faltered. Yeah, it was what he wanted to become, but how could he define it? He thought of his own hero for an example: a man by the name of Koutarou Amon. “A hero of justice… well, they’d have to always stand by their beliefs… They’d be very passionate about what they do. They’d do their utmost to save others, putting their heart into their work and holding everyone they’ve lost in their hearts, always. They… they can’t just hold onto the textbook definition of justice, you know? They can’t just follow protocol. They have to have their own belief. They have to care. Uh…” He frowned, furrowing his brow as he strained to think of a way to explain such a thing.

“That is naïveté,” Kiritsugu said dismissively.

Seidou’s chest was tight. “What—do you think you’re a hero?”

There was a pause. “…No.”

The CCG officer froze, then looked down at the roof tiles beneath him. Now he just felt bad.

“Keep in mind, Seidou, that in battle there are certain sacrifices that must be made. There are strategic losses had by choice of the leader. It’s impossible to save everyone. You have to be able to make the choice of who is alright to sacrifice towards the ultimate goal, whatever it may be.”

“So, what, sending people on suicide missions as a distraction so your side can win?” Seidou frowned. “Like that?”

“If it comes to that, yes.”

“No way!” he snapped, and Kiritsugu actually looked at him with those empty eyes of his. Seidou faltered. “…Even if it takes longer, then you spare your men and win the long way.”

“Even if it means sacrificing more lives by the end?”

“I…” Seidou looked down, festering with irritation. This sounds like… the higher-ups, huh…? That’s no hero… No, can’t be. But this guy says he’s not… “So if you’re not a hero, then what makes one in your eyes, huh?”

Kiritsugu went back to gazing out at the city. “There’s no such thing.”

Seidou stared at him. “…What?”

“A true hero – it’s an ideal that cannot be achieved by normal means. That’s all.”

The officer’s eyes narrowed before he returned his gaze to his own view of the city. What a pessimist, he thought grumpily. I shouldn’t have tried talking to him at all. Now I’m just pissed off. He rattled the ice still in his cup, stuck at the bottom. And I’m out of pineapple tea, too. This sucks… He bowed his head. Yeah… this’ll be a really long shift…

On the ground floor, there were Akira and Saiko, standing in the dark lobby together, speaking to one another in hushed tones. Akira had caught Saiko coming back from the bathroom: “Saiko, is it alright if I have a word with you?”

The small one looked up at her superior with a questioning, curious look. “Ah… sure…?”

To the lobby they had gone, and there they were now whispering to one another as they went to the chairs to sit. “It’s about Takizawa,” she spoke softly but urgently.

“Seidou?”

“Yes.”

“Hmmm…” Saiko put a hand to her chin, closing her eyes as she droned a thinking hum. “Do ya like him or something?”

“This is about the Seidou in our time in comparison to the one we see here,” Akira explained bluntly, ignoring Saiko’s teases with ease.

“Ah? Yeah, I dunno that I recognize him. He looks kinda familiar, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard his name,” Saiko nodded.

“That’s because Seidou Takizawa was reported dead by the CCG three years ago.”

“Ah—?” The blue-haired one looked at the other in shock, staring into her violet eyes. It was hard to see in the dark – they’d turned off all the lights at sunset so that they wouldn’t stand out in the city. “Isn’t he from three years ago…?”

Akira nodded. “He didn’t actually die; he was missing in action… You’ve seen what became of him, in fact – in the auction raid we just performed.”

“…Huh?” Saiko tilted her head. “So he was MIA, but he was at the auction, huh? What, did I miss him?” Akira solemnly shook her head, leaned in, and murmured who it was that Saiko had seen that matched the Seidou she had just met today. “…Th…that was Seidou…?” The small one looked at Akira with wide eyes, looking horrified.

Solemn, eyes sad, Akira nodded. “I… I knew he hadn’t died, but…”

Thinking on this, Saiko tried to lighten things back up. “You know, I couldn’t recognize him with his eyebrows.”

The superior looked at her blankly, and the Quinx member began to giggle.

“…Byebrows,” she said, and cracked up again.

Akira gazed at her with some confusion, but gradually, her expression softened. She smiled a lopsided, faint smile at the other, tilting her head slightly. Sighing lightly, she turned to face forwards, deep in thought.

Saiko didn’t want to think. Seidou was sure funny, but the person Akira spoke about… it wasn’t something she wanted to think of. She didn’t much want to think about anything. She just wanted to go to sleep. In time, they did. At least, Saiko did. Akira, like many others in their large group, lay awake, staring through the dark with nothing to look at but the images in their own mind’s eye.

Indeed, it seemed it would be a long, long night.

Listening to the shuffling, the breathing, the door opening and closing as Akira and Saiko reentered the ER… New player Light Yagami lay on his back, hands behind his head as he stared through the black at the ceiling. Hearing the little Saiko crawling into her own bed to rest, he rolled onto his side, closing his eyes with some annoyance. How inconvenient…, he thought. Staying in a hospital without any medical supplies… With the way they describe this game, it would be better if Touka were to just die.  It’s no ill will, just logic: even if she survived at this point, she couldn’t do much of anything for us. She’d only get in the way… Ah, but that’s mere inconvenience we can work with. Touka is important to Kaneki, Akira, and Saiko, in essence. It seems like all of them caring adds Shirazu into the mix. Two of the four are leaders in our groups: Akira and Kaneki, respectively. Between all of it, she must be good-hearted for someone like Akira to want her to live. In that sense, I can’t very well wish death upon someone with a good heart, can I? No… That’s not what ‘Kira’ is all about.

Though, to be honest… with the way Seidou talks about ghouls, I could almost wonder whether she’s someone who needs to be killed anyway. I guess I don’t know enough about them to judge such a thing. Someone like Kiritsugu Emiya, on the other hand… An assassin? There’s no way he can make it to the end of this game. He’s an asset for now, but assassination is the same as murder – to me, he’s just another criminal. Then again… I suppose it would have to be put into consideration what kinds of people he kills – for now. The same goes for people like Kaneki and Touka, who obviously have killed before, being a creature that needs to eat people. He rolled back onto his back, opening his eyes. Honestly. How distasteful.

Other than that, I have to say that Roppi is horribly unpredictable. From the short time I saw him… combined with the fact he ran off with the medical bag… He’s really not worth keeping around. He’s just a delinquent who’ll only cause us conflict, really. He frowned slightly. Of course, there’s no way I can go killing anyone with my own hands… that’s terrible. Without my notebook, I can’t cast judgment, so that leaves me with… He closed his eyes, mouth twisting gleefully. …Oh, I’ll just play it out so the others can kill the ones who need to die. This shouldn’t be too hard at all…

With that, he allowed himself to drift into slumber.


Conversely, there was L, perched on the chair in the kitchen of the house that was their shelter. It was a three-bedroom household, so one had been given to Yukiteru, A-ya, and Rika respectively, as they were the youngest of them all. Roy was currently standing guard outside, having decided that he would switch with Minene halfway through the night. Said terrorist was currently lying on her back atop the couch in the living room just behind where L was crouched in the kitchen. Because his light was on, her arm was draped over her face. He could hear her making annoyed grunts on occasion, so the detective figured that she was not quite sleeping yet.

L, in his signature crouching position, was deep in thought, wide eyes staring at something only he could see. Schrodinger’s cat, huh…? He thought deeply on this, mildly musing to himself that he’d very much like some sweets to satisfy his cravings. Instead he began to bite on his thumb pensively. A-ya-kun went over the groups quite well… he is a very observant young boy. Him and Yukiteru-kun had an alliance with Group 4… currently consisting of a young boy who is apparently not much of a threat, along with a teen with slightly-above-human physical capabilities… But he said that Groups 1 and 2 are the best bet for an alliance right now… With three groups combined, the rest of the game could potentially run smoothly, so long as there isn’t too much inner conflict… I suppose this also depends on how cunning the antagonist or antagonists are… Sheer strength is something I’m not all too worried about. Of course, I don’t think they’d pose too much of a problem either way. It’d be boring if it were an enemy that wasn’t as smart as I was… And I know I have to win, but that’s just because I am childish, and don’t like to lose.

He paused in his thoughts, only to resume a moment later. I wonder what group Light-kun ended up in, he mused. I suppose I’ll find out in time. Although… it is interesting that it’s him and I that were chosen from our realm. His pale lips began to upturn in his intrigue. Curious that the game master would call him ‘Kira’ so bluntly… But after all, they did say my name, too. A-ya-kun is right… there is something terribly off about this game. It’s unnatural, to say the least, but given some of the details, here… Different realities with different rules governing what is ‘possible’… A collision like this makes little to no sense. To hold it all together and keep the given ‘rules of reality’ from each realm… bound to each person, respectively… that should take enough power on its own, I’d think. Then adding limitations onto that… it doesn’t make sense. What is the purpose to this game? Find the game masters… that is?

He bit harder onto the nail of his thumb. ‘This game is fake,’ huh, A-ya-kun? …Schrodinger’s cat… It’s an old theory – put a cat in a soundproof box that you can’t see into. A bomb is placed in with this cat. There is a 50/50 chance of the bomb going off, killing the cat. There’s no way of knowing the outcome, so the theory states that the cat is suspended in a reality of being both dead and alive at the same time. That is, until someone looks inside the box. ‘If a tree falls in the middle of a forest and no one hears it, does it make a sound?’ It’s a theory on reality that is based in the perceptions of people – if no one can perceive it, it never happened. …A-ya-kun…

‘It’s all pointless,’ he said… no… entertainment. The way he explained this game… ‘If we can find the game masters, the game could potentially have never even happened,’ right? Meaning, everyone in the game… to all of the players, there is no purpose. We’re just victims, apparently. But then… ‘If no one were to watch this game, it would never even happen’… In essence, that’s true for the simple fact that the game masters are the ones being entertained, to our knowledge… However, it could be that there is an audience beyond that. But that would mean—

“…” L lowered his thumb from his mouth and hugged his legs to his chest, staring intensely at that kitchen table in front of him as if it were the key to unlock the universe. …We’re the cats inside the box, I suppose. But if there is already the notion that we will fall to chaos, it is what will occur…? Meaning, the people running these games… Their reality, is…?

 

Notes:

Times are strange. Take care and be safe, everyone!

Chapter 43: The Sky Crumbles

Chapter Text

 

 

 

 

“You mean to tell me we’re sleeping in trees?” Ciel inquired of Shinichi flatly, looking up at the large oak tree that the older had indicated.

“Yes. It’s above ground, and people wouldn’t really expect it.” Shinichi looked meaningfully at him. “Especially not of us.”

Ciel crossed his arms. “…I suppose so.”

“So we’re sleeping in trees,” Shinichi nodded, and the young earl sighed.

“Can’t you think of anything better than that?”

“I can’t miraculously make a treehouse for you like a demon might be able to, if that’s what you’re asking,” he responded, and Ciel began to scowl. “Come to think of it, I don’t think that would work anyway, seeing as that would be really loud…”

“That’s not what I meant!” Ciel snapped.

Shinichi smiled gently at him. “We’re only doing it for tonight, alright, Ciel? We’re just switching it up more so we’re harder to find. It gives both of us a vantage point to see below, and people less often expect to look above them.” He knelt down so that he was eye-to-eye with the younger. “I want to make sure you make it out of this game, so that means… doing annoying things like sleeping in trees.”

“I’m not a child,” Ciel sniffed, turning away. “I know. I can sleep in a tree just fine. I just won’t like it.”

“Thank you for bearing with me, here,” Shinichi said. “Now, I’m gonna pick you up and jump up into the branches, alright? If we’re higher up, it’ll take people longer to climb, if they’re human…”

“Fine, fine… Hurry up.”

Genuine care stirring in those distant eyes of his seemed to warm Shinichi’s expression as he scooped him up and brought him into the branches.

Just a bit southwest of this pair, there was Hide, Rin, and Senji, hiding out in the hollow of a tree for the past three hours or so.

“I really hate this,” Rin commented for perhaps the thousandth time.

“You should probably be quiet,” Hide said brightly.

“Yo, since it’s getting dark out…” Senji poked his head out of the hollow, peering through the twilight. “…Maybe we should get a move-on.”

“I like that idea,” Rin said immediately, obvious relief in her tone.

“It’s probably a good one,” agreed Hide.

Nodding, Senji stepped out of the hollow first. As he helped out Rin, then Hide, the fireworks went off, much to their confusion.

“Wonder what that means…,” commented Rin, gazing up at the shimmering explosions.

“A celebration of a stage passed?” guessed Hide. “An end-of-the-day marker – maybe it’s Day 3, or something like that? Entertainment for the audience? It is a game.”

“Or maybe a casualty count,” Senji added, tone hollow as he looked up at the smoke left in the sky. The others went quiet. “…Let’s get going; real quiet now.”

Agreeing whole-heartedly, the three began trekking north through the trees.

It wasn’t too far from these groups that the pair Yato and Nora had settled for now, watching the waning moon rise as Yato leaned with his back to the barrier, legs spread in front of him as the stars reflected in his lost eyes.

“Yato…”

Distractedly, Yato turned to look at his Shinki. Nora… well, Hiiro.

“That person hurt you,” Nora said quietly, smiling her doll’s smile as she held up the ripped fabric from her sleeve that she’d torn off earlier in preparation for this very moment. He stared at it for a bit, as if he couldn’t identify what it was she was offering him. “Let me fix it up.”

“I’m fine,” he said shortly. He began to recall a black bartender’s vest, ripped in half before being forced on him in order to tend to the gut wound dealt to him by the Gourmet earlier on in the game. Indeed, both Yukine and Shizuo had tried to bandage him up, even though both of them ended up making it worse.

“I want to help you,” Nora insisted quietly, reaching to tend to the new wound on his shoulder, given to him by that new player.

Yato’s head was bowed. “I don’t need anything for it.”

“I only need to—”

“It’s not even that deep,” he said shortly, curling forward.

She watched him, hunching forward and wrapping his arms around his legs, burying his face in his knees. After a moment’s pause, she crawled closer, snuggling into his side. He looked at her with distinct confusion, perhaps annoyance. “You’re upset,” she commented.

“It’s none of your business,” he answered sourly.

“Does it have to do with that pretty-eyed blond boy you were so fond of?” she inquired, tone lowering.

His glowing blue eyes turned to look straight into her jaded red orbs, gaze unwavering and intense.

She only smiled at him. “I thought so.” There was a tinge of sadness to her continuous gentle joy that she always seemed to emanate.

He clenched and unclenched his fists, muscles tensing. It, hurts…

Looking up at his pained expression blankly, Nora wrapped her arms around him. “It’s okay, now, Yato. You don’t need to worry about any of that anymore. You have me… I’m your weapon. And I’ll make sure you make it out of this game, okay…? We can be together like family again. It’ll be okay, alright, Yato?”

“Like family…,” he repeated, tone hollow. Family, huh? A thought occurred to him: kneeling on the ground, Yukine kneeling at his side. Both of them had tears streaming down their faces and Hiyori, before them, was beginning to spill over with her own salty tears. She pulled them both into a hug, and Yato felt himself giving in to the embrace. Despite the vulnerability, it was somehow a good feeling.

His heart seizing, he watched the image fall to pieces. He thought of his father standing behind him, hands behind his back with that cruel smile twisting his features. He thought of running off with Nora, laughing like a child while she smiled along with him and held his hand the whole way.

It’s true that Nora never once blighted me… She never once ‘sinned.’ Even in the worst of situations, she just calmly smiles. That’s right… He looked at the stars, beginning to shine as the sky darkened further. …In a game like this, Nora would be a better—companion, right? He felt a stabbing sensation through his chest at such a thought. Yukine… he’s afraid of the dark. With Nora, I…

“Mm?” Nora looked up at him as he got to his feet.

He looked back at her with his slitted, luminescent blue eyes. “Let’s go, Hiiro.”

Nora, pleased, joined him at his side. “A night ambush?” she supposed, and he nodded before they jumped off together into the dark woods.


On the rooftop of the house Group 3 was situated in within the residential area, Yukiteru and A-ya sat together, staring up into the sky side-by-side. “Strange… feels like awhile since we’ve talked together like this, huh?” commented Yukiteru. He found that, pleasantly, he felt rather comfortable talking to A-ya like this – there was none of the initial nervousness this time. “Come to think of it… we didn’t last night. Not really, anyway…”

“That was when we saw Aureus,” A-ya agreed softly.

“Yeah… We didn’t sleep since then,” Yukiteru laughed a bit. “But somehow, I’m not even tired. I mean, my body’s feeling kinda tired, but that’s really it. I feel wide awake.”

“Mm,” A-ya grunted in agreement. It became quiet, and the two sat together in a comfortable silence.

“…The stars are pretty,” Yukiteru murmured.

“If…” began the other, “…if I were to see a shooting star right now… If we were to see one in this sky, what would you wish for, Yukiteru?”

“Huh?” Yukiteru blinked. “I… don’t really know.”

“It’s strange,” the raven-haired one remarked with some sadness. “I think… I’d wish for ‘normality.’ The ‘mundane everyday’ that… that I hated so much.”

Yukiteru looked at A-ya, brow furrowed.

“Those people I met with so often…” A-ya actually began to smile, lying back on the roof tiles and resting on his back with his arms around his head like a pillow. Yukiteru looked back at him, surprised by the smile from such a monotone guy. “…There were three of them: C-ta, B-ko, and D-ne. D-ne was always pretty weird; she was really sweet and real quiet… but she was actually incredibly mischievous. I’m almost positive she hated C-ta and I. B-ko… she was interesting. The most popular of all of us; she was always outgoing and a crowd-pleaser outside of our little group. To be honest, she was actually just a wearer of masks, and I knew how to get under her skin. She was quite the temperamental one, actually. It was humorous. And C-ta… well, I’ve known him forever. Yeah, he spoke for me when I was silent… That made him my voice. He… always tried his best to help me, even if it made him kind of clingy… I didn’t mind or anything… No… in fact, I was more just curious as to why he found it necessary… seeing as we’d been together as long as we had… And… I think…” A-ya brought one of his arms over his face, that smile still visible albeit trembling on his lips. “…He and I were always, always… on different wavelengths… But he was the closest to understanding me, all that time… We each tried to communicate to the other, but… in the end… it was always moments too late… Like… just another missed call. Nothing more. Nothing less. Too late, I think… I got the message.” A breathy laugh escaped his mouth. “I think, he loved me. It’s something I never could have gotten… So, now…”

Yukiteru tilted his head, perplexed. “Wait, what do you mean?”

A-ya removed his arm from his face, looking at Yukiteru with such grave sorrow. “I think he was in love with me, Yukiteru.”

“Like, wait—oh…” Yukiteru blinked, paling. “Seriously? Like that? Isn’t that… weird?”

“Why, because it’s a guy?”

“Uh… well…”

A-ya shrugged, gazing up into the sky. “Well, I don’t think so. It’s not all too strange, in the end. All it is… is a feeling. It’s too late, anyway…” His red eyes were far-off. “It’s weird… I’m realizing only now that the boredom that I couldn’t stand was… it really was happiness. I… I wish….”

The other adjusted his hat, his own blue eyes averted. He wished he could understand something like that, but here was where they had a discrepancy. No, Yukiteru never had a ‘friend,’ not in disguise or otherwise.

“I wonder, Yukiteru… Would it be better if I hadn’t known any of them at all? Not having lost anyone… but not having anyone in the first place; would that be better? I can’t tell…” A-ya looked at him. “…Isn’t that your case? I can tell by the look on your face.”

Shocked, Yukiteru stiffened. Then, he relaxed. Yeah, A-ya really did know him well. He lay beside him, grabbing his hand and squeezing. “Yeah, I guess that’s true,” he conceded.

A-ya glanced at him when the other took his hand, then went back to staring into space.

“I guess… we were both lonely… But it doesn’t take being alone to be lonely… you know?”

Nodding slightly, the other responded, “I know.”

“In the end, I guess that’s my own fault,” Yukiteru admitted with a nervous laugh. “I… Even when I had the chance to make friends, I ran away from the situation, every time. I was just… a coward, really…”

“That’s fine,” said A-ya quietly.

“Maybe,” Yukiteru smiled. “But you know… for the first time, I had a connection to somebody… even though, well, they’re from a different reality and all… I’m sorry everything had to end up so bad… but I’m really glad I met you, A-ya. Can we, at least be… alone together?”

A faint smile began to tint A-ya’s mouth with warmth. “…I guess.”

“You know, that’s good enough for me,” Yukiteru sighed, beginning to laugh. He closed his eyes. “Because I already know that you’re just the quiet kind of person… that’s all. I think that’s okay. I mean, so am I… So it’s kinda weird that we can have these conversations… I’m just… really glad, you know? I… really don’t want to lose you.” Opening hazy eyes, he felt quite at ease. “We’ve come pretty far. I think we can make it. I think… maybe, we should rest…” Blue orbs closing to rest, A-ya looked over at him with his flat expression and sorrowful red eyes. Yukiteru’s breathing evened out, and over the next few minutes of silence, A-ya knew for sure that his friend had fallen asleep.

“…Yeah, probably,” A-ya agreed very quietly. His mouth twitched; he felt his lips beginning to tremble. “But, I…” His eyes burned, and so he brought his arm over them as he felt warm liquid spilling down the sides of his eyes, wetting his black hair, tickling his ears. “If I fall asleep, wh…what if I, don’t wake up…?” he asked no one, voice quavering. “C-ta… I’m so… so sorry…” Dissolving into silent weeping, he held the hand of his sleeping friend tight. Sinking into the abyss of his loneliness, he became distinctly aware that Yukiteru was the only reason he saw any reason to continue forward. And so, he clung onto that hand for dear life, praying for the sunrise to come soon.


“What’s that over there?” the quiet question came from Rin Tohsaka.

“Let’s find out,” Senji answered in equally hushed tones. He then proceeded to step on a stick, snapping it and consequently causing Rin to hiss at him to be careful.

“Nice little clearing,” Hide commented as they approached the light ahead that they’d gone to inspect.

“Yeah, the moonlight might even ruin my night vision,” Rin remarked, hands on her hips.

“Oh, shit,” murmured Senji.

Rin looked at him questioningly, but Senji just walked forward into the clearing to inspect. Looking where he was headed, she saw what it was he had seen. “…Oh.”

Lying by the other edge of the clearing was a boy, perhaps fourteen years old. The grass around him was black in the moonlight with his lifeblood. Much to Rin’s discomfort, the boy had a smile touching his lips, on closer inspection. Even worse, his eyes seemed to be just barely open, gazing nowhere as if in some silent, aimless apology… or perhaps in thanks.

Terrible…, thought Hide, staring solemnly at the fallen one.

“That’s just sad,” Senji remarked with restrained emotion. “He’s just a kid.” He drew closer. “Looks like a stab to the neck did him in…” He shook his head. “Wonder what happened.”

“I kinda wonder how long ago it was…,” Hide said, brow furrowed as he scratched his cheek uncomfortably. “It… all looks fresh. Smells fresh. Freaks me out…”

“Let’s move east,” Rin said dismissively, and began walking away.

“…I… like that plan,” said Senji, and he and Hide followed after her, moving as silently as possible through the woods.

Elsewhere, Shinichi lay with his back to the trunk of the tree he had chosen to sleep in. Eyes closed, he heard the far-off whispers and footsteps of said group of three. It sounds like… they’re approaching, he thought, opening his eyes. He looked over at Ciel, seemingly soundly sleeping – if in discomfort – in the tree nearest him. Shinichi had already sworn to himself that he would remain poised to jump and catch the young earl if he happened to fall out of his resting place. Admittedly, the thought brought a smile to tug on the corners of his mouth.

I should probably check out this group approaching, Shinichi thought. It would be a good thing if they were friendly and willing to ally themselves with us, but if they’re a threat… then I should take care of them while they’re still nowhere near Ciel. Closing his eyes, he listened closely to make sure that there were no other players anywhere nearby. Fortunately, the only other group he could hear was one a bit further off in the opposite direction – it was a group in the shopping area further east that didn’t seem to be moving out anytime soon. In fact, there was barely any movement there, so he supposed they were resting for the night. Good. He looked at Ciel again. So that means if I were to leave him for a moment, he should be safe. Jumping down from his own branch, he walked to Ciel’s tree and touched the trunk, looking up at the young earl with a gentle smile. “I’ll be right back,” he whispered. “Be safe.”

As Shinichi sped off to investigate the approaching group, Ciel opened his eyes. After he knew he was gone, the earl scoffed. “Did he really think that I could sleep in this tree…? Besides… I have to be prepared, even on my own…” As if to prove this, his grip tightened on the revolver in his pocket. Closing his eyes again, Ciel sighed. I wonder what it was he was going after… Likely, it was another group – crossing nearby or approaching our general vicinity. Whether they had ill intent is yet to be seen. Eyes flickering open again, he contemplated all the possibilities. “…Hm.” There’s no real way for me to judge who it could be because I can’t possibly get a grasp on all the new players in-game. A smirk tugged at his mouth, and he began to laugh. A game, is it? This is no chess game… if only it were… I didn’t look at all the pieces right. Something about what A-ya said to me strikes me… It’s very… interesting, in any case. I can see why the game masters are having fun with it. They must be incredibly confident in themselves… Their arrogance is fed by watching even demons and gods fall by the hand of their own creations. Sebastian was wrong… the barbarians are not the ones who came up with the game… No, it’s the ones partaking in it. And the masters are laughing at our foolishness. He snickered lowly. It’s always the same… But we’ll come around sometime. We’ve got to. In the end, they’ll have underestimated our will. We, as people, will not give in so easily. His eyes shut once more. Mistakes and bloodshed will keep on, but in the end, we’ll unite. Would it happen again, were we to restart? Of course. That’s our nature. But despite that, we’ll find our way by the end, every time. And that’s the beauty of it.

Smirking, he breathed another sigh. If anyone will solve this game, it would certainly be A-ya. Him and anyone else close to ending it all… If I were a master, I’d try to send them in the wrong direction. I’d like to warn him of such a thing. Why, I wonder? Maybe because I see A-ya surviving beyond me. Why does it matter to me, then? Curious. ‘A hole in my heart,’ is it, Shinichi?

I do not fear for my own life. I will fight to the end, but the dangers don’t faze me in the least. I do wonder… He tentatively touched where his right eye was, beneath his hair and eye patch. I’m curious… as to whether that symbol is still there… That pact… That promise… I… wonder if, by the end of this game, I can come to trust Shinichi. Staring at the leaves above, his visible eye grew hollow. I’d suppose not.

At this thought, a sudden burst of light blinded him, swathing him in blue as he felt the branch falling from beneath him. He crashed to the ground with it, crying out on impact. The wind knocked out of him, he immediately cocked his revolver, holding onto it tight even though he’d injured his dominant wrist on the way down. Gritting his teeth, he pointed the gun forward.

Yato, having sensed life on the edge of the wooded area, had sliced through Ciel’s sleeping tree and was now gripping his weapon, raising her into the air as he approached at high speeds, filled with infinite bloodlust that overflowed into the power he put into his swing—

Before him was no more than a child, fighting just to take a breath of air. Yato froze. Ciel glared up at him, breathing hard, on one knee. The god stared at the young earl before him – he recognized him as the one who’d been bound by contract to the demon he had slain. A young lost soul… Yato’s eyes flickered, his pupils fading from slits to the softened regular gaze of the person he had been. …He’s barely a teenager. He’s on the cusp of reaching the turning point in his life. This kid; couldn’t I…? The lost spirit Yukine flashed in his mind’s eye. Like, at that time…

Ciel staggered to his feet, standing his ground and taking aim with his revolver – just a warning. ‘Stay back.’

Yato ignored the questioning thoughts from Nora that permeated his consciousness. Taking her by the hilt, he stabbed her into the ground and took a step forward. “Hey…,” he said tentatively, as though talking to a child as a stranger, fearful of scaring them off.

Ciel, eyes suspicious, took a step back, glancing backwards momentarily to see if maybe Shinichi was coming back.

“No, I don’t want to hurt you; it’s okay,” Yato assured him, and Ciel could see the endless sorrow, the desperation in his eyes, glowing a soft blue. The earl looked at the bloodstains on that white scarf of his. “I… know I killed that… demon…”

Not lowering his guard, Ciel kept the gun up, his heart beating in his ears.

“Your soul… was bound to eternity with that demon, right?” Yato asked of him, taking another step forward. “But… you’re free. You… you’re still alive.” He laughed weakly. “You’re walking a very tricky path. I… can tell. But—you still have a chance.” Yato opened his arms in a show of peace. “You don’t need to always dwell in the darkness. You don’t have to give up—you’re not past the point of no return, not yet. I can assure you that there’s still a way for things to get better… I swear it! I’ve seen it before.” Another step forward. “Your soul is resilient. I can sense it. You are strong… if in soul alone, that’s enough. I don’t know how your realm works, but… I swear it; it’s all that really, truly matters… And… if you’ll let me, I want… to take care… of you…”

Ciel, dumbfounded, began to snicker. This snicker grew into a laugh that evolved to the point of laughing freely with his face to the sky. “You—want to what?” He did his best to stifle his mirth.

Yato paid no mind to the irately vibrating hilt of Nora, lowering his hands slightly in confusion.

“Admittedly,” Ciel conceded with that smile twisting his mouth, “I have to thank you. If it weren’t for you, I’d have never felt this light again. But looking at the blood on your attire and the shame in your eyes, I’m looking at nothing more than a god on its way to becoming a demon. For you to want to take care of me; it’s ridiculous!” The young earl lowered his weapon. “Yes… I can’t always rely on everyone else to care for me. Aren’t I following the same pattern if I fall into line with you?”

“I wouldn’t,” Yato vowed. “It wouldn’t be—like that…”

“That’s a lie,” Ciel said coldly. Looking down, he paused, then stared up into the waning moon above. “I know that… maybe there is a way out of the dark game I keep falling into. But at what cost? What would it take? In the end, the moon is always swallowed by the night.” He paused. “You gave me my soul back, but that doesn’t mean I owe it to you. You also took away the only thing I had left. Pathetic of me? Maybe. But that means you stole from me at the same time you gave. Which overpowers the other? You don’t understand… I’ve always lived in the dark. Over the past few years of my life, I think I’ve come to figure…” Ciel’s expression stretched into a full smile. “I may well belong there. It’s not like that’s necessarily ‘bad.’ Haven’t you noticed? There’s beauty in the night, too. And we need to find that beauty in even the worst of our situations, right? Especially if you know it won’t change. And as for myself…” He grinned at Yato, firm resolve in his visible eye. “…I’ve already decided. I won’t give you that satisfaction.” He was lifting the gun. “I hadn’t planned on giving Sebastian the satisfaction of having my soul either. I have no intention of losing this fight. Tell me, if you’re a god. If I defy you, is it a sin? If it’s to maintain my dignity?” Ciel tilted his head, pointing the barrel at his own temple. “Because I’m sick of being everyone’s pet dog.”

Yato stiffened as the moment began to draw itself out into a million.

I feel like I should apologize to Shinichi, thought Ciel, smiling up at the moon. I almost could say I liked having him around, but I know I’ll only get him hurt by the end. That’s what the masters want anyway. A-ya… I hope he makes it, too. Funny… that I actually don’t want to pull the trigger now.

But he did. Yato screamed for him not to, the fear eating away at his heart as the bullet downed him instantly. He was sure that the sound the gun had made was incredibly loud, but all he heard was a muted ringing. He had grabbed the gun, but it had already been shot and now Ciel was on the ground, smiling softly. Yato couldn’t even comprehend such an action – taking one’s own life when living was such a precious and fleeting thing. He himself was someone who struggled to remain in existence. All of the spirits that became Shinki like Yukine – yes, even Nora; even Hiiro… The reason their lost souls remained was because they were fighters. Because they didn’t give up. How could this child say he’d go down fighting when he threw his life away so easily? How dare he?

Before Yato was even conscious of his own actions, he found himself, sword in hand, impaling the body of Ciel over and over, shouting at him as if he could hear, stabbing him and stabbing him and stabbing him until his tiny body was mutilated with his persistence. Even when he had at last become conscious of what he was doing, he just kept going, stabbing over and over and over… and… over…

“Yato, that’s enough,” Nora spoke softly in his consciousness.

Yato stuck the sword through his chest one last time, feeling the blade stick in the ground. Breathing hard, he leaned on the hilt.

“You can stop now…”

Closing his eyes tight, he knew that there was a group of four people nearby. He heard one of them stifling unbearable sorrow.

“For now, we should leave.”

“I know,” he choked out, and ripped the sword from him before teleporting away in a flash of blue.


Having found Rin, Senji, and Hide, Shinichi had cautiously watched them from the trees as they halted – Shinichi realized that he’d snapped a branch underfoot. “I come in peace,” he announced, holding up his hands as he approached them, ready to fight back if they attacked. He didn’t recognize any of the three he was approaching, but that might have been because of the dark.

“Who’s talkin’?” growled the tallest of the three – a warning.

“I don’t want to fight. I’m Shinichi Izumi, from Group 4. Can I ask who you are…?”

The tallest grunted, but the one that Shinichi could tell had bleached blond hair began to grin. “I’m Hideyoshi Nagachika, but you can call me Hide.”

“Ya wanna alliance, or do you wanna back off?” asked Senji lowly.

“I’d like an alliance,” Shinichi said tentatively. It seemed these three were all new players. “I can tell… Um, are you guys new to the game? Maybe I can help you out… What group were you guys put in?”

“Group 5,” said Hide.

Group 5… Isn’t that, Kuroha’s…?

“Alright, if you want an alliance, that sounds good,” the tallest shrugged. The other two knew it was the best option at this point, and so no one disagreed. “I’m Senji Kiyomasa. Senji’s fine.”

“Rin Tohsaka,” Rin said bluntly. “Who else is in your group?”

“I have only one other, and he’s a young boy by the name of Ciel Phantomhive.”

“How young?” Senji squinted.

“I think… he’s twelve or thirteen?”

“Oh, wow.” He rubbed the back of his head. “Nice.”

“I’m sorry to press, but if we could… I’d like to head back to him as quickly as possible. I don’t like leaving him alone… not, in a game like this.”

“You left him alone?” cried Rin.

“Welp, let’s head towards him,” Senji said quickly. “Where’s he at?”

“Here, follow me,” said Shinichi, and began to lead them, keeping close tabs on all of their actions. “We can better establish what our alliance means come sunrise. For now, we all need a place to rest. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” Rin sighed.

But when the loud sound of trees splintering came from up ahead, Shinichi froze. No. He sped up the pace, the three he’d just met sensing the urgency and jogging along with him. By the time Shinichi could see vaguely the outlines of two people against the moon, still almost full… The partial parasite found himself running faster and faster through the trees until the sound of the revolver going off resounded in his brain. He tried to cry out to Ciel, but Senji was on him in an instant, covering his mouth and holding him back along with Rin while Hide put a hand on his back, perhaps out of comfort. Shinichi watched as what remained of Ciel was desecrated by Yato – he couldn’t tell whether the young earl had even hit the god from where he stood, but he knew that this was overkill. Clutching at his chest, he struggled to breathe. This is… my fault, he thought quietly, and fell to his knees, barely noticing the flash of blue ahead as Yato left. Around him, the three strangers stood silent, unable to utilize any words. There were none to say. All was lost. Shinichi noted that, even now, he couldn’t shed a single tear.

So it goes.

 

Chapter 44: Revival

Chapter Text

 

It was a quiet night when the sun first set. The day ended early for Group 6, as Twelve was too exhausted to keep up with everyone else. He assured the others that he would be up to pace soon enough, but Akise insisted that they rest in a clothing shop nearby for the night. Izaya agreed with him in sweet tones after the boy detective inquired whether the idea was alright with the informant.

Izaya was in a mood to get above everyone else, out into the open air. He longed to be in the city, standing atop a tall building with the gusting air refreshing him once more. Alas, he was only in a two-story building, and now wasn’t a good time to go on a walk.

In choosing a place to rest, Izaya had chosen to be apart from everyone else, as he liked it. Twelve quickly crashed, and was already dead asleep. Suzuya and Akise were both settled in already while Izaya was scribbling notes in his new and improved information papers. Celty was sitting in a chair by the front windows of the store, on first watch. She had insisted she wasn’t too tired from her game, and she preferred being on first watch anyway. Her leg was bouncing in vague irritation that Izaya was still up, using a small lamp he’d taken from another store and plugging it in to an outlet on a nearby wall. He was on his stomach, feet kicking in the air as he wrote.

Celty seemed to breathe a sigh, even though she had no head to do so. She then got to her feet, walking over to Izaya while tapping a message into her phone. Suzuya peered at her from underneath his pillow (found at another store), and Akise glanced at her curiously. The boy detective was lying on his back, looking through his own little journal. It pissed Izaya off – that was his ‘weapon,’ huh…?

[You should turn off the light and try to rest.] Izaya looked up into this message from Celty with some amusement. He gave her a wry grin, and she began tapping again. [I’m sure the others want to sleep.]

“Twelve seems quite content with my use of this lamp.”

[12 is already sleeping!] She had one hand on her hip – the phantom one.

“Fine, fine…” Izaya gave in with a shrug, switching off the light.

Celty’s helmet nodded in approval. [Thank you, Izaya.]

Izaya snickered in glee. “Even a thank you; this is great,” he scoffed, settling himself on the ground.

In the dark, Akise slipped his journal under his pillow while Suzuya… kept his head under his pillow. The boy detective gazed through the dark with rose eyes, contemplating the reality of this game with his head resting on his hands, folded neatly behind his cranium. Sighing lightly, he closed his eyes.

“It’s too bad this city is empty,” Izaya commented.

“Too many casualties would occur, and this game would last forever,” Akise answered easily.

“Eh,” Izaya shrugged. “Wonder where Twelve’s balloon ended up.”

“Maybe it’s free,” Suzuya mumbled darkly.

“Maybe,” said Akise. “If it is, that would mean there’s a hole in the barrier.”

“Yeah,” Suzuya said shortly.

“Hm, goodnight, Suzuya-kun; Celty-san… Izaya-san.”

“‘Night,” said the CCG officer.

Izaya clicked his tongue. He’d been a little more sporadic interacting with his group after their confrontation with Roppi, and even Izaya knew it. He just found himself jumping around from one trivial thing to the next – there wasn’t a moment of distinctly serious conversation amongst any of them. Izaya caught Akise about to bring something up a few times, but after cutting him off three times or so, the fourteen-year-old took the hint and went along with the light conversation.

But now Izaya wasn’t dancing anymore. There was no one to dance with, and as the sun set, the silence came with it. Strangely, he found it deafening.

He reached to his side, touching the hilt of Yoh’s crimson blade. “Hm…” He began to smile. “Maybe I should come up with a name for this sword. A fun one.” He didn’t mask his voice at all to match the silence. He heard someone shift, and he smiled in delight. “What do you guys think?”

He heard Celty’s foot tapping on the ground in irritation.

“I named my scythe Jason,” remarked Suzuya, poking his head out from under his pillow. “Didja know, I’m the ‘Jason’ of the CCG?” He giggled in that off way of his.

“Are you?” Izaya grinned. “Why’s that; ruthless? Probably got a hefty death count, right?”

“Yeahh… Ghouls aren’t that hard to kill.” The kid sounded like he was grinning right back.

“Huh. So you’re a monster after all, eh, Suzu-chan?”

“Ah?”

He heard Celty stand up, and Izaya quickly continued. “It’s surely a cool weapon you’ve got there, though. I’m almost jealous, but someone like me hasn’t handled such a scythe before. You’re better off with it than me. I prefer knives, to be honest. Just, not for killing. That’s too dirty a job for me.”

“Ohh, I used to use knives, but this is way better,” he assured Izaya, and the informant laughed.

“Well then, if you have Jason, I wonder – what should I name this one, hm? Curious~”

“Dunno,” the other answered.

Chuckling, he listened to Celty sitting back down. I bet that sword is one of the few weapons that can off Yato, hm? Celty’s scythe, definitely. Maybe Suzu-chan’s. We’re totally equipped to do him in! He burst into tight laughter. Running his fingers gently over the sharpened side of the blade and feeling the beautiful curvatures and designs inlaid into the metalloid itself, Izaya grinned at the weapon in glee through the dark. He still hadn’t laid down. I suppose… “Hm. What about ‘the Prophet’?” It can kill Shinki… It might even be able to kill demons; kill gods. Since it’s mine, now… “Akise-kun likened me to Isaiah, didn’t he? I think it’s fitting.”

Suddenly, he felt something smack him in the back of the head, and his laughter was cut off. “—Ah?”

Searching the ground, he found the culprit: a shoe. Blinking, he turned to look behind him with a grin to see Celty’s phone screen in his face again. [Go to sleep.]

“Is that an order?” he beamed, smiling a closed-eye smile and restraining himself from laughing again. “I can’t believe you threw a shoe at me!”

[Just be quiet.]

“Okay, all you had to do was ask,” he said easily, and she went back to her post with much annoyance. Her intervention was punctuated with the chortling of Akise.

Izaya glanced over at him with a lopsided smile, and the store was blanketed in the quiet again. He listened to the shifting around him as he lay on his back, fingers folded over his stomach. Smile dissipating, he stared coolly through the near-black of the shadows they slept in. Hey, Shizu-chan, he thought. Are you mad…?

Was he comfortable here? Absolutely. His mouth twitched. Kaneki’s and Seidou’s groups… I wonder how they’re faring. I’m curious as to whether Roppi-san and Shintaro-kun made it back. To think, Roppi-san started acting on his own like that—funny… I wonder, what’s that foolish god doing right this moment? I bet he’ll only dig his grave further… Funny to watch. I get to witness a god fall from grace—no, I may have aided in pushing him over that edge! Unable to control his mirth, he held his hand over his mouth as his shoulders shook with silent laughter. Because… it’s not like—he’d be so interesting this way.

Soon, his humor faded, and he was left lying on his back, staring nowhere with a hollow expression. Interestingly… before… we had been a relatively… effective group.

Shizuo and Yukine had been the ones that disagreed with him the worst. Yukine adorably would scold Izaya and Shizuo as if it were they that were the children. Shizuo’s deep loathing for Izaya wasn’t anything new. They fought all the time – but to work alongside him the whole way! The informant was amazed they managed at all. Of course he knew why… But that didn’t stop him from taunting them throughout. The only one that didn’t get mad typically was Yato himself. No, Yato and him were the ones laughing. It was so easy to poke and prod at Shizuo and Yukine, and Yato would add on to the mischief as if they’d been partners in crime. Ironically, he and the god got along very well.

Are we alike? he wondered. I’d say so. But… no, there was still a difference he had from me, he thought, thinking of when he watched as Shizuo and Yukine both tried their best to tend to the injured Yato just after he’d faced the Gourmet. No, just like Shizuo… he still had others flock to him. He saw Yato wielding Nora, his voice rising in the roar of a god, as Twelve put it. …Well, that’s not true anymore. Now both of us are monsters.

He became aware of the crimson blade at his side. He watched Yukine collapse, body sliced cleanly into two pieces. I… Yato was shouting accusations at him in the traditional household, the moonlight bathing them in silver. Why didn’t I… He was slicing and stabbing at Yoh’s abdomen with his switchblade, sending him to his knees. …stop him?

It was odd. For once, Izaya didn’t have an answer. It gave him an uncomfortable feeling in his chest. He decided not to think about it. And he didn’t.

I didn’t sleep last night…, he thought to himself. I haven’t slept much at all through this whole game. Breathing a grudging sigh, he rolled his eyes. I should probably try and sleep, if only for a little while. Otherwise, it’ll negatively affect how well I function. Eyes closing, he sighed. This entire game… is very troublesome.

Despite his agreement with himself that he would sleep, he kept catching himself and jolting back to reality, eyes opening momentarily only to see that nothing had changed. It was only once he was sure that Suzuya and Akise were most certainly asleep by then that he began to drift a little easier. Sleep took him slowly. He wasn’t a person to sleep often—it was inconvenient anyway.

But eventually, Izaya fell into a restless slumber that greeted him with flickering images of his mind’s eye. Such dreams weren’t always so welcoming. They were haunted by paranoia and the faces of the dead or damned. It was himself, it was Roppi. It was Yukine, it was Shizuo. It was silence; too quiet, too quiet—deafening.

His greatest enemy, Shizuo Heiwajima, had that gentle look on his face. Izaya hated it. He hated it. No expression like that was meant for Izaya, what was this? Mockery. Mockery. And his eyes, just staring, not seeing. He could still feel the gaze. No reaction. No response; no matter how Izaya prodded and laughed about it. There was nothing; nothing at all. That part was the worst. Where was the hate? The shouting? The comebacks, the fight, the fire? Stop ignoring me.

There was a roaring to his insides, the atmosphere blighted with the feeling that something was wrong—

Izaya jerked awake, instinctively grabbing the switchblade beneath his pillow and holding it up to any danger that might exist within arm’s reach. The culprit backed off instantly with a nervous laugh. Izaya stared at the figure, not comprehending. Reality was still sinking in and taking shape around him. Yeah, he was with his group in the store for the night. He found that the hand holding the knife was trembling, if slightly. His breathing was heavy. As he made sense of the world around him, he found it was Twelve before him. His mouth twitched. He tried to smile. It didn’t work. Izaya was scrambling to regain his composure, but it wasn’t working.

Twelve rubbed the back of his head, a huge grin stretching ear-to-ear. “Sorry,” he whispered.

Izaya could only stare at him. His ears were ringing.

“Paranoid? Makes sense. Uh… you can put that away,” the terrorist informed him, and Izaya’s eyes narrowed slightly. The switchblade was flicked shut, and the informant pocketed it warily. “Didn’t mean to freak you out,” Twelve said apologetically. “I’m on watch now, and, well… I heard you getting a little restless and figured you were having a nasty nightmare. My partner has those a lot. I bet you don’t get the same kind, but… you know.” He shrugged.

By now Izaya’s breathing had steadied. Now he just sat, curled in his blanket, watching Twelve closely.

“You’d understand him pretty well,” the other continued.

I’d understand just about anyone pretty well, Izaya answered voicelessly.

“I mean, I know you understand ‘people’ well, but I mean, on a personal level. He’s a purely logical kind of person, and I can tell you like logic. My partner and I kinda balance each other out in that way. But… you know, even though both of you have your similarities, I have to say you’re definitely different. I’ve been thinking about it—trying to figure you out, you know. I’ve been slowly piecing it together, but you’re a toughie, I’ve gotta admit. I wonder what lies behind those cold eyes of yours—”

“Be quiet.” The retort was clipped and chilled. Izaya was almost surprised with himself, but then decided he didn’t care.

“…Hm…” Twelve shifted. “Sorry, I’ll back off. For now. Don’t think you’re off the hook or anything. Buuut, I do have a question for ya, if you’d care to answer.”

Izaya frowned at him. “…Hah?”

The terrorist smiled a warm smile.  “Do you think the world will end in fire, or in ice?”

The informant was befuddled. An intriguing question, he supposed. Not what he expected, for sure. The fact it threw him off both irritated him and quelled him all at once. Twelve was mute, waiting for a response. Izaya didn’t like the quiet. He thought about the world’s end. How did he think it would come to its demise? An interesting speculation. He imagined some form of war, but… “Isn’t that a trick question, Twelve?” Izaya answered, tilting his head. He successfully brought a wry smile to his face. “I see the world ending in a fiery war… but the war I imagine is built on a foundation of hatred. Vengeance—you know. The iciest of human emotions. You can’t have one without the other.”

“I agree,” Twelve smiled. “For me… Take the greatest fire you could ever imagine. Even if the entire world was burning… after it’s done… It’s like the sun, once it sets it’s all dark. Even if the world burned, in the end it would all turn dark and cold. Nothing but ashes, right?” He laughed lightly; quietly. Their conversation was hushed. “Thank you, by the way,” he added.

“Hah? What’s that about, Twelve?” Izaya quirked an eyebrow in the dark.

“You’ve given probably the most interesting answer yet. But…” He shrugged. “The truth is… maybe the end of the world is really just everyone’s own ending. And that can be anything, depending on who someone is. How they die… Even then, though, I feel like fire and ice would have to be enmeshed. If you freeze to death, you feel like you’re burning. If you burn alive, there comes a point where you feel nothing but coldness. Pretty amazing how that works.”

“…Hm.”

“Hm?” He looked at Izaya curiously.

“You… are an interesting person, too,” the information broker commented with amusement.

“Maybe you’re not used to someone speaking to you on your level of intelligence,” Twelve suggested, and Izaya stifled his laughter at such a remark.

“Maybe,” he conceded.

“I have another question, by the way,” said Twelve, and Izaya looked over to him. He was admittedly glad that Twelve kept talking to him. It was… giving him something to do. It would be boring just lying there, you know. “Izaya, have you ever been alone in a crowded room?”

“Hah? How do you mean?” Izaya questioned in return.

“I’ve been thinking about your eyes, and why it is I don’t understand them. Suzuya doesn’t like them, I know, and I can see where he’s coming from with that. I can’t see inside them, myself, which makes you even more interesting to me. But unlike Suzuya… I kinda like the way they look. They’re familiar, but I couldn’t figure out why. I thought of it while I was asleep, actually. See, there’s Suzuya… me, and my partner… and those kids I used to know. All of them have the eyes of somebody that’s been shut out from the world. I somehow feel like Celty would have those eyes too, if I could see them. But yours are always so guarded, I can’t tell a single thing. What I figure, well, what if you weren’t shut out from the world… but you shut yourself out?” Izaya didn’t have an answer, but Twelve kept going anyway. “I don’t see it as ‘bad.’ Maybe you were shut out, and then you chose to stay there; I don’t know. Whatever the case, I respect the decision anyway. But I know what it feels like on the outside, always looking in. Maybe I’m used to it now, and watching everyone below me, I can admit I’m satisfied. But even if I’m alone in a crowded room, so to speak, I have my partner, so it’s kind of okay, you know? I’m not a solo kind of guy, and because of that, I’d never leave his side. That’s why I got to make it back to him – because I know we don’t have much time left in the first place…

“I like to think of it this way, Izaya. Each of us has a life, see, and all of us are just sparks. Together, we can burn bright, but alone… we’re only sparks, you know? I mean, it only takes a spark to start a fire, but at the same time…” Twelve shook his head. “Well, anyway… seeing the world in that observer’s perspective; I know it’s kinda lonely.” Mouth ever upturned, he put a hand to his chest. “But… a heart can never be open until it breaks, and even if a heart is missing a piece… it can still beat.”

Izaya laughed a low, cruel laugh. “Twelve, you’re fighting to connect to the people around you thinking it will bring you something good. The ties of the heart, your version of ‘love’… it’s only going to tie you down. You’re better off not being close to anyone.” His mouth spread a thin smile across his features, cold eyes narrowing. “It becomes your weakness.”

But Twelve, leaning back on his palms, contemplated this and answered with a simple, “…Huh.” He touched his chin thoughtfully. “See, my partner, he told me the same thing,” he informed Izaya. “And you know…” He smiled at the information broker slyly. “He still had me.” There was a pause, and the terrorist looked up to the ceiling above him. “Izaya, I really don’t think I’d mind being a puppet if it meant being connected to somebody else.”

Izaya blinked, then frowned. This sounded uncannily familiar to him. He thought of middle school days spent with an oddball wearing spectacles and a lab coat.

“I mean, without at least one string holding me up,” admitted Twelve, “I’m almost positive I’d lose my balance, here… Hm. You could argue that it’s different because I’m the same as him, my partner, but even those who know only loneliness long for a hand to hold. Even those born in the dark long for the light. Even those who are comfortable as they fall still pray for a savior. ‘Inhuman’ or ‘human,’ loved or objectified, shut out or not, we’re all just people in that way. Take that for what you will.” Satisfied, Twelve got to his feet, stretching. “I’m going back over to the window. Sleep well, Izaya. Don’t worry, I’ll throw something at ya if you start getting restless,” he winked. “Wouldn’t want you caught in a nightmare.”

Izaya’s mouth twitched. “Goodnight, Twelve.”

Laughing lightly, Twelve got onto his seat, leaving Izaya behind in his shadowed silence. Somehow, the informant got the impression he wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep either way. Such an action seemed very unappealing at the moment.


The playing field was cast in shadow as the clouds spotting the sky joined forces, blurring out the moon. Scattered over the field, there were yet more than twenty living players in-game. There came a point in the night where all had died down, regardless of how restless the players were under their skins. Twenty-eight lifeless bodies littered the grounds, thirty when taking into consideration the parasite Migi, crumbled to dust, and the demon Sebastian, purged and purified by Yato. The players still in-game were sleeping amongst the dead.

There was but one that had been selected among the deceased to be revived by the game masters. Shintaro and Roppi, who were the only living players to know about such a decision, had no clear idea on who it was that could possibly be brought back from the dead. Each had their own hopes; their own purposes. They didn’t talk about it.

The revived awoke at approximately four o’clock in the morning, lashes fluttering, hazy eyes opening in dim perplexity. They felt as though they’d awoken like this a million times… but they couldn’t conjecture why. Somehow they figured this time was far different than the rest.

The boy began to piece together that he was curled forward, head on the ground with one hand beneath his chest, the other resting above his head. He felt as though he’d been asleep for ages. Shifting to sit up and finding his legs were curled beneath him, a sharp pain stabbed through his chest, sending him back down, hacking and heaving with his hands catching what felt like phlegm. He knew it wasn’t. Grimacing, he rested his head back on the ground as the rest of his non-fatal injuries made their finishing repairs. “…H…urts…,” he choked out, gasping for air.

He didn’t know how long he lay curled forward on the grass like that, but eventually, the pain subsided, and hesitantly, he lifted his head. Blinking at his surroundings, he felt the grass was uncomfortably thick – he thought maybe it was himself that was all over the ground. Swallowing in discomfort, he looked down at himself, feeling his chest. “I’m better… And…” His clothing… It was white… yellow. Am I, me again? He looked around, slowly getting to his feet. He found a pink-handled gun at his feet and inspected it, picking it up in his hand and turning it over. “…Ah…” That’s right… I…?

The memory flickered to life in his fragmented mind, and he blinked strawberry eyes as he processed. “Is this, what that person used?” he asked nobody softly, brow furrowed as he stared at the firearm, thinking of a certain purple gourmet that he just couldn’t recall the name of. “Did that… Was it all… real…?” The thought frightened him. As terrible as his memory was, he could remember vividly a few faces; the faces of the ones his body had killed – why had he done that? Why did it move on its own? Speak on its own?

He remembered waking up to see the crow demon; that was right. He found out that he couldn’t control himself, and it scared him. But the blond boy with his hair over his eye… and the purple person, yeah. They were nice. Where’d they go, again…?

Looking down at his hands, he saw he was trembling. His face felt warm and wet. The blond one, his feet had crushed him. It was horrific. His throat had been laughing, but inside he’d been screaming for his body to stop. “H…how… c-could I… forget…?” He looked with horror to the house in front of him. Stepping into the still-open door, his black boots detailed with yellow arrows made footsteps that he felt were a little bit too loud. Upon entry of the living room, he found him – the blond boy… his name… It was…?

He approached the dead and collapsed at his side. The cadaver was contorted and missing an arm, its head twisted at an odd angle. “I didn’t mean to hurt anybody… I didn’t want to… All of it… it wasn’t just a dream… I…” He closed his eyes. …It hurts, I think… This place seems so… dangerous. That purple man… thank you for… His luminescent pink orbs opened. But… how am I here, alive? I… think I’m alive, anyway… He looked at the fallen and bowed his head slightly in respect before getting to his feet again. What name did they call me…? ‘Kuroha’… Not my name. Now, I can be… Konoha again. The android left the building – he didn’t like it in there.

“The purple gourmet… and Shintaro. I need to find them. I need to take care… of them. And say sorry.” Stepping into the dark with glowing strawberry eyes, Konoha wandered through the field in hopes of finding a friend.


There were twenty-eight players in-game, including Konoha, and a majority of them were sleeping. With slumber comes dreams. A darkness settled upon such a realm.

Underground, Aureus’s mouth twitched as he watched the screen, pinching the crooked bridge of his nose. “Konoha; he’s up… When he reunites with Shintaro – that’ll be cute. But… With Konoha… Bringing someone back comes with a price, Shintaro…”

Eerily radiating crimson orbs opened in the black.

“…So now… As an adverse effect of Konoha coming back, consequently…”

A serpent, black and exhuming a horrible chill.

Aureus looked to the screen tentatively to see where it was the ‘adverse effect’ popped up. He didn’t want to look, but he did. “…Not him,” he murmured, biting his knuckle as he leaned forward.

Kiritsugu stood before the serpent, wading in a thick black mist that reached his hips. The snake coiled itself comfortably as the Magus Killer made an attempt to figure out where he was. His shift was over, and he’d taken his time to rest. What a strange dream this was, though…

Hello, the crimson-eyed snake greeted, eyes glimmering with satisfaction.

“What are you?” Kiritsugu asked plainly, his tone flat as ever.

I have no name, the serpent answered him, lifting its head as if to address him. But I was summoned here by your strong wish… What is it you most desire?

Kiritsugu was slightly taken aback by such a question, straightening his posture further. He remained on-guard. The Magus Killer thought of the Holy Grail: a device meant to grant a single wish to whoever succeeded in winning the Holy Grail War.

The serpent swayed back and forth in pleasure. Yes, it’s just as you’re thinking. The ‘Holy Grail’ you’re thinking of. I am a bit like that… but you don’t have to kill anyone else to get to me. I am here, called not by your successful bloodshed but by the intensity of your wish. If you just speak it to me, I can grant it.

Kiritsugu took a cautious step forward. It was a tempting offer. He remained impassive as he went through his options in his head. His most powerful wish, huh? There was only one: imagine, a world of peace. Time and time again, he would kill to save. He sacrificed the few for the many. But in the end, it got nowhere. The only way to achieve such an ideal… such a beautiful world… he would need to use something like the Holy Grail. Something like… this snake?

Memories surfaced of youthful aspirations to become a hero of justice. Such a thing couldn’t exist in a world like this. Even if he were to sacrifice himself, if it meant a peaceful world, then he…

The serpent seemed to smile, waiting patiently for him to speak his wish. That’s right…

Yes… that’s right… Kiritsugu closed his eyes. His mind was lulled into a sense of security. What was the choice that was ‘right’? What was the morality? Who was this serpent? “What kind of price am I dealing with, here?” Kiritsugu inquired seriously.

In order to grant such a powerful wish, I would have to use you as my vessel to do so. You shouldn’t worry about me betraying your trust, for I am bound by my entire existence to follow the wish you give me. I swear that the wish I grant will be fulfilled. I need only your body.

Kiritsugu’s dead eyes looked somewhere far-off. There was only more darkness beyond. For me to sacrifice myself for the cause, I can’t say I’d mind… Sacrificing the few for the many – if I can save the world by sacrificing myself… To not accept, it would be hypocrisy.

…That’s right, agreed the serpent. Its eyes were crescents, expressing its serpentine grin. Then, tell me…!

“…My, wish…” Kiritsugu looked down. Such a thing, what were the possibilities of negative consequence…? He hesitated. Something seemed off.

The serpent leaned forward in anticipation, and Kiritsugu looked at it with soulless eyes, opened his mouth, and—

(“No, no, no, no, no!” Aureus slammed his fist on his desk. “Fuck this! This is bull!”)

—Kiritsugu’s grey eyes flickered to life. The serpent was grinning at him in dark seduction of his ideologies. The man thought of his wife and child, of his subordinate. He thought of the teacher he’d lost long ago. His first friend, who he’d watched get possessed by the transformation into a ghoul. All of the past, every sweet and painful moment culminated in his mind until it brought him into this moment of the present, and he looked at the serpent before him, waiting eagerly for his answer. Before him was the picture of his Dream. Before him, he saw what his hopes of world peace would come to: to sacrifice the few for the many – he saw the world on fire; he saw everything he knew falling to ruins because the only way to find that ultimate peace was through utter destruction. The purging of the majority of the human race. Suddenly, the serpent was not a golden treasure, but an enticing demon luring him into the creation of Hell on Earth.

“…Liar.”

…Hm? The serpent stared at him, not understanding.

“I don’t want what you have to offer.” He looked down on the snake with disgust. “I’d sooner destroy you, Demon!” At the statement, the dream shattered, and Kiritsugu’s eyes flew open. He had no idea the time. His grey eyes stared in shock at the ceiling above him. He could hear his heart thudding in his ears. …Curious. His expression grew sad. …That dream; it’s… He closed his eyes and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the hospital bed. …I know what I need to do.

As the Magus Killer got to his feet, Aureus released a relieved sigh underground, surrounded by his dim yellow lighting. “…Holy cow…” A ringing sound pierced the peaceful softness of his little underground office. He looked at his old-fashioned phone, smiling knowingly as he answered. “Yeah, Muse?”

“What was that just now?” Muse answered, tone sickeningly sweet.

Aureus grinned. He was totally right. “What was what just now? I dunno what you’re talking about.”

“Yes you do…”

“Maybe.” He stuck out his tongue, even though he knew Muse couldn’t see it.

“You interfered with—”

“No. No! I don’t want to hear it!” Aureus cried. “No! No. I’m done! And don’t even try to tell me that was not justified, because Kiritsugu – of course he should take that perfect moment to represent that recognition of what Kuroha really is! He faces the Holy Grail in the future, and even though he’s tempted, he sees it for what it truly is, and you know what? He rejects it! He tries to freaking demolish it! He has always taken the moral high road – even though he’s probably the worst possible failure of all time, he really, really tries!”

“He rejects it after a point. It takes a moment,” Muse answered calmly. “You know who else represents ‘justice’?”

“…Seidou?” Aureus asked flatly.

“Light Yagami,” they sounded like they were smiling. “Aureus, symbolism doesn’t always have to represent something purely ‘positive.’”

“I know that,” he hissed, rubbing at his forehead. “But that’s not right.

“Don’t interfere, Aureus, or you may not be too pleased with the consequences—”

“I dunno, I thought it was pretty cool that we got to bring back Konoha and all, but whatever,” he shrugged. “The Harrowing Blade should be great fun for ya, and Yukiteru and A-ya still haven’t used their items either… You can’t tell me that’s not fucking awesome. No!”

The line was silent.

Aureus sniffed. “And besides, I get bored down here without any company. Maybe if I could go up with the others I’d be less dangerous down here, you know?”

“You know as well as I do that symbolism is something that remains hidden, underlying the surface of a work.”

“I know, I know…” He rolled his eyes. “But you're forgetting something, Muse… There’s still someone that even you have to take orders from… And if they want something, you can’t change it no matter what you do… you know?”

He heard a tsk on the other end of the line, and then a click. He snickered. “Muse hung up on me,” he said in amazement, then laughed breathlessly, leaning back in his chair and running both of his hands through his hair, tugging at it restlessly. “…Guess I was right, huh…?” He grinned, rubbed at his eyes, and went back to watching his screens, exceedingly pleased with himself.

“Celty… Yukiteru… A-ya… Shintaro… Eh, Roppi, too… I’m rootin’ for ya, guys. Please make it.”

 

Chapter 45: In Time

Chapter Text

 

“Who’s that?” Yukiteru inquired, looking down the street at his group’s right and pausing in walking along. The sun was only just beginning to rise, but it was now that Roy, L, and Minene had agreed was the best to head out. First, they would head south. As of right now, they were still in the residential area, but from what Yukiteru remembered, they were nearly to the park’s forest.

“What is it?” L tilted his head, trying to see what Yukiteru meant.

Minene was squinting in the direction that Yukiteru was looking. “I don’t see anything,” she frowned.

“If there are intruders, I’ll take care of them if they mean any harm,” Roy said matter-of-factly.

“I… might be just paranoid,” Yukiteru admitted, looking back only to see that the figure was even closer now, standing only a few houses away with a casual countenance and hands in their pockets. Yukiteru backed up. “A-ya… A-ya, you see that, right?”

“I don’t see anything,” A-ya said, bemusedly rubbing at one of his eyes. He ended up not getting any sleep at all the night before. He’d almost nodded off a few times, but he always caught himself. It wasn’t like he’d never pulled an all-nighter before. …It was just the first time it was two nights in a row. “A ghost?” he suggested, sounding vaguely excited.

Yukiteru smiled a bit. There was the reference to the occult that he so loved. Surely A-ya was back now. But still, that figure…

“Shinigami?” L mused. “No…perhaps the wrong realm for that. Curious. There’s something to think about.”

“What’s that?” asked Roy.

“In regards to something supernatural,” said L, “even if it were that spirits existed in A-ya’s realm or Shinigami in my own… it doesn’t necessarily mean that spirits manifest in my realm, or vice versa.”

A-ya nodded, intrigued. “Who knows what sorts of legends the game masters would have heard growing up…”

“It’s an interesting thought… Although, it was never said that this was even the home realm of the game master,” L pointed out. “If they can bring all of us here, then there’s no reason they can’t head elsewhere themselves.”

“…Huh,” remarked Roy, thinking on this. “That’s certainly interesting.”

“That it is…,” L agreed, and A-ya made a noise of agreement.

“I guess,” Minene rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. “We’re not exactly dealing with occult here.”

“Could be,” Rika said softly, brow furrowed. “Ah…”

“I seriously don’t think that this has to do with anything supernatural,” Yukiteru said nervously. “Do you guys… really not see anything?” He looked at them again.

“No, nothing,” Roy answered, looking everywhere across the street that Yukiteru might be looking at. “Although if anything happens, I will make sure to blow them up.” He flashed a thumbs-up at him.

“In this situation, Yukiteru-kun, the good news is that we certainly believe you,” said L. “Being here at all is very strange and unreal, so it’s not a far stretch of the imagination to believe that there is a being over there that only you can see.”

“Uh… yeah, I guess so…”

“I think you’re shitting me,” Minene said matter-of-factly, patting him on the back. “Probably just too paranoid or something. That happens, y’know.”

“Ah—” Yukiteru’s mouth twitched.

“Maybe you’re being haunted,” A-ya remarked. “Not sure why they’d haunt you, though.”

The thought of C-ta trying to kill him again struck him, and Yukiteru began to tremble. Then he thought of Yuno following him even from the grave in some distorted quest to protect him. He felt unwell. “I… I don’t know that I…like the idea of being haunted, A-ya.” He looked back to where the figure had been and yelped, promptly sitting down on the ground. The figure was now only at the other end of the front yard they were in. In the sunlight, Yukiteru could see that he wore a dark blue hoodie with a purple collared shirt beneath it. Dark jeans, sneakers, and a green-and-white baseball cap. His hair was dark brown; reminiscent of Yukiteru’s own hair, swept to the side. As this boy smiled at Yukiteru, he adjusted a pair of glasses on his face. “I’m crazy,” Yukiteru whispered. “If you guys don’t see that, I am hallucinating and I am going to go insane…” Thinking of the way Keiichi had snapped; the way C-ta had snapped… he didn’t want to go the same way. The thought terrified him, in fact. “I think we should go inside,” Yukiteru said tightly, forcing himself to look away from the mysterious teenaged boy that apparently only he could see.

“Inside where?” Minene huffed.

“I—I mean maybe we don’t have to stop already – bad idea – but we should like—get moving really, really fast,” Yukiteru answered, voice taut.

“Agreed,” Roy nodded curtly. “If it’s something to worry about, we shouldn’t just be standing still. Come on, everyone.”

“O-kay~” Rika said happily, walking beside Minene and Roy happily. L followed along with them, but Yukiteru remained, swallowing nervously.

A-ya touched him on the shoulder, and he jumped. “Ah… er, yeah, A-ya?”

 “Are you… okay?” he asked, tentative.

“I…think so,” Yukiteru said, shaking his head. “I mean, other than being really freaked out, I don’t feel any different, so…” He shrugged tensely.

“Well, we’ll be careful anyway. You never know in this place,” A-ya said. “C’mon, we don’t want to be left behind.”

He nodded, and A-ya walked on after them.

Yukiteru watched him, and was very much tempted to look behind him again, where the figure was. He resisted the urge, however, and swallowed before heading after them. It’s just a hallucination. He isn’t real. He isn’t real. He isn’t real… He felt as though any moment something would grab him—

“Time is perceived differently by everyone,” said someone behind him, and Yukiteru jumped and wheeled around to see the boy right in front of him. He gasped, about to respond out of fear, but the boy with the glasses simply clapped his hand over Yukiteru’s mouth. “If time is an illusion of perception, it only makes sense that everyone views time differently. One person’s minute can be much longer or shorter than the next person’s. It’s nice to meet you, Yukiteru.” He frowned slightly, then reached behind him, adjusting a backpack that Yukiteru hadn’t noticed at first. After reaching into the pocket of it, he yanked a pocket watch off of its chain, holding it up for Yukiteru to see. “I might’ve just dislocated my arm,” the boy remarked, and then stared Yukiteru down with wide purple eyes. “My name is Rodd. I am the timekeeper. The reason only you can see me is because I am currently residing in your perception of time, and only yours. I’m here because…eh.” He shrugged. “A mission is a mission. I’m here to fast-forward who you are, Yukiteru. Not too far; don’t worry. I could send you 10,000 years into the future if I really wanted to – I’m only going to send you forward a few months. I could basically kill you if I wanted, but I’m not a player of the game. I just need you to know a few of your future experiences. Kind of ironic, since you’re supposed to have a Future Diary and all.” Rodd seemed to relax a bit, narrowing his eyes again while Yukiteru clutched at the wrist of the hand that covered his mouth, fear plain in his shining blue eyes. “If I were to bring you too far ahead, you might kill A-ya… just like Keiichi tried to. Just like C-ta tried to. But don’t worry… I’m good at what I do.” He pressed the knob of the pocket watch with his thumb, and it clicked.

Yukiteru, with a burst of motivation, at last managed to shove Rodd’s hand away from his mouth. “I’d never hurt A-ya! I wouldn’t kill him, no matter what happened to me!”

“You wouldn’t know until you’re there, I guess,” Rodd shrugged, and closed the pocket watch – Yukiteru gasped as an influx of experience and memory flooded his mind. He lost touch with the ground beneath him, the world around him… The only thing that existed was what he was living through – the kid his mom babysat… the new school he went to – that’s right! The new school, a new place, new people… And he, Yukiteru… He saw brown locks of hair, short shorts and short shirts – pastel locks of lavender, a smiling face – a boy with silver hair who saved him, saying, “I’ve been investigating you for some time, Amano-kun…”

Gasping, Yukiteru realized he was on the ground, legs folded beneath him. Friends, he thought. I have friends… I made friends… I actually… Curling forward, his mouth upturned into an awestruck smile. I made—friends… His eyes began to water, he felt warm fluid riding his cheeks. I have someone to go home to after all… My, friends. Three of them… A bubbly girl named Hinata…the quiet girl named Mao… and… a nice boy named Akise. Even that old bully Kosaka is my friend now! All of them are… I… He closed his eyes. I wasn’t alone after all… He lifted his head, about to thank Rodd, only to find that he was gone. He blinked, still trying to return to reality. That felt like forever – surely the others would wonder what was taking him!

Hastily, Yukiteru wiped at his eyes, staggering to his feet. “…S…sorry, guys, wait! I’m coming!” He ran after them and staggered at his discovery that they were all right in front of him.

“What’re you goin’ on about?” Minene growled, waving him off.

Blinking, Yukiteru awkwardly rejoined the group, heart pounding.

A-ya looked curiously at Yukiteru. A-ya commented to him quietly, “You look disturbed. As in…more than before.”

“Um, thanks,” Yukiteru said, quirking an eyebrow. He considered the idea of telling A-ya about his friends. It was such an exciting revelation—he wanted the news to spill out! A-ya… to him, it still felt like A-ya was his first friend, whether he was a few months older now or not. Yeah, A-ya was his best friend. And friends can share stuff like that, right? Best friends shouldn’t get so jealous, like Yuno… Or—like C-ta.

“H…hey, A-ya,” he said excitedly, tapping his shoulder.

A-ya looked at him dully. “Mm?”

“I think it was—I think it was another game master,” he said urgently.

“Hah?!” Minene whirled around instantly. “What’s that about?”

“Ah—um—”

“A game master…” A-ya blinked wide red eyes. “Like…?” He left the question unfinished: ‘Like Aureus?’

Yukiteru nodded emphatically. By now the others were all looking at him.

“Anything about the game masters would be useful,” said L.

“Yes,” agreed Roy. “We’re still not accustomed to this game, but anything that can give us hints to the meaning of all this would be great.”

“Tryin’ ta hide it from us, kid?” Minene scowled, looking like she was about to punch him in the head, or maybe the face.

He shrunk beneath her glare, laughing nervously. “Um… no, I… Just, um…”

“I don’t suppose it was a bald asshole in a black hoodie,” said Minene, raising her eyebrows.

“Mm,” Rika nodded, brow furrowed.

“Um, bald? No… He had hair. He was wearing a hat, and he had glasses. Uhm, and a backpack. He looked kinda darkish-skinned, I guess? Um…”

“No, not the guy I’m thinking,” Minene said dismissively.

“Have you met a game master, Minene-san?” inquired L.

“Yeah, I guess,” she frowned. “Me, Rika, and one other girl – Saiko, I think? We were there when this guy showed up. Bald guy with a goatee; in his thirties, probably. Late twenties at the youngest. Total asshole.” She glared daggers into the distance for a few moments before she looked at Yukiteru again. “So, a guy with a hat?”

“Yeah, um, he said his name was Rodd…?” Yukiteru shrugged. “He said he was the timekeeper. And, see—”

“The timekeeper?” Minene repeated, and Yukiteru gave her a slightly exasperated look.

“Let him finish,” said Roy simply, and Minene frowned, crossing her arms.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Mr. Military.”

They glared at one another before eventually Roy looked at Yukiteru apologetically. “Please, continue.”

Yukiteru blinked a few times. “Um… yeah, so… timekeeper! He can control time, I guess? And he said something like ‘I’m going to fast-forward you to where you need to be,’ and—and I felt like I was stuck with him for ages… It was weird because I suddenly lived a few months of my regular life in an instant. The moment I realized what had happened, he was gone. I thought maybe you guys had gone on without me… but I don’t think… any time passed at all…” He scratched at his head, realizing how far-fetched it all sounded.

“Interesting,” Roy remarked, gloved hand to his chin. “I wonder… A timekeeper, huh? I guess that means… considering there’s another that Minene and Rika have seen… there are multiple game masters for certain. They must each be specialized in their own respective area of control.”

“I wonder what other sorts of specializations they each have…,” commented L, his wide, bulging eyes staring nowhere. “How many there are…”

“To be symbolic of symbolism would sure be interesting,” A-ya remarked drily, and Yukiteru gaped at him for saying such a thing despite Aureus’s warning…

A-ya noticed, looked back at him, and shrugged.

“Symbolism, huh…?” L mused distantly.

Yukiteru shook his head, pushing A-ya’s symbolism remark out of his mind. “But A-ya, it’s wonderful! I—I found out, I’m not so helpless after all… I… I made friends, isn’t that wonderful?”

Wide-eyed, A-ya blinked. “…Ah?”

“Yeah, I mean… you’re my first friend; like, I don’t think… I mean… to me, you’re my best friend… So…” He rubbed the back of his head awkwardly while Minene rolled her eyes at the scene and turned away to continue walking. Rika looked at her, unsure of whether to follow or not. “But—now I know, what it’s like to have—to have people! Like, there was Hinata, who was probably the most talkative and outgoing, you know? The fun one. I’m surprised she even talked to me, ‘cause I’d consider her to be ‘popular,’ you know…?”

A-ya stared blankly. B-ko…

“Mao was kinda weird, but she was funny and sweet even though she was kinda sneaky. I think she only sticks around because of Hinata, but that’s okay – it’s not like I mind—”

…D-ne…?

“And then there’s this soft-spoken one who’s just really nice – his name’s Akise. Maybe he seemed kinda suspicious at first, but really he just wants to make sure everyone’s okay. He’s actually very friendly once you know where he’s coming from…”

…And C-ta?

“…Er, I mean, I guess I’m kinda rambling a little, but I’m just so happy about this and I just—wanted to tell you because you’re my friend and it’s—I don’t know why, but I—uh… But wow, I just—I really wanna just—if I could, take you home and then we could all be a group of friends, and it would be great, wouldn’t it, A-ya?”

A-ya stared blankly into Yukiteru’s glimmering blue eyes, filled with joy. “I… yeah, I guess… I mean… Yes… I’d like… that.”

Roy shook his head. “Cute.”

“Eh?” Yukiteru looked at him.

“Well, we’ll have to get out of this ridiculous game first,” the military colonel said matter-of-factly.

“Indeed. We should continue on. I need shoes.” L looked down at his bare feet and wiggled his toes.

Yukiteru happily hooked arms with A-ya. “Yeah, let’s go!” A-ya yelped as the other hooked arms suddenly, and Yukiteru laughed joyously. “Let’s catch up with Ninth—I mean, Minene. Jerk ran on ahead—!” Bringing A-ya along with him, he ran.

“Ah—!” A-ya stumbled, then grudgingly ran alongside him. …‘First friend,’ huh…? A best friend… Me? He thought of C-ta and felt his stomach drop… but before him was Yukiteru, bantering with a terrorist like it was nothing. Strangely, A-ya thought his mouth might have worn a gentle smile.

Amused, Roy ran up after them, joining in the playful quarrel while remaining on-guard. Rika and L remained behind, Rika smiling a closed-eye smile and L staring with blank curiosity. “Friends,” he commented, and left it at that.


“I’d like to request that our group choose my special item, if there are no arguments,” said Kiritsugu to the other members of Group 1. By now the only ones who weren’t awake out of the allied groups were Saiko and Touka – Shirazu was still groggy, but was otherwise alert. Those awake were gathered in the hospital lobby, and Kaneki, Shirazu, and Light were all in front of Kiritsugu as they discussed such a thing.

In one of the chairs sat Seidou, elbow on the arm of the chair with his cheek resting on his palm. He closed his eyes, sighing. He’d decided already that he’d refrain from making any decisions in regards to the items pillar until at least Shintaro made it back. He wondered whether he was okay… He wished he could do something

“I see no problem with this,” Light shrugged. “I don’t need my item.” He looked to Kaneki and Shirazu.

“Well, I ain’t pickin’ mine,” said Shirazu, “and Kane-kun already said he didn’t wanna risk going backwards in time, ‘cause that… would kinda suck.” He scratched at his orange-haired scalp. “…Yeah.”

Kaneki nodded in concurrence. “I appreciate that you asked… Thank you, Kiritsugu.”

The Magus Killer bowed his head before he turned to look to the sulking brunette in the chair nearby. “Seidou.”

“Mm?” The officer snapped out of his own thoughts, blinking a few times. His brow furrowed when he saw it was Kiritsugu who had addressed him. “Um, yeah, Kiritsugu?”

“I want to thank you for last night’s conversation,” the assassin said to him seriously, stepping towards him.

Seidou could only stare at him, dumbfounded. “…You’re… welcome?”

“I’m farther along than you in life. My dreams are hollow, and me… I’m already rotten.”

Light perked up, expression one of intrigue.

“Your passion is strong yet, Seidou. You still have the hope before you – your dreams are not corrupt. You are still young… Me, it’s too late for me to become a hero.” A smile touched the assassin’s lips. “…But there’s no saying what you might be able to do, even if my hope is gone. If I were to ask one thing of you… it’s to hold onto that dream. You are capable of more than you think.”

Seidou was rigid; he felt his face flush as the attention was drawn to him in such a way. He wanted to be proud, but all he felt was flustered. Hastily, he got to his feet and straightened his posture, arms stiffly at his sides. “I—swear to uphold it! I… won’t give up so easily, you know!” he said firmly.

Kiritsugu’s expression was oddly gentle, albeit still impassive. “…I’m glad.”

Shirazu was grinning happily at the scene. Pausing, he noticed that Akira was smiling too.

Kiritsugu’s grey eyes, flickering with a new flame, closed. “I have… an idea that I’d like to try. One of the items I have is ‘Heroic Spirit.’ If my Heroic Spirit were to join us – that is, Arturia… better known as King Arthur – then I may be able to utilize Avalon, the scabbard to Excalibur which has extraordinary healing powers that could help Touka’s current predicament. On the other hand, I have ‘Generation.’ I’ve discovered that as of right now, my magic circuits don’t work. Assuming that allows me to generate magic again, I’d be of greater help in both offense and defense, if with a price. The ideal outcome here is of me getting the Heroic Spirit item, but we’ll have to see.”

“Well,” said Shirazu, “it’s worth a shot!”

“Let’s try it,” Seidou smiled.

In the Emergency Room a doorway away, Saiko had begun to stir, bleary eyes opening, then squeezing shut once more as she yawned and stretched. She wasn’t as comfortable as she’d like to be in the hospital bed she was resting in currently, but it didn’t change the fact that she didn’t want to get up. If she could, she’d sleep the rest of this game away and not have to deal with any of this anymore. But knowing that the others were probably already awake and, acknowledging the seriousness of the circumstances they were all in, Saiko made herself sit up, rubbing at her eyes. Looking around, she found the room to be mostly empty, save for Touka, still asleep, and someone standing at her bedside, arms crossed. He was leaning against the wall casually. Noticing Saiko was awake, he looked up, bald head shining in the light of the window and goatee stretching around his growing smile.

Saiko’s eyes widened in fear. Faster than she’d ever wanted to do, she jumped out of bed and flew with bare feet slapping on the linoleum towards the man she recognized as the game master that had been waiting for them at the end of the female game. “Stay away from Touka-chan…!”

“Not so loud,” he answered just as easily, moving an empty tool cart between them to trip her up.

She found herself sprawled on the ground, the cart falling with a clatter to the ground. The gamer scrambled to her feet, wheeling around to see that the game master was nowhere to be seen. No way… I need… to tell the others…! She looked at Touka, unconscious. Her eyes flickered behind closed lids, but the ghoul was otherwise unresponsive to the outside world as of that moment. With this, Saiko ran for the lobby.

After hearing such a commotion, those outside the ER turned to the room to see Saiko running for them at top speeds, fear shining in her bright blue eyes, blue pigtails trailing behind her.

“Whoa, Saiko?” Shirazu stared. “You’re up early—Ah, you okay? You’re super pale…”

“Game master!” she choked out. “Touka—dunno why, he was—there was—Touka-channn…”

“Is Touka-chan okay?” Kaneki questioned urgently as Akira abruptly got to her feet.

Shirazu looked at Kiritsugu, and Kiritsugu nodded. “I should get to it as soon as possible.”

“Agreed,” Akira said shortly.

“I’ll, uh, follow with him and Light,” said Shirazu to Kaneki. “You can go and check on Touka.”

Nodding curtly, Kaneki went with Saiko back to the ER in a hurry, Saiko tugging him along the whole way even though she really didn’t need to.

Kiritsugu, Shirazu, and Light prepared to rush to the second floor. The Magus Killer looked at Seidou momentarily and nodded before leading the way.

“I will also see to Touka,” Akira spoke in clipped tones, and began walking.

Seidou stared after everyone, leaving the lobby in such a rush. A hero, huh? Kiritsugu, was he saying he thought Seidou could become one? That he had such potential? He thought of his own hero. He thought of Shintaro (Please let him be okay…), and of his hero in the red scarf. He thought of Akira. He was staring intensely at the tiles beneath his feet. But why…? What would he possibly see in me? After all, I… He looked at Akira, back turned to him as she walked briskly away. …I’m just the underdog. …Always… Clenching and unclenching his fists, he felt he was about to be overcome with his frustration, face warming in irritation. No.

His voice at last broke free. “Mado.” He took a step forward, bracing himself to look her in the face: his rival. His classmate. His fellow soldier.

Akira paused. He couldn’t possibly understand the conflicting emotions raging behind those impassive eyes of hers as she turned to look back at him. “…Yes?”

He drew his lips into a thin line, chest puffing as he prepared his façade of confidence where honestly he was almost embarrassed. He told Shintaro he’d talk to Akira… he’d come to this conclusion himself. So why was this so hard…?

“I know you and I don’t work together well,” he began. “I know we don’t even want to look at one another. I know all we’ve really done is clash so far. I know I—I get frustrated easy, and I know it’s kind of an overreaction… usually. But I—wanted to say—…” He couldn’t get it out. Why?

Seidou watched as Akira began to laugh in a voice that was colored with a strange shade of melancholy. His eyes narrowed. “…What? Why are you laughing?” He was finding himself pissed off again.

She shook her head and looked at him with shining eyes, a vaguely sad smile touching her lips. “I’m just… Takizawa, you can’t imagine how happy I am to see you,” she said, and he blinked, taken aback.

Searching her face, it didn’t seem like she was lying. How should he react? “Well—happy or not, you’re not getting rid of me,” he said matter-of-factly. Her gentle expression was alien to him. Why did she have to look at him with that face? What was it that had changed for her, anyway? “I’m—glad I get to work with you.” There’s something I need to say… He found himself smiling a teasing smile back at her instead, raising his head proudly. “Because you push me to work harder. Maybe sometime I’ll actually beat you… but the game itself… it’s fun.”

Both of them were absorbed into the moment. They’d been caught there, and strangely, Seidou found he didn’t mind it for once. He’d caught her off-guard, but now she was giving him the warmest look he’d ever seen on her face. “You take care of that Touka girl,” Seidou said stiffly, “and I’ll follow after Kiritsugu and the others.” He gave a tight half-smile before heading off, not waiting for any other response.

Akira watched until he was in the stairwell, out of sight. She couldn’t tell whether she was happy or sad, nostalgic or regretful. Compartmentalize emotion. Where could she put this feeling?

Turning back to where Touka was waiting for her, she walked with a determined stride towards the ER.

Seidou ran into room 2-15 to find those already there gathered around the pillar in interest and possibly apprehension. Kiritsugu was standing before it, and Seidou could make out the purple-fringed static silhouette of the Voice just behind him. He, Shirazu, and Light all turned to look at Seidou in acknowledgement.

“We were talkin’ about how sometimes the pillars don’t give you exactly the thing you’re hoping for,” said Shirazu to Seidou upon his entry. “Like, y’know… I never did understand what Psyche’s item did for him. It might’ve done nothing at all.”

“I digress,” said the Voice.

“Yeah, well I didn’t notice shit,” Shirazu frowned. “But then there was the medical bag, which was super great…”

“It seems that they just like having fun with the items they’ve chosen,” Light shrugged. “You never quite know whether it will benefit you or not.”

“I asked the static dude,” added Shirazu, jutting his thumb at the game master projected in the center of the room, “…and they won’t tell us whether we get the choice to pick between the slashed ones.”

“If I get generation, this won’t be of much worth right now,” Kiritsugu admitted. “Or perhaps none of it is as it seems, and something unexpected will occur if I get ‘Heroic Spirit.’ There are other Heroic Spirits… There’s a possibility I wouldn’t even get my own.”

“That—that’s just annoying,” Seidou frowned. “So are you still going for it? …Or not?”

“I am.” Kiritsugu’s mouth upturned, eyes lightening. “Seidou, maybe you’re a bit naïve… but maybe there’s hope for us yet. I admire your purity. Even if they’re only ideals, in the end… Well.” He closed his eyes. “Anyway, let’s continue.”

Seidou thought that maybe he saw something strange in Light’s eyes for a moment, but it was gone in an instant, and the officer just shrugged it off and forgot about it.

Kiritsugu pressed his finger to the pink screen, selecting his item. As suspected by most of the players in the room, the result was randomized… or perhaps chosen by the game masters. There was no way to tell, but Seidou swore he saw the silhouette smile just before it disappeared. The bright white came, swallowing Kiritsugu whole and bringing the other three in the room to shielding their eyes as the light tried to blind them, searing their eyes with its intensity.

“Shit… why’s it gotta be so bright?” Shirazu grumbled, and lifted his head as the light died. “…The fuck?”

Before them was a boy, probably only Light and Shirazu’s age or younger, kneeling perplexedly on the ground.

“Heroic Spirit?” Shirazu guessed, and Light shrugged.

“But where’s Kiritsugu?” Seidou cried, frozen in place.

The boy turned to Seidou – his short messy hair was the shade of auburn; his intense but lost eyes were of a golden-brown. “Kiritsugu…?” he repeated slowly. “That was… the name of my father.”

 

Chapter 46: Movement

Chapter Text

 

“So what are you planning, then, Shinichi?” Rin Tohsaka inquired, arms crossed over her chest. The boy in question had gotten up insanely early under the oath he made to no one that he would bury the body of his fallen teammate. Something to do with it being the human thing to do, or… something along those lines. All of the others ended up joining in his efforts, as horrible as it was to see the twisted body of a thirteen-year-old boy. Senji seemed to be the only one unfazed, albeit sad. As of right now, Shinichi was putting the last bit of dirt over the shallow grave they’d made. “I know you’re kind of dealing with a lot, but we’ve got to establish a plan of action.”

Shinichi stared at her with flat eyes. “My intention is to find Group 3, consisting of players Yukiteru and A-ya. They are young… I need to see to it that they’re alright.”

“Do you know of player Ken Kaneki, by any chance?” asked Hide, touching his chin and closing an eye, peering at the partial parasite with curiosity.

“Ah… the… half-ghoul?”

Hide closed his eyes, casually bringing his hands behind his head. He was playing an information game. “Yeah, probably,” he said.

Shinichi nodded somberly. “I wish I could have met him sooner. I don’t know him… but I can tell he’s not himself. I fought him once; he’s very strong…”

Hide nodded, absorbing this. “He’s my buddy; that’s who we’re looking for. Ya think you can… like… not attack him?”

“I wouldn’t wish to fight him,” Shinichi answered. “So… yes.”

“We’re also looking for some red-jerseyed guy with black hair,” added Senji, scratching at the back of his head and looking bothered. “Don’t ask why.”

Shinichi nodded, remembering a boy who fit that description as he bluffed stabbing Ciel in the neck. “He seems to be a good person… I think his name is Shintaro.”

“So Shintaro, Kaneki, and Group 3. These are the guys we’re looking for,” Senji said with a nod.

“Looks like it,” Rin agreed. “I’d like to meet up with Emiya… at the very least out of curiosity. We’ll just have to see.”

“Our best bet right now is just carefully searching the game area, huh?” said Hide, and the others made noises of agreement. “Where to first?”

“We’re closer to the city now,” said Senji. “Maybe we should start heading out of the woods and towards the east.”

“Sounds good. That god keeps making a ruckus in the wooded area, and I don’t want to get caught up in that again,” Rin frowned.

“Then I suggest we get moving,” Shinichi spoke softly. He looked at the upturned earth where Ciel was buried. He will bring life to the trees whose roots are now his company. At least one beautiful thing can be made from this game, can’t it? Without another word, he began walking east. Rin and Hide looked at one another. Senji just silently followed, gesturing to the other two to come along. And they did.


Group 6 was in a period of stagnation. Come dawn, Izaya had begun doing idle things; making fun trinkets out of ordinary objects with Twelve. In the background, Celty and Akise were not quite understanding exactly what the point of all of this dilly-dallying was. Celty asked Akise whether he had a clue, but the boy detective just gave a smile and a shrug. “Just having fun, it seems,” he told her.

Eventually, the silver-haired boy made his inquiry: “Izaya-san, if I may.”

“Hm?” Izaya had looked at him with a thin smile, pausing in his game of checkers with himself. Or maybe it was chess. Shogi?

Akise tilted his head, hands in the pockets of his blue jacket. “Is there any hidden purpose to what you’re doing right now?”

[I don’t think now is the time for games.] added Celty, her posture suggesting irritation.

“But we’re in a game,” shrugged Twelve with a grin, and Celty shook her helmet.

[But we have other things to worry about.]

“If you two must know,” Izaya answered smoothly, placing one of his chess pieces beside a red checker, “I’ve come to a conclusion.” His smile was stretched ear-to-ear. “All of you have to come to some idea or another about how this game works, haven’t you?” His eyes narrowed. “Well… I think all of you are right. Maybe the initial goal is to pick off the other players, like Suzuya would say, hm? But Akise and I were right saying that the ultimate alliance would nullify the game, and Celty only agrees. Twelve has said that actually this underlying plan to find the game masters could have been the point of the game all along. ‘This is a battle royal. The last one standing wins.’ ‘To ally all of the players is to win the game.’ ‘Alliance leads to the intended ending.’ If all of these statements are true, then what is it that the game masters want? This playing field contains nothing but entertainment for them. To win the game, the players must unite. For the players to fight, the game masters get what they want. To unite, the game masters are presented with a pleasing challenge: it’s also what they want. The game must come to an end eventually, and if everyone kept fighting the others blindly, it would get boring. There’s no purpose to aimless violence. That form of action to them is stagnation. They want us to develop. They want us to find out the secrets of the game. It’s all a show, see? Well! I am sick and tired of playing by their rules. Life is my game to play, and this one… well, I’d rather not play it at all. If we don’t play the game, how can anyone really object? We react in defense if we’re attacked, which I honestly don’t believe will happen if we stay put. I’m cutting these strings they’ve tied us up with. I am not their puppet. I will not be their pawn.” He flicked one of his pawns so it fell over and rolled into a shogi piece. “No… If we follow the rules, we please them. If we work around the rules to break the game, we please them. But what if we don’t play at all?” He looked at Akise meaningfully. “That’s what I’m doing… or rather, not doing. You’re right, Akise-kun. I can see it on your face that you think my actions are pointless. And that is exactly the point.”

Celty turned her helmet as though to look at Akise, but the boy was gazing at Izaya in interest as the informant went immediately back to staring intently at his personal game. Beneath his skin, the informant was comprised of static, his mind piercing this haze with resolve. Yeah, if we do nothing, if we refuse to budge… The game masters will manipulate the situation. They’ll spur us forward. How will they do it? What will they do? I want to pick them apart…!

From the Control Center, Muse watched the scene with raised eyebrows and eyes that began to narrow. They clicked their tongue in vague irritation, then closed their eyes. Izaya, you sure are an interesting one… Don’t worry, because… A smile came to Muse’s features.

By now the sun had almost reached its peak in the sky, hidden behind dark clouds. While Izaya had been futzing around, Akise had been discussing the options with Celty, with Twelve, with Suzuya. Hands in his pockets, the silver-haired boy approached the informant all other members following behind him. “Izaya-san,” he said, and Izaya looked at him curiously.

“Chess?” he offered, and beamed. “I promise to take out the other pieces. But would you like to play? I’d love to have a round with you, Akise-kun.”

The boy detective shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t. I’ve had a discussion with the other members of our group, you see…” Akise smiled coolly, his eyes brimming with satisfaction. “I was talking to them about the situation at hand… about whether they want to stay put or take action. And maybe curiosity killed the cat, but… I’m sorry, Izaya-san, but they want to take action.” He shrugged mildly. “You’ve been overruled. We either leave you be here, or—”

“Thank you for answering my question for now, Akise-kun,” Izaya cut him off, jumping to his feet. He went to grab the crimson blade, now called the Prophet courtesy of Izaya. He’d found a toy scabbard that actually fit the blade nicely. It would have to do. Sheathing his weapon, he grinned a closed-eye smile and made his way to the door.

Suzuya stared at Akise. “Does he make sense to you, Akise?” he asked lowly.

Akise chuckled. “That’s a good question, Suzuya-kun. I’m actually not too sure what’s going through his head right now…”

“Our plan of action will be to find other groups and ally ourselves with them,” said Izaya, opening the door.  “Our end goal is to defeat Yato, the God of Calamity. He’s too powerful and too antagonistic as of right now. He needs to be rid of for the game to end. We should be careful of the allied Groups 1 and 2, since they might… well, let’s just say they could be hungry for recompense, and they may just have a bone to pick with me.” He looked at the others. “Well, shall we? You can lead the way if you so wish, Akise-kun~”

Celty and Akise looked at one another just as Suzuya and Twelve looked at one another. Twelve shrugged. Celty seemed to sigh.

Though suspicious, Akise thanked Izaya before stepping outside of the store with the others following behind. Group 6 was once again on the move.


“I can’t believe we’re lost,” Shintaro said faintly, staring up into the darkening sky. They were in the middle of a city street – they’d headed directly north as Aureus had said and they’d found no hospital yet.

“I can,” Roppi said flatly, his sleeve covering his mouth. His other arm cradled the machine gun with care. His red eyes were staring at the other in a deadpan expression.

“God, why…” Shintaro collapsed onto the street, lying on his back.

“Careful of the satchel,” Roppi frowned, and Shintaro shifted.

“I—know. I know…” Sighing heavily, the hikkiNEET closed his eyes.

“Are you going to get up, or…”

“Shut up; we’ve been going all night…”

Roppi raised his eyebrows with dull eyes. “Didn’t you say that there was someone in peril that you needed to save… or something…”

“Yeah… I need to get moving… I know… I suck…”

“Then get the fuck up already.” Roppi rolled his eyes. “If you’re gonna say you suck, don’t keep doing what you’re doing.”

“But I…” Shintaro sighed, opened his eyes, then winced, sitting up and rubbing said eyes in confusion. “Was that from the sky? Don’t tell me…”

“Mm?” Roppi looked up into the dark grey sky and felt a raindrop fall to his cheek. He blinked slowly, then bowed his head.

“Damn it, we’ve gotta hurry up and find the hospital before it actually rains…,” groaned Shintaro as he got to his feet, rubbing at his head. “Oh, no, it’s picking up… God… I can’t believe we’re lost!” he cried for perhaps the fifteenth time that day.

The hiss of the rain was his answer as the clouds released their saturation upon them in all their monochrome glory. He let out a weak wail, hugging the medical bag to his chest. Who knows what Roppi would do to him if it got wet? Shintaro was weak – he was a shut-in that hadn’t been exposed to the elements in two years; this wasn’t fair!

“…Can’t believe we’re lost,” Shintaro mumbled again, and he heard soft laughter answer him this time.

He looked at Roppi in shock: the bitter one had his sleeve to his mouth, his eyes glimmering like the raindrops. “I… can believe it,” Roppi said to him, and Shintaro looked at him questioningly. The darker of the two only looked up into the sky, closing his jaded eyes with a smile touching his pale lips. “I… have always loved the rain. I only open my curtains at home when the rain is coming down… do you remember…? Tsuki…”

Shintaro stared at him, empathy softening his gaze. He looked down to the asphalt beneath their feet. He didn’t know what to say.

“Hey… you know… he was always late to everything… do you know why…?”

Shintaro looked at him.

“…His sense of direction really sucked… He’d manage to get lost on a route he’d traveled for years. He has a knack for losing his way. You know… he and I… we met because he was lost in the wrong part of the city. He… It’s ironic, because… in the end, he found me. It wasn’t actually the other way around, as much as it seemed like it… And I…” He trailed off, and Shintaro waited, standing at his side in the rain. His clothes were already soaked through, and he had the fleeting thought that at least now he didn’t have green tea raspberry cola all over him anymore. He waited for Roppi to continue, but he was silent. Shintaro gave this moment to him, figuring he should be quiet here.

Roppi, eyes closed, allowed the rain to soak him down to his bones. He felt something draining away, and he felt all the lighter for it. With closed eyes, nothing was wrong. He was washing away all the problems. Give me just a moment of peace… Slowly, his eyes opened, and he looked Shintaro, who quickly looked away as if in anticipation of a retort in relation to his staring. Instead, Roppi gave him a broken smile. “Shintaro… what have I been doing, all this time…?”

The NEET blinked in confusion, unsure of what he was asking.

Roppi looked down at the machine gun in his hands – suddenly it felt so heavy to him, as though the object itself had finally realized what it was made for. He was reminded of the fact that the Harrowing Blade was nestled safely in his pocket; so what did it mean for him to receive that as his personalized special item? His eyes… stung. They were hot, and the world around him blurred. The rain masked his bitter sorrow. With this… I… In his other pocket, he had a paper scribbled on in messy doodles of who his targets were. Suddenly he felt like gravity was pulling a little too hard. His body was leaden, as though he had realized… …What am I made for…?

Roppi didn’t hear the vague shout from above – the only thing to hear was the pattering of the rain and the resounding thoughts of self-doubt. He did, however, feel the ground tremble as a crash sent Shintaro into the air out of sudden fear. The bitter one immediately snapped from his own head, if unpleasantly so.

Roppi wheeled around, readying the machine gun to shoot with eyes that were wide with horror. His ears were ringing with the hiss of the rain, and in front of him was the one that had killed Psyche with his bare hands, clad in white instead of black. Now Roppi could see clearly the blood on his garments. The now-albino had landed from up above, as if he’d jumped from a building to join them. Roppi’s eyes were wild. “…You…”

“Wait, Roppi—” Shintaro began, but Konoha blinked at the machine gun and moved to quickly stand just behind Roppi.

“That looks dangerous,” the android said softly, and took the gun away from him.

“H—hey—that’s—!” Roppi tried to get it back, but Konoha blankly held it out of reach.

“Do you want to hurt me?” Konoha inquired quietly.

“Konoha, is that really you?” Shintaro asked with cautious hope. “Are you… the one they brought back?”

“…?” Konoha looked at him. “Oh… ‘Brought back’… Maybe. I thought that I had died, but then woke up. It’s possible I don’t know what death feels like. I think I did it wrong.”

“Unbelievable,” Shintaro laughed, and found himself beginning to shed tears of joy. He was suddenly glad it was raining. Yeah… it wasn’t Ayano, but… He found that he was still happy. He could save someone after all… He’d lost his hero long ago, now—but before him was a friend of the present.

“Do you… remember the things that you did…?” Roppi asked carefully, his eyes chilled once more.

“Mm.” Konoha nodded. “Would it make you feel better to hurt me? I will let you if you want. However… I cannot let you kill me. I want to take care of Shintaro. Oh… yes, and I wanted to say ‘sorry.’ I didn’t want… to do any of the things… that I…”

Roppi stared in perplexity. Is he… vibrating?

“Ah—don’t cry, Konoha…,” Shintaro tried to comfort him awkwardly. “You’re not possessed or anything now… right? So it’s okay?”

“I… do not feel strange, now,” Konoha confirmed. “I don’t feel like there’s something inside of me that isn’t mine.”

The hikkiNEET sighed in relief.

“So, um… I don’t know your name, but here,” said Konoha to Roppi, handing him back the machine gun. “You can hurt me, if you want.”

“Konoha, that—might not be a good idea…”

Roppi looked down at the gun in his hands, then back up at Konoha. “…I should have figured, huh…? No, I knew…” He gave a quavering smile. “…That Tsuki wouldn’t be… coming back…” He felt as though he could crumble into dust.

“You’ve lost someone. It is something that you should always remember. Something like that… you shouldn’t forget,” said Konoha.

“They’re all dead.” His tone was strange, even to his own ears.

Shintaro was watching with distress.

“You killed Psyche,” Roppi stated.

“I’m sorry…”

“You killed Delic.”

“…”

“Tsuki is dead.”

“…I don’t think I can fix that.” Konoha looked at him with expressionless sympathy.

Roppi began to laugh, sinking to the wet ground beneath him. The road was running with water, and his legs splashed up the wet. He clutched the machine gun in his hands… What kind of offer was that? ‘You can hurt me if it will make you feel better,’ huh? What the fuck?

As enraged as he was at the time, when he saw he hadn’t killed the silver-haired boy… he’d been relieved.

Was this what he was, then? This revived person had just handed him a fucking machine gun thinking it would help him out. What am I made for after all…? I can’t tell anymore… “I don’t want to hurt you…” Roppi’s voice was barely audible in the sound of the rain. I don’t want anything at all… I don’t think… I can stand this anymore…

Konoha blinked slowly. “Oh. Well, that’s good… I guess that’s settled. But… why are you on the ground?”

“Oh, Konoha…” Shintaro sighed, mouth quivering. “I’m so happy to see you…”

Konoha looked at him. “…I am also glad to see you, Shintaro. I’m especially happy that I am with you as myself. Not being able to control your own body… it’s—scary.”

Shintaro nodded. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that stuff.”

“I am also sorry,” he answered, tilting his head. “I have a lot of people to say that to…”

“Hey, Konoha… There’s somewhere we’ve got to make it to – it’s a hospital. You think you can help us find it? There’s someone in trouble, see…”

“Trouble?” Konoha asked, tone suddenly urgent. “That… that’s bad… A hospital? I will help you get there, of course.”

“Thank you so much… And Roppi…” He put a hand on his friend’s back – Roppi didn’t react, but he didn’t retreat, either. Shintaro looked down at him with concern – he saw that the fire in his eyes had been extinguished to ash. “…Please be gentle with him. He’s a good friend of mine, even if he seems mean sometimes.”

Konoha nodded silently. “I will… protect you both.”

Roppi, caught up in the rain – the sound drowned out all else, no thinking, no feeling, there was only the constant hiss… a comfortable numbness… the pattering; the feeling of it running off of him smoothly, touching him gently – was suddenly snapped from his harsh thoughts and back into harsh reality as Konoha lifted him into the air and held onto him with one arm, grabbing Shintaro with the other. “Wha—What the fuck are you doing?!” Roppi protested, beginning to struggle.

“Uh—Konoha, you don’t need to—uwah!” Shintaro let out a yelp as Konoha jumped into the air and onto a nearby building.

“I will find it quickly.” Konoha was speaking in toneless resolve. “I want to do good now.”

“Th… that’s great and all…,” Roppi said faintly. “…Um… but…”

“This is too risky!” Shintaro cried, and Konoha jumped off of the five-story building.

“Don’t you dare kill us like this—!” Roppi shouted with increasing panic, clinging to the machine gun and Konoha at the same time.

“I think I see it,” Konoha stated. With two panicking friends in his arms, the friendly android made his way towards the hospital.

 

Chapter 47: Underdog Supremacist

Chapter Text

 

“I guess it’s kind of fitting for you… being approached by the timekeeper,” remarked A-ya quietly, hands in his pockets. He wished he could fidget. He wished he had his phone. He’d always be occupied then. He longed for the thing that stood between him and the world… but…

“Hm? I guess you’re right, A-ya…” Yukiteru smiled. A-ya could bet that Yukiteru wanted his phone, too. They were only just coming up on the forest now.

“No shit,” scoffed Minene.

“What was it… The God of Time and Space, ‘Deus ex Machina’?” inquired A-ya. “What a cool name… Cool…”

“Yeah.” Yukiteru rubbed the back of his head and tugged at the rim of his hat.

“What an urban legend that could be… A god residing in someone’s head… That’s… cool…” He knew he was repeating things. Not that he was tired or anything. But talking about this, he suddenly longed for the first night they were here, listening to the soft snoring of Keiichi and feeling the warmth of C-ta not too far away… A-ya shook himself out of it.

“If you think about it, in terms of gods and demons,” said L prospectively, “…no matter what realm you’re from, demons must always exist. Yes, in fact, I face them all the time.”

“If I’m following your logic here,” said Roy with a nod, “I, too, have faced demons.”

L bowed his head in confirmation. “I’m sure… Demons… Monsters… they are the same, in essence. There are, of course, the demons who cause trouble from the shadows without showing themselves… For example, the game masters, if I may say so. There are also the demons that commit crimes, yes, the horrible crimes like the abduction of children. Then there are the demons that devour people’s dreams. But the worst demon of all is the one that speaks nothing but lies.”

A-ya’s mouth twitched. “I have to disagree. There is no such thing.”

L looked at him with interest. “…How’s that, A-ya-kun?”

“In this world… in every world, I’m sure… there are only things that sound like lies, and things that sound like truth. That’s all there is to exist.”

“What an interesting perspective,” L smiled. “Quite terrifying.” Pausing, L contemplated this. “…But I can’t say I agree.”

A-ya nodded. Demons, huh? Who is the ‘demon’ we really seek, after all…? He saw the box cutter millimeters from his own chest, the deranged smile on C-ta’s tear-streaked face. A-ya shook his head again. Hands in his pockets, he gripped his special item from Aureus in one hand, C-ta’s box cutter in the other. He’d kept it after that terrible night of crimson. There was no way he could ever wield those scissors again.

“Jeez, what serious talk, here,” Roy sighed, gloved hand to his forehead. The first drops of rain began to fall, and he looked to the sky.

“Sorry, kid,” Minene said to A-ya, “but you sayin’ that about lying just makes you sound like a liar. No offense.”

“Perhaps it did,” said L, “but do not worry too much on it, A-ya-kun… for in truth, I am that kind of demon, myself.”

A-ya blinked at him.

“What I’m wondering is how come I couldn’t see that bastard,” Minene grumbled irately, closing her eye.

“He just had business with Yukiteru, I suppose,” said Rika.

“Interesting, I guess, but it’s easy to see why he’d want to show up to him and not you,” A-ya remarked to Minene, and she frowned at him, glaring for a moment before bursting into laughter.

“Good, you’ve got some spunk in ya after all!” With this, she punched him in the arm, causing him to stagger slightly.

He blinked wide eyes, snapping from disorientation. …I’m up. Awake. Seriously.

No, A-ya wasn’t tired.

“Eh, you’re still kind of dead in the eyes, but whatever,” Minene shrugged. “We all die inside someday.”

“That’s not something you should say…,” Yukiteru protested. When she waved him off, he shook his head. “Well, I’m more wondering why he came to me in the first place. It can’t just be because he’s the timekeeper and I’m associated with the God of Time and Space and whatever… Because if Minene’s in the battle of the Future Diaries, then that would mean that she should have been approached too. Right?”

“Under that logic, yes,” confirmed Roy.

“I mean, he said he was on some kind of mission,” Yukiteru frowned.

The military man speculated: “That would imply that he was sent out by someone he’s taking orders from. That means they needed to accomplish something in your little time jump there.”

“Hm,” remarked Rika wordlessly.

“Considering the greatest discovery you made was about those friends of yours…” said Roy seriously, “…the only thing I can think is that one or more of those friends are now involved in this game.”

Yukiteru’s eyes widened in horror. “No… If they were pulled into this, I…” He looked at A-ya, then at the ground. “I mean, I hope not…”

“Knowing that he seemed to be so specific on timing, seeing as he’s the timekeeper,” said L, “I’d have to say that you would likely be meeting with at least one of these people soon.”

Yukiteru swallowed.

A-ya was absently toying with the stone that Aureus had given him. How should I feel about that? I don’t know… I guess I don’t really care…? Should I be happy? Maybe I should be afraid for him. Ah, I don’t know how to feel about anything anyway. I’m bad at this connection thing. He felt as Yukiteru grabbed the dark sleeve of A-ya’s hoodie for comfort. …But I do know that I… enjoy being at his side. I want him… to make it out of here. Can I really help him?

“But I have a question,” continued L. “A-ya…” The boy looked at him blankly with a mm? “…Why did you bring up symbolism earlier? I don’t suppose you’ve had another encounter with a game master…”

A-ya stared at him with a flat look save for his eyes, wide and uncomprehending. Did he just ask that? Oh. “…No, of course not,” A-ya answered. “And even if I did, who’s to say that I would be allowed to tell you? You can tell easily from these game masters… yeah, just by this one instance with this timekeeper guy – they like keeping their secrets. You said it yourself that they’re the types that cause trouble without ever showing themselves. If they’re found… well.” A-ya closed his eyes and shrugged, satisfied. “Of course they wouldn’t let anyone talk about them, you know? They certainly have the power to keep others’ mouths shut, at the very least… considering the fact that they have abilities far beyond that already.” For not sleeping two nights in a row… not half bad, A-ya.

L was smiling vaguely at him, his wide, slightly bulging eyes filled with intrigue. “I see… Well, in that case…” He paused, biting his thumbnail in contemplation. “If that were the case… theoretically…” The detective stopped walking, his pupils quivering as he thought deeply. “Schrodinger’s cat…?” The drizzle had quickly become a downpour, and all of them were already soaked. None of them seemed to mind.

The others paused, turning to him in a mix of curiosity and concern. “What is it, L?” inquired Roy, and Rika made a wordless noise of agreement.

“Under that thought process… This game… This reality…” He looked at everyone with wide, enlightened eyes. “The truth of it all: it’s—”

Get back!” Roy shouted suddenly, and tried to guard the youngest three as a figure burst through the trees, with eyes of bright blue. With a slash of finality, L was on the ground in an instant, his plain white long-sleeve shirt marred with stains of red. Yato stood on a branch above them all, wielding Nora with eyes of ice.

L stared up at Yato, disbelieving.

“That’s the god we mentioned,” Yukiteru explained, his panic rising quickly.

“Oh, fuck,” was Minene’s eloquent response.

Aureus said this guy could kill Sebastian easy, A-ya thought in quivering fear. He was frozen in place again.

“God…?” asked L weakly. “How—ironic…”

“Everyone get back—this guy’s got more than just speed!” ordered Roy, and Yukiteru and A-ya obeyed while Rika ran over to L to try and bring him away from the danger zone. Quickly – if grudgingly – Minene helped her out and got L behind Roy too.

Yato shifted his position on the tree branch – he was in a fighting stance again, lowering his head without expression. In the rain, his dark purple hair looked black, the water running down his face and diluting the blood spatter.

“Well, big shot, where’s your counter?” hissed Minene to Roy, who had his hand in the air, as though suspended in the moment.

He looked frozen. “…I, can’t start fires. In the rain.”

“Oh my god!” she cried, pulling a grenade from her belt with frustrated irritation.

The pin was pulled – the terrorist wheeled around with her thumb on the spoon of her bomb as the God of Calamity shot through the lot of them. How do I—even aim? “No wonder the world sucks! You’re a fucking asshole, shithead god!” Minene shouted as Yukiteru was thrown into a nearby tree and A-ya stared in horror. The grenade was thrown high up into the air, and she grabbed Rika, ready to run for it.

“No, we can’t leave them!” Rika cried.

“I—I know that—!”

Yato tauntingly jumped into the air, knocking the grenade away from him. Moments later, it exploded in a flash of fire, smoke, and shrapnel. “Hah!” Roy raised his arms in front of him, perpendicular to his body as he spread them apart and caused the explosion to double, triple, quadruple in the air, the airborne conflagration chasing after the god as he sped through the air. Yato was scowling in surprise, having been licked by the flames in his underestimation of the explosion.

“Aw, sweet!” Minene laughed freely as she listened to the sizzling of the rain around them evaporating in the heat. “Not bad after all, eh?” Setting down Rika carefully, she patted her on the back as if to tell her to get the hell out of there. Instead, the youngest ran to L and held onto his arm as he lay on the ground, his breathing unsteady and shallow.

Minene grabbed onto another grenade in preparation of when this one went out, if it did.

“We can’t just do this forever,” Roy said with a grimace, his stance wide as he utilized the flames by the command of his hands.

Yukiteru was staring in a horrified daze at the scene before him – his head hurt and he was still trying to catch his breath. Roy and Minene were facing the god together, but even with the aid of a freaky terrorist, the Flame Alchemist had only managed to scathe their opponent so far. Rika was trying to protect the injured L with her tiny body, and A-ya stood frozen behind Minene and Roy, seemingly paralyzed.

I can’t—be worthless, here. I have to—help, at least for A-ya’s sake. Shakily, he reached for his darts, but… What will darts do against a god? Wait… The stones! He quickly searched his pockets for the stone that Aureus had given him, but it was nowhere to be found. No way—! Then he saw it, glowing orange among the downpour, lying the grass perhaps two meters away. I need to… As he made his attempt for the stone, Yato was on him. He felt the temperature drop – the fire had stopped. Roy couldn’t just burn Yukiteru.

“Oh, jeez… Get outta there, Yukki!” yelled Minene.

“I could end it quickly, if you like,” Yato said coolly.

“Yuki…teru…” A-ya’s heart was gripped with the cold hands of terror. No… I don’t—want… Time stopped. He became aware of the red-glowing stone in his pocket. His grip tightened around it. What am I doing? I’ve done nothing for him at all… I haven’t done anything for anyone… Removing the stone from his pocket and gazing at it with determination, he felt a rising fortitude within him, his eyes at last coming into focus in the haze of the rain. That’s right… My childhood dreams… What I wanted to become… He smiled a bit, thinking of everyone around them as he sensed them shifting into action in slow-motion. …a dark hero… Yato had decided to take Yukiteru by the throat, his countenance alone chilling the air. …a genius… L struggled to breathe, but Rika was holding onto his hand, assuring him that he would be alright. Such childish words… it brought him peace. …a king…! Roy was gesturing to Minene to come closer, wishing to quickly discuss a plan of action before anyone else got too terribly hurt. Think fast – we need to act now!

With this, A-ya raised the stone into the air as he resonated with the color of crimson. He felt as though he were in a dream. “I can be the Hero of Justice; I’ll make the world we all desire!” he cried, and he felt that his mouth had upturned into something like a grin. This… is my Underdog Supremacy Doctrine!

Everyone turned to him as he transformed in a flash of red. He emerged from the light with a new getup of a white collared button-up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, a black vest covering it and contrasting with a red tie that flapped with the force as he jumped into the air, a red cape trailing behind him dramatically. That single piece of hair on his head, yes, that ahoge had gone zig-zag as if it had a life of its own, ending in an arrow pointing to the sky. He still had his red plaid pants, and it was all topped off with the cat ears that adorned his raven-haired head. A-ya was grinning in triumph, the thunder rolling beyond him as though in applause or rising apprehension.

Yukiteru stared at him in awe. Well… Aureus wasn’t kidding about the cat ears.

“Yato!” The god looked at A-ya blankly. “You have made an enemy out of yourself!” Smugly, A-ya closed his eyes and smirked. He’d taken on a new character as if he were playing pretend. “I can’t let you go, now. Why? That’s justice.” With gleaming eyes, he grinned as he struck Yato with red lightning at the swipe of his hand. The god staggered, dropping Yukiteru to the ground. He turned on A-ya, blue lightning crackling around him. Oo, he was pissed. He lifted his sword from the ground, ready to face off with A-ya. A strong one, huh? That was new. It only meant that he needed to get rid of this one sooner rather than later… Eyes narrowing, Yato prepared to counter as A-ya sped towards him… and knocked Yukiteru over the head.

“Ah—A-ya?” Yukiteru cried in a raspy voice, rubbing at his head.

“I’m so great, I can beat even my allies!” A-ya beamed, and burst into joyous laughter.

Yukiteru blinked bemusedly at him. “…Huh…?” How tired was A-ya to act like this? Maybe it was a side effect of the special item? Either way… um, ow.

“You can’t stop me,” A-ya said to Yato. “I’m the invincible dark hero, right?”

Yato irately swiped at him, but A-ya bounded into the air. Yato followed, and A-ya sent the red lightning upon him again. Swiping it away, he attempted to slice him again, to no avail. They danced with one another – two gods of the sky colliding in a storm of electric reds and blues.

…As strange as it is, he’s acting so confident, Yukiteru thought blankly, watching in amazement. …He’s so cool…

Minene and Roy were frozen in place, staring dumbstruck at the epic scene before them. They looked at one another, expressions equally shocked. Then they looked back at the battle.

“…Does he… have cat ears?” Minene asked flatly.

“…I’unno,” Roy shrugged.

“Yeah! Go, A-ya!” Rika cried out to him exuberantly. “Yay!”

“That’s right, send your love!” A-ya grinned, and danced to the side as Yato went for him again. He ended up slicing at the red cape, much to the god’s annoyance. “This rotten nihilism of ours, it only comes with the secrets of a mysterious hero, eh?”

Yato’s eyes narrowed. “You’ll never be a hero,” he said lowly as A-ya dodged to the side again, laughing heartily. “I know it’s true. It’s a dream I had, once… but some people are meant to be the villain. Some people are meant to be useless.”

“The villains are my enemies,” A-ya smiled slyly, and he began to envision that perhaps Yato had not a sword, but a trident. He laughed with just a tinge of discomfort.

“No, no, I’ve seen you tremble on the ground.” The god was moving so fast. A-ya was slowly finding himself attacking less and less, dodging more and more. And each time, the god was getting ever closer. “Trembling… Isn’t that helpless? Isn’t it worthless? A nuisance? You weren’t meant to be a hero, and you know it as well as I do.”

A-ya’s eyes widened, smile fading. They were still midair. They were floating, the regular sense of time had been adjourned; it’d be back momentarily, please wait an eternity. Thank you for your patience.

Yato’s bright blue eyes were burned into A-ya’s mind, those pupils were slits that penetrated his chest like that box cutter should have. Like his scissors slit open—

No, no, no. C-ta, where’d you go? It was a frantic plea.

He could feel it now – he was hugging a stuffed toy with yellow buttons for eyes, his own red eyes filled with stars as he watched the invincible dark hero on the television. His red blanket had been his cape – he’d tied it messily around his shoulders, declaring himself a hero of justice while C-ta smiled at him, a pink rabbit at his side. “Fine… Then that means… I’m the villain, right?” With a child-like imitation of a maniacal laugh, the young C-ta grabbed the blue blanket, wearing it on his head as though he had a hood. Villain C-ta, yeah, with his blue getup and powerful trident.

Staring at Yato, A-ya felt his blood run cold. A tremor ran through him, and suddenly he felt that the rain had soaked through his very soul, leaving it sodden and heavy. “C-ta…?” he whispered. It was Yato before him, but he couldn’t tell whether that was true anymore. Reality was bleeding into delusion.

“You’re trembling…,” commented Yato softly, his mouth twisting in what could have been bitter satisfaction.

In an instant, he sent A-ya to the ground in a single powerful kick that shot him directly into the earth. The ground shook; A-ya’s body made a crater that showed just the amount of force he’d been sent to the ground with. The dark-clad hero staggered to his feet, only to collapse back to his knees, his eyes wide and unseeing. He felt his dark-clad thoughts gripping at his dark-clad body, trying to tie him down and bring him into the nothing; shut down. Giving up. “C-ta, I really am…” He felt everything shifting back into place. The cape was fading, his ears rang as the feline ones dissipated. He was nothing but a useless boy kneeling in a crater of mud. The rain was thick. “I’m so… helpless…” His red eyes glazed over; he slumped as he accepted whatever fate was to come. There was nothing left. He couldn’t care anymore. He thought that perhaps he heard Yukiteru’s voice shouting his name in desperation. He thought that perhaps Yato was standing at the edge of the crater, sword in hand and grin plastered on his face. A-ya felt as though his death was due anyhow. Yukiteru will be fine… He’s not alone, without me. He has his own friends to return to… He and I… shouldn’t have even met, I’m sure… Those people… can be there for him, better than I can. I know it… Lost, A-ya sank, sank into the depths of his own consciousness, giving in at last, letting go of the world around him as he lost touch with reality and retreated into himself so far that his eyes became those of the dead.

He did not register the noises from above. He did not register the water pooling around himself, nor the blood that dripped from the wounds where Yato had clipped him. He did not register anything. He saw only black. He was sitting in a pool of black mist; there was nothing to see, nothing to hear. He didn’t want to be anymore. His thoughts slowed to a stop. He was nowhere.

It doesn’t have to end this way. A voice in the dark.

I deserve this ending.

Does your new friend deserve to watch it?

A-ya curled further into himself.

You don’t have to be helpless.

A-ya didn’t respond. He didn’t want to listen.

You have everything you need, you see… You just need a hand to help you up. If you don’t act now, you could die. Do you want that? Do you really want that?

The memory of his scissors to his throat surfaced. His eyes burned. He felt like he might vomit.

No, you don’t. You just want to fix everything, right?

“I killed C-ta …,” he whispered. Or at least, he thought he did.

That’s true. But does that mean you have nothing left to lose?

“I…”

Isn’t there still a reason to fight?

“I-I… can’t do anything…”

That’s right.

A-ya buried his face in his hands, weighed down with his incompetence. His doubt had overruled even the item that Aureus had given him. What good is a hero who can’t do a thing?

Maybe you can’t accomplish that yourself, but how can you possibly stop now? How can you possibly say you’re satisfied? Are you? Are you satisfied?

“I… guess not…”

Surely then, you have something… Tell me, what is it you want? What is it, your hidden desires? Don’t tell me your dreams have curled up and died, now… What wishes do you harbor?

A-ya’s eyes stung as he thought of looking at the sky the night before, talking to Yukiteru about wishing on a shooting star. All I want… all I want, is… He at last looked through the dark haze and to the voice he was conversing with, its red serpentine eyes glowing in the dark. A pitch-black snake was coiled before him. Its mouth opened in greeting; its forked tongue was oddly purple.

A-ya looked up at him. The ‘demon’ we really seek, huh…?

I can help you, said the snake, swaying slightly in the black. I can give it to you… the thing you’re longing for.

The boy’s vision blurred. He felt so cold. No, it wasn’t a serpent in front of him, was it? Why could that be? “Bosom Serpent…,” A-ya breathed vaguely, thinking of the old folklore… tales of snakes crawling in through the mouth and nestling themselves in the human’s body to live. His stomach was knotted. It was all a joke – his insides were already comprised of snakes, coiling and writhing and asphyxiating him slowly. He looked again; his head was swimming. C-ta was there, holding out his hand to him.

His old friend smiled at him in that warm, knowing way of his. Oh, A-ya…, he said. You’re so helpless. Here…

Hesitantly, A-ya took his hand and allowed C-ta to aid him to his feet. Upon standing, A-ya embraced him, dead eyes spilling over with flavorless tears. C-ta embraced him fully. His body was cold, and A-ya felt a chill cloak him. Closing his eyes, A-ya held him closer. “I know what you are,” he whispered, and he could sense the other taking pause. “How horribly fitting… ‘C-ta’… I refuse to accept your parasitic offer. You want to know my wish…? Here… I wish to not be helpless – to be able to remain at Yukiteru’s side. That’s all I want, now.” A-ya found himself smiling. “So? Will we cooperate… ‘C-ta’?”

Yukiteru screamed A-ya’s name when he went down. Minene immediately tossed up another grenade to allow the starter for Roy’s fire alchemy. Yato dodged and went for Rika in a roundabout way, dancing to and fro in order to reach her without getting burnt. Roy made a ring of fire around L and the child in an attempt to ward off the god, shouting to him not to pick off the ones who couldn’t fend for themselves. Ignoring him, Yato went through the flames. Nora cast water about him as he went through, protecting his skin, but his white puffy scarf was aflame. He ripped it from his neck without hesitation, letting it fly away without him as he plummeted down upon Rika, sword raised and eyes shining.

Rika stood her ground, expression suddenly flat as she spread her arms, attempting to block Yato from the injured L. “Go ahead, Yatogami.” Her voice was low, resounding in his bones as he swung downward and into a light purple specter that came from nowhere, jumping to protect Rika with luminescent violet eyes and horns sprouting from either side of her lavender-haired scalp.

Yato halted mid-swing, dodging backwards and staggering on his feet as he stared in shock. Another… god?

“I, Hanyuu, hereby forbid you from hurting Rika! She is the vessel of Oyashiro-sama, so…!” The young goddess faltered, toying with her fingers and shrinking before Yato. She wore traditional clothing themed with red and white, somewhat like Nora. “Uwaauaauuu… I just— …d-don’t want you to… hurt… her…”

Yato blinked. Mirthless hilarity bubbled up, sending him into a fit of cruel laughter. His sword seemed to vibrate with him in amusement. “You think that weak god will save you?!”

“At least I have a shrine!” The god called Hanyuu answered indignantly, putting her hands on her hips.

Yato’s eyes narrowed, smirk twisting his mouth. “Cute.”

Minene was squinting through the flames. “Who’s that crazy-ass god talking to? What god? Rika? L? What is he talking about?”

“Don’t know,” Roy said in a tight voice.

“Fuck this! Get away from Rika!” Minene was about to run into the flames, but Roy grabbed her by the back of the shirt.

“Wait!”

“Wait, my ass! Let go of me!”

Yukiteru watched the scene with amassing terror. He’d forgotten how to move. A-ya… is he okay…? Is he… alive…? If I don’t move now… Rika will also… He closed his eyes, fighting back tears. I need that stone! He made for it in a crawl; the movement seemed so slow, but god damn it, he’d make it…!

From the crater that Yato had made, there was swirling gust of air that sent the raindrops in the vicinity spinning, spinning like Yukiteru’s head. Inside the crater of mud and debris, A-ya’s red eyes opened, his pupils shrinking to slits as his mouth split into a bone-chilling grin. His pointed ahoge came back, an arrow pointed to the sky; his plaid pants were died black, grey, and white as his cape bled deep ebony in its re-materialization. Looking to the dark and saturated firmament, A-ya shifted from a kneeling position to a crouching position before pushing off the ground and making an indent in the crater. In the air, he made a beeline for Yato.

Amused by his persistence, Yato blocked A-ya’s fist. His eyes widened as the force drove him into the fire behind him, and immediately he jumped to escape the flames, Nora immediately casting water around him. It wasn’t fast enough for them to avoid it all, and he grimaced at the consequential burns.

Dodge faster, god of bloodshed,” A-ya said, his voice distorted in dual tones, as though two people were speaking at once.

With a frown, Yato dodged again only to find A-ya in front of him. The tables had turned. It was the god who was struggling to keep up with A-ya, now. Shrieking with laughter, the dark-clad hero slammed Yato back into the residential area, demolishing three houses with Yato as his projectile.

I win! I win!” cried A-ya, jumping on the god and pinning him to the ground. Nora had been cast to the side.

Yato stared in disbelief, sensing the two energies colliding and enmeshing within the boy before him. …When did…? A demon?Hiki!” he barked, and Nora came immediately back to him just as A-ya raised his arm into the air and jabbed his hand into Yato’s gut just where the wound from the gourmet had at last healed. Choking, he grabbed onto A-ya’s arm, but A-ya’s grin only contorted itself further as he sent a power shock of red electricity coursing through Yato’s insides. In the dark hero’s grasp, the God of Calamity began to writhe and squirm, crying out as the current only continued, the static agony buzzing through his body and getting worse with each passing moment as his chest convulsed and his limbs went into spasms, fingers scrabbling to hold onto something, anything.

“A-ya!” Yukiteru cried in relief. He could hear some of the others running for him from the edge of the forest.

With a sucking sound, A-ya removed his hand from Yato’s gut, shaking off some of the blood onto the debris around them. Yato, breathing heavily from the exertion, quickly rolled over onto his hands and knees, choking up blood… vomiting up the red. Nora was in her human form then, her hand on his back, eyes concerned. She looked back at A-ya with discontented orbs.

A-ya turned his head to look behind him: Yukiteru and Roy were heading this way. The dark hero smiled at them, eyes luminescent in the storm. “Don’t worry; I won’t leave your side,” said A-ya to Yukiteru, that dual tone remaining. Tone returning to one voice, he added, “…I’m not going to be helpless anymore.”

“A-ya…” Yukiteru began to shrink.

“A-ya, are you alright?” Roy questioned seriously. “We should get away from this guy or finish him off.”

“I’m fine,” said A-ya, and Yato began to bubble with hysterical laughter.

“That…” Yukiteru looked down, hugging himself. “It… You…” He looked at him with glimmering eyes. “You were so cool! That was amazing, A-ya!”

Blinking, A-ya smiled a bit. He looked vaguely uneasy.

From the edge of the forest, there came the call from Minene: “Yo, guys! Another group’s here; they seem like they don’t wanna fight!”

Yukiteru blinked, then grabbed A-ya’s wrist. “C’mon, A-ya, let’s go see,” he said, pulling him along. Yato glared daggers at Roy, who stood guard just behind him, making sure he didn’t lash out when he thought no one was paying attention.

Yukiteru and A-ya came up to the other three of their group: Rika was kneeling beside L, and Minene seemed to be talking to someone on the edge of the woods.

“Right—L…” Yukiteru ran up to join Rika. The child looked at the other two sadly. L, smile touching his lips ever so slightly, lay with his eyes closed, his chest still. “So, he…” Yukiteru’s eyes brimmed with regret.

A voice snapped him out of it. “Yukiteru-kun!” a friendly, smooth tone. Yukiteru wheeled around in surprise to see the silver-haired Akise approaching.

“Akise-kun!” Yukiteru cried in surprised delight. His elation quickly fell into dread. That means… L was right…  “So—you’re caught in this game, huh…?”

“Kind of crazy,” Akise smiled, hands in his pockets. “Glad to see you’re doing alright…”

A-ya stared, wide-eyed, at Akise. “Akise…,” he repeated slowly.

“Ah, you must be A-ya-kun.” The silver-haired boy had a friendly, warm tone.

“…Yes,” A-ya agreed quietly.

“He’s kind of quiet, but he’s actually really cool,” explained Yukiteru. He was about to go into an excited rambling about how amazing A-ya was when a different voice pierced through the ruined area they were gathered in.

“Wow, this looks terrible! Is everyone alright?” It was the sly-looking man in the fur-trimmed jacket who ran out to join them while Minene was gesturing to the people she was talking to in a way that said they were welcome to investigate. She looked rather irritated.

“Huh, I don’t think we’ve met this group yet…,” commented Yukiteru, blinking.

“That’s Izaya,” Akise said, glancing behind him. “We also have Suzuya, the albino here… and Twelve.” As the three approached, the one called Twelve waved happily.

“…Did we miss the good part…?” asked Suzuya, looking disappointed.

“Yikes, it doesn’t look so good…” Twelve rubbed the back of his head. “Only one casualty, though?”

“Seems like it,” Yukiteru answered, wringing his wrists.

“I wonder,” Izaya grinned, “…who did this…”

At the first loud commentary given by Izaya, Roy heard Yato beginning to laugh a choking, bitter laugh. He spat up more blood.

“What is it?” Roy asked curtly, his tone cool.

“You’ve got such a mess on your hands, and you don’t even have any idea what it is,” Yato remarked. “What an ironic calamity.” He began to snicker cruelly, but it died. His eyes narrowed, his expression stone. “Oh. …Here that person comes.”

Izaya had gone into the residential area upon Rika’s remark that the mean one was with the last member of their group, a military man who was very nice. As he approached Roy, he greeted him with a cheery, “Oh, I’m supposing you’re the military man with a fiery temper?”

Roy stiffened. “…What.” He frowned deeply. “Who said—?”

“Me, just now.” Izaya smiled with cold eyes, and peered around him to see Yato getting slowly to his feet with Nora steadying him. “Hoh~” Izaya’s eyes widened in anticipation. This would be interesting! “Would you look at this? Careful with this one – he could snap and kill me in an instant, and that would be rather unfortunate.”

Roy looked back at Yato, keeping a close eye on even the slightest of his movements.

Yato lacked expression. He was silent, and Nora merely stared at Izaya in discontent, holding onto Yato’s side.

“Wow, these guys really did you in,” Izaya grinned thinly. “Yato-san, you sure have come a long way, hah? Feel any better about yourself? Do you think that girl is proud? You think Yukine’s soul is at peace? I wonder. Are you at peace, Yato-san? You sure are making a calamity of yourself. It’s what you’re made to be, isn’t it? Tell me… is it satisfying? Hah? I’m curious.” Izaya’s smile stretched. “You want to kill me? I’m sure you hate me. Well? What will you do? I have to admit I’m interested!”

“I’m sorry,” Yato answered hollowly.

Izaya lit up. “What’s thi—?”

“You misunderstand. You mean nothing to me.”

Izaya froze. He laughed, but there was a subtle uncertainty to it. “Is that really so? Some of your previous actions say otherwise.”

Roy looked between the two, unsure of the scene unfolding in front of him.

“Is that it? You’re real funny, pretending you’re not bothered anymore,” Izaya said. “Not that it matters in the end. Is it that you can’t handle it?”

“No, it’s not any of that,” said Yato. His smile was stained, his teeth red from the blood he’d hacked up just a few moments ago. “You’re just not worth remembering, you arrogant bastard.” He looked at Nora. “Hiki,” he said calmly, and as she became a sword, he disappeared with her in a flash of blue.

Izaya stared at the spot where he’d been blankly. He looked as though he’d been slapped square in the face. Roy had turned, looking out for anywhere he might have gone. By the time the two had made it back to the others, an alliance had been made between Groups 3 and 6.

The rain began to slow.

 

Chapter 48: Late

Chapter Text

 

“…I’ve gotta admit it’s strange.” Senji’s voice was quiet in comparison to the whispering rain around the four-person group. “It’s been awhile since I’ve been in a city…”

“You from the country, then?” asked Rin, eyes closed.

“Nah. Prison.”

“Really!” Hide remarked. No judgment, just surprise.

“What for?” frowned Rin.

Shinichi remained quiet throughout the exchange.

“It’s… ah…” Senji was scratching at the back of his head. “Kind of a long story, actually.”

“You don’t gotta tell,” Hide waved him off, countenance warm. “I like comedies anyway.”

Senji chuckled a bit at that.

“Me, on the other hand, I live in Tokyo,” remarked Hide, stretching as he walked. None of them had slept much, but to be completely honest, Hide hadn’t been sleeping well for some time before this game anyway.

Shinichi added quietly, “Me too.”

“That makes two!” the bleached-blond boy grinned. “But we’re from different realities – what if, like, I could meet up with my realm’s you when I get home? And then you’d find your realm’s me! How weird would that be? What if we’ve met or something, but none of us could possibly know just because we’re from parallel worlds?”

Shinichi shrugged and answered with a vague half-smile. “Tokyo is a big place, Hide-kun.”

“So?”

“Talk about different realms…,” Senji laughed nervously. The Deadman felt chills down his back. “Say, what year are you? Probably same as me, actually – why bother?”

“I’m from 2004,” Rin remarked thoughtfully.

“Hm.” Shinichi touched his chin. “2015.”

“2013 – weird,” Hide began to laugh. “Hey, Shinichi, look for a twenty-one-year-old me! That is, if you can find him.”

Senji shook his head. “…2024 on my end. Man, why the fuck are we all from different years like that? Eh… whatever. Still stands that… yeah, that happened in 2014…”

“What did?” frowned Rin, crossing her arms. “What are you going on about without saying?”

Senji grunted. “I used to live in Tokyo, see. Where I’m from, there was a heinous earthquake that rocked Japan ten years ago… Yeah, 2014. I’ll never forget it: April fourth. It happened in the afternoon…” The good-natured convict grew solemn. “It was… devastating. So many people…” He closed his eyes. “…Thousands. What was the count again…? Probably at least 150K. No, more than that… The Great Tokyo Earthquake… It sank about 70% of Tokyo. Most of it, just gone. So… freakin’ fast, just—gone. Imagine the chaos that rose up there. Imagine the anarchy in the nearby regions. God… Actually, don’t. You don’t have to deal with that shit.” He paused. “In fact… it’s kinda comforting knowing that there are… parallel universes, I guess… where none of that shit went down.” He sighed heavily. “Tokyo was the last city I was in before I got arrested.”

Shinichi’s eyes narrowed slightly in something like sympathy. “Jeez,” said Hide, looking at him with wide eyes. “That’s… scary, really. Only a year away from when I’m from.”

“…I’m sorry,” said Rin genuinely, closing her eyes.

“I mean, that’s ten years ago for me, now,” Senji shrugged, eyes far away. “Maybe it changed anyone in Japan… in my realm – if there had been anyone else from my realm, I could guarantee you that they were greatly affected by that thing. I’m sure the area’s much better now, I just haven’t been… you know… outside.”

Shinichi blinked, looking down. Realm of… Deadmen? Weren’t there two others… who…? He thought he remembered what they looked like. He’d only faced one of them, but to his knowledge, they… probably weren’t still alive. He decided not to bring them up.

“Mm, so how do you feel about the rain, having been in prison for ten years or so?” asked Rin, hugging herself in the now-downpour.

Senji laughed heartily, at last sounding like himself again. “It’s fuckin’ awesome! I haven’t even seen the sky in ages, it feels like…” He looked up into the dark, wet sky with something like hope. “Feels good.”

In the symphony of raindrops, they heard a crash from far behind them. “Thunder?” guessed Hide, looking back with the others.

To the northwest was a lightning storm of crimson and cerulean. “A battle,” said Rin lowly, arms lowering unconsciously as though to prepare for a fight.

“Man, it looks super fun,” sighed Senji, crossing his own arms. “I wish I could catch a real fight again. I wanna face that god guy… Or that kid with the machine gun.”

Roppi? Shinichi blinked.

“Or whoever’s fighting over there, honestly,” the Deadman finished thoughtfully.

“Don’t you have enough injuries?” huffed Rin, giving him a look.

“What?” he cried. “We picked out all of our bullets – just because my sternum’s broken doesn’t mean that I can’t fight, c’mon!”

While Rin heaved an exasperated sigh, Hide took to laughing again. Lightly, Shinichi began to smile.

“Well, do you suggest we head back and investigate?” asked Shinichi, and Rin shook her head.

“No way.”

“Yeah, the fighting’ll be done by the time we get there, anyway…,” grumbled Senji.

“Alright.” Shinichi closed his eyes. They pressed on.


“You’re hurt.”

Yato didn’t look at her. “I know.” He took his jacket and shirt off in preparation of the bandaging of his newly-opened wound. He was still shaky from the electric shock he received from the dark-clad hero, especially combined with the fact he had just teleported – and in this place, that took a lot out of him. After fumbling with the sleeves of his long-sleeved white shirt beneath his track suit jacket, trying to rip a bandage off for himself, he eventually gave in and allowed Nora to rip apart the lower part of her kimono. As she gently and precisely patched him up as he stared nowhere without expression, he noticed that the lack of garments on her leg revealed a gash on her calf. “…You’re hurt.” He returned the remark.

She only smiled gently at him. “That is from a while ago… Don’t worry.”

“Who?” Short. To-the-point.

“…A half-ghoul who called herself Eto.”

He looked at her face, noting a cut under her left eye. “And your face?”

“A Deadman who called herself the Wretched Egg. It doesn’t matter; both are dead now.”

“Where else are you hurt?”

“It doesn’t bother me.” She looked at him. “That man; what is his name? The one with the fur jacket.”

Yato looked away. “…Izaya.”

“I knew you hadn’t forgotten him. He’s actually quite important, isn’t he?”

“Not exactly.”

She tilted her head. “Did he kill your other Shinki?”

“…Not exactly,” he repeated, expression shrouded.

“Does he remind you of Father? Is that it?”

Yato didn’t respond.

Nora only hugged him gently, careful of his freshly bandaged wound. “Don’t worry. Father cares for both of us. That person… Izaya, he doesn’t care for anybody.”

The god stood abruptly, grabbing his shirt and putting it back on along with the jacket for his track suit. “I know what I said will throw him off. That’s all I wanted.” His tone was dismissive. He zipped up his jersey all the way, pausing at his neck as though noticing there was something missing. He disregarded it. “There’s still one other group we haven’t fought yet… Let’s go.” Yes, one group they hadn't fought yet; one last bridge he had to burn before he couldn't turn back anymore.

Smiling again, Nora nodded and got to her feet, taking his hand contentedly. “Let’s.”


Her chest was tight; her gut was screaming at her that something was wrong. As Akira entered the Emergency Room to join with Saiko and Kaneki, she struggled to pinpoint whether her premonition was warning her of the shadow of Seidou as he left her… or of the hospital room she was now entering with much apprehension.

Saiko greeted her heartily upon her entry: “Akira! Look, Touka-chan – she’s up!”

Blinking, Akira closed the door behind her and approached Touka who was sitting up in bed with a soft smile on her features. “You took care of me, Akira…” The ghoul closed her eyes. “I’m very grateful.”

“It was the only thing to do,” Akira answered in clipped tones.

“It wasn’t, and we both know it.”

“I’m just glad you’re awake, Touka-chan…,” said Saiko, eyes becoming watery. Kaneki sat at her bedside, seemingly overcome with relief.

“I’m sorry for worrying everyone…” The ghoul looked rather regretful. “I didn’t… want to cause so much trouble…”

“It’s fine,” Kaneki insisted immediately. “I want you to be safe…”

“I’m very glad that you’re alright yourself, Kaneki… It’s—reassuring, having you around.” She averted her eyes to the side. “There was a team member of mine, who said that I…” She closed her violet orbs, shook her head, and looked at the white-haired half-ghoul with warmth. “Well, I’ll tell you someday. In the future. I know you’ll come back… in my time, too.”

Kaneki’s eyes hazed in confusion, but he smiled anyway. “You’ve… calmed down a lot, huh, Touka-chan?”

“It was kinda weird,” Saiko admitted, grinning tiredly. “We got to get to know her before, and just when we were acquainted, you know… she jumps forward and is like this. Super strange.”

…Fast forwarding…? Akira was staring intently at the ground, her eyes lost in thought, narrowing in contemplation.

Touka smiled an exhausted smile, as though she was remembering the weight of the world that she needed to carry upon waking once more. “I wanted to thank all of you… For everything. I… am happy to have worked with you; Saiko, Akira… And I’m so happy… to see you, Kaneki…” Her smile was trembling. “I don’t know exactly how long I’ll be up; I’m very… tired…”

“That’s fine.” Kaneki shook his head. “You need your rest.”

“If I remain like this, I think it may be best to leave me behind, you know,” she said. “I can take care of myself…”

“No way!” cried Saiko.

“I won’t allow it,” Akira agreed.

“Never,” Kaneki said firmly.

Furrowing her brow, she said, “I kind of figured I’d get that response, though…” But she was smiling. Kaneki, Saiko, and Akira could all sense her inexpressible gratitude. The four spoke lightly; it was all positive talk. Akira could sense the air getting thicker, darker. With each passing moment, she could sense the atmosphere shifting and swelling around them, becoming saturated like the air outside. Oddly, Touka was just exuding her elated light, speaking animatedly with the three of them. Gradually, Akira watched as Saiko and Kaneki became aware of the hanging clouds. There came a point where all of them knew. Kaneki’s own heart had been gripped with something cold and sopping, oozing with something close to dread. Touka’s lively speech; that spark in her eyes… Looking into her orbs, he could suddenly hear Delic, forcefully shouting to the ceiling in one last outcry before he was silenced. The term ‘terminal lucidity’ occurred to him, and he refused to acknowledge such a reality.

She was very tired. Touka asked to rest with a heart-filled apology to the others.

“You need to rest—to get better,” Kaneki said to her. “We’re making it out of this… alright, Touka-chan?”

She smiled. Nodded. The quiet settled.

Konoha burst through the front doors of the hospital awhile after, Shintaro and Roppi in tow. Setting them on their feet, the android tilted his head at the frazzled Shintaro as he adjusted the medical bag on his shoulder. “They—this way,” he said breathlessly, and began to lead the way in a quest for the ER, a door away. Clutching the machine gun close, Roppi followed along with the spacey Konoha.

Upon the opening of the door, a scene was presented to them: Kaneki, his face in his hands, curled forward with the weight of undeserving guilt. Akira’s head was bowed, her hand to her mouth. Her eyes were closed. Saiko was whimpering quietly, sitting on a chair in the corner. Touka lie in bed, pale and motionless.

Shintaro felt his blood draining from his face. Suddenly the medical bag seemed so worthless. He staggered to a stop, his expression shifting to one of dismay. “No…”

Akira looked at the three entering the room. Her tone was level, very controlled. “Shintaro.” She nodded to him in acknowledgment. She looked at the other two: Roppi had his gaze averted from everyone, perhaps shameful. Konoha was looking around, unable to figure out what kind of scene they’d walked into.

“A-Akira,” Shintaro nodded, looking desperately to Kaneki. Glancing at Saiko. “Is—?” He didn’t want to ask.

“Are we too late?” Roppi’s voice was low, barely audible.

“Shintaro said that we needed this bag,” said Konoha, “…to help someone who was in trouble.”

Akira stiffly shook her head. “Touka is passed.”

Shintaro’s ears were ringing. He found himself kneeling on the ground, sitting on his feet. He couldn’t remember falling. “…But… I have it…”

“There’s nothing to do now… I’m sorry,” said Akira, putting a hand on Shintaro’s shoulder.

“I-it only figures,” the hikkiNEET laughed weakly. “Kaneki… I’m so sorry…” And he sank, melting into his failures while Roppi was set aflame with his shame.

Slowly, the white-haired half-ghoul got to his feet, giving Touka’s hand one last squeeze before releasing her. “Please… don’t blame yourselves,” Kaneki made an attempt at a smile.

“Let’s step out into the lobby,” said Akira. “I’m sure none of us wish to remain here.”

And they did – the five of them exited the ER with some relief; Akira helped Shintaro back to his feet before Konoha could scoop him up and carry him again. Kaneki tucked his close friend into her bed before leaving, himself. Saiko was struggling to keep her eyes from stopping with their own form of rain.

“I’m so sorry, Kaneki, if I—if I hadn’t gotten lost, if I hadn’t stopped at all, if—”

Kaneki cut Shintaro off with a simple raise of his hand. “Your journey wasn’t fruitless.” He nodded at Roppi and Konoha. “I’m glad you’re back, Roppi. I was genuinely worried about your safety… And as for you…” He looked up at Konoha, examining him quietly. “Shintaro, it seems… you’ve gotten your friend back?”

“I—yeah…” Shintaro’s brow furrowed, a weak smile curling his mouth.

“I am Konoha,” said the android, bowing expressionlessly. “I am very sorry for… um… I mean, I’m sorry for a lot.”

“It wasn’t you doing those nasty things,” Kaneki assured. “It’s alright. I understand. Having someone inside of you that you don’t understand…” He was touching his chin, his grey eyes clouded.

“Let’s not look at the negative aspects,” Akira came in, her hand on the back of the sniffling Saiko. “You came back with a relatively powerful weapon, a medical bag for use in the future, and two friends of yours that I’m sure you’re happy to have brought back.”

Hesitantly, Shintaro nodded.

“Happy you—you’re okay, Shintan-san,” mumbled Saiko, who then proceeded to run and hug him, much to his bemusement.

“Ah—?” A girl is hugging me. Somehow, it was the only thought he could get through his head.

“I apologize,” said Akira, bowing to Roppi and Konoha. “It’s a pleasure to meet the two of you. I’m Akira Mado – Akira is fine. This is Saiko Yonebayashi.”

The fellow NEET released him, rubbing at her eyes while Roppi rolled his eyes in the background and Kaneki and Akira smiled vaguely. “Saiko’s okay to call me,” she said.

“Sai… ko… and, Akira…,” Konoha repeated slowly.

“Yes, and I’m Kaneki,” greeted the half-ghoul, closing his eyes and lowering his head in respect. “I’m glad it worked out that we could meet you properly…”

Shintaro watched the scene normally, but felt rather strange. The world seemed to tilt, and he blinked, wondering why his vision seemed so bright. Something Aureus had said began to echo in his mind. “…If you don’t want any more power players… get back to your group. Don’t let Seidou select his special item on those pillars.” His head was spinning. “Say, guys… where’s Seidou?”

“He’ll be happy to see you,” Kaneki nodded.

“Seidou’s with Shiragin, Kiri-tsun, and Light,” explained Saiko, holding up a finger.

“Kiritsugu is… selecting his special item…” Akira froze.

“Hey, where is it?” Shintaro stood immediately. When did I get on the ground? Something felt off. “We need to get there, right now.”

“Understood. Follow me.” Akira was leading the way – they were suddenly on the stairs. Shintaro was keenly aware of every crack on the wall, every fold and shift in the clothes of the people running in front of him. His breathing was heavy with the urgency and excessive movement (at least for a shut-in like himself), but oddly he felt as though his body was moving on its own. His steps did not falter even as his discomfort grew. His body didn’t match his mind. What was it?

Ah, wait, where’s Roppi?

They burst into room 2-15 to see Seidou at the pillar; Shintaro choked out a desperate, “Wait!” and his and Roppi’s group leader turned to them, relief flooding his expression, his brown eyes glimmering.

“You’re—alright…” Group 2’s leader approached him quickly, immediately checking his body, asking him whether he was hurt. Shintaro was distinctly aware of the contrast the dried blood from battles passed made with the dirtied blue of Seidou’s suit. His worry was evident, and somehow Shintaro got the impression that Seidou had just been about to teeter off the edge of some important precipice – a decision he’d been fighting with; a conclusion that he needed to make… maybe about Shintaro’s departure. Now, his arrival had filled his expression with a fiery hope and earnest determination – yeah, that was the Seidou he knew.

Shirazu had come over too, slapping Shintaro on the back and congratulating him, telling the NEET how freakin’ scared he’d been when he disappeared. Light was friendly, but Shintaro felt like he was honestly indifferent to his return… He could see it in the new member’s eyes. Speaking of new members, there was also a redheaded boy that Shintaro didn’t recognize.

Seidou was praising him for a job well done… now, reprimanding him: “…But damn it, Shintaro… Don’t you dare do that again! A-and that’s an order!”

Swathed in the warmth of their camaraderie, Shintaro was shaken from such an image.

“Shintaro, snap out of it.” It was Roppi, his voice both annoyed and concerned.

The red-jerseyed boy blinked bemusedly – he was standing on the linoleum of the lobby and Roppi was in front of him, his pale hands on Shintaro’s jerseyed shoulders. The hikkiNEET opened his mouth, then closed it again. Around him, Konoha, Kaneki, and Saiko were all peering at him in alarm while Akira peered less and gazed intensely instead.

“Are you alright?” inquired Kaneki.

Konoha tilted his head. “Your… eyes, do that too?”

“No way,” Shintaro whispered.

“What is it, Shintaro?” Roppi questioned, his own red eyes narrowed in urgency. “What happened?”

“U-uh, we need—I mean, um, where’s Seidou?”

“Mm.” Kaneki nodded as Roppi moved out of the way. “He’ll be happy to see you.”

“Seidou’s with Shiragin, Kiri-tsun, and Light,” explained Saiko, holding up a finger.

Shintaro felt like he was listening to an echo, or a very realistic and eerie déjà vu. He shifted uneasily. Before Akira could tell him that Kiritsugu was selecting his special item, he said, “Let’s go now.” Akira appeared to give him a look, though that could have been his imagination.

It was as Akira was taking a breath to respond that it happened – a blood-curdling, agonized scream pierced the air, reverberating in their heads and sending it echoing in their minds even as it continued. Shintaro thought that maybe he heard Akira whisper Seidou's name but he was paying too much attention to the unceasing outcry that tore at his chest and at his eardrums.

Everyone shared an uneasy glance. Nothing was said. Nothing needed to be said. They were all suspended in a moment that didn’t exist, yes, even after the screaming had ended they found they were still in the same place, having spent not even a moment there. Having spent a forever there.

Akira and Kaneki then ran for the stairwell, everyone else following along behind.

 

Chapter 49: Forward

Notes:

One may have suspected that quarantine might have helped me remember to update, but alas, it has made my memory worse. Sorry 'bout that. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy this week's update!

Chapter Text

 

Seidou and Shirazu were the ones that told the newcomer – apparently Kiritsugu’s son? – all about what the game was and all the developments that had happened already. Shirazu was rather exasperated throughout the entire explanation, if only because they had just explained this to Kiritsugu and Light just the day before. Understandably, their description was notably truncated.

“So to sum it all up,” said Shirazu in the end, “it’s a battle royal of a bunch of different people from a bunch of different realms. Pretty crazy.” He paused. “…Sorry you got caught up in it, really…”

The boy with auburn hair laughed weakly. He wore a blue and white long-sleeve shirt with simple blue jeans. Scratching at his head, he responded, “Honestly, stuff like this has happened before…”

“Then hopefully it will be relatively easier for you to adjust,” Light smiled. “I know I’m having a bit of trouble with it myself.” And he laughed lightly.

“Yeah… I hope so…” He didn’t seem too sure.

“Right,” said Shirazu. “So, uh, we never gave you a chance to introduce yourself—sorry. What’s your name, anyway?”

“Oh.” He blinked. “Emiya—I mean… Shirou Emiya.” After pausing a moment in consideration of his next comment, he asked, “So then… my dad was really here before me?”

“Yep,” Shirazu grinned. “He was pretty cool.”

Nodding, Shirou seemed to look far-off momentarily before getting pulled back by Seidou.

“Because we went on about our skills and whatever, why don’t you tell us a bit about yourself?” The brown-haired CCG officer smiled at him in encouragement, and Shirou blinked his golden-brown eyes.

“Oh, um… Myself, huh?” He’d just been told that Seidou was well-trained at an academy, while Shirazu had admitted that even though he’d gone to an academy for the same thing, he pretty much failed it even though he was an officer now anyway. Light, on the other hand, was armed with his intelligence. Shirou thought on this. “I… can fix up broken things,” he offered. “Machines, weapons, anything electronic…” He paused. “…Er, and because I’m from a realm with—mages… ah, I can use my magic for that, or… I can use my specialty, which is Projection.”

“Projection?” Seidou repeated, curious. “Sounds cool… What does it do?”

“Well…” Shirou seemed almost self-conscious about it; probably didn’t like the attention. “I can just… copy things, that’s all. It’s not too big of a deal… but… Seidou, that crossbow, there – what did you call it? A quinque?”

“That’s right,” Seidou confirmed.

“For example, I could scan your quinque and recreate it to use myself, if I wanted…” Shirou paused. “…Not that I’d really need to do that.”

“Can you copy it even if it’s made of organic material?” inquired the CCG officer, his brow furrowed.

“Yeah,” agreed Shirazu. “I mean, it’s made out of… kagune, you know… The kakuhou of a dead ghoul.” He looked to be uncomfortable talking about it.

“If I can scan it, I can copy it,” Shirou shrugged. “Once you know how… it’s really not all that hard. Really—it’s not that big of a deal.”

“But think about it!” Seidou exclaimed with excitement. “That means you have the ability to fix any broken weapon, right? How amazing is that? You don’t even need your own weapon! Trust me, it’s a big enough deal for me.” He grinned at Shirou and the younger smiled kindly back. “Seriously, though, I can’t wait for Kaneki to hear about this.”

“Oo, yeah, Kane-kun will be stoked to hear there’s magic, finally,” Shirazu laughed. “I’ll bet.”

Shirou laughed a bit at that.

“It’s interesting, watching what we’d call ‘fantasy’ become ‘reality,’” remarked Light thoughtfully.

“Anyway, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” said Seidou matter-of-factly, bowing to Shirou. “Sorry about the messy intros and… stuff… When the item was selected, we weren’t really expecting something like a switch out…”

“Generation, huh,” Light commented with vague amusement. Those game masters were really getting a kick out of this, weren’t they?

“But there is one thing,” said Seidou, “that I want to ask, Shirou…”

Shirou blinked. “…Yeah? What is it?”

“Your father… Kiritsugu.” Seidou hesitated, unsure whether he should bring such a thing up. He decided that yes, he needed to know. “…Did he ever become a hero?” Shirou had already implied that where he was from, his father was passed. But…

Gaze clouding, Shirou seemed to think on this for a moment. Then, he smiled. “He became my hero,” he said warmly. “It’s sad… He passed from this life thinking that he wasn’t anything like a hero, but he was mine. Maybe he wasn’t the hero of justice that he dreamed to be, but… through him, I… Now I want to carry on that dream. Become that Hero of Justice. Save everyone. You know?”

Smiling, Seidou nodded. “…I know.”

Shirou, Shirazu, and Light conversed for some time after that, while Seidou threw in a few words here and there. He was too busy thinking to interact much. I wonder whether that ghoul’s okay. If it weren’t… Grudgingly, Seidou shook his head. …If she weren’t, they’d come up and let us know. I’ll wait until that happens. Shirou should be a bit more comfortable before we introduce him to four more people… Sighing, Seidou leaned on the wall next to the door, watching the others. Light kept glancing at him, but he really didn’t care all too much. Is that really okay, anyway? For us to take care of a ghoul? I mean, it should be different for Kaneki because he’s artificial… right? Maybe I’m just thinking too much. He thought of the Gourmet: the ghoul he was tasked with capturing back at home. He tried to protect Kaneki, huh…? He thought of how bluntly insistent Akira was of taking care of Touka, as if that made any sense. So do ghouls feel emotion like humans or not? If they do, isn’t it even worse that they do what they do? Do they care at all? I wonder, do they have a sense of camaraderie? Maybe I’ll ask Kaneki.

Seidou paused, then rubbed at his forehead before running his hand through his hair, pushing down his ahoge only to have it pop back up when his hand was through. I make pretty much no sense. Jeez. Then again, Akira’s not making any sense to me right now either. …But at least she’s consistent. I think. And she’s never really made any sense to me to begin with. I… still seriously need to apologize to her. Honestly, what’s her problem? Cue another sigh. What’s my problem?

The CCG officer gazed at Shirou as he spoke lightly with the other two, Shirazu rather animated while Light was calm, friendly, and polite. Kiritsugu… whatever happened to you… I hope you know that you were this kid’s hero… wherever you are… He closed his eyes. Is that what this circumstance is trying to teach me, here? To carry on that dream? …Did he really think I had the capability of becoming a hero? Even though I’m always losing… And I… Thoughts of Shintaro and Roppi surfaced. Thoughts of Tsuki. …I can’t even lead a group of three other people. I let Tsuki die… Roppi just went AWOL, and then Shintaro went off on his own—god, I hope he’s okay… Please let him be okay… Let them both be…

He closed his eyes. What a failure I am. He thought of the morgue far below them, the dead laid out in rows. I know that lives must be lost along the way, but… He looked at Shirou again. ‘Save everyone,’ huh? Is that what I’m saying I want? Maybe. Is it just an ideal, like Kiritsugu said? Probably… And even the best general has to lose some of his men. Like in that cop show – ‘The higher your ranking, the higher your death count. I don’t mean blood on your hands; I mean the blood on your conscience.’ I’m so new at this… of course I’m going to trip up, right? …Right? But why should that have to cost someone’s life? Someone’s rationality? Someone’s well-being, if it isn’t my own?

Alright, from what I’ve figured, Akira’s lost at least two members of her group, but does that mean I beat her? Could we really measure by loss of team members? Everything about that sounds just terrible. No—at the very least… I can keep the names and faces. God, in this position, how can I tell whether I’m incompetent or doing what is right with a cost? Can I save everyone? Can’t I? Am I just not capable because I’m not good enough? Or is it a necessary sacrifice? How can I tell? Who do I ask? Who can I go to when I’m the one to go to…?

…As always, Akira knows her way around far better than I do. But surely… that can be attested to experience. How much more has she seen than I? I haven’t even gone on a legit serious mission before this whole multi-realm gaming experience of death… or whatever. How fair is that? Maybe I’d be able to help if I could just get a grasp of what the hell I’m doing! If I knew what it was like to be in a real battle… Yeah, I can’t even tell whether I was effective or not in the last big one, and our very first showdown ended in utter disaster…

…Shintaro deserves better. Roppi deserves better. Tsuki deserves better. Have I been able to effectively lead them at all? I want to think so. I act like I think so. But honestly, what have I ever done but act the opposite of how I feel? God damn it, Seidou, get it together!

…If I selected ‘FastForward,’ would I know better…? Would I be able to better take care of them? Would I know more? –Of course I’d know more, but… If I hold fast to this dream… Maybe… His hope pulsed through him, rich with anticipation. Expectation. Optimism. Courage.

He proposed the idea to the other three.

“Hm, whaddaya think about Shin and Roppi, then?” asked Shirazu, scratching at his chin. “I mean, there’s no way to tell when they’ll be back…”

“…Or if they’ll be back,” added Light soberly.

Shirazu swallowed.

Shirou had that distant concern about him. He didn’t know these people, but already he had heard about them from Shirazu and Light. In spite of his never having met them, he was still worried. Seidou liked him. He seemed to have a passionate heart.

“…Um, well, I don’t see why it would be necessarily a bad idea,” shrugged Shirazu, shifting back to the topic. “I mean, I’m admittedly a little curious as to what happened with ya that I haven’t met you yet. I’m totally thinking that you transferred to a different country, or somethin’.”

“Maybe China,” Seidou said thoughtfully. “My partner and superior used to work there, I hear. Maybe we’ll head out there together… or something.” He sighed. “I just… want to be able to handle all of this better, you know? Maybe then I can take care of Shintaro. Take care of Roppi. Help take care of you guys…”

“I think you’re doing a pretty good job already,” Shirazu admitted.

Seidou flushed at the compliment – was he really all that good? He still didn’t believe so.

“But if you think you’ll be able to contribute more than you are already, then I say there’s no harm in giving it a try,” said Light, and Shirazu nodded.

“I mean—I don’t suppose the fast forward thing can get you killed, can it?” asked Shirou, brow creased in worry.  “I don’t want you speeding through time to find yourself dead… Or—well, who knows how much you’ll have changed?” Somehow it seemed as though Shirou knew what he was talking about; like he had some sort of experience on the matter.

“I mean, that’s true…” Seidou touched his chin, deep in thought.

“It’ll soothe your curiosity,” offered Light.

“Yeah, and if one thing’s for sure,” added Shirazu, “you’ll better understand where Akira ‘n Saiko ‘n I are comin’ from. You’ve gotta be stronger by then; probably have gotten a promotion. It’s one thing to fantasize about what might’ve happened; you’d actually know… you know?”

Light closed his eyes. “And if, by chance, you were to die in this game, you’ll at least have fulfilled more of your regular life.”

“…That’s true, too,” conceded Seidou. He thought of his mom. Of his sister. “Hm…” When something bothers you, you mull over it and throw yourself into turmoil until you can work it out, right? That’s how it works for me, anyway. With all of the problems I’ve been given here, if I go forward… will I be able to better work them out? Will I have the tools of experience at my disposal, then? I…

“I guess I’ll see what I can get out of the game master that shows up when you activate it,” sighed Seidou, and Shirazu nodded and said, “Go for it,” while Light shrugged.

“We’ll see if that person will give you anything,” said the Death Note owner.

Nodding, Seidou approached the pillar, and the static silhouette was projected into view. Shirou watched with interest while Light and Shirazu watched with a little less intrigue. “Hello there, Seidou Takizawa! Due to the current circumstances, you can activate this items module all on your own!

“Yeah, yeah,” Seidou waved them off. “Hey, I have a question.”

I may or may not answer!” the Voice responded cheerily.

His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “If I select FastForward, will you send me to my grave?”

The silhouette laughed heartily. “No, no, don’t you worry about that! None of our ‘FastForward’ selections would ever just kill someone off. That’s just silly!

“I’m guessing you won’t say a word about whether jumping ahead will be beneficial to me or not…”

That’s part of the gamble,” said the game master, and the silhouette appeared to grin in the black static. “Though in answer to your doubts, I can tell you that you would definitely be stronger.

Seidou’s head lowered as he faced the decision before him. But stronger how? Knowing the Voice, it could mean mentally, physically, both, whatever… With my luck, maybe I’ll be paralyzed from the waist down but god forbid I back down on my beliefs… or something. He closed his eyes. As of right now, I don’t know that I’m fit to be a leader. Shintaro… if he comes back, I do want to be stronger for him – and god, Roppi… I’ll have to scold him, seriously… Yeah, I’ll become better. Maybe not better than Akira, but that shouldn’t matter anyway, right, Shintaro? Look at me; I’m always judging myself in relation to others. Jeez, Seidou… grow up! Opening his eyes in firm resolve, he straightened his posture. If I just hold onto that dream… carry it with me… Maybe this’ll hurt. Maybe it’ll hurt a lot. Maybe I’ll lose more people. But, you know… Maybe it’ll get me a few steps closer to becoming a hero.

He pressed the button.

He thought that perhaps the Voice was beginning to laugh before it glitched away into nonexistence.

It was strange, to be enveloped in the light instead of blinded by it. It was white, sure, but it wasn’t blinding – it more reminded him of staring at a blank page that reflected the sunlight. Maybe it kind of hurt your eyes at first, but then it was just… white. Blank. Nothing.

He couldn’t feel the ground beneath him. It had shriveled away with the rest of reality as his head was flooded with experiences that he somehow knew were being perceived in the blink of an eye even though he felt like he was experiencing it all real-time.

It came in bursts of passion, bouts of emotion like a rolling tide – there was his family; he was being greeted warmly by his dog.

There was his will, written in preparation for a raid that could mean the end of him. I don’t want to die.

He remembered to hold onto his will, yes, his current motives. His dream.

He was rolling and tumbling through time and space – he was fighting back-to-back with Akira; who would’ve thought they’d make such a great team!

He jumped forward and into an abyss, his arm ripped from his side in a splatter of red, he was sure. Hold on.

The air was thick. He was breathing liquid, yes, it tasted of iron. He was alone. Isolated. The needles, the smell of disinfectant, the bright lights. His bare body, trembling, as he heard a doctor’s voice at his side: “Congratulations, Seidou Takizawa… You’ve been promoted to a ghoul.” It was hot, so hot, the saws and the knives and the tests and the blood, his blood, there was never enough water to clean it all because it kept happening over and over and over again—his fear clutched him, consumed him, hollowed out his insides to the point where he felt transparent, yes—

He thought he heard screaming. Years of torture – what was happening? It was his own voice. The pain was unbearable, multiplying on itself and getting worse and worse and oh how he thought that it couldn’t get any worse and if it did he wouldn’t be able to take it he wouldn’t be able to stand it he wouldn’t be able to oh no he couldn’t but it did it did get worse and he did have to take it he had to he had to and oh was there anything left for him to—

Maybe I want to die after all.

And he tried to hold onto that thing, his will, his dream, but as hope and fear warred with one another throughout his entire being, as hope dissipated and all he could feel was hollow despair… The hunger, the blackouts, the guilt and the trepidation and the sheer harshness of this reality—He tried holding on, he did, but the harder he tried to grasp it the more it would slip away – he could feel it seeping through his fingers as he lost it he lost it he lost it and he couldn’t take it anymore he didn’t want it anymore make it stop make it—

And then it ended – the screaming, the pain, no, it dissolved into

Nothing at all.

He felt nothing at all.

Just a pit in his stomach, a black hole in his heart. A broken, buried soul. Something inside of him had strained and snapped and slipped, no, not slipped he

He killed that poor fucking excuse of a man that called himself Seidou Takizawa. And I have taken his place, said his fractured thoughts.

It was over now. There was no light to look at anymore; Seidou was on the ground and feeling the linoleum under the palms of his hands, his black cloak pooling around him on the smooth flooring. His skin, pasty white. His nails, dyed black.

His vision had blurred, he was fighting to regain a sense of himself. He was on the floor, he was on his hands and knees and there—there, in front of him, was his quinque, lying on the floor within arm’s reach. He stared at it – he must have dropped it when, oh that was right he was in—it was a game he was in that he needed to…

He reached out to touch the crossbow. It was right there in front of him, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to so much as touch it. His thin fingers recoiled. Curling forward, he slowly, so slowly, brought himself to his feet.

Shirazu, Shirou, and Light had all shielded their eyes at first, as was the usual when it came to these pillars. But this time their attention had been drawn by a heart-wrenching scream that ripped from Seidou’s throat as he succumbed to the flow of time. Shirazu felt horror stab him through the chest. Even Light seemed frozen by the sound. Despite the brightness, Shirazu had to lift his head to look. His terror overrode the pain dealt to his eyes as he looked into the paralyzed form of Seidou within the white.

They thought the screaming would never end. What could any of them do? It was horrible, horrible. Perhaps think of second-hand trauma. Third-hand, even. Hear the screams of some poor victim; hear it in your dreams. It never really ends. Even after the screaming stopped and it burbled into hysterics, Shirazu could still hear those screams as clearly as he could see his father’s corpse, hanging from the rafters of his house. Trauma does these things, yes, it embeds itself in your mind so that it never ends. That horrendous past is your present. Shirazu thought to himself, I don’t think I can sleep tonight. He felt ill. Was Seidou okay?

And as the light subsided, they could at last see his form, curled on the ground with a long black cloak shrouding him. Shirazu thought to himself, His hair is white. He thought, Just like Kane-kun. He thought, He kinda looks familiar…

And as Seidou rose to his feet, if unsteadily, Shirazu could make out that his hair had grown out to just above his shoulders, messily framing his pale face, which was covered by his black-nailed hands. Shirazu remembered where he had seen him. He was horrified.

“Shirazu?” inquired Light. “What’s wrong?”

“…Owl, killed…” Shirazu swallowed. This ghoul is insane – he swept through hordes of CCG officers easy… He thought that for some reason he couldn’t breathe. He thought, That can’t be Seidou.

“Seidou, are you alright?” It was Shirou, his tone urgent. He smartly kept his distance with the others.

Slowly, Seidou dragged his hands down his face, his pale eyes hazy. Somehow, his once-brown eyes looked grey.

Shirazu thought to himself, He looks like a ghost. Almost… see-through, like.

Seidou looked at all of them with wide eyes, as though he couldn’t see them, either.

Shirazu thought to himself, Are we ghosts to him, too?

His lips had been dyed black. He didn’t seem to comprehend the question dealt him by Shirou. His mouth began to twist with humor, as though he thought their staring was comical. “…A…ah…”

“Seidou—man, is that you?” Shirazu’s voice was rather faint.

“Seidou… yeah, that’s me.” He slowly formed a grotesque version of a grin.

“Wh…what happened…?” breathed Shirazu, and Seidou turned his gaze to Shirou.

“You, you….” His grin widened. “Shi…rou, your father… Did he ever lecture you on… heroes, by any chance? Ever tell you… that you can’t save everyone?”

Shirou blinked. His eyes narrowed.

Seidou began to giggle. “Sacrifice one for the many or something… right?”

“…Yes…” All three of them were uncomfortably on-guard.

The ex-CCG officer’s smile dropped. “I am that sacrifice. Do you see me? Look at it. Look at me!” He broke into laughter. “I am the product of that bullshit ideal!” And he burst into hysterical laughter. “But that’s okay, because ‘heroes’ still exist. Ah, ah, the air smells so good, I, I, I am so… hungry. Say, say, I smell, I smell something tasty…” His left eye, much like Kaneki’s, began to swirl into black, the iris glowing red. In contrast, his human eye was pale—it might as well have not even been there.

Sweating, Shirazu took a step back. “…No way….”

Seidou lowered his head in his humorous hysteria, shoulders bunching around his neck as he curled forward. “Shirazu…” His sing-song tone was just slightly off-tune, sending chills down the partial-ghoul’s spine.

In his shocked fear, Shirazu stumbled backwards. He couldn’t wrap his head around it—no, this guy had worked with him since—since Delic…

The door burst open, and the scene froze as Akira and Kaneki burst in, Saiko and Shintaro and Roppi and Kuroha but all white and yellow now all following behind them. Even Seidou halted, looking at the five entering with wide, hollowed-out eyes that reflected his broken psyche. Kaneki had the impression of some ironic mirror image before him. It looked as though Seidou’s entire body had been bleached, his soul wrung out and sapped of all its color.

No, thought Seidou, taking an unconscious step backwards. No, no…no, no, no no no nononononononono… They were looking at him, all of them were looking at him, it was Akira, it was Shintaro, it was Kaneki, all in front of him, looking at him. He felt his mind threatening to black out – his vision was darkening; he couldn’t take it, he didn’t want it, he didn’t want

He curled, holding his hand over his ghoul eye, tittering madly. He seemed overcome with something so hilarious, but only he knew the joke. “…Uh-oh…,” he said in a sickeningly sweet kind of warning, and from his upper back came his kagune, yes, Seidou the half-ghoul, better known as Owl. They were like crystallized wings that exploded from his shoulders in all their dangerous, shimmering glory.

“Seidou, no,” Shintaro tried to cry out, but it came out much quieter than he had intended.

“Ready your weapons,” Akira gave the pained order with low-toned authority.

Seidou looked upwards. “…Heh.

The windows imploded, the glass shattering and scattering over Light, Shirou, and Shirazu. Brandishing his blade, the God of Calamity entered from the damp outside world, eyes glowing blue with lust for the color of heroes.

Seidou was on him in an instant, throwing the god off-guard. Though Yato made an attempt to dodge, all Seidou could smell was the fresh blood of the god, filling his senses with succulent longing, saliva dripping from his grinning chops. Though Yato could step to the side the first two swipes, Seidou made a move to pounce on him and the god raised his sword to point at him. The half-ghoul joyously allowed the blade to pierce him, the force of his gravity plunging the blade straight through his gut and out his back – Yes, thank you for letting me get this close…!

Yato tried to pull the blade out, but it was too late.

Though shaken, Akira ran over to the group that had been with Seidou; Saiko, Shintaro, and Konoha ran after her while Roppi and Kaneki remained frozen in place.

Kaneki tried to call out to stop him, head clouded with so many confusing and conflicting and cycling thoughts that never seemed to cease. No, wait, that was Yato, the friend they’d allied with in the alliance with Group 6, wasn’t it?

But Seidou couldn’t hear him – he was rabid, clutching at the god and tearing at him with his teeth, oh yes, that was good! Reality blurred from him – none of the others were in that room, no, he was alone with this god and that was all that mattered because boy oh boy was his flesh tasty!

Yato jerked backwards, trying to twist the blade in Seidou’s gut, but the half-ghoul’s other hand was gripping Nora with a now-sliced-up hand, oozing with blood that stained her silver with red. “You think that hurts me?” inquired Seidou, and Yato gritted his teeth, dragging him over the edge with him and pulling him out the window, where they both plummeted two stories below and to the ground. Seidou was howling with laughter. “I’m used to it! I’m used to it!” And he shrieked in manic glee as Yato finally yanked the blade from him, jumping backwards with his face twisted in a mix between a scowl and a grimace.

“What the hell?” Yato spat, clutching his shoulder where he’d been devoured.

Seidou just put his hands to his mouth in rapture. “Tasty! Tasty! Angel food cake or Devil’s Chocolate! Sweet, like candy, candy, fruits and parfaits perfect flavor—Good! Good! More!

From above came Konoha, eyes shining bright red as he made a crater in the ground he landed on. “Don’t hurt my friends,” he said simply to Yato, and he and Seidou went at him together.

“Careful of Seidou, Konoha!” cried Shintaro from above, his hands to the back of his neck in utter terror. “Oh, god…”

“We can’t just… let them at it,” said Kaneki. They were all standing at the edge of the second story, staring below out the broken windows and the crumbling walls where Konoha had burst through.

“Then we need to help,” Shirou said firmly.

“What happened to Seidou?” asked Shintaro faintly.

“Fast… forward…?” breathed Shirazu.

“He did,” confirmed Light, since Shirazu sounded so unsure.

“That is SS+ Rank Owl,” Akira said in a hollow tone. None of them could read her expression, but Kaneki felt sure he saw pain in her eyes. “An artificial half-ghoul.”

Kaneki felt something stirring inside of him, and he wasn’t too sure how to pinpoint it, but… Seidou, with his ghost-like aura, the way he seemed to glow white beneath the dark sky… Yes, he looked at him and thought with something like guilt, He went through what I did. This is what I look like to him. This is what I could be, right now.

Holding his stomach, he took a step back. He didn’t know how to feel about such a thing. He didn’t know how to react. He didn’t want to.

“W-we need to get down there,” said Shintaro nervously.

“But—why is Yato attacking us?” asked Shirazu.

“I like Yato, too,” Saiko said, voice taut.

“How do you know Yato?”

“He’s in a show called—”

“That doesn’t matter right now!” Roppi snapped. “We were just attacked by him, and he wants us hurt or dead! That’s all that matters – we need to fight back, and snap Seidou out of it—got it?!”

Shintaro looked at him. There was desperation shining in his eyes.

“Fuck this shit!” Shirazu yelped, and jumped out onto the street below to join the fight.

“W-wait, Shiragin!” wailed Saiko, bringing worriedly clutched fists to her chest.

“I need to help.” Kaneki’s voice. With resolve, he jumped after him.

“Ma… Kane-kun…!” Scrunching up her face in distress, Saiko jumped after them with a frantic battle cry.

Shirou’s eyes narrowed. “Trace on.” At his sides, two short swords materialized in a glimmer of electric teal. Grabbing onto the hilt of these weapons, he looked at the conglomerating group of fighters below. “Can someone give me a lift?”

“Stay here,” said Akira. “…Pleasure to meet you.” Her voice was toneless, her eyes flat. She didn’t look at him. “I am Akira, and I will be directing this for now. You should stay – we can’t just send everyone down there. There are too many strong players; I’d prefer that we keep you and Roppi up here to protect Light and Shintaro. It’s foolish to send everyone. It has the potential to get everyone wiped out at once.”

Frowning slightly, Shirou’s blades dissipated slowly, as if even they were hesitant not to fight.

“Roppi,” said Akira, and the bitter one stiffened. “How good is your aim? No bluffing. This is serious.”

He felt the hot coals of his common rage filling him. I wouldn’t bluff… But he shoved it down. “Good. My aim is—good.”

“Can you shoot for Yato while avoiding the others? Our high ground should aid with that.”

Roppi felt this plan was reminiscent of their last big fight (which ended… undesirably), but swallowed and nodded, brandishing his gun to prepare.

“May I also shoot long-range?” asked Shirou seriously.

“How good is your aim?” was Akira’s answer.

“I—I’m an archer,” he said stiffly. He could taste irony on his tongue.

She nodded. “But are you a good archer?”

“Er—yes, ma’am.”

“Then go for it, if you have the weapon,” she said, and he nodded curtly, holding an outstretched hand out to Seidou’s old crossbow quinque, lying discarded on the ground over by the items pillar.

Trace on.” Before she knew it, Akira had a perfect replica of Seidou’s crossbow quinque at the ready in Shirou’s arms. “It’s a pleasure to meet you too. I’m Shirou Emiya. Please treat me well.”

She smiled ever so slightly. That earnest fire did remind her a bit of the person who once owned that quinque he bore now…

“Alright, you two. Light, Shintaro… Stay back. Roppi and Shirou… fire when ready. Do your best not to commit any friendly fire.”

“Got it,” said Shirou, while Roppi merely nodded and gave a soft mm in acknowledgment.

Bullets and crystal shards rained down on Yato, giving him more to dance around as he worked with combos between Saiko and Shirazu, with scattered attacks from Seidou, with precise jabs from Kaneki, with swings from a streetlight that had been ripped from the ground delivered by Konoha. The God of Calamity was shrouded in rage seeing Konoha – all he could think of was the demon that had sacrificed Yukine using one of his poor unwilling underlings. They were coming from every side – he knew he had to backtrack it out of there, and fast.

Ah… that’s right.

Colliding with Kaneki’s kagune, Yato tried to keep him there. He’s much more controlled than he was last I saw. “Kaneki…” His expression darkened, his glowing gaze intense. “…Kuroha isn’t dead.”

Kaneki’s eyes widened. “…Huh?”

The half-ghoul was slammed to the ground by none other than Seidou, pinning him to the ground with his hands on his throat.

“No, that isn’t good,” commented Konoha, going to prevent Seidou from hurting Kaneki too badly.

Akira closed her eyes, standing above them all.

“The fuck is he doing…?” Roppi paused, distracted by Seidou. What the hell… happened to him? Too late, again…?

Now Yato was only up against Shirou and Roppi’s long-range attacks, combined with the team of Saiko and Shirazu. Admittedly, Shirazu was a little thrown off by the fact that Saiko was actually fighting effectively, but even though he didn’t get over it, they fought together rather well.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” Seidou asked Kaneki, his tone deranged. “Isn’t it great? You and I, I get it now, get it? Did you want someone to understand? Didn’t you? Didn’t you?”

“Seidou—snap out of it,” Kaneki choked out, and Konoha yanked at Seidou’s hood, pulling him away from Kaneki.

Like a nervous animal, Seidou snapped at him, tearing at Konoha’s inner forearm. Licking his lips, Seidou peered at him curiously. “…Bland. Like sushi.”

Yato found that it was an easier fight being up against only two of them. Granted, they were strong, but they weren’t overwhelming him so badly, now.

God fucking damn it!” cried Shirazu. Saiko was distracted by the skirmish over with Kaneki, but he snapped Saiko out of it. “What’s your problem, Yato? We were on the same side!”

“I’m not the Yato you knew,” Yato spoke coolly. “See, I’m the God of Calamity.”

“It’s because you lost your fucking scarf, isn’t it?!” Shirazu huffed in exasperation.

Saiko couldn’t help it. She bubbled into nervous laughter. Then it occurred to her: I need to take advantage of the situation here, if we’re going to win. “He just has daddy issues as all, I think.”

“Wha—? Daddy issues?” Shirazu repeated blankly, and Saiko heard Yato’s tongue click in annoyance. He swiped at Saiko, but Shirazu blocked it for her. Honestly, Shirazu was amazed by Saiko’s kagune: so huge! He was proud of his little NEET.

“Yeah, I’m kinda wondering why he has that sword,” she commented, squinting at it. “I think it would look better with loose bandages around it, you know? That kind of weapon would be far more effective.”

The blade seemed to vibrate in discontent. The god only looked more pissed off. Yukine? How does this person…?

“You said he had a scarf? What color was it, magenta? I think he’d look cute in a nice, long, magenta scarf.”

Hiyori…! In a mix of rage and anguish, his fighting intensified, though becoming more impulsive. He was growing blind with emotion.

“I dunno, with that kind of getup, I’d have to say he’s easy to forget. He totally needs a scarf.”

“Saiko, keep going!” Shirazu grinned. He was seeing an opening forming in his increasingly erratic fighting style. Yeah, maybe lightning was staring to crackle around him and he was looking more and more demonic by the minute, but damn it, he was starting to think less, and that’s exactly what they needed, here!

“In this day and age, no one wants to remember the bad stuff. No one would pray to a god who brings disaster. No one would build a shrine for someone like that, you know?!”

Shut up!” Yato yelled, and Shirazu grinned.

The time is now.

With a rising scream that developed into a battle cry, Shirazu jumped to the air and prepared to attack him in one final killing blow that would take him out – Shirazu would take out a god!

But then it was Saiko in front of him, shoving him backwards – much to his confusion – as her kagune boiled and swelled around her in the very killing blow that he had been trying to deal himself, slashing downward just as the god did and all of it happened at once and—

Blood was spraying. The water from the storm earlier only diluted the red. Yato staggered backwards and choked up thick crimson. Saiko collapsed.

“Saiko!” Shirazu cried out, running for her. Yato looked hazily at the quarreling three nearby. At the five on the second story. At the slash over his chest that the girl had dealt. Pressing a hand to his chest and gripping the hilt of Nora with his other, he decided to call a retreat for himself. If he stayed here any longer, he may not make it.

As Yato grudgingly turned to sprint away, Shirazu rolled Saiko over onto her back to reveal a slash over her own chest.  “Saiko; hey… What were you thinking? You know—I’m s’posed to protect you—” He shook his head quickly. “Man, you coulda—you coulda—”

Her bright blue eyes were filled with tears, shining but not spilling. “I… didn’t wanna see you do it again, Shiragin…,” she whispered. “I… I-I didn’t… want to see you—die again…” A single line of the salty liquid trailed down the side of her face, dripping onto the already-wet asphalt.

“Wh-what’re you talkin’ about, Saiko? C’mon… Stay with me, here… Saiko…!” She closed her eyes, clutching onto his jacket with all she had left.

“I’m glad… you’re with me.”

“H-hey! Saiko…!”

Konoha was nervously holding onto Seidou, who had become a deadweight in his android arms. The deranged ex-CCG officer didn’t look at anyone. “Do… we have to hurt him?” asked Konoha softly, his brow furrowed.

“No…” Kaneki closed his eyes. “Let him go.” Blinking, Konoha did so, and Seidou stood unsteadily on the debris-littered ground. “…He just needs a hard hit to the face, right, Seidou?” He smiled gently, and Seidou looked at him emptily, his mouth twitching. “Stop going all ghoul on me,” he said sadly, “…you asshole.” And he went to slap him only to have his wrist caught by Seidou’s hand. They remained there, staring right at one another, not breaking eye contact. Seidou’s eyes were quivering.

“Konoha, go get those on the second floor down here,” said Kaneki calmly, and Konoha nodded before going to do so. “You don’t have to remain there,” he said to his mirror image, and Seidou seemed to flinch. “No matter what’s happened, you’re not beyond redemption… I mean, unless you think I am, after all,” he added at the end with the vague ghost of a smile. “I am going to go see whether Shirazu and Saiko are alright, now.” Kaneki began walking towards them, and eventually Seidou let him go, releasing his arm and bowing his head expressionlessly.

Shirazu didn’t want to leave, but there was nothing they could do for someone who was already dead. He ordered Shintaro to try and help her, tears streaming down his face in rivers, and the hikkiNEET obliged shakily. As suspected, there was nothing to be done. Shirazu insisted that they take her in to lie beside Touka, at least, and that was when he found out that Touka was dead, too. Turning to where Seidou had stood, Kaneki found that he was gone.

After they lay Saiko down in bed, they all took a moment of silence for the two losses. “Her bed was her favorite place to be, after all,” said Shirazu before dissolving into a mess of laughs alternating with sobs. He had his hand over his mouth, unable to contain himself.

“We should leave this place,” said Akira, quiet but serious.

“Agreed.” Kaneki’s voice was just as subdued.

“Wh…what about Seidou?” asked Shintaro tentatively.

“He may follow us if he wants to,” Akira said stiffly. “For now, we must travel.”

Their footsteps heavy with grief, they did.

 

Chapter 50: Smartass

Chapter Text

 

They walked among the wet leaves – ten of them, each having picked and chosen their own conversations to partake in. Now that Groups 3 and 6 were allied, there were lots of interesting dynamics to be had. Akise and Yukiteru were playing catch-up; Yukki was excitedly telling the amazing tales and trials of the past few days with A-ya, and Akise seemed quite content and pleased listening to him. Celty and Minene were playing the same game, as they’d been from the female parallel. Twelve, who was a fellow terrorist, seemed to be getting on just fine with Minene in the meantime. Izaya and Roy were discussing game plans, meanwhile, while Suzuya would occasionally pop into the conversation between Celty, Minene, and Twelve. Rika and A-ya were walking side-by-side closer to the back of the group. They were the silent ones. Rika seemed to quietly gravitate to Minene, while A-ya seemed to be always slightly closer to Yukiteru.

A-ya walked with his ebony cape trailing behind him, his red eyes bearing sharp, slitted pupils. Talk about a dark-clad hero. He listened to the group around him. We lost L, but we got five more members after the fact… Definitely… we’re doing much better than we were at the start of this game. But even with Roy’s immense intellect, L was still the ‘genius’ of the group, right…?

Genius, King, and Hero, isn’t that right?  The voice that had once come out of the mouth of a possessed android.

What’s that about?

Your childhood dreams, was it?

Mm… Maybe.

It’s okay, Loner. I am the Clearing Eyes Snake; do you know what my distinguishing ability is?

I can’t say I have a clue. You’re matching up with all my stereotypes for a demon, honestly.

A-ya felt a writhing within his mind, as though he, too, was uncomfortable with that thought. I am not quite a demon, said the snake.

You’re right. You cease to exist if you don’t have a wish. A real demon would just go to sleep for a century, or return to Hell… Something like that.

A-ya could feel his annoyance. You speak boldly, for a mere human… not to mention a host of mine.

You speak boldly too, to someone who’s now your master.

…The crow’s master was right when he said you spoke well.

Thank you.

But back to the topic of a Genius, well, I do have knowledge from centuries past. I witnessed the birth of the world—I am older than that Calamity God. I also am calculating and strategic. All of this I provide you. …Master.

A-ya couldn’t help it; he started to laugh. Rika tilted her head at him and made a wordless question: “Nii?

“Nothing, really,” A-ya dismissed her. He looked on Yukiteru and Akise. His friend seemed happy. He wanted to be happy with him, but honestly all he could feel was a stale taste in his mouth.

You’ll always be at his side… Don’t worry. The snake had that alluring and soothing tone about him again.

Yeah, but… He envisioned C-ta at his side, stroking his back comfortingly. “Don’t worry, A-ya… I’ll never leave your side. I’ll protect you.” What had come of that? You’re not allowed to lay a hand on Yukiteru.

Now, why would I do that?

I can think of ways you’d twist my wish to get him killed. That’s not what I mean, though, and you know it. If you can make me a ‘genius,’ then you can tell easily what I really mean by my wish… Especially considering you seem to know everything I know just by inhabiting my mind.

Your lungs are the reason your friend always caught you in hide-and-seek, by the way, the serpent confirmed, and A-ya blinked.

At this age, I kind of figured, but I don’t really think about it… I mean, anyway. I know that, because you are a demon, you’re going to try your utmost to twist my dream into something so distorted that it couldn’t possibly be what I wanted. That’s the game you play, isn’t it? Just so that you can have fun with it. Extend your time inside me… or whatever host you happen to inhabit at the time.

Extend time, perhaps, but I always give my Masters exactly what they want.

Heh… Liar. What was the android’s wish, Kuroha? …If I can call you that.

You can call me what you want to, Loner. I see no purpose in names.

…I can tell.

However, if I were to be given a name, I believe ‘Saeru’ would be more accurate. I am not ‘Kuroha’ if I am not inhabiting that vessel.

Saeru… huh. ‘Clearing.’ That did indeed make sense.

But anyway, that ridiculous Awakener vessel was nothing but that: a vessel. It was an empty body inhabited by a brother of mine, ‘Awakening.’ There was no wish to be granted.

Brother? A-ya repeated. Saeru had family? Were there more demons? Or—perhaps it was more complicated than that.

Saeru’s answer was bitter. Correct. My brother had a flimsy sense of self, and inconveniently, he managed to maintain it even after I had claimed the body he lived in. Hah… That airhead and that Gourmet, thinking they could get the best of me…

A-ya was beginning to get uncomfortable; his heart rate was speeding up as his blood ran with hot rage. He knew it wasn’t his own, but it affected him as if it were – he had to pause, putting his hand over his chest, the other over his mouth. He was seeing red; he was buzzing with anticipation for—for—

For what? Was this what it felt like to want to kill somebody? He realized that the hand to his mouth still had the dried blood from the god on it. Suddenly he felt ill. Yeah, he’d stuck his hand inside somebody; he’d felt their insides and he’d felt a smile on his face, an elation that made him feel as though he could fly—then he was thinking of the wet feeling on his hand; the soft, thick feeling of stabbing his scissors into his friend’s neck, and…

You shouldn’t just shut down like that, Saeru seemed to smile. Retreating into your head, floating outside of it… however you depict it, it’s still the same. You’re only on your feet right now because I kept walking for you. Do you want the others to know you have demon living it up inside you? Do you want the Observer to know?

Observer… He figured he meant Yukiteru. He felt strangely homesick. Not for home, no, home was lonely. He wanted C-ta next to him. He wanted Yukiteru at his other side. He wanted all three of them – and B-ko, too, that’s four – to just be together outside of this game and where everything would be okay. Back to… normality…

Do you really think your own realm was ‘ordinary’? You humor me. I can feel it in your veins. I can sense it in your tired soul. You’ve gone through more than you can remember, you know, but I can feel it. I have a way with that. That ‘love’ that you bear for your childhood companion, it’s foolish as always. You think that if you return to that time, it will all be fine – even taking Observer with you. Honestly, you’re just an idiot, tied down with the strings of ‘love’ as mortals inevitably are. You think you and your friend could have been happy together? How deliciously wrong you are! Over and over, you and he have fallen to the same demise, and this game is no different! How many times he has pulled that very box cutter on you and managed to end your life; how many times you have managed to protect yourself only to kill him and then commit suicide! How pathetic; how succulently tragic it is! And you can’t even see that it is an inevitable ending for the two of you. Embrace the future, for you’ve chosen a path without him – a path with me, Loner.

He was shaken by such information – what did it mean? That already, C-ta had tried to kill him in his own realm…? But… It’s a path with Yukiteru, he tried to argue.

That is also true, Saeru conceded, seeming amused.

…If I fall asleep, what will happen?

Ah, you’ve noticed. You have no physical limitations on rest now – if you were to fall asleep now, I would take over. Easy.

And neither of us want you found out, pointed out A-ya.

…Correct.

If I fall asleep, will you be able to convincingly act as me?

It won’t be hard. You’re quite the quiet one. Don’t underestimate my ability to act as the innocent. I’ve played the part before.

Will you call everyone by their names?

By their names? His tone was dry. That’s asking a bit much.

…Not really. Mm, if you really can’t remember their names, just don’t call them anything…

It’s not that I cannot remember, he hissed, it is that’s I don’t care. Where you are concerned for the life of the Observer, for example, I couldn’t care less. All of you are meaningless to me.

I think I’m pretty important, seeing as I granted you existence again.

But was that really so intelligent of you?

Probably not, but I’ve always wondered what it would be like to have a contract with a demon.

…You are, at least, interesting… But remember you are dancing in the palm of my hand, brat.

You’re a snake. You have no hands.

You are annoying.

Here’s the human term for that: I’m being a ‘smartass.’

Well, ‘Smartass,’ I find that term irrelevent and ridiculous. Your attitude is inconvenient and troublesome, and that’s all that needs to be said.

Call me what you want, he mentally shrugged. I think you sound like a mom, now.

A what? A-ya could feel his shocked disbelief.

But anyway… I want you to swear that you won’t hurt Yukiteru. You can’t manipulate another person to hurt him, either. My wish implies that he remains alive, so I want to be absolutely sure that you keep him alive. There is no excuse for this. Do you understand? He paused, then continued before Kuroha could answer. I already get that you’re going to warp this. I already know that you’re probably going to kill people without my permission. But right now… I just ask that Yukiteru isn’t touched in the crossfire or otherwise. I want to take care of him. That’s part of my wish. If you can do that much, I’ll face the other consequences you have planned for me, and then I’ll probably feel like an asshole and wallow in despair like you want me to. I’m saying right now that I don’t want him caught up in that. This is for him… not me.

…It is also for you, as the selfish human you are. After all, you don’t want to lose him, isn’t that right? That’s why your wish is to remain at his side, not to ensure a happy future for him. Fine. I will make sure he continues to trust you. I will make sure that he is alive; I will spare him in that respect.

Don’t cut off his legs, either. That doesn’t count as keeping him at my side.

You have a knack for coming up with terrible scenarios, don’t you?

I’m a pessimist. It’s like second nature.

Fine, fine… You’re perceptive for a human, at least. You at least seem to know what you’re getting yourself into. For once, I will bear an exception for this boy… the Observer.

Swear it. It’s part of my wish. You have to do it. He was firm and unwavering; he didn’t want to slip up before he ended up falling asleep on accident.

I promise to protect the Observer. If one thing is for certain, I cannot break my promises. How’s that, Loner?

…Good. Thank you…

Saeru wasn’t too sure why he was thanked for agreeing to conditions to a contract, but he had nothing to respond to it with, so he remained silent.

While A-ya was having this exchange in his head, Izaya had backed off from Roy and had joined the conversation including Akise and Yukiteru. “So, so! You two know each other, then?” His smile was thin; he was making every effort not to express how infinitely pissed off he was. Yato was just trying to get under Izaya’s skin… Just trying to bother him, that’s all. Impressive, really, that it was sort of working.

“Yes, Yukiteru-kun and I are friends,” Akise smiled, and Yukiteru nodded.

“We’re from the same realm,” said Yukiteru, tugging at his hat nervously. He hadn’t interacted much with this Izaya guy yet.

Izaya’s eyes narrowed. He’d almost been suspicious of Akise being one of the game masters – no group affiliations, and no weapons… Appearing from nowhere, having the air about him that he knew exactly what was going on… Not to mention Akise had Izaya’s updated information sheet, as if he was the one handing out the items. But if he was from the same realm as Yukiteru Amano… there was more doubt for that theory. It could be that the game masters were from some of the realms they had picked and chosen for the game, but somehow Izaya felt like that wasn’t the case. Maybe Akise was working for them, but at this point in time, Izaya was doubting that, too. He would really like to know about him: Aru Akise…

“Well, it’s a pleasure to work with you, Yukiteru-kun~” Izaya grinned, walking backwards so that he could face him.

Yukiteru thought that his eyes kinda creeped him out a little. “…Uh…”

“You and I are going to become great friends, too, aren’t we? Seeing as we’re in an alliance now. I’m very excited~”

Some of the uneasiness left him, and Yukiteru smiled at the informant. “Y…yeah.” He’s a little creepy… but really, he’s friendly.

“Don’t you worry, Yukiteru-kun,” he said as he turned back around and walked alongside the fourteen-year-old, putting an arm around his small shoulders. “You won’t be alone anymore.”

“Uh—”

“Akise-kun will also make sure of that, right?” Izaya grinned over at Akise, and the boy detective’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“…Yes, of course.”

“I mean—” Yukiteru tried again, but Izaya continued.

“Not that you were ever really alone. You have A-ya-kun on your side as well, don’t you? Just you and him – being fourteen, it’s not something to sneeze at, you know, making it this far through the game! I’m impressed! I’m baffled by Rika-chan, honestly. Perhaps it’s because she has Minene-chan to take care of her. Who took care of the two of you? Seeing as both of you seem so helpless on your own.”

Yukiteru shifted uncomfortably under his arm. He didn’t notice Akise’s annoyance at his side. “Um… I mean, we were allied with Group 4. Uh… Sh…Shinichi was really nice… and he was strong and all… but…”

“Shinichi, as in Shinichi Izumi?” Izaya laughed at him. “And that’s all you really have to say about that, isn’t it?”

“I mean… I guess so…”

“Really it was just you and A-ya together, am I right? What happened to the rest of your group, hah?”

“…Er… they… were kinda…”

“That’s alright, because all you needed was A-ya, right?”

“Yeah—I guess that—”

“Don’t get me wrong, but I’ve been listening to you talking to Akise-kun about a girl named Yuno. What kind of relationship was that?”

“You can stop, Izaya-san,” Akise said coolly, his tone level.

Izaya only snickered some more. “Oh, Akise-kun, I’m just getting started… Let Yukiteru-kun answer himself, hmm?”

“Uh…” Yukiteru looked down, shrinking a bit. “Well… with her, I…” He frowned. “She was—I mean, I relied on her without doing anything myself… I was nothing but a loser, but I don’t—have to be. Really, I—I didn’t want anything… to do with her. She was—kinda crazy…”

Kinda crazy?” scoffed Minene, jumping in. “She was an insane psychopath of a bitch!”

Izaya gave a low whistle. “That kind of relationship, huh? You’re a trooper, you know that, Yukiteru-kun? What was it you were talking about with Akise-kun, hah? Breaking out?”

“I…” Yukiteru nodded, mustering up the gumption to talk. “I—yeah, looking at it now— …Seeing something similar, I… was able to better see what was going on, and I… and I’m glad I’m done with that, now.” He finished with a bit more confidence.

“Yukiteru-kun,” Akise smiled, “I’m glad you can come to that conclusion at last…”

“Well, I couldn’t have done it without—”

“Whatever happened to that girl?” asked Izaya, and Yukiteru was immediately silenced.

“She’s dead, Izaya,” Minene explained bluntly, her arms crossed over her chest. “And good riddance to that!”

“She died in their game,” Yukiteru added, very quiet.

“Hm, what’s this…?” Izaya peered at him as though he had no idea even though he had every idea. “Ahh, but you miss her, don’t you?”

Yukiteru couldn’t answer, merely bowing his head silently. Not even he knew why it was he was still…

“Don’t worry, Yukiteru-kun, it’s okay… I understand,” smiled Izaya, looking at him with pleased eyes.

Akise was frowning at Izaya in quite a lot of discontent.

“Y…you do?” asked Yukiteru tentatively, and Minene sighed heavily, rolling her eyes.

“…But in the end…” Izaya’s voice lowered as he leaned down, speaking directly into Yukiteru’s ear: “…Isn’t it true that you’re relying on A-ya-kun, now? Has anything really changed, Yukiteru-kun?” The informant’s smile widened as Yukiteru paled.

“N…no…?”

“Right, right, what’d I miss?” inquired Twelve casually, peering over at Izaya. “Mm? What’re ya doing, Izaya? That bullying, or something?”

“Hah? Quite the contrary!” he cried in return, removing his arm from Yukiteru’s shoulders and spreading his arms nonchalantly. “Bullying is far beneath me, you know.”

“You’re right; you’re right,” conceded Twelve, touching his chin thoughtfully. “That’s straight-up manipulation right there. Nice.”

“Eh? Noo,” Izaya waved him off.

“He’s just not used to having someone picking him apart, as all, Twelve,” A-ya spoke up at last, and Twelve blinked at him in surprise.

His voice… isn’t red anymore?

“Hah?” Izaya looked at A-ya, who smiled an equally thin smile, his eyes narrowing.

“Isn’t that right, though?” he inquired of Izaya, tone low.

He blinked at the dark-clad hero with comical surprise, then burst into laughter. “You got me! You got me! Don’t worry, A-ya-kun, no harm was done. I have no ill will; I’m trying to help Yukiteru-kun, I promise!”

“Don’t worry, I get it,” shrugged A-ya, a strange spark in his eyes. They could almost say they were glowing, but that might have been an effect of becoming the dark-clad hero. “You pick people apart and toy with them so often… but it’s a terrifying thought, thinking that someone can do that to you. Right?”

Izaya finally frowned at him. He sighed, shrugging and closing his eyes. “Jeez, I’m so misunderstood. Can’t you believe that a single action of mine couldn’t have been out of the warmth of my heart? As if you’re any different, A-ya-kun… So bored with life that you’re resorting to trying to get under my skin – me, of all people? Where do your goals lie? Do you have any, or have you succumbed to your endless nihilism?”

A-ya only grinned at him. Loner is sleeping, you lying fool. You might have succeeded in bothering him, if he were actually listening. “Everyone should be allowed their secrets.”

“H…hey…” Yukiteru didn’t know what to do with the situation, lifting his hands slightly with nothing to say.

“Stop squabbling,” sighed Roy.

“Okay, I have a question,” frowned Minene, approaching A-ya. “Was I seeing things? Did you have cat ears? Were my eyes fucking with me?”

“I—saw cat ears,” Yukiteru offered, and Minene tugged at A-ya’s hair, much to Saeru’s immense annoyance.

What.

“Well, whatever, they’re not there now,” said Minene dismissively, and A-ya rubbed at his head in irritation while Twelve and Izaya laughed.

“But his eyes are still like a cat’s, see?” pointed out Yukiteru.

Convenient, thought Saeru. For a feline and a serpent to have such similar eyes, that is… Yeah, this wouldn’t be so hard at all. Maybe just—irksome.

 

Chapter 51: Names and Faces

Chapter Text

 

Seidou Takizawa could hear his own footsteps echoing and echoing and echoing as he step, step, stepped down into the cement and into the dark and into the basement. He looked back up the stairs as though to check to see if someone was following him. No one was. The door was closed behind him. He didn’t remember closing it, but figured he had. He wondered if maybe he had locked it, too.

After staring up the empty stairwell for some time, he turned back around and walked slowly over to the non-working washing system for clothing and sheets. Imagine, he thought, the things hospitals might have to clean up.

Shirazu said: “You think it works?”

“Everything breaks down eventually,” Seidou answered.

Shirazu said: “I… don’t like hospitals.”

Seidou kept walking.

That’s right, I was in here, yesterday? It was only yesterday. One day ago. Yesterday. I came here yesterday. It felt like more than that. Even just this morning felt like a lifetime ago.

He smacked his lips. “…Starved,” he said, and opened the door to the morgue without hesitation. Smelled good. Smelled so good.

In the beginning, Seidou had refused to eat whatever was offered him. He starved himself in that prison because he was a CCG officer, not a ghoul, and he would never, not ever… But the hunger drove him mad—the blackouts began, and the hallucinations, the desperation. It was unbearable, and before he could stop himself, he would eat the meat offered him through the slot in the door, regain a sense of himself, and force himself to vomit it back out. Binge and purge. Binge and purge. He was skin and bone, in a cycle of gratification and guilt. Indulgence and shame. How could any human enjoy the flavor? How could any human do that at all? No matter how terrible he felt, he still did it again, and again, and again. Guilt meant nothing when the cycle continued, and the dissonance eventually fractured his sense of self. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he was a ghoul after all. What else would make sense? What else could possibly make sense?

Seidou swept through two bodies before he even regained consciousness of his actions. “Good,” he mumbled, scooping the purple eyes of a young girl out and popping them into his mouth almost absently. “Gumdrops,” he commented. “Or, grapes. Fruit—my favorite. Still, not pineapple.” He licked the red from his mouth and stood up on the table he was picking at. “Clean your plate, Seidou dear.” He hopped leisurely to the next table, empty. “Mind your manners at the table. Mind your manners, yes, in Hell.” He tittered darkly and pounced to the next table, grabbing at the corpse’s shoulders. Leaning in and salivating in anticipation – this one smelled extra good! Extra sweet! – he halted. “…Scarf,” he said, staring at the scarf around the girl’s neck. Scarf—it down. Scarf it down.

Ah, what color is that? Red? A red scarf? That meant something. Glancing to the side, he saw that the next girl looked the same – darker outfit, same scarf? Different scarf? One of them, was? “But which one?” he asked no one in vague distress, quickly scrabbling off the table and back onto the floor. Look at the nameplates, why don’t you? He scolded himself. It’s not like you’ve forgotten how to read.

He searched. He was looking for the nameplates more and more frantically as he discovered one wasn’t at the feet of the girl he’d just questioned – where had it gone?

Who is it I’m wondering about? Was it? Was it? A wonder; it sure is. He thought of a red-jerseyed teen hunched forward on the edge of his bed, telling him the tale of the only problem he couldn’t solve. He began to laugh breathily, uncontrollably. “Someone so important, huh? Someone really so important, huh? Are they, really?” He sank backwards, bringing his hands to his face. “…M…muh… Ma…” He was consumed with a rising emotion that sent him forward like a tidal wave. “What do bodies matter? We all die, we all go to Hell, right? Right? Moommm, oh, Mommy, I can’t help, couldn’t help… Ah!” He lunged at someone, skipping over the scarved ones. “Become what you fear,” he uttered breathily, “and fear will fade. Become what you fear…” He laughed as he dug into a green-haired girl with a purple jacket. So many clothing layers. Less appetizing. Like a nut that was too hard to crack. A candy whose wrapper was insistent on being very stubborn. He tore into her, jumped to the next, sapping them of their stagnant blood; emptying them of their insides; devouring their skin, muscles, faces, memories – what were your names?

He was presented with an all-you-can-eat buffet, and there was an array of flavors for him to taste-test on the way. The only one that didn’t appeal was the parasite – but as for the others, humans always tasted amazing, and then—cinnamon spice, and this is sour candy! Ah, a lemon citrus flavor, a bit tart but—it’s like Shigekix Super Cola candy!

His carnivorous rampage only snowballed, going faster and faster as he went along; tearing heads and spattering red and lapping at the scrumptious meat sacks that were once people. Names and faces, was it? he thought, and laughed derangedly. It all seemed so inconsequential to him now. What did these bodies matter? Why should he care?

But he noticed that, for some reason, their faces were blurred out.

He came upon Eto with a flourish for the audience of himself, grin stretched across his features and a manic glint in eyes. Oh, he knew that face now, the face of the girl who had made the order to collect officers like Seidou Takizawa for experimentation, the girl that seemed to smile even as he was tortured and tortured, and…

You fucking bitch!” he shouted with glee, and shoved his fist into her stomach, ripping out her intestines and reaching in again, taking out more, emptying her out, emptying her out and filling himself, filling himself with the glorious, glorious taste of a half-ghoul, a natural half-ghoul; the fantastic flavor of vengeance, of karma, of—of—

“I’m not your dog anymore…,” he said lowly, eyes wide as he tore her apart and injested every piece of her that he could until there was nothing left at all…

Curling comfortably on the floor, he licked at his fingers in the ghastly mess he’d made, leaving bits and pieces of everyone, the not-tasty ones carelessly cast to the side. The morgue looked more like a massacre than a tomb, now. Kaneki is better when he eats, he thought. I was hungry. I am, still hungry. Why aren’t I satisfied, then? I don’t remember, what I just ate, even. His ability to ‘stop’ had long since broken down. He had no sense of control and his psyche had eroded to the point where he didn’t care about it.

Gnawing on the humerus of a woman who had been in military attire (he had mocked that outfit; he scorned it – oh, how it filled him with disdain; with disgust…), Seidou Takizawa settled down, for now. He was free from his boss, from his tormentor, from his master. From his leash, so to speak. He had free reign now. What would he do?

He decided he’d think about it later.


The clouds began to break only once the sun had fallen low in the sky. Groups 1 and 2 had made it out of the city, going straight west only to find the battered area where the dark-clad hero had faced off with the God of Calamity.

“…What a mess,” commented Light, hand to his chin.

“Probably a different fight,” Kaneki said to him, tone hollow. He looked so tired, almost as though he’d aged. Ah, but they all had.

“I wonder what happened…,” commented Shirou, tone solemn.

“There may have been casualties,” Akira said gravely, and continued forward.

“Wonder who coulda been involved…,” remarked Shirazu, tone subdued. He was rubbing at the back of his head.

“I smell Yato’s blood,” Kaneki offered, and Shirazu shook his head.

“Man, what’s he doing…? I thought we had some kinda alliance…”

“W…we saw him when I had just found Roppi, too,” said Shintaro. “He didn’t attack us at that time, but he killed the Gourmet and then… might’ve wiped out the rest of that group.”

Kaneki could not process that this meant Tsukiyama was also dead.

“…I don’t think he would have,” denied Roppi. “Seemed more like he was giving them a scare. I’m going to guess they’re fine. As for Yato, I’d have to guess that he got all screwed up by losing that blond kid in the last battle. Izaya probably fucked with his head enough for him to go off the deep end; I wouldn’t be surprised. He was stuck in his group.”

Kaneki nodded. “Maybe…”

“Who was the Gourmet with, though?” asked Shirazu, bemused. “I can’t imagine that snake bastard would’ve ran…” He looked at Konoha. “But—oh. Wait.”

“I was probably dead at that time,” Konoha explained, as if that were perfectly normal.

“Uh…right.” Shirazu blinked. “Then who offed the demon?”

“The Gourmet, apparently,” mumbled Roppi.

“Wait… the Gourmet, Tsukiyama… He…?” Kaneki was beginning to get it.

“He died,” Roppi shrugged, and Kaneki appeared to shiver before continuing. Suddenly Roppi recalled that they’d known one another, and felt a sick pit in his chest. Oh, shit…

“…Oh, I see…”

“He… was trying to find you,” said Shintaro tentatively. “He wanted to…protect you.”

“Why?”

Shintaro was struck by the sincerity of the question. The brokenness. How many people would they all have to lose…? “Because… I think… I mean…” Shintaro was at a loss for words.

“He wanted to because he gave a shit, okay?” Roppi said, shoulders tense. “He—probably wanted to apologize. He probably realized that you were his friend—or something sappy like that—or—I mean, not saying that was definitely, absolutely the case… but…” The bitter one turned his gaze to the ground. He wasn’t very good at this.

“…I see,” Kaneki said quietly. “Thank you, Roppi.”

Thank me? Why? He closed his eyes.

“But if it wasn’t Kuroha… then who…?” Shirazu looked to the sky and sighed.

“New recruits, most likely,” said Light.

“Unless he had made an alliance with another group,” Shirou pointed out.

Shintaro shook his head. “I didn’t recognize any of them…”

“…Ah…”

“Shin here has a photographic memory,” Shirazu explained to Shirou. “So there’s no way he’d forget… Pretty cool, huh?”

Shirou nodded. “Yeah…”

Shintaro was averting his gaze, still uncomfortable with it.

“Speaking of which…” said Kaneki, “I need to talk to you… about something…”

“What’s that?” asked Shintaro, and the white-haired half-ghoul just stared right through him.

“…I… don’t know…” He brought a hand to his forehead. “I—sorry, I’ll… think of it… later…”

Shirazu empathetically put a hand on his back. “So, who was in that group? What’d they look like, Shin?”

“Uh…” Shintaro’s eyes grew distant. “Well… there were three of them. None of them said names by the time I’d gotten there, but there were two guys and a girl. The first was a guy in his… twenties, mid-to-late. He had this really spikey hair… long jacket… no shirt under it. An eye patch; black. A tattoo above his right eye – that was where the eye patch was, too. He was in favor of killing me. Person two: girl, teenager. Younger than me, I think. Short skirt. Nice legs…” He paused, then snapped back. “I-I mean, she—long black hair, twin tails going on with black ribbons… Long-sleeved red shirt with a cross on it. Really blue eyes. Kinda annoyed-looking.”

Shirou looked suddenly intensely interested, albeit almost scared. Tohsaka-chan? Can’t be…

“Last one, a kid my age… maybe older…? Black pants… a white polo with a red collar. He had blond hair, but I could tell it was dyed because the roots were still brown.”

Kaneki seemed to stir from the depths of his own head.

“Hm…,” Light contemplated wordlessly, hand to his chin. Well, L isn’t in that group…

“I… can tell you their… fighting styles,” Roppi said, voice taut. “…If you want.”

“Please do,” said Shirou instantly.

“…The first one, with the eye patch… He had blades that he made out of his blood… A little bit like the Gourmet, but it actually came out of his arms… Then the girl… the Gourmet called her… something… – she shoots static red-and-black balls of something that really fucking hurts.”

“Curses?” asked Shirou urgently.

“Uh… maybe,” Roppi shrugged tensely. “How should I know?”

“Was she called Tohsaka? Maybe Rin?”

“Rin, yeah, that was it…”

“Tohsaka-chan is in this game?” Shirou looked horrified.

“Know her?” asked Shirazu.

“Yeah, she—oh, I’ve gotta find her…” He brought his hands to his face.

“We’ll do it,” Shirazu said matter-of-factly.

“Yes,” agreed Konoha. “We will find her. She is important now.”

Shintaro smiled lopsidedly, if only slightly.

Roppi closed his eyes. “The last one just has a stone knife as all… Really just a human, but he has good reflexes, at least… He thinks fast.”

“…Hide,” Kaneki breathed. “Maybe it’s Hide.” As though he were a wind-up toy whose key had just been twisted, he seemed to regain some life. “I need to make sure he’s—” He halted. …I don’t want him to see me this way… He doesn’t even know I’m a half-ghoul – I haven’t seen him since… since…

“We will find him too,” Konoha nodded. “Important people.”

“Speaking of important people,” said Shintaro, rubbing at his arm uncomfortably, “what about… you know… Seidou?”

“I don’t know,” Kaneki said faintly.

“S… sorry… it’s just…”

Roppi held his machine gun closer. “…And besides, he was… our leader. Group 2’s leader. Who will lead our group now…?”

Shintaro looked at him with renewed concern, and Roppi only continued to look at the ground. With even more tension, Shintaro looked at Konoha. “I… don’t think that Konoha… could—and I, definitely… no… And Roppi—”

“—No,” Roppi answered for him.

Shintaro swallowed.

“I mean, we’re all in this together either way,” Shirazu pointed out. “So… don’t worry too much about it… ‘Cause… Kane-kun…” He looked at the white-haired half-ghoul, who seemed to be floating somewhere out of reach. The orange-haired officer frowned worriedly.

Akira returned to the group at this point. “Don’t worry. I can take responsibility for Group 2,” she said. Shintaro looked at her thankfully while Roppi stifled the urge to argue with her. “I can be the temporary leader…” She glanced at Kaneki, and continued, “…And I understand that Kaneki is under a lot of stress right now; he has a lot of things that he needs to work through in his head. Under that understanding, I can also maintain responsibility for Group 1 where Kaneki does not have the capacity to do so. It will only be temporary, I understand. Kaneki, is that alright with you?”

He looked at her with authoritative, if deadened, eyes. “That shouldn’t be a problem, Akira-san. Should I fail to meet my expectations as a leader, you can take over. I, understand that this is a possible… a likely scenario.”

Akira nodded. “Thank you.” She turned to address everyone. “I’ve just scouted the area. No one seems to be around, but they might be taking refuge in one of the houses ahead. There’s only one casualty I’ve been able to find as of now. We may want to see if we can identify in case they are someone you know. I don’t recognize them, myself.”

“Ah, this game is terrible…,” mumbled Shirazu as they went along to follow Akira to the body.

“Do you expect anything less from war?” she asked, and he had nothing to say to it.

They made their way forward, playing an apprehensive and silent game of follow-the-leader as Akira brought them through the rubble and to the edge of the forest, where there lay a man on his back in very plain attire. Though his chest was spoiled with the darkened and dried blood, there were some purple wildflowers placed there as though in memorial.

Light Yagami stood stock-still. Thoughts raced; visions flashed before his eyes. That’s L, was his first thought. His rival, sure – his arch-nemesis! The one that played this life’s game of chess with him; his ultimate opponent and also his greatest threat!

His first reaction: An obstacle, gone just like that! Now nothing will stand in my way…! His insides were squirming with delight; he could feel his mouth curling in satisfaction.

His second: If I play this out right, my group will still trust me just fine… Ah, do I have to act so upset? Should I tell the truth? Should I lie? Ah, but could they understand it – my dream? Couldn’t they also reject it, thinking that they shouldn’t allow me to make it through this game? No… I’ll have to see their views on such a topic before I bring anything like that up – to them, L is a fellow investigator; a friend… I should act as such. Nothing too loud. Nothing too, too showy. Remember, everyone else has lost at least one person… except for Shirou, that is.

“…R…Ryuuzaki?” L’s alias in the investigation they were currently performing in: the Kira Case, in which Light was the true culprit all along. Kira, the god who had been wiping the world clean of its nastiest criminals through the judgment of His notebook… Kira, He who had committed mass genocide of criminals all over the world… and… “Im…impossible,” Light murmured. A touch of disbelief; cue common rejection of the delightful horror that faced him.

“Ah… the petals of a violet hydrangea…,” commented Kaneki plaintively.

“…Symbolic of heartfelt emotions,” Light said distractedly, and the half-ghoul gazed at him.

“The language of flowers… You…?”

Light had been the only one to approach, now. The others stood back respectfully. “Ryuuzaki; hey, Ryuuzaki, get up…! You—you can’t die here!” He was taking him by the shoulders, shaking him with just the right amount of desperation. “I need you—our world needs you…!” Curling forward, hunching with his shoulders around his neck, his position one of total grief… yes, in this position where no one could see his face, Light was grinning. Mockery. Scorn. You thought you could beat me, L…

An afterthought: I should be extremely relieved. I should be ecstatic. Overjoyed. My obstacle is gone. He was nothing but an impediment… It shouldn’t matter whether it was I who had gotten rid of him… But somehow, this feels like a very… stale victory.

Curious.

“I’ll keep going, Ryuuzaki… No, L… I’ll make it back. I’ll make sure the world is saved…”

“The world’s… most powerful detective… right?” said Shintaro tentatively, placing the memory with the new face, albeit the face of a cadaver.

Not anymore, thought Light, who rose to his feet slowly, his head bowed. “That’s right… You see, the case he was on in our present day was probably his most important one yet… He was facing who was arguably his greatest opponent of all time… someone who had killed hundreds of thousands of people – the catch was that this killer was only killing the most heinous of criminals. It’s an interesting thought… because I can’t help but think that both of them were fighting for justice.”

“Hundreds of thousands?” Shirazu repeated in awe, perhaps horror.

“That’s genocide,” Shirou said lowly, his eyes shadowed.

“How did he manage it?” Akira asked coolly. “Surely no human could do it on their own.”

“That’s just it,” Light shrugged, adding a bit of a broken laugh to his words. He turned to face all of them again, wiping away the tears he’d sprouted with much care. “They just dropped dead… heart attacks; all of them. All this guy needed was a name and a face. Most people assumed it was the judgment of some kind of god… but L figured out that there was a culprit… A mortal, who he could catch and arrest for his crimes. It’s a crazy thought… isn’t it?”

“It’s not outside the realm of possibility,” remarked Shirou. “Seeing as we’re all from different realms… with different things that we perceive as ‘fantasy’ or ‘reality’… You mentioned it, too, didn’t you, Light?”

Light nodded. “That’s true… Maybe that culprit just wasn’t of my world…”

“That’s like me saying that Kuroha and Konoha both shouldn’t be of mine,” said Shintaro weakly. “Which still doesn’t make sense, but I’m coming to find that there’s a lot that doesn’t make sense from my world… so… whatever…”

“I am sorry,” apologized Konoha. “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think much of anything makes sense at all.”

Shintaro slumped. “Thanks, Konoha…”

Roppi blinked at Konoha, his sleeve to his mouth. He gave Light a sidelong glance before looking away with fiery eyes once more. Something about that guy… Light… He really bothers me… He shifted the machine gun in his arm, thinking of the Harrowing Blade in his pocket and wondering just what would happen if he sliced Light with it.

“But an enemy like that… L was probably the only person who could beat him,” Light said sorrowfully. “I don’t know that I can live up to that… And… I don’t know, what do you make of such a person? Killing criminals like that, as if he had some sort of twisted power of divine judgment?”

“He’s become a criminal, himself,” Shirou said bluntly. “Killing people is evil, no matter how you look at it… It’s not right.” He looked intensely at the ground. “That kind of thing… it doesn’t make peace. It doesn’t fix the world.”

“The world…,” Kaneki echoed. He shook his head. “This world… my world… our worlds… They’re wrong.”

“Rotten?” suggested Light, tilting his head ever so slightly.

“…Exactly…” Kaneki was beginning to curl into himself again, like a flower closing its petals at the coming of night. “It’s like… when you make coffee.” He was holding his arms with the opposite hands. His eyes were wide but unseeing. “When you examine the beans, there is the occasional rotten one that needs to be… disposed of…”

“Kane-kun, you’re not saying that guy’s right, are you?” asked Shirazu worriedly.

The half-ghoul closed his eyes. “Not necessarily.” He straightened, lowering his arms. “Finding what’s wrong—it’s easy. Finding what’s right… that’s the hard part. Isn’t that the truth?”

Shirazu gazed at him, thinking on this. “Hm…”

“I don’t wish to say that the culprit is wrong, himself,” said Akira simply. “It’s the power he’s been given that is the true problem. That culprit, I’ll say, is being gravely misled, and could very well lead to his demise. That’s what I think.”

“Mm…” It’s just like Father said, Light thought to himself, gazing at Akira. “…Maybe so.”

“Where to from here, now?” asked Roppi flatly.

Akira nodded to the residential area. “North, for now. We’ll see how far we can go before the game area ends. We may end up taking refuge in one of these houses for the night.”

“That sounds… good,” said Kaneki.

The plan was executed.


He was an echo. Seidou stared out onto the city with pallid eyes; his pupils were abysses of ebony. Empty. He sat on the rooftop of the hospital, on the other side of the protective railing with his feet dangling over the edge. His toenails, exposed because of the sandals he wore, were as black as his fingernails. The clouds were clearing, and the sun was setting. Even though he was aware of the fact he was ‘free,’ he felt like something was still clutching at him and holding him down. He couldn’t conjecture what it could be. He thought maybe it was the invisible dome that encaged them all. Suddenly the thought occurred to him that he wanted the heads of the game masters, whoever those fuckers were…

How did I end up here… It was all because of one stupid action: disobeying Akira’s orders so long ago just to try and save his hero… just to try and save his hero—play the hero, why don’t you, Seidou, and see where it gets you?

Something hot and bitter nestled itself in his gut.

Yeah, that was right, try and save his hero, for the greater good, it was the good choice, the choice that led him to years of torture and starvation! What a hearty, happy ride!

His blackened lips parted slightly. What was that she had talked about…? Shintaro Kisaragi’s goodbye note was in his hands, and Akira Mado was preaching to him about living without regret, wasn’t she?

She was talking about me.

Somehow, she’d seemed more sorrowful than angry. What, she said that was still the right choice to make, right? What, she okay with this? She think that Seidou is still the one she graduated with, think that all of that meant something? She think that—that she wanted me around after all? Think that she can just go and miss me?

“…Bullshit.”

The faces he saw bursting through the door when he first jumped through time – the faces on Akira, on Shintaro, on Kaneki—on Roppi – what had they looked like, he wondered? What expressions did they wear? His thoughts were blurred. His visions were skewed. Seidou Takizawa, human! Seidou Takizawa, ghoul investigator! Seidou Takizawa, leader of Group 2!

Seidou Takizawa

Died, though. Because I killed him.

Something was wrong.

Everything that happened on this playing field…

He couldn’t pinpoint it, though – it was just beyond the realm of his perception.

…None of that was me. Yeah, that’s why he couldn’t remember it, save for in messy patches. That’s why…?

…Why none of it changed the future anyway.

“Seidou Takizawa… he talked to Shintaro about heroes, learned that heroes can only… die, leaving behind people like Shintaro, leaving behind people like Roppi. Like, Mado? Heeheehee. No, that’s wrong. Seidou Takizawa, learned about ghouls from Ken Kaneki, right? Seidou Takizawa was a leader… and… so…?

“…Nothing changed. All for nothing.” His parted lips became a scowl. “No, that’s right—Shintaro left, anyway. Shintaro talked about the only problem he couldn’t solve, that bastard, never caring, never gave a shit. Just the same. The difference is the fates like people like Shintaro, he is… a success. That’s right. And Kaneki is like me; just like me. Just like me. Kaneki killed Kaneki awhile ago too, right? Right? He’s just pretending. Just pretending, like he’s in a play. A play! That’s right.

“Nothing could change. I needed to die, right? Shintaro left, but he made it back, safe and sound.” A resentment began to build. “And Roppi didn’t listen to me at that time in the first place, that piece of shit…”

He lowered his head. The breeze atop the hospital was pleasant. A part of him wished he could blow away. Another part thought he could. Another thought he already had.

Ah, they left me behind again.

“…I don’t want to talk about her,” he mumbled, and slipped from the rooftop, his kagune opening like a fan about halfway down, slowing his fall and allowing him to land with grace. “No regrets, right? Because… because, if I were to do all that I have done, if I were to feel good when I do it, that means I like it; it means that I want to do it. Right? Exactly.” He moved like a wraith through the aftermath of the the battle they’d just had. The scent of death had been watered down by the rain that still coated the streets. Taking in a deep breath of air, he put away his kagune and closed his eyes. That god was the best thing I’ve ever tasted… “Tasty,” he said mildly, and began following the oh-so-heavenly scent of the God of Calamity.


Groups 3 and 6 settled in the park area come twilight, amongst the trees and the open land and some large rocks. “This seems a good enough place as any,” Izaya had smiled, spreading his arms.

Roy had grunted in agreement.

The sky was becoming of that darker shade, with pale light shining from behind the clouds to the west. “Twelve,” said Suzuya, “what color do you say these new members are?” A thoughtful question. He and the friendly terrorist were sitting on one of the larger rocks together, with Minene and Rika at their backs, on the other side of the stone. They were all nibbling at dinner, scavenged from the shopping district nearby.

“Mm?” Twelve looked at Suzuya, his mouth stuffed with onigiri. Suzuya himself was chowing down on a sprinkled pastry from one of those clear plastic packages. Twelve swallowed his mouthful before answering. “It’s kinda cool. A little more variety from that red duo that came at us last, I should say.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…” Twelve looked out to the mingling groups in the clear area before them: it seemed that Izaya, Roy, Akise, and Celty were having a discussion about sleeping arrangements and night watch cycles. A-ya and Yukiteru were sitting side-by-side on another rock nearby, sharing their dinner while Yukiteru mused aloud when he thought Akise would be eating. “Not that red’s boring or anything. I mean, you’re red, and you’re pretty awesome, Suzuya.”

“Yeah?” The CCG officer was absently grabbing another pastry from the pile he’d collected.

“Yeah,” Twelve smiled. “Well, anyway… Minene and Rika are both purple, see.”

“Purple?”

Twelve nodded. “Minene’s like… a darker shade, almost like her hair. Rika’s closer to violet—like, blue-purple. You know? Yukiteru’s a reddish-orange, and then Roy’s red, so we’ve still got a red one… Doesn’t surprise me, though, since red and blue are probably the most common colors there are; yeah.” He took another huge bite of onigiri.

Suzuya nodded. “What about him?” The albino pointed to A-ya, and Twelve stopped chewing.

After swallowing his mouthful again, Twelve answered, “He’s… red? Ish?”

“Ish?”

“Ish.”

“Huh.”

“He’s an interesting one, that’s for sure,” Twelve smiled, looking over at A-ya as he continued eating his rice ball. I wonder why it is his can change… Cool.

“What’s that about?” asked Minene gruffly, her mouth full of bread.

“Heh?” Twelve tilted his head backwards to look back at Minene and Rika while Suzuya turned to look behind him with wide, blank eyes. “Oh, don’t mind us~”

“He can hear colors,” Suzuya explained.

“Ah,” said Rika, smiling a closed-eye smile. “I am blue-violet, then? Thank you, Twelve; I like that color quite a lot; that is so.”

“I can tell,” Twelve grinned. “But it’s not really my choice; I just kinda see it when I hear your voice.”

“And mine too, huh?” said Minene, tearing at the bread with her teeth. “Huh,” she commented around the loaf.

“Oh, yeah, Minene, I meant to ask you!” said Twelve. “I’ve noticed you have two grenades at your belt – that’s your weapon, huh?”

“Yeah.” Her mouth was still full. She swallowed. “Your point?”

“Me too; why do ya think you got ‘em?”

“I’m a terrorist,” she said dully.

“Me too! Wow, we sure have a lot in common.”

“Wait, seriously?” She squinted at him. I mean, he has grenades too, but… This guy’s too… cheery, I guess?

“Yeah. Don’t you worry, Twelve is just your friendly neighborhood terrorist!”

“I’m a terrorist, but I’m not friendly,” she growled back, but Twelve only laughed.

“Minene is actually very nice when you get to know her,” Rika said happily.

Blinking, Minene was immediately disarmed by her tiny voice. “…Quiet, kid,” she uttered, and Rika giggled happily.

Suzuya blinked, watching them. There was a disconnect.

Yukiteru and A-ya were watching everyone else from their rock, in the meantime. “It seems Minene and Rika-chan are getting along well with some of Group 6,” observed Yukiteru, thoughtful. “I’m glad everyone’s becoming friends…”

“Mm.” A-ya nodded, sipping at a can of warm soda. He didn’t really mind the temperature.

“Akise-kun and Roy-san are getting along, too, I think,” the other smiled. “I’m really glad… And out of all of the friends I’ve remembered, I’m glad it’s Akise-kun that’s here. I know that he… can do well in this game.”

A-ya looked at him in a silent question, and Yukiteru shrugged.

“Akise-kun wants to be the world’s greatest detective when he grows up, see… and he already does a pretty good job. He’s friends with the police, and he’s really very smart… He’s amazing.”

A-ya blinked.

“Oh, speaking of which, you did awesome back there, A-ya… I was really worried when you were smashed into a crater – it was like when Sebastian was thrown down by that creepy snake guy” – A-ya flinched, if slightly – “…and you didn’t get up for a bit… I, I didn’t know whether you were okay—but then you came back with the black cape, all cool, and—and—you were so cool, A-ya!”

A-ya stared at him without expression.

“I mean…” Yukiteru tugged at his hat nervously. “You were honestly pretty amazing the whole way through… But I still don’t know why you had to hit me…”

The dark-clad hero’s mouth spread into a small smile. “Ah. It was nothing.”

“Nothing? It hurt…!”

“Sorry.”

“N-no, it’s fine, but… Jeez…” Yukiteru scratched at the back of his head, and A-ya’s expression began to soften again.

“It was for fun,” he said.

“For fun?” the other repeated, pouting a bit.

“Yeah…” Looking up to the sky, A-ya smiled again. “Like… when I… was little, I… Ah.”

“What is it, A-ya?” Yukki asked, looking over at him curiously.

“A game I used to play, back in primary school…” A-ya closed his eyes. “C-ta and I… we used to—”

“Mind if I join you two?” It was Izaya, a grin on his face with a small bag containing half-melted ice and some sushi in a container.

A-ya stared blankly, while Yukiteru shifted. “Um, sure…”

“Why, thank you!” He sat on A-ya’s other side, pulling open his bag with glee. “Sushi is the best,” he explained.

“I…guess so.” Yukiteru blinked, perplexed. “…Ah, Akise-kun…!”

“I don’t suppose you’d mind me joining as well,” said the silver-haired boy, eyeing Izaya momentarily before looking at Yukiteru and A-ya with warmth.

“Not at all…”

“Sorry for the interruption, Yukiteru-kun, A-ya-kun,” said Akise, sitting at Yukiteru’s other side in turn.

“Right—” Yukiteru looked at A-ya. “What was it you were trying to tell me?”

A-ya stared right through him. “…Ah.” He shook his head. “Later.” He was already uncomfortable with Izaya at his left, and in the end, he only really wanted to share these things with Yukiteru.

Yukki’s eyes clouded for a moment before he nodded, taking A-ya’s hand and squeezing. ‘Tonight,’ it said. With that, Akise started a friendly conversation with both him and A-ya. A-ya didn’t have much to say. Izaya did, but A-ya could tell that the man in the fur jacket was really just feeling out the waters of what the three others on the rock were about. Piecing together dynamics. A-ya only knew because it was something he’d done countless times, himself. He looked into the informant’s red-brown eyes, cold and cruel, and recognized the eyes of a puppeteer. He was a showman, just like A-ya… wasn’t that right? He could see the sleep deprivation hiding underneath those eyes. He could see the spark of distrust in the depths of his irises. Yeah, people were a game to Izaya, just like they were a game to A-ya.

Izaya knew the kid was staring at him, and finally looked back, grinning a closed-eye smile. A guard? A warning? ‘I know you’re looking at me, so don’t try anything’? How could A-ya piece him together?

He’s a troublesome one, Loner. Don’t let him use you. The serpent’s tone was one of annoyance. Distaste.

Yeah, I already know.

Realizing he wasn’t going to get anything else from just staring at Izaya, A-ya looked away and to the center of their little resting place, where Roy and Celty still seemed to be having a conversation. Apparently the biker was mute, which A-ya found to be curious. He watched as Roy waved her off and seemed to explain something to her while she put her hands on her hips. “No, not yet. There’s just a few things I want to cover first,” he was saying, and A-ya tried to piece together the half-conversation he heard. Soon, Rika came over holding up some bread that Roy grudgingly took, only for Rika to then tug on his military uniform and bring him over to the rock the others were on. Celty looked approving of the gesture.

I wonder if Celty will eat, A-ya thought absently, and continued to nibble at his dinner, even though he hadn’t been very hungry in the first place. He was admittedly curious as to what was under that helmet.

Closing his eyes again, he heard Yukiteru: “You know, I think this a comfortable little group we’ve got.”

“It’s quite a large one, if they were meant to be groups of four.” Akise’s voice.

“Well, I like it. Everyone here… is very nice.”

Izaya’s laugh. “I’m flattered, Yukki-kun. Ah, can I call you that? Yukki?”

“I… guess so.”

“Then I’m glad you enjoy our company, Yukki.”

“I just hope it stays this way.”

A-ya opened his eyes. He heard a serpent’s laugh resounding in his brain. He sipped at his soda only to find it was empty. He set the can back on the rock gently. I… hope so too, Yukiteru.

 

Chapter 52: Unravel

Chapter Text

 

An iron gate stood to block the way of Groups 1 and 2. “Never seen this before,” said Shirazu.

“What… is it?” asked Shintaro tentatively.

“A graveyard?” said Shirou.

“A graveyard,” Roppi echoed in some form of distant confirmation.

“…Do we need to check it out?” asked Shirazu, his brow furrowed. Anyone could tell he really didn’t want to.

“Perhaps not today,” said Akira.

“Knowing these game masters, there might be something special about this place,” said Light, crossing his arms over his chest. “It could also be a trap… a consequence for entry, as all other things seem to have here. I’d say if we enter, it should be in the daytime… and right now, the sun is setting.”

“Then we’ll wait,” said Kaneki, closing his eyes.

“We’ll set up camp here,” said Akira, looking around. “We either take one of the houses just nearby, or we camp out…”

“…I’d prefer a house to a spot in the open… next to a graveyard…,” said Shintaro, rubbing at his arm. “…To be honest.”

Akira nodded. “We should scout the neighboring houses to ensure there’s no one sticking around nearby. We’ll split into three groups…” She looked around at everyone with inspecting eyes. “Shirazu and Shirou will be with me. Kaneki, Light, and Roppi will be together,” she continued, and Roppi winced. “…Which leaves Shintaro and Konoha in a group together. Does that sound alright?”

Kaneki gave a sound of confirmation. “Roppi, Light… we’ll search to the west. And you, Akira-san?”

“I will go to the east. Shintaro and Konoha will check south. We need only to inspect the surrounding area, and we will meet back here before the sun is down.” She looked at everyone meaningfully. “Understood?” Sounds of comprehension and agreement returned to her, and she gave a curt nod. “Shirazu. Shirou. Shall we?”

“Let’s go,” Shirou said, a note of determination in his voice while Shirazu gave a, “Let’s do it,” at the same time.

As they left, Shintaro sighed. “Have fun, guys.” He gave Roppi a momentary look before turning to Konoha. “Let’s try to make this kinda quick, okay, Konoha?”

“Okay,” said Konoha agreeably, and scooped Shintaro up before walking quickly off with him.

“Not what I mean! Not what I mean!”

At Shintaro’s protests, Kaneki smiled, if slightly. “Let’s go, you two,” he said, and quietly began leading them to the west, heading into the first house with caution. “We have to be careful. I will go first into every house.”

“Alright, Kaneki-kun,” said Light with a smile, while Roppi grunted. He didn’t mind Kaneki so much, really, but Light really rubbed him the wrong way. “If we’re effective about this, we can speed up the process and perhaps make it back to the graveyard gates before anyone else.”

“Maybe,” Kaneki agreed. “Ah…” He closed the door to a walk-in closet, shaking his head. “Here’s… the plan…”

“You will head in first, as you said,” said Light. “We’ll all split up and scout the house; it’s faster that way. If anything happens, we give a holler. How’s that sound?”

“…That sounds, good,” said Kaneki.

“I can take ground floors,” directed Light. “Roppi can take basements, and you can take the upper floors.”

“Why do I get the basement?” asked Roppi flatly.

“I mean, you don’t have to, Roppi-kun; it was just a suggestion,” said Light easily. “If you’d like, I can take the basement…”

“Ah, but you’re also not armed, Light-kun,” said Kaneki calmly. “Perhaps the two of you…”

“No, no, no,” Roppi interjected, “I’d rather give him my fucking machine gun and let him have it—I’m used to fighting, I can handle myself with or without that thing. No.”

Light laughed a friendly and warm laugh. “I can tell you’re not too fond of me, huh, Roppi-kun?”

“Nope,” Roppi answered bluntly, narrowing his eyes at Light.

“I don’t want you to hand over that machine gun,” said Kaneki, waving Roppi off. “Light will just come with me, instead. Is that alright?”

“Fine.” Roppi’s tone was clipped.

“Mm, I don’t think there are basments in these houses anyway,” commented Light as they finished searching the ground floor. “It will all work out.”

Sighing harshly, Roppi started up the stairs. Glancing at one another, Light and Kaneki followed him up. Soon, the first house was cleared.

Upon heading to the next house, Roppi had already gone dead silent, glowering at nothing in particular. Kaneki paused as Roppi went into the house and began his half of the search without a word. “…Hm.”

“I wonder what it is about me that bothers him,” commented Light.

“I’m sorry about it… I’m sure it isn’t you specifically,” explained Kaneki softly. “I’m sure he’s just… stressed about everything that’s happened…”

“Of course,” Light smiled. They were heading up the stairs. “It’s only natural for him to be thinking illogically at this point, Kaneki-kun… The same goes for everyone. Including… well…”

“There’s something I’d like to ask you about,” Kaneki spoke lightly, shifting away from the darker of the topics. Light glanced at him with a hm? “…The language of flowers. You’d mentioned the hydrangeas’ meaning… Are you well-versed in such a language?”

“I am,” Light confirmed, a fond look to his brown eyes. “Well… my mother is. I listen, I learn. My mother… is the reason I know anything about any kind of flower… She’s also the reason I have any ability to cook.”

“…Your mother, huh…?” Kaneki looked at him. The half-ghoul seemed to be touched by the ghost of a smile, but it was more haunting than nostalgic, it seemed. “My mother… was a good person.”

“Ah.” Light took note of the past tense. “I see…”

“But then… what is your favorite flower?”

Light blinked. “I can’t say I can decide,” he chuckled. “I like many… What of you, Kaneki-kun?”

“Perhaps a carnation,” he commented thoughtfully. “Perhaps a spider lily. Perhaps… a rose…”

“A spider lily,” Light repeated in vague surprise. “A bit of an ominous flower, wouldn’t you say?”

Kaneki’s mouth tugged ever so slightly at one corner. “Ah… but my favorite sort of tale has always been a tragedy…”

Looking at him, Light found that he couldn’t think of much of anything to say.

Roppi found nothing downstairs, luckily for whoever might have been hiding there. The bitter one was bristling with bottled-up frustration. Something was very wrong with that ‘Light Yagami’ character. He almost suspected that it was that very boy who had killed hundreds of thousands in his little story back there. He had the right look in his eye. He had the right manipulative touch.

Light had the air of someone who liked having control of a situation. As in, he wanted utmost control. And if things didn’t go the way he wanted, he’d be pissed. He also kinda seemed like a prideful piece of shit, so that didn’t help Roppi’s mood in the least. Honestly, he didn’t know which was worse: being stuck with him, or letting him roam with the spacey Kaneki.

What, am I worried about him? Roppi wondered, nose scrunching in refusal. God damn it… The only person I should have to worry about is myself, here… He held his machine gun tighter. …But if he tries to fuck with Kaneki, I might shoot him. I might. He thought of the blade in his pocket. What would happen if Light were cut?

The Harrowing Blade… which draws out the worst in a person… Maybe he’d show his true nature?

If that were the case, surely it wouldn’t take too long for him to lose favor with the rest of both groups. And then he most certainly wouldn’t get his way… No, everything would fall apart for him… Fucker would deserve it.

…And on the off chance that he’s actually not a bad person?

—No, no, I know the kind of person he is. I can feel it. Maybe… yeah, next opportunity, I’ll…

Kaneki and Light converged with Roppi again before heading to the next house. Upon their reconnection, there was only a tense silence, with a hard expression and cold red eyes that cut through the other two’s conversation.

“You know,” said Roppi in a biting tone, “we should probably be quiet doing this, seeing as we wouldn’t want anyone we might find to hear us.”

“Mm, you bring up a good point, Roppi-kun,” Kaneki said softly, and Roppi clicked his tongue, slipping into the next house silently.

Stepping stealthily up the stairwell, Light began to muse to himself in the quiet whether it would be a good idea to tell Kaneki about the morals of Kira. It wasn’t about trying to have Kaneki back him as Kira, per se—they weren’t of the same realm, so it wouldn’t mean much. Kaneki was just so stuck in his head and in need of direction that Light thought it might be just the right push he needed. What’s more, if it was Light’s steering which got Kaneki out of his funk, then that would make it all the easier to make sure that the half-ghoul was doing things in Light’s favor.

Something told Light that Kaneki wouldn’t really know how to feel about him being Kira… but even if Kaneki seemed like the type to be normally quite perceptive, he was so stuck in his own head right now to be nearly as capable… Yes, that meant that Light may be able to convince him. While everyone else seemed to recoil at the prospect of Kira, Kaneki did seem to have the right mind for it. Living to save others, and the talk of disposing of rotten coffee beans… The half-ghoul was just hesitant to vocalize such ideas because others frown upon it when in a face-to-face scenario.

Kaneki on his side would be a wonderful asset. From what he’d seen, Kaneki was an incredibly strong player in this game, which would be very useful if he wanted to make it out of here… Yes, if I were to tell anyone about it, it would be Kaneki. It would have to be when we were alone… I’m sure that Roppi wouldn’t appreciate this gesture, so he can’t know… Well. I’ll wait until the next opportunity. Maybe I can see if he and I can get a night shift together tonight… Although, in that case, it would be hard to tell if everyone else is sleeping. Anyone could be listening in… Hm…

They searched the houses quietly and without incident. Nothing was found besides some useful supplies that could and would be used for dinner that night. Upon returning to their meeting place by the cemetary gates, they found that they were the first to return. Light could tell from a few stolen glances towards Roppi that the bitter boy was very frustrated about something. Light wondered what could be going through his head.

The three of them sat on small stone benches without backs; Roppi had his machine gun leaning against the leg of the bench, and Kaneki had his elbows on his knees, his head bowed in deep thought. The three sat idly. There was nothing to say.

Abruptly, Roppi stood. “I’m going to try to find Shintaro and Konoha,” he said flatly, and turned sharply to begin walking south, to their right. The graveyard was at their left.

“Alright,” Light answered, friendly.

Kaneki barely stirred.

Light watched Roppi go. Kaneki remained with his head down, his white hair falling over where Light would have been able to see his eyes. Now might be my chance, thought Light, bunching the fabric of his pants in his hands.

“Ah, Roppi didn’t bring his machine gun,” commented Kaneki quietly, and Light blinked, looking down to see that yes, his gun was still there, leaning against the leg of the bench. “I wonder… where it is he even got that one,” he continued. “Perhaps an items pillar? Maybe…”

“Mm, well, everyone is supposed to have some form of weapon, correct?” inquired Light, and Kaneki made a noise of agreement. “Well, Kiritsugu-san never had much of a weapon, if you think about it… He thought that he had his magic, but he didn’t have even that… He said he was an assassin… It’s quite possible he commonly used a firearm like that one.”

“…Ah…”

“I mean, Roppi-kun was the one to find the weapons, as well,” pointed out Light with a shrug.

“That’s true,” Kaneki agreed. He didn’t seem to much care whether Roppi had stolen the weapon or not. Light supposed it was fair – Kiritsugu wasn’t around anymore, anyway.

“Hm…” Should I bring it up now? He doesn’t seem very receptive at all… No—this may be my only chance for some time. His distant thoughts could very well be the reason I should tell him. He needs direction. If he keeps in his head like this, it’ll be to our group’s detriment. “Kaneki-kun?”

“…Yes, Light-kun?” A delayed answer, but an answer nonetheless. He was listening.

“What do you think… of that case?” Light leaned back on palms of his hands, pressed against the cool stone of the bench. “The one I told all of you about… the culprit who kills killers. What do you make of something like that?” He paused. “It’s a concept I’ve been struggling with since day one. Is he right? Is he wrong?”

“As I said… easy to label ‘wrong.’ You can’t say what’s right… no matter who you are. How can any of us know who’s right? Maybe everyone’s wrong…”

“Would it be wrong to envision a world where… where it isn’t rotten?” asked Light. “Isn’t that what he’s doing?”

“I think everyone wishes for a world that is right… but how do we know if that vision is ‘right,’ then?”

“For the innocent to finally live without fear?” pressed Light. “For every bad person in the world to die?”

Kaneki laughed slightly. “Dirtying his hands for the betterment of the world. A martyr that saves the world from its rotten core by, what, becoming rotten himself…? Like a self-proclaimed messiah, throwing himself into sin so that the rest of humanity can be forgiven… Is that it, Light-kun?”

Light gave pause. “I’d suppose so. Do you think that’s admirable?”

“Oh, yes,” Kaneki concurred.

“And what if he never had to do it with his own hands? What if he had been given the power of God’s judgment, Kaneki-kun?”

The white-haired half-ghoul looked at him. Light couldn’t quite tell what his expression meant. It rather bothered him. “…Roppi.”

Light blinked confusedly, turning to look where Kaneki was now turning his own gaze. There was Roppi, something dark gripped firmly in his right hand. His face was twisted with hatred, his eyes on fire. “Get the fuck away from Kaneki,” Roppi growled, and the two of them stood. “Kaneki, don’t listen to a word this fake tries to tell you.”

“Roppi-kun, calm yourself,” said Kaneki, his tone soothing.

“Fake?” Light repeated, his eyes burning with his own irritation. He furrowed his brow in false hurt. “Roppi-kun, I don’t think—”

“Fuck you. I know you’re a killer, you bastard,” Roppi hissed, skillfully flipping out a crimson blade from the black handle in his fist. “I can see it in your eyes that you do nothing but lie.”

“What is that?” inquired Kaneki, cautious.

Roppi’s eyes widened. Right, what would Kaneki think of—?

Tentatively, Kaneki stepped over the bench, holding up his hands slightly in peace. “Roppi, what is that?” he repeated.

Shaking his head, Roppi took a step back. Cold fear clutched at his heart. Why? Why hesitate now? Perhaps fear that Kaneki, who wanted only to save others, would see the true nature of Roppi, the one whose symbolic item was one that brought out the worst in others… Suddenly the bitter one only wished to put it away and have Kaneki completely forget about such a thing. You’ve done it now, Roppi, you little shit…

“Roppi, it’s okay. What is that?”

“No.” He pulled away from his prying hands, holding the blade behind himself. His eyes were wide with panic.

“Roppi, stop this…” Kaneki moved to confiscate it, and Roppi jerked away from him.

He took another step back. The ground was still wet. He didn’t know why he’d think of such a thing right then, but he knew that Kaneki was fast, faster than him. Kaneki, stop trying—leave it be, leave it be, leave it—

Kaneki was at his other side, suddenly, and Roppi lashed out with some kind of raw shout that had no meaning other than one of a threatened animal. Roppi froze. Kaneki’s hands were in front of him, one held up in a show of peace, the other reaching to grab the knife. Dread creeped from Roppi’s chest into his throat. Kaneki’s hand, though seemingly unblemished at first glimpse, began to seep with fresh blood.

No,” Roppi said again, this time in a hoarse whisper.

All this time, Light watched, on-guard.

Roppi stared into Kaneki’s eyes, a pale grey staring back into shocked red. Blankly, Kaneki brought his hand to him, staring at his palm as though inspecting something he’d never seen before. “…Oh,” he said, and seemed to sway.

Dropping the knife, Roppi stepped forward and grasped at his shoulders desperately. “Kaneki, don’t—don’t—” …Don’t what?

Oh god, please, please… Roppi felt the dull ache of trepidation coursing though every vein and artery in his body. Please be okay…!

“…Strange…,” Kaneki remarked faintly, lowering his head.

“What?” Roppi found his voice was taut. “What is it?”

“…It’s not… that I feel it… or anything…”

Roppi stared at Kaneki, willing him to look back at him again. “W…what do you mean…?”

“…But were you trying to kill me? You were angry with me, weren’t you? After all… I’ve, failed you… Haven’t I?” His voice had taken on a strange tone that Roppi found to be eerily familiar, though he couldn’t pinpoint why.

“…Kaneki—”

“Well?” Kaneki looked at him with pale eyes, expression tormented, smile twisted into a mix of desperation and sorrow. It was not the face Roppi hoped to see, one whose eyes were like wilted flower petals, devoid of all color. “You want it?” Kaneki stepped towards him, and now Roppi was backing up again. “…Kill me, then. Won’t you?” The half-ghoul tilted his head. “Do it. Kill me. You think I want to go on? The sky’s been fractured so long, and the clouds, have you seen them? They’re ugly. They’re ugly, checkered messes. Conglomerate sorrow. Isn’t it true that beauty is more entwined with death than with life?” Kaneki smiled with some form of distorted, hollow warmth. “Don’t you get it?” He closed his eyes in an expression of something once called ‘happiness.’

“I want to die,” he said.

Roppi’s voice had been stolen. His breath was gone.

“Please…” His tone was weak. Shriveled.

Kaneki was slipping from him, sinking, kneeling down on the wet grass and sagging under the weight of his sorrows. Roppi saw the picture of defeat, the portrait of having given up. Kaneki was evaporating with the stagnant raindrops around them. Like them, he had fallen. Like the sky… apparently.

“…Please…”

The pathetic, broken voice of someone who hadn’t the will to go on. Roppi could hear his own desperation birthed from Kaneki’s tired throat. What was he supposed to say? In the darkest night, who had brought him light but his Moon? And even Tsuki couldn’t wake him up from from that dark, dark upside-down world sometimes… To think, Kaneki would understand that… in a far deeper way than Roppi ever could have suspected.

“…Roppi, what did you do?” asked Light. All politeness had gone dry. His tone was somewhat cold.

Roppi stared back at Light with unseeing eyes. He had yet to grasp the mistake that knelt at his feet. Much to his greater terror, he felt Kaneki’s cold hands clutching at the bottom of his red-trimmed jacket. His pale, ghost-like face was upturned in desperation. “I get it now, Roppi-kun, the one I’m looking at, isn’t it none other than a shinigami? Isn’t it?” His smile was desperate, eyes wide. Shaking his head, Roppi took a step back, trying to pull away from his death grip. “In lying here, I can’t help but find you so, so beautiful. You know it too, don’t you? Don’t you? How that darkness is welcoming, how Death reaches out and welcomes as though it were a friend… All I wanted, all I want… is to be loved, but—no one, no one…”

Roppi finally managed to pull away, slipping backwards and falling with his legs turned oddly beneath him. He didn’t even notice, staring into the shattered mask that was Ken Kaneki, reaching out to him from the ground. His face was blank. Empty. Roppi had pulled from him; he’d refused to grant his wish. And so the half-ghoul slumped, eyes lost and empty. “Such salvation… would never be granted for me, the filthy Black Goat’s Egg…” his voice was no more than a whisper; utterings from the throes of endless tragedy. “Tell me, for what purpose do I continue to draw breath…? Is it some cruel god’s predestined fate for me? How long do I…? Everything’s fleeting. I keep turning pages, but every new chapter reads the same. Is there an end? Is there? Have I managed anything at all…? Shattered dreams, shattered sky, shattered heart—Someone, somebody… anyone… tell me; what do I do…?”

Silence answered him. Roppi had no idea what to say. Light’s expression was hard. The quiet settled on them, heavy and sodden.

What… thought Roppi, …have I done?

To be honest, he almost fancied the idea of taking that blade and slitting his own throat, but at this point he was coming to think he didn’t even deserve the peace of death, if it were peaceful at all…

Nothing was left.

(From their chair, Muse folded their hands together, gazing at the screen with flat eyes. “What a terrible ending that would make for him; for them. It’d be terribly inconvenient for Kaneki to just break like that… No, I think even Aureus would agree with me when I say that Kaneki shouldn’t break… Not here. Not now. Not like this.” Closing their eyes, Muse smiled. “Alright Kaneki… wake up, now. Won’t you?”)

The white-haired half-ghoul stirred, if slightly. His eyes were shrouded by his pale hair. Roppi couldn’t look at him anymore, and Light was about ready to go looking for one of the others from their groups by now… Roppi didn’t know whether he wanted them to find them all like this, or whether he didn’t want them to come back at all. He couldn’t tell. He couldn’t tell anything at all.

I’m such a fuck-up, he thought.

It was then that Kaneki brought his hands to his face, curling forward so that he was packed neatly into a small bundle of torment. “…Ah, I’d been wishing for an end since… oh, how long, now…?”

Light turned back to look at him. Roppi still didn’t want to look.

“…I’ve wanted death since I was a child.”

Roppi thought he heard a smile in his tone.

“All this time, I still wonder who lives inside of me. All this time, I try again and again and again to spare even the ones I don’t want to, pretending it’s my true wishes just because I think it’s ‘right.’ Is that ‘right’ of me?” Slowly, he got to his feet. Roppi turned to look at him again at last. “This world,” he said lowly, “…is wrong. Dreams… I have none.”

“That’s just it, though, isn’t it?” asked Light, smiling with some sadness. He spread his arms welcomingly. “This world is rotten. If we just had the power to grasp it… If we could take the world into our hands, surely it would be a better place…”

“There are people that the world is better off without,” Kaneki said flatly. “Like rotten coffee beans, they must be disposed of.”

“Exactly. With just a little help, that world… that ideal world could become reality! You can’t give up just yet, Kaneki…”

Roppi remained on the ground. He felt something twisted and menacing emanating from Kaneki’s presence, and he found himself backing up on the ground, his eyes wide. He couldn’t get up. He felt nearly paralyzed.

Before him was Kaneki, head bowed and countenance dark. Wordlessly, Kaneki raised his hand and cracked the knuckle of his index finger. Bursting from his back, the six scaled appendages emerged, not writhing at all, just there, poised as weapons.

I’m going to die here, Roppi thought, and closed his eyes, tensing in preparation. How painful would it be? Would Kaneki rip him to shreds, or would he be kind enough to give him a sraightforward, quick death? What would it be? He was ready for anything.

He heard a sickening splurch, and a scream. He heard rain. He heard heavy breathing. A sucking sound.

Roppi felt fine.

Physically, that is.

Opening his eyes, he stared in horror as Light fell to the ground, clutching at a hole in his gut and gasping for air, taking pause to hack out a nice amount of thick red. “Ka—negi, wha…? Why…’re you—?” He choked again, collapsing and holding his abdomen tight with a grimace on his face.

Roppi looked at Kaneki to find a calm smile touching his pale lips, an eerie contentedness showing through his hollow eyes. “Haven’t I told you? I have no dream. This world is wrong… I am a product of it. I’m a monster… a ghoul. Only a monster could pick out those rotten coffee beans. It takes one to rid the world of the others. Light-kun…” He stepped back over the bench and looked down on the bloody mess of Light Yagami with something close to disdain. “‘He who fights with monsters should be careful, lest he thereby become a monster. And if thou gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will also gaze into thee.’ Do you know who that is, Light-kun?”

Light stared in disbelief at such a question at this time. He felt every obligation to answer it nonetheless. “Friedrich—Nietzsche, I—do believe… But… K—aneki—”

“Very good,” Kaneki cut him off. “You’re correct.” With a sickening crunch, Kaneki’s kagune pierced Light’s left calf.

Another scream echoed. Roppi thought, Surely the others are hurrying back now.

“You’re not actually—going, to…” Light’s voice broke. It was his turn for desperation.

“Light-kun, your dreams are becoming rotten. You’ve taken a bite of that forbidden fruit and haven’t realized that you remain with only the rotten core.” Light stiffened as he heard that knuckle crack again. “Fortunately for you, I don’t much have a taste for anything rotten. I am, however, already weak due to the limitations placed on me. If I may.” He twisted Light’s arm and pulled, detaching it from the elbow. Light was whimpering in inexpressible agony.

“Kaneki-kun… You don’t understand,” he tried to reason. “Surely—you, too…”

Why should I spare someone like you?” Kaneki asked him, eyes looking down on him with icy distaste.

Roppi heard a broken sound, and Kaneki looked at him. The bitter one realized the noise had come from his own throat, and he covered his mouth instinctively. “My apologies for your shock, Roppi-kun. If you would… let the others know.” His eyes narrowed. “I want nothing to do with them.”

Roppi opened his mouth, then closed it.

“Thank you,” he smiled, and Roppi felt a shiver down his spine.

Kaneki seemed to disappear in a single blink of Roppi’s horror-stricken red eyes. It took some time. His ears were ringing. The world felt oddly surreal, and he felt strangely numb. He couldn’t feel a thing. Eventually, he stood, picking up his Harrowing Blade from the damp grass and going back over to the bench in a daze.

“A…ah, R…oppi—kun… could you… Come here, and—help me…?” asked Light, struggling to speak, struggling to breathe. Struggling to live. He looked as though he was trying to crawl towards him. “Could—you ask—Shintaro—kun… if he… the bag… the—medical kit…? I…”

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” Roppi said coldly, and stabbed him in the shoulder.

Light’s breath caught, and the other ripped the knife out, walking back over to his machine gun with fear pulsing through him, adrenaline making him shaky. He felt Light’s grip on his ankle and jolted in surprise. He turned back to glare at him only to find that that Light was just as pissed-off-looking. “Don’t you fucking leave me,” he spat. “I’m not—fucking dying here. I can’t die here. I won’t die here. I can’t. I won’t.”

Roppi pulled his foot from him and grabbed the gun.

“Don’t leave me here to die,” his tone was of a threat. Roppi skirted around him and began walking. “You piece of shit!” Light screamed at him as he ran for it, straight into the group of Konoha and Shintaro, rushing back with utmost urgency.

“R-Roppi, what the hell did you…?” Shintaro stared in disbelief. They could hear Akira’s group approaching from their side. The picture they were faced with: Kaneki was missing and Light was on the ground, picked apart and screaming for Roppi, who had a gun his arms and blood on his hands.

“No time,” said Roppi. “Tell the others I’m going out. Take care of it. Cover me. I don’t care.”

“But what—?”

“Kaneki’s gone.”

Shintaro stared in shock. “…Wh—?”

“Konoha, take me to Kaneki,” Roppi said, his tone serious.

“Ah… but…?” The android was still trying to catch up, mentally speaking.

“He’s in trouble. It’s bad. Okay?”

Konoha’s eyes widened. “Trouble…?”

“Yes, let me get on your back; we’re going after him now.

“What about me?” asked Shintaro, still behind on the uptake. Roppi was already on Konoha’s back.

“Stay with the others. Take care of them.”

“But Roppi—

“I’m sick of fucking up!” he snapped, and Shintaro stepped back. “There’s a huge fucking mess I just made, and I’m going to fix it this time!”

“…But… what do I do?”

Roppi looked at him, pausing. “Don’t fucking die, okay?”

“I—”

“C’mon, Konoha, let’s go!”

Konoha nodded. “I will be back, Shintaro,” he said.

Shintaro couldn’t find any words to say in time before they were gone, just like that. They left the scene to leave the others with in total confusion, at a loss as to what they had missed. All they had to go on was Shintaro’s vague message and Light’s desperate ranting and raving as he lay bleeding on the ground.

A mess had been made indeed.

 

Chapter 53: Encounter

Chapter Text

 

“Not all that glitters is gold, right?”

Aureus stirred, his eyes peering through the dim lighting of his secret hideaway with vague annoyance even though they still glimmered with something playful. He’d been banging his head on his counter in frustration, only to lay said cranium down soon after, arms wrapped around it.

Leaning against the stone walls of his space was a bald man in his thirties, a goatee stretching around his wry smile. His arms were crossed over his chest, his bulk giving off the air of someone almost like a bouncer. “Apparently real gold doesn’t even glitter,” Aureus remarked in answer. “It’s kinda dull.” He shrugged as he sat up, then proceeded to stretch. The bald one shrugged right back, and Aureus closed one eye, grinning at him. “What’s up, Durden?”

“Wanted to see what you thought of the badass turnout so far,” Durden replied with a lopsided smirk of his own.

“Badass,” Aureus repeated, refraining from rolling his eyes in exasperation. “That’s a word for it…”

Yeah, he’d saved Kiritsugu Emiya – thank God for that. He’d thought his payback would be having to deal with a possessed Izaya Orihara. Instead the Clearing Eyes Snake had been directed to A-ya, one of his very own handful of extra-special people.

Alright, I’m guilty. There are people I’m rooting for, too…

…But, come on, those five shouldn’t be messed with – it’s so not fair…

Aureus closed his eyes.

That was right: Celty, A-ya, Yukiteru, Shintaro, and Roppi were his. First there was Yukiteru getting messed with by Rodd, which had really worried him at first… Especially just going and telling A-ya that suddenly he had friends to return to! Much to Aureus’s relief, A-ya had taken it alright, but now…

What should he call this combo, anyway? Kuro-A-ya? Kuroya? …I really don’t ship this idea, he thought dully, rubbing at his crooked nose.

Seidou Takizawa was a whole different story. Poor Shintaro and Roppi had been led off-track by Durden – Asshole, he thought – and then there was the tragic ending of Touka. It wasn’t that bad, he tried to tell himself. She died with all those people around her; Kaneki and Akira and Saiko… But it still felt rotten in his chest.

Not to mention, Aureus had been rigid in his seat when Seidou had been contemplating the selection of his special item, begging him not to mentally, then shouting at him as he moved to press the button: “Don’t!” all while pulling at his golden hair.

Maybe there was some sadistic part of him wriggling with glee when he’d made his selection, but it had gone stale quickly. Oh, how he had wanted to ring up Muse, just to say “Jerk,” and hang up. Oh, how he had wanted to rewind him right back, but what would the symbolism be in that? And besides, Rodd had jurisdiction over all the time-related items anyway.

And Izaya was pissing him off, trying to mess with Yukiteru (If anything screws with that kid now I’m gonna kick someone’s butt!), and A-ya was freaking possessed, which needed no other explanation as to why that bothered him even just a little bit.

Here was Roppi using the Harrowing Blade, and Aureus’s heart had broken, seeing him lashing out at Kaneki. Listening to Kaneki beg for merciful death. He could almost admit it had gotten him to cry. Almost.

Maybe he was proud of Roppi now. Maybe that was good. But now everything was going wrong besides that, so what was he supposed to do?

“I’m pissed,” Aureus said to Durden, a blunt statement.

“I mean, I didn’t want Touka to die,” Durden shrugged. “It really upset me,” he added, pointing at Aureus.

“Then why did you aid it?” Aureus cried, his voice breaking.

“It was inevitable. I let her wake up; come on.”

“But you also ended her life.”

“You know she needed to die,” said Durden, crossing his arms again.

“Ugh…” Aureus tugged at the back of his scalp, using his hair for his grip. “I know…”

“Now, I did come here for something.” Durden straightened up, pushing off the stone wall and approaching Aureus in his swivel chair.

Aureus raised his eyebrows, sitting cross-legged on his seat. His eyes almost suggested a challenge. “…What?

“It’s about Light,” the other answered, leaning forward with one hand pressed to the counter attached to the wall. “You’re the ‘items master,’ still, right? What I’m thinking, well…” He lifted his hand, holding up to Aureus a slip of paper between his index and middle fingers. “Does he get this?

“A scrap of the Death Note, huh…” Aureus brought his hands to his face, rubbing at his eyes as though he were exhausted. “He’s not allowed to kill Roppi.”

“He’d need to know his name,” Durden pointed out. “For all he knows, his name is Roppi. But it’s not. So.” He shrugged. “Seraph doesn’t want Roppi dead either; God knows that.” He added a little bit of an eyeroll to that one.

“Hm…” Aureus folded his hands together, his eyes darkening as he thought. “Who would he kill, though?”

“How should I know? He'd probably try to kill Roppi, first thing.”

“Mm…” I have an idea. Aureus closed his eyes. And I really like it. Taking a deep breath, he released it slowly. “Do whatever you want, Durden,” said Aureus plainly. “I have plans for Light, too. That’s all.”

“It’s a deal,” Durden smiled.


It was A-ya who approached him. In watching the surrounding people from their combined groups interact, he came to find that everyone tended to find cohesion with others, sticking together like water droplets. Humans tended to work that way. Within the full group of ten in all, they all made small clusters of their own – Celty was currently becoming acquainted with Yukiteru, Akise being the catalyst. Twelve and Suzuya seemed to be paired up along with Minene and Rika, and the two pairs gravitated towards one another and made a group of their own. Rika, in turn, absorbed Roy into the mix.

Of course, in being an observer, A-ya was not a part of any of this… or rather, he didn’t feel like he was. All he was doing was watching, even though Yukiteru was pulling him along with his little group consisting of himself, Akise, and Celty. As much as Celty piqued his interest, he couldn’t help but notice that there was still one person apart from the others, watching from a rock with a smile on his face and a distant sort of satisfaction in his eyes.

Mumbling to Yukki that he was leaving for a bit, A-ya approached Izaya, Saeru stirring inside for some reason or another. It’s hardly fair that you can know everything going on in my head, but not the other way around, he thought.

You don’t want to know what my mind holds, Loner.

He almost found the response humorous, but then disregarded it and took to focusing on the world around him – Saeru wasn’t kidding when he said to be careful of Izaya, so that would be the plan. “You’re off on your own, over here,” A-ya commented, his tone as monotone as ever.

“I like to watch and listen,” Izaya answered with a twisted smirk. “Care to join me?”

In answer, A-ya sat beside him on the rock. “An observer, huh?”

“That I am, not unlike your friend there, Yukiteru-kun…” Izaya paused. “…Not unlike yourself.” A-ya made a small grunt of agreement, but the informant continued, “But A-ya-kun finds it rather boring, usually, doesn’t he, now?”

“Mundane everyday isn’t the most exciting,” A-ya admitted, “but I’m coming to find that the boredom I once loathed was actually happiness. Strange, don’t you think?”

He laughed. “Not at all! You’re nostalgic, hah? You know not what you wish for. But A-ya-kun… stagnance is the epitome of abnormality. One cannot remain stagnant, for humans are subject to change at any time. It’s the way they are, you know? If you really, truly hate the everyday, then you must constantly evolve! That’s the answer.” He held up a silver-ringed index finger. “It doesn’t even matter whether you aim higher or lower.”

“Constantly evolve, huh?” A-ya repeated. He thought on this, back to the days spent with his makeshift Occult Club. Somehow it felt like it was a repetitive existence, as though it was the same thing, over and over… The same day… The same patterns…

The serpent was snickering.

Reset, huh…

“Maybe we’re all part of a play,” A-ya remarked suddenly, and Izaya blinked at him, curious.

“Hah?”

“It’s all scripted, the same day, over and over and over again, and all we do in the end is reset the actors on stage to play the same scene again and again.”

Izaya smiled at him while A-ya listened to the distorted chortling of Saeru. “A-ya-kun, if you can achieve that, that is a feat indeed. To manage it, well, it sounds incredibly unlikely! And that’s what makes it interesting.” He grinned wider. “As ironic as that sounds.”

“It’s not ironic at all,” said A-ya, his eyes becoming distant as he stared at the ground beneath the rock they sat on. “You’re a showman yourself… You like writing the scripts. … Isn’t that right, Izaya?”

The information broker’s eyes narrowed as his smile thinned in a mix of suspicion and pleasure. “That’s right.” Closing his eyes nonchalantly, he shrugged. “If I were to be completely honest here, I’d have to admit that in the end, all of you are still just pieces to the game.”

“I bet you do it, too,” A-ya said softly, and Izaya glanced at him in interest.

“What’s that, A-ya-kun?”

A-ya put his hands out in front of him as though to present something. “You create tragedy… No… you don’t even have to create it, really. You just take a person’s preexisting tragedy… Take that, and project it as a comedy to the audience.”

Izaya watched as the boy’s eyes became wide in fascination as he thought things up in his head. As his red orbs shone with a distinct thrill, yeah, the same kind of thrill and excitement that Izaya recognized in his own satisfactions. “Hah?” He snickered joyously. “Say, sounds almost like spreading a rumor!”

“Huh?” A-ya stared at him blankly. He’d been caught up in his own thoughts. Rumors… “Do you know the best way to start a rumor?”

“There is a key phrase that humans latch onto,” Izaya grinned.

“‘Don’t tell anyone else,’” they chimed in at the same time, and the informant cracked up into snickering. A-ya had lit up – his usual stoic expression had become one of ecstatic joy, his eyes shining with some form of fixation.

“The internet is one of the best places for that kind of thing,” Izaya pointed out, holding up a finger again.

“Oh yes,” A-ya was nodding emphatically. “The internet leaves people even more gullible – you could pretend to be anyone you wanted!”

“Exactly,” Izaya laughed. He found it oddly alienating yet refreshing to hear someone going on about the exact things that he did. “But in the end, all of them are so foolishly gullible, aren’t they? All the time.”

“They are—but it wouldn’t be fun otherwise, right?”

“Not at all! It’s the reason I love, love, love humans!” The information broker clapped his hands together, and A-ya leaned forward, his eyes practically sparkling.

“As fun as they are, it’s even more captivating to learn about the odd ones out, the ones that make no logical sense – the myths, the legends, the occult…"

“Did you know, A-ya-kun?” Izaya was raising his eyebrows in his cold sort of amusement. “Celty-san is quite the abnormality, under those terms. Things like that are very real, and probably exist even in that boring world of your own… Yes, that’s right, A-ya-kun. Celty isn’t human at all, and she and I are from Earth just like you, if from a parallel realm.”

“Celty… not human?” A-ya repeated, eyes widening. He was leaning in further, enraptured in such a thought. “Then what…?” He began drawing from every urban legend that could occur to him. Bike rider… helmet? Maybe—what if she was headless? It would explain her being mute! Headless, rider? Headless horseman, or one of the Blemmyes – some sort of spirit wandering? What could it be? “I had suspected something was interesting about her, but I couldn’t guess what it was, see, because there’s always the possibility of your realm and my realm having different myths, different legends… I was going to ask, but then ended up not doing it just because I—I don’t know, I kinda stopped caring because maybe I was thinking too much about other stuff, but not human! What is she? Do you know? I’ll ask her even if you don’t say.”

Izaya blinked with a comically blank expression, as though he actually didn’t know how to react to this kid’s outburst of utmost excitement. He almost thought he was cute. His mouth twitched in supreme delight. “In my realm, she’s known as the Dark Rider, riding a jet-black motorcycle: the greatest urban legend of Ikebukuro!”

A-ya was on the edge of his seat in anticipation.

“Because, under that helmet…”

“…there’s nothing,” A-ya breathed. He looked at Izaya, maintaining eye contact. “…There isn’t, is there?”

Izaya shook his head, unable to contain his mirth. “Nothing at all! Isn’t it great? But the bitter irony is that for the longest time, even she didn’t know what she was, exactly! It’s funny, really… She lost her head!”

“She lost it?” he repeated, amazed. What a story!

He was nodding, leaning in himself now, having lowered his voice like he were telling something he shouldn’t. His hand was cupped around his mouth in a secret-telling fashion. “So Celty-san doesn’t even remember anything about what she’s supposed to be, or how long she’s been alive, so on and so forth…”

“What a mystery!” A-ya exclaimed in even further intrigue, keeping his own tone down now too.

“Yes, yes~ She’s been searching for her head since she first woke up – apparently she thinks it’s somewhere in Japan…” Izaya’s mouth twisted. “Now, it took some digging, but I figured out exactly what she is.” The informant was pleased by how he was pulling A-ya along, so caught up in the tale. “A-ya-kun, have you ever heard of a Dullahan?”

“A headless rider, after all!” His fists were gripped in front of him like he were containing himself, his shoulders bunched around his neck in excitement. His arrowed ahoge was pricked up happily. “A Dullahan of Celtic folklore, of course… Hell, her name is Celty…”

“I see you do.” Red-brown eyes were shining in satisfied entertainment.

A-ya calmed down some, tilting his head slightly and smiling wryly at his new partner in legends and myths. I can’t wait to tell—

…C-ta and B-ko…

A pause.

…I want to tell Yukiteru about it tonight.

“You’re the one that has her head, aren’t you?” A-ya asked softly, knowingly.

Izaya scoffed, brushing off the accusation with good humor. “I’ve no clue what you’re talking about. I’d never do such a thing, you know?”

“…Ah,” the dark-clad boy answered, not buying it. He looked out at the others, observing once more. Having had his fun, Izaya turned out to look too. He found that the smile playing at his mouth slipped off rather quickly.


What was left of Groups 4 and 5 took residence for the night in one of the houses dotting the edges of the long dirt road. The houses had all been riffled through already, it seemed, but there was no one in the surrounding area according to Shinichi with his heightened hearing and Rin with her heightened sensing of the spirit. None of the places had been emptied, so they were able to eat dinner and take rest for the night. They decided they would put one person on watch at a time, and first up was Senji. Senji and Rin bickered a bit over dinner, as had become their routine for just about every situation. Hide joined in heartily, much to Rin’s annoyance. Shinichi was very quiet, but with a joyously teasing remark from Hide, the bleached-blond-haired boy managed to earn a slight chuckle from the partial parasite.

“You know,” Hide remarked to him as they were readying themselves for bed, “you kinda remind me of him – my best friend, yeah?”

Shinichi blinked at him, tilting his head slightly. “…Kaneki?” He wondered if perhaps he was talking about the one that Shinichi had never gotten the chance to meet – the one he wasn’t anymore, just like Shinichi wasn’t really Shinichi.

“Yep, that’s the one! Don’t worry, it’s a compliment. It means I wanna be your buddy,” he beamed, nudging him. “Have good dreams about good stuff. Like—puppies, or something.”

Gaze softening, Shinichi nodded slightly. He’d sleep just a little bit better that night. He dreamt of Migi and Ciel. He dreamt of meeting Kaneki. Oddly, he had black hair, but somehow that felt right.

Soon the nightmares would blot out these images, but until then, it was a beautiful vision.


“Why are we stopping?” asked Roppi, voice taut.

“Ah, there is a food building…,” Konoha answered, tone spacey.

“No,” Roppi said harshly, and considered hitting him with the butt of his machine gun. Tightening his jaw, he stopped himself.

“Oh,” Konoha said softly, and continued.

“Eh, you can put me down for now,” Roppi grumbled, and Konoha gently let him off of his back and onto the street. Situating his machine gun in his arms, he looked at Konoha. “Okay. Konoha, what’s the update?”

“Update? On…”

“On who’s nearby,” Roppi frowned. “You said you could hear people from far away.”

“Oh, yes!” Konoha lit up, if expressionlessly so. “Yes, I can do that. There are two people that way, not too far,” he said, pointing north. “And someone closeby, here,” he pointed somewhere up ahead.

“Well, Kaneki’s not going to be with anyone,” Roppi said bitterly, and went on walking alongside the android. “So let’s go for the single person up ahead.”

“Okay.” Konoha nodded.

“How do you do the hearing thing, anyway?” The raven-haired one squinted at the android, eyeing his yellow headphones. “Is it just because you’re an android, or do you have some kind of enhanced headset… or something?”

“Huh?” He blinked in answer.

“Can you hear because of your ears, or your headphones?”

“I don’t understand.”

“What do you mean you don’t understand?”

Konoha paused in walking looking at him with a furrowed brow. “I’m… sorry—ah!”

“Well, I’ll just see,” he muttered, tugging on one of his headphones.

“D…don’t pull that… it—hurts…”

Drawing his lips into a thin line, Roppi released him, leaving Konoha to rub at his headphone with tears in his eyes. Okay… so… his headphones… are his ears. Got it. He looked at the sky. Why did I choose to run off with this guy, of all people?

“Ah, Roppi.”

“What.”

“Is Ka… ah… ne, ki? Kaneki?”

“Yes. Kaneki.” Roppi was finding his patience was wearing very thin with this one.

“Is Kaneki… not okay?”

“Of course he’s not!” Roppi snapped, and Konoha flinched. The bitter one looked away, realizing he’d probably hurt his feelings or something stupid like that. “I fucked up, which is the whole reason we’re chasing after him…”

“I do not understand the term ‘fucked up.’”

“I swear to god.” Roppi started walking again. Konoha stared after him a few seconds before jogging to catch up, then walking alongside him again. “I messed up, Konoha. That’s what it means.”

“Oh. Okay. I’m sorry.”

“Well, I’m the one who needs to apologize to Kaneki right now, so spare your breath. How far ahead is he?”

“He is in that next building.” The albino pointed to one of the longer, narrower ones.

Roppi’s brow furrowed. I don’t know whether I’m recognizing this right, but… isn’t this the spot where we first met up with Group 1? His mind mocked him, The place where Delic died, right? He ignored himself, and stepped forward earnestly, entering the building without hesitation. “Do you know what floor he’s on?” he asked the android quietly, but he only shook his head.

“I am sorry, I just know that here we are.”

“Thanks. I can take it from here,” he brandished his gun in preparation.

“It is dangerous in this world,” Konoha insisted softly. “I will also come.”

Roppi remembered how the bullets from this machine gun had bounced off of the Gourmet as if it were nothing. Granted, that made it all the better to use against Kaneki, right? Because he didn’t want to hurt him…

He realized that maybe he hadn’t thought this through. He realized he didn’t care. He kept going.

“Kaneki,” he called out to the eerily familiar building. The sun had set, and none of the lights were on inside the building. Konoha followed behind him as he went from hallway to hallway through the dark. “I’m just here to talk. I told the others what you had to say… But I wanted to finish our conversation… so…” He swallowed. His throat was oddly dry. Amazing that calling out to this one person is more rattling than going against a full group on my own. Roppi took a deep breath and released it slowly. There was no way it had to do with the fact it was pitch black, no, not at all. Not to mention Konoha’s eyes were glowing fucking pink. Seriously. “Come on out… I really don’t like this game of hide-and-seek right now…” He passed by the area that had the items pillar; it was thrumming and pulsing with something that made his skin crawl for some reason. The glow hurt his eyes as much as the Voice would hurt his head. He expected the static silhouette to come out of nowhere, congratulating him on his find. So he skirted the hell around that thing, and the room remained relatively quiet, save for that god-awful humming. That’s where Tsuki got his medical bag, he thought absently, and he felt an ache within him. He pushed it down.

“Are you on a different floor?” he tried again, and was annoyed to find that his tone sounded weak to his own ears. He cleared his throat. “I can go upstairs…”

It was in the thin hallway before the couch area where his and Kaneki’s groups had first really interacted, right after Delic’s death. Yeah, that was right, Kaneki had helped set his arm, and at that time he had seen, seen the cuts, the proof of his self-loathing, the…

He heard wet sounds, the sick kind that made him think of the sounds of Light being pierced through the gut only to have Kaneki’s kagune get ripped back out of him again. There was dripping. Gnawing. The sounds of a carnivore. Roppi’s heart was beating in his ears. Up ahead, he could see very dim lighting creeping around that corner.

Shakily, he held up a hand to tell Konoha to stay back. Carefully, he rounded the corner to find himself in a dimly-lit, eerily flickering version of the couch room, a wraith standing in the center of the room and staring straight through him with wide eyes rimmed with black. One was glowing red, the sclera pitch black.

That’s not Kaneki.

Licking his blackened lips without expression, the pale white-haired half-ghoul called Seidou Takizawa straightened up, peering at Roppi as though from the dark. Much to Roppi’s horror, there was a half-eaten arm gripped in Seidou’s hand, the remnants of a white jacket and pink shirt just barely visible from where he stood. …Delic. Roppi found himself taking a step back. “What are you doing?” he tried to ask, but it came out choked; breathless.

Seidou stared him down, looked at the arm, then back at Roppi. “…Oh. This is cute.”

“Wh…”

“What, is it your cue to find me here? What a sardonic set-up. Probably. Or a sardonic coincidence. Either way.” He smacked his lips. “My entire life is sardonic.” His mouth twisted into something like a grin. “I heard you calling for… for… oh, you know. Him. Kaneki.” He paused. “Maybe I’m living in a satire. Is that funny?”

Roppi shook his head. “What are you doing,” he tried again. It didn’t sound like a question, but it actually made it out of his throat this time, so that was good enough for him.

“Huh? Well, Roppiii…” A crescent grin stretched over Seidou’s face – a sardonic grin, if you will. “He always said ‘Delic’ was short for ‘delicious,’ right?” He tittered, swaying in pleasure. “You know, the very, very best part is actually the head, most blood, lots and lots. Love it! But I already finished that. No, no, that look on your face, that thought in your head is wrong. This isn’t all that’s left of him, no, I really only took the head and the arm, I prooomise. Really! I have no reason to lie about that.”

Roppi stared at him in shock. “What the fuck.”

“Hm?”

“What the actual fuck.”

Seidou began to titter madly once more before the smile dropped suddenly from his face as he leaned forward. “What, you scared?”

“What the fuck happened to you to fuck you up this bad?!” Roppi cried, bringing a hand to his head. “No, seriously! You were our leader! We need you…!” He stopped, biting his lip; he didn’t want to let too much slip here. I need you, you piece of shit… He refrained from closing his eyes.

Seidou tilted his head, his snow-white hair falling to the side. It covered the eye that was still considered human. “…Really. That so?”

“Yes, you fucking asshole; we needed you, so get the hell back and—”

“What did you need me for, exactly?” Seidou inquired of him, tone biting. His mouth was downturned in a perpetual scowl, his bloody teeth bared. “To remain with Group 1 and make sure the alliance was sound? As a responsibility buffer? What?”

Roppi swallowed again, guilt gutting him. “Seidou… I ran off because I was being a dumbass… Please don’t pin it on that… I’m sorry, Seidou.”

“Apologies do shit,” Seidou spat back at him, regurgitating the very acid that Roppi had coughed up soon after Tsuki had died.

Realizing he had said the same words to Shintaro, Roppi staggered backwards until he felt Konoha at his back. He looked up in fear to see Konoha staring with those gentle eyes back down at him. His fear and shame became rage, and he began stalking forward again with new life. “Fuck you, Seidou. The fuck is this bullshit? What, you saying that ‘cause you don’t know how to go about making your amends to the people who are already dead?” Seidou blinked, taken aback. “You are eating Delic’s body. You tried to save him! It’s just fucking ironic that now I’m standing with the person whose body killed him, and here you are chowing down on his remains like no tomorrow! What the fuck?! Tell me!” He stepped forward again. “What the hell happened to respecting the dead, Seidou?! You tell me! You tell me right now!”

“What’s the difference?” Seidou answered, his tone dead. His head was tilted back slightly, his eyes wide with his eyeballs swiveled to stare at him. “They’re dead anyway… aren’t they, Roppi?” Seidou took to laughing a deranged and bitter laugh.

Roppi’s red eyes narrowed at the gross reiteration of his own bitterness. “…Seidou…” His tone was low. How was he supposed to get through to him? “You, were a good leader…”

“Bullshit,” he spat.  He took a threatening step forward, but Roppi stood firm. Konoha tensed slightly, ready to move. “You think I’ll buy that? Good leader? Bwahaha… Is that how you’re gonna try and snap me outta this? Yeah? Ooo, is that really what you think?” His eyes shone, he stepped forward, his mouth beginning to upturn. The arm of Delic was dropped to the ground, discarded. There was a manic glow to him, but it was still a glow, and from this black hole of a man, Roppi figured he was getting somewhere. “Roppi, is that really, really what you think? What you thought? What you’re thinking? That I was, I was, I was a…?”

“You asshole, I don’t give compliments unless I fucking mean it,” he said, more confident in his words.

Seidou’s eyes closed in something like contentedness, and Roppi relaxed until he found Seidou’s face only centimeters from his own, eyes wide as dinner plates and expression dead. Roppi didn’t have time to react to the cold, bloody hands at his throat. “THEN FUCKING LISTEN TO YOUR SUPERIORS. Don’t you go on saying you respect me only to shit on me the next second!” He was shouting at him, his tone rising and rising like an eruption of raw resentment. Roppi was in the air with Seidou’s hand at his throat; he couldn’t hear the sound of the machine gun falling with a clatter to the ground, or the outcry of Konoha, caught in the moment of asphyxiation and grabbing what felt like the wrist of a dead man with one hand while he reached on instinct for his knife with the other.

You can’t use that, he thought as his vision blacked out.

All of this only took a second.

Roppi felt a jerking sensation, and a gust of wind. He regained his senses in a heap on the floor, dazedly piecing together the image before him. Konoha had run for it, separating the two with his android arms, sending Seidou skidding backwards across the floor. He stopped himself with his heels and a hand that he pressed to the ground, leaning forward with his face contorted into a mask of disgust and torment. “Seidou Takizawa was a failure as a leader. He wasn’t meant to be one, not here, not ever. Seidou Takizawa wasn’t a good leader… No…” He slowly rose, removing his hand from the ground and tilting his head almost at a ninety-degree angle. “I do hate that about him,” he said, his teeth bared.

Konoha was standing with a wide stance, prepared to stop Seidou from trying to hurt Roppi again. Roppi was staring in terror. He really believes the shit he’s saying right now, he thought, and tried to answer him only to choke, holding his throat and swallowing a few times to try and regain proper speech.

“Don’t go and try to ‘get back’ Seidou Takizawa,” Seidou said to him, nearly growling his words. “You cannot ‘get’ me back. There’s nothing to ‘get back.’ I killed Seidou Takizawa a while ago, and he fucking deserved it. Tell me… what is it you two fear?” He straightened, his shoulders relaxing. His eyes remained wide, but his human eye was so pallid it looked empty in this eerie half-light. “I already know… Roppi… that you don’t fear death. I don’t hate that. Fear is a curious thing, you know – people fear what is apart from themselves, like night and day. Moon and sun. You must be close with death, I can tell. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have longed for it. How do I know? Yeah, maybe the fear is in me being able to tell, but that’s more ‘shame’ than fear, isn’t it?” He took a step forward, laughing vaguely. “I see that easy in your face, but then, what is it you fear, Roppi? I’m curious. Maybe, I can help. People fear death, because they are living themselves. It is apart from them, and therefore, they fear. You’ve died yourself, haven’t you? When was it? When did you die?”

“Do you really want to know?” Roppi asked him, his voice breaking. Konoha glanced back at him.

“I’d love to,” Seidou answered.

Kneeling on the ground with one hand to his neck almost as if to stabilize his larynx, Roppi looked up at him, feeling the vulnerability of ages past. He felt himself clawing his way out of saran wrap, no, cellophane – yeah, you could see through your shell, your cell, but you couldn’t really breathe; you couldn’t really be free. He felt his own pale lips trembling in anticipation of the words on his breath. “I died,” he said, “when my mother killed herself.” His words were heavy, he released them and felt heat tickling his cheeks. He tasted salt. The cellophane, his cell, yes, he felt it break. I’ve never told anyone, he thought distantly, and Seidou just looked at him with a generally unconcerned expression. “I died,” he continued, “when I found her hanging there from our fucking ceiling fan, strung up like a decoration. Yeah, she was a bitch, and now a murderer. It wasn’t herself, it didn’t take one, no, that rope took two, and I… didn’t notice.” He laughed breathily, feeling a trembling throughout him, the tremor of a demon’s escape. Exorcism. He looked at his teammate with new eyes, shining with tears that were spilling over like streams that could fill that cup those psychological assholes always talked about. Half-full? Half-empty? Just fill the damned cup. His vision was blurred in his clarity, and he thought maybe he was smiling. He couldn’t tell. “Seidou, I didn’t even notice,” he repeated. He seemed somehow pleased, somehow thrilled, yet still sodden with sorrow.

Seidou looked back at him with his clear eyes and blotted mentality, his expression impassive. His eyes were aloof. “Ah, your mom died, huh? I remember that now. Suicide, really… What an easy answer to the unsolvable. What a bitch. What a… a… Wonder why she’d do it. Wonder, I wonder. Roppi, hey…”

Roppi stared back at him, tilting his head ever so slightly in indication of his acknowledgement. He chose to ignore the prods and pricks, though he felt himself flinch at some of his words. In emerging from his protective casing, the raw flesh was exposed. His insides were showing, and Seidou knew it.

“…Do you know what happened to my mother?”

Roppi searched his memory, scrabbling around for something in his head. Don’t tell me his mom did that too. But all he could come with was an askew memory of a time where that asshole of a Voice mocked him and his mother… Then, yeah, they told them whether the close ones were okay, right? Hadn’t Seidou’s mother been fine? So no, that wasn’t it… but, he did fast forward…

“I ate her.”

Roppi twitched, feeling something rising in his throat that he couldn’t identify. Was it horror? He couldn’t even tell.

“And she… tasted—good.” He was bringing his hands to his face, his eyes quivering in their sockets.

Roppi felt the sudden need to get the hell away from there, his heart beating in his ears. His only thought was, Holy shit. He glanced at Konoha only momentarily to find that he looked vaguely confused as ever. He didn’t want to look away from Seidou – he was like a car crash: you don’t want to look, but you can’t tear your gaze away. That was what Seidou was.

“Good, good, good, good,” he said mildly, beginning to curl forward, laughter burbling in manic fashion. “Good, good, good. Heeheehee, goooood.” His eyes were flickering with the dim, yellowish lights. “A, a, aaa…”

Roppi fancied that he saw something flickering in those eyes, maybe someone that he was hoping to get through to. He remembered the fumblingly earnest group leader that they had, his brown eyes fiery in their determination. The man before him had only broken, hollow, cold orbs. Suddenly Roppi felt only a heavy sadness. “If I hadn’t run off… you wouldn’t have made that selection,” he said softly. “We wouldn’t be having this twisted conversation, and you’d be okay.”

“This was inevitable!” he snapped, making Konoha jump.

“No it wasn’t, damn it!” Roppi snapped back. It hurt his throat. He didn’t care. “Snap out of it, you jackass! We want you back! I want you back, and that’s fucking saying something here! I don’t care who you ate, we’ll just have to fucking deal with it!”

“You are the last person I want to hear that from,” he answered lowly.

“I was just fucked in the head!” Roppi cried. “I still am! I know it! We’re all screwed up! I know! I know it—! But—but Seidou, I… I brought back the medical bag… It’s back with the others… Shintaro shoved some sense into me, so we can go back and maybe you’re fucked up more than before, but Seidou… please… I want to fix this. I didn’t want this to happen to you, I didn’t mean for any of this… to…”

You think I wanted THIS? You think I WANTED THIS?” Seidou staggered backwards. “I didn’t! I didn’t! I didn’t! I couldn’t HELP IT, can’t HELP IT!” His shouts of bitter resentment became a rising outcry of remorse.

“Seidou…”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” he screeched, his kagune bursting from his back in the form of red wings. “Leave! Leave! LEAVE!

“Seidou, wait—!” Roppi began, but Seidou broke through the ceiling as the other at last regained his footing. Before Konoha could jump after him, Roppi grabbed the android at the sleeve. Konoha blinked at him, and they listened to the sounds of glass shattering – Seidou had likely left out of one of the windows of the upper stories.

“But, your friend…,” said Konoha softly.

“If he can be saved,” Roppi answered slowly, “I don’t think… I don’t think it can be by me.” His voice cracked. Yeah, I’m not made for saving…

“Why not?” Konoha inquired.

“It’s… a long story… but…” He trailed off into silence, and the albino tilted his head.

“…But, what?”

A rueful smile tugged at his mouth. “But I’ve realized something. Thanks to him…” His head lowered. “…Thanks, Seidou…”

“What is it?” asked Konoha, and the other didn’t answer. “Roppi…? Ah…” He held his shoulders. “Oh, your eyes are wet… It’s running down your face, Roppi. …Ah… I don’t know… how…” He paused, furrowing his brow slightly. “I cannot say whether things will turn out as you wish them to,” he said quietly. “I cannot make a promise that might not be right. But… It will end sometime. It has to, I think.” He held Roppi in his cold but oddly comforting embrace. The darker of the two refrained from resisting even though he wanted to. He didn’t hug back, but Konoha didn’t even notice. “It has to,” he reiterated, closing his strawberry eyes and feeling Roppi tremble in his arms, tensed up like he was trying not to shake.

“The last thing I said to him before this was a lie,” Roppi murmured. “Back before, he was a lot different. And the last he got of me at that time… I mostly ignored him or snapped at him… I don’t think I could get through to him, now. I don’t think… it can be me.”

“Sometimes we can’t be the ones who save the people we want to,” Konoha said soberly. “We all wish for that moment where we can actually say, ‘See you next time.’ But… sometimes there isn’t a next time. And sometimes things change too fast. I, too, will wish for you to be able to say that to him.”

Roppi chuckled brokenly. “‘See you next time,’ huh…? I’ve never said that to anyone… I don’t like saying it; it means I expect to see them again. And humans… well… people, are unreliable in that way… most of the time.” He closed his eyes. “I think I want silence.”

Konoha blinked. “…Okay,” he whispered, and allowed the quiet to blanket them.

 

Chapter 54: Yesterday

Chapter Text

 

“You know what, Konoha?” Roppi asked eventually, after a long and comfortable time of nothing at all. By now the two were sitting on the couch, Roppi with his elbows on his knees and Konoha with his hands placed gently on his lap, sitting with perfect posture save for his slightly downturned head. Wordlessly, Konoha looked at the other, who still gazed at the floor. “Thank you.”

Konoha blinked. “You’re welcome. What are you thanking me for?”

Roppi shrugged as he sat up, then leaning back on the couch and putting a hand to his forehead. “I’ll have to thank Seidou, too. Whether he listens or not. I want to thank him… for a lot, actually. One thing I’ve gotten out of this is… I… I dunno. I feel like I don’t have to be what I was made to be. Pretty fucking ironic that I learned that looking at the mess that he is right now, but… I was made to be representative of the bitterness Izaya Orihara harbors. But I don’t need to be that… I’m not him. I’m not Izaya.”

Quietly, Konoha nodded. “It is like how I care very much for my friends… yes… even though I don’t have a heart.”

Roppi smiled slightly, lopsidedly. “Kinda like that, yeah. Because the difference between Izaya and I… well… he has no one. I… I have more than that. I have no idea why I’m telling you all of this, but… I know now that I can’t just let Seidou go, either. I told him something that I’ve never told anyone, not even the fucking police that came and asked me why my mother wasn’t breathing anymore. No, after that, there’s no way I can just leave him be. It means I give a shit about that motherfucker, so I’m going to make sure to fix that mess, too.”

“So we need to help him, also,” said Konoha with another slight nod.

“And Kaneki,” said Roppi, bringing his arm over his eyes and laughing a bit. “I need to thank him, too, anyway… After all, he…” Well, he set my arm back in place, and saw all those cuts and scars. Didn’t say a goddamn word, that respectful ass.

Even when Roppi had bitterly pointed them out, making the assumption that the half-ghoul was judging him silently, Kaneki had only smiled sadly at him and said, “All I see are the scars from the war you’re fighting behind your eight faces. It’s okay, Roppi… I understand.”

That had shut him up quick.

Roppi released a heh. “He’s the one who tried to slap some sense into me, after all,” he commented, remembering when he’d stricken him. Not that he didn’t have it coming, no, he definitely deserved a nice smack. Probably deserved worse. But Kaneki had been the only one to actually do something.

Konoha only tilted his head.

“Ah… we should get going, anyway.” Roppi said, and got to his feet. “The night’s only just begun. Totally don’t need something like ‘sleep.’” Snickering vaguely, he picked up the machine gun from the floor. “Ready, Konoha?”

“Yes,” Konoha answered, and stood.

They had a long night ahead of them.


Kaneki sat on the floor of a shorter building in relation of some of the skyscrapers in this area. This one had only two stories, and he was on the second floor. He was leaning against the wall that faced the street, and to his right was an open door that led to the balcony behind him. The moon shone through this exit. Light Yagami’s lower arm had already been eaten clean, and the stained bones that remained had already been discarded. Kaneki saw no reason to feel bad about the action.

On his own hand, he could still feel the strangeness of a laceration through his flesh that had no pain attached to it. Upon closer examination, the cut, although deep, only bled in small drops… and that was only if applying pressure to draw blood. It struck him as odd – it was where Roppi had accidentally sliced him… but a regular old switchblade shouldn’t be able to penetrate his skin anyhow. And come to think of it, where did he get a switchblade in the first place?

Ah, and it isn’t healing, either, he thought before shrugging off the matter. It wasn’t of consequence to him.

In isolation, Kaneki was left with himself as his own company, and he wasn’t the best guy to spend time with right now.

Light, he disgusts me.

Not that I’m any better than he.

He closed his eyes, white lashes half-glowing in the reflected moonlight.

I want to remain here. Those group members of mine… I don’t want to see their faces. I don’t want to speak with them. I prefer to be alone. I am meant to be on my own. This is my space. The one thing that is mine. It belongs to me.

I know what I’ll do from here. Perhaps this is best during the night, when everyone is at rest. There are a few select people that need to be disposed of, and everyone knows it. Yato informed me that Kuroha isn’t dead, implying that even though Konoha is back… it doesn’t mean our fight with the demon is over. His mouth twisted wryly. ‘Our’… Right. Well. There is him to find. There is Yato, who has turned his back on what he once believed in, so it seems. Izaya is someone whom I see no reason to live. Then there is… His grey eyes opened, his pupils chasms. …Seidou, right. He smelled his softness, drifting and meandering through the air without any rhyme or reason to its movement. Half-ghouls, on the scale of taste… are far more appetizing than anything else you could possibly give a ghoul.

Without a sound, Kaneki got to his feet. His footsteps seemed loud in the silent night as he made his way to the balcony. Down below was the ghost-like figure of Seidou Takizawa, transparent in the moonlight despite its vividness. Both of them stared at the other without expression, their eyes locked. Seidou’s mouth twitched. “Gone and run off, have you?” asked Seidou from the ground, and Kaneki gazed at him impassively. “Roppi was looking for you.” He tittered, swaying as he grinned at Kaneki. “How fucked is that? He was looking for you, first priority over me. Maybe because he thought he had more of a chance to bring you back rather than me, am I right? Why are you off and about, huh? I’m curious.”

Silently, Kaneki continued to look down at him. His expression was aloof. He didn’t appear to care that Seidou was before him.

“Fine, fine. I’ll cut to the chase.” His teeth were bared, his smile wiped clean from his pale features. “Now that it’s just you and me… Kaneki. Why don’t we share some secrets?”

Though his eyes narrowed ever so slightly, Kaneki gave no other indication of acknowledgement.

Seidou clicked his tongue irately. “Won’t talk? Huh? A little sour, are you? Act as you will. I don’t give a shit. Just means I might have to hurt you just to have a chat. Right? Is that the game you’re playing? You played it even after you became a CCG officer,” he added, his tone gaining in acidity. “You. A CCG officer. How fucked up is that?” He laughed harshly. “You—a CCG officer!” he repeated in mirthless hilarity. “Ken Kaneki… Seems you’re actually being yourself for once. I’m glad. You told me you’d already died. Yeah? That right? You remember that? Well, look at who’s in front of you, Kaneki…” His mouth spread across his ghostly features, his eyes wide. “I’m sure, I’m sure, I’m sure that when we had those special one-on-one chats, you wished for someone who’d actually understand, didn’t you? And I, Seidou, the ignorant human, could never, not ever understand such an existence as your own! And, hey, look!” His eyes squinted in distorted glee. “I’m just like you.” He cackled while Kaneki continued to watch him without much reaction. Seidou’s laughter cut out, and his smile dropped. “Is this what you wanted?”

His gaze piercing, he glared up at where Kaneki stood. Kaneki continued to give him no answer. Seidou’s bloody mouth twisted downwards into a scowl. “None of it meant anything in the end, did it? To think, I almost liked working with you. It was nothing but a set-up, you know? Some kind of twisted show. I bet even this meeting here is planned, and I’m just speaking my lines like their obedient puppet. But that’s okay, because you’re a part of it, too. Everything in this fucking game is a set-up. And just like everyone before, just like our realm, they’re just laughing at me. You and I were working side-by-side, two ‘leaders’ in an alliance. Do you know how disgustingly ironic that is? It makes me sick. Kaneki, do you know why this happened to me?” He spread his arms to present himself. “I was a part of some experiment, yeah? I was a guinea pig. Do you know what their objective was? Do you know what their motive was?”

Kaneki’s eyes stared right through him.

“They wanted to ‘recreate the product named Ken Kaneki.’ The perfect product! The masterpiece! The ideal!” His tone lowered. “Yes. They put me through Hell just to recreate you. It was you. In your name, I went to Hell.” Tilting his head, he tittered. “Not that I dislike this. No, I’m happy. Very, very… happy. Definitely. Definitely. But if you don’t like the thing that stands in front of you right now, if you don’t like the product, then just remember that this is your product. This was you. Because of you. You. You!” He was screaming at him, his kagune emerging from between his shoulder blades through his black cloak.

Kaneki’s knuckle cracked, and as his scaled weapons emerged from his own lower back, he launched himself from the balcony and onto Seidou. The scales thwacked his head and made him stagger backwards while Kaneki crouched before him and jumped easily back onto the balcony, squatted like a stoic animal perched on the railing with six red appendages writhing behind him.

“You shit,” spat Seidou, glowering upwards.

“I am not built for blame,” Kaneki informed him in dead tones.

Seidou blinked, a tiny frown on his blackened mouth. Then he giggled, wiping the blood from his forehead. “So did you get personally absolved of your actions? Did your guilt tear you apart, leading you here, or did you finally realize that it’s easier to live without it? Huh?”

“I am sick of guilt,” he said lowly. “I’ve done nothing. Those people that I can’t stand… I’m sick of sparing such trash. You’re laced with shame, Seidou… Even after my first death, I still maintained some form of morality.”

Morality?” he questioned, then released a bark of laughter. “You’ve been nothing but a hypocrite, even here!”

An eerie smile ghosted across Kaneki’s face. “You’re absolutely right. You told me that even back when you were worth respect.”

“‘Worth respect,’ huh? Bwahaha.”

His eyes cold, the corners of Kaneki’s lips curled further. “‘The only vice that cannot be forgiven is hypocrisy,’ Seidou… ‘The repentance of a hypocrite is itself hypocrisy.’ William Hazlitt.”

Seidou scoffed derisively. “Look at you, talking about vices… Honestly. You’re all about hypocrisy, preaching self-control and humanity when you yourself are nothing but a shell.” He raised a hand in the air as though speaking to the choir. “Hear, hear! You’re talking about yourself in that quote, aren’t you? Going on about your ideals, turning your back, and then coming back around only to apologize repetitively like a broken record—as if that earns your forgiveness.”

“Did you not just say you were just like me?” Kaneki answered coldly.

“But I’ve given up on apologies; there’s nothing to apologize for. I’ll never be sorry for what I’ve done.” The whites of his teeth were shining; the blood looked black in the moonlight.

“You were talking about my hand in your metamorphosis,” Kaneki continued. “Placing blame, aren’t you? Trying to make me feel guilty… What was it you just said? That it’s easier to live without guilt?” He stood up, balancing on that thin line known as the railing. Seidou was eyeing him with hollow bitterness. “What are you going on about? Pray tell. Aren’t you the one who told me that guilt and responsibility are two very different things? You’re wrong. You’re not free of guilt, no, you’re sodden with it. You wallow in it. You sip from it like wine; you bathe in it as though it were your only luxury. It’s responsibility that you’ve cast away from yourself. You’ve thrown it away and gone about your life for however long as though consequence no longer touches you.”

“It’s because I’ve accepted that I’m not human anymore,” he grinned. “Think, you’ve been struggling with it even now, but once you really, truly give into that thing inside you… Once you’ve actually become the monster, it’s really not so bad after all.”

“My words pass you by like flies,” Kaneki remarked coolly. “Not that it really matters. I don’t care anymore. I can’t afford to.” He looked down on him with something reminiscent of disgust. “You’re not worth my time. In this rotten world, ‘the strong’ has every right to devour ‘the weak.’ You longed to be stronger, didn’t you? Are you not satisfied?” Seidou’s eyes narrowed. “You were weak. So was I. But when we were in that battle where Tsuki had died, where Psyche had died, who were the ones fighting at their side? It wasn’t me. Who was the leader there but yourself? I’d be willing to hazard a guess that you still can’t take that responsibility. You couldn’t stand it then, and you won’t be able to now. You can’t even take a look at yourself. And that’s why… you’re still weak.” The gentle smile of a warm sadist curled Kaneki’s lips. “And that’s why I have every right to devour you.

“Fuck. You.”

Another pop from Kaneki’s knuckle signaled the activation of his ghoul eye, and Seidou sprang from the ground with a delighted yell, destroying the entire balcony with the force of his body. Kaneki jumped up as the balcony crumbled, and midair they met, suspended in the gentle breeze, caught in a single moment with Seidou’s hands cupping Kaneki’s throat, his face a mask of mirthful rage, his human eye rolling in its socket and ghoul eye shining in red temperament. His mouth was caught in a grimace-grin.

Kaneki’s face was one of indifference, eyes pools of the emptiest, clearest pond in the darkest night.

In the end, the safety of those around me may not be what I’m after at all, thought Kaneki as they clashed. Their strikes were equivalent to one another in strength. Was it really protecting others that I wanted? No… All I want is to be remembered. At this point, I can’t bring myself to care whether my memory is dyed with good feelings or bad. Something like just ending my life, curling up and dying… All that is a foolish end. It’s nothing I could stand for. But to throw myself into danger…

“Kaneki, Ken Kaneki, Kanekiii~” Seidou was chanting in wide-eyed delight as they fought in the air, shining scale versus shining feather in the night. “You have no idea how refreshing it is! How good this feels!”

I’ll find my ending.

“You’re wrong; you’re wrong, you know, you know it, yeah, ‘cause I’m gonna prove myself now! Now! Now, that I can face the one that doctor called his masterpiece! Right?

I want to die…

“So don’t hold back, Kaneki!”

…In a dramatic way.

Kaneki’s eyes flashed, his face contorting in sadistic glee as he slammed the heel of his foot into Seidou’s back, sending him into the concrete below. With a joyous growl, Seidou shot back up at him, grasping at his calf and laughing in that deranged way as he swung him around in the air and tossed him carelessly into the windows of a building beside them like a child playing catch with no one. Landing on the roof of the building Kaneki had been originally taking refuge in, Seidou released a small heh before bolting up into the fourth floor of the next building, where Kaneki was waiting for him. Upon leaping through the broken windows and landing gracefully with the wind beneath his crimson wings, he found Kaneki’s body in twisted posture, crouched in preparation to strike with his kagune twisting around his own body, beginning to harden. Beginning to bore into his own flesh. Beginning to become his armor.

“Ah, going kakuja?” Seidou asked in delight. “You need that? Bwahaha.” He stepped forward, folding his malleable weapon around himself as if he were a dark angel at rest. He allowed it to cocoon him messily, tearing into himself.

“You are fake,” Kaneki growled, “as I am.”

Seidou laughed with a hitch. “Don’t… get me wrong. It’s not like I can’t empathize with you… I get it. I totally get it. I know just how bitter the taste is when you’ve already died once.”

Kaneki looked at him, pausing. There was a moment of silence. “…‘You are not wrong, who deem That my days have been a dream; Yet if hope has flown away In a night, or in a day, In a vision, or in none, Is it therefore the less gone?’” He met eyes with Seidou, and for just a moment, they really looked at one another. “‘All that we see or seem Is but a dream within a dream.’ Isn’t that so?”

Seidou swayed on his feet. “A dream within a dream… yeah, something like that. That’s why… why nothing changed for me, right? Why all those things happened… why I did all that… Even though…?” He had brought his hands to his face, tottering backwards and bumping into the windowsill. “It doesn’t make SENSE!” He screamed, metamorphosing into the Owl, a grotesque cage forming around half of his face as Kaneki wore his half-smile, half-grimace as Centipede. The moment of clarity was over as soon as it had begun. With the shrieking of garbled words and distorted laughter, the two began to brawl.


Yato felt the rumbling all around him, hiding in one of the buildings in the surrounding area. He closed his glowing blue eyes, listening to their distorted outcries. His holy breath was haggard and uneven, and his left hand was clutching at the bite taken out of his shoulder by Seidou himself. His other arm was wrapped around his abdomen, which still seeped with some red from the wound dealt him by the new vessel to Kuroha… The slash given to him by that girl with blue hair was one they hadn’t had the chance to treat properly due to the fact that Seidou had been on their tail since that fight at the hospital. The past two battles had done in Nora too, having earned a nice gash on her head that bled into her right eye. Currently, she was nestled into his side, her eyes vaguely concerned.

Yato, realizing how screwed they were, uttered a curse.

“It’ll all be okay,” she whispered back brightly. “You and I still have each other, right, Yato? With them distracted, we can treat that slash over your chest, or get as far away from them as you like.”

I can’t teleport now…, he thought, grimacing a bit. My energy’s too low… and… I’m too injured. If I were to do that now, I’d have no control over where we’d end up, and I’d probably pass out. There’s no way I can risk that. Taking a deep breath, he released it shakily and opened his eyes. Nora was staring right at him with childish optimism, and he flinched. How the fuck does she do that—I swear, we could be in Hell, and she’d be just as bright and happy. It’s like she doesn’t know ‘fear.’

On cue, she cuddled closer to him. “I’m comfortable, being right here with you.”

He drew his lips into a thin line as the building shook, dust falling on them from the ceiling above. Not exactly the safest place to be nestled right now, Hiiro, he thought. “Maybe we should get a move on while they’re fighting,” he said to her quietly, and she nodded. He’d confronted every one of the groups, taking down three people on the way. That wasn’t a lot for a God of Calamity, but in retrospect, that was kind of the point of the game that it should be a challenge. Not three, he thought, picturing Ciel in his head. Four. He felt a tremor down his spine. He had to move the hand holding his shoulder to his mouth; he felt the need to choke. The bitter nausea mutated into fury. He saw red.

Calm down… Steadying his breathing, he opened his eyes, trying to maintain silence. He needed to stop breathing so unevenly if he didn’t want either of the half-ghouls to hear him… not that he thought that they had the capacity to notice right now.

“Yato… what is it?” she asked gently, tugging at the sleeve of his jersey.

He shook his head, opening his mouth to answer that they should leave just as the building lurched with a heavy impact that Yato determined was perhaps a few stories above them. He stared upwards. They’re in this building now. Gritting his teeth, he held his breath, holding his hand out to Nora to signal her to be as quiet as possible. There was a heavy crash nearby as one of them plummeted through floor after floor, they felt the vibrations of the person’s contact with the floor they were on. He could hear one of them – the thing was just in the next room over; he could hear the voice echoing to reach his ears with eerie clarity: “…A… a….? H…ow? How? I… I… Already, I…”

They’re regaining a sense of themselves, Yato thought, freezing in place. Which means that they could notice me. “Prepare to fight,” Yato breathed to Nora, and she nodded. The god recognized this voice to be Seidou’s – he couldn’t tell only by sound whether it was he who had sent Kaneki through a few stories, or the other way around. Whatever the case, now Seidou was on the same floor as Yato, and that was definitely not the situation Yato wanted to deal with right now.

(How did they end up this way?)

He shook his head slightly. Remember, Yato? You don’t care now.

“Im…possible… It’s impossible,” his voice was broken, and the god could sense the feeling of trepidation that dripped from his words. He couldn’t tell what it was he was so uneasy about, though. Oddly, Yato got the feeling that it wasn’t Kaneki he was worried about. “Impossible… No… no, no, no… no, I—I’ve killed you already, so go on and die!” Yato stiffened as there was a crash – sounded like Seidou had broken something made of glass. Out of his peripheral vision, the god could see that he’d broken a windowed wall and had thus made his way into the room down the hallway at Yato’s far right. From where he sat, he could just make out the half-ghoul’s tormented profile, staggering around blindly, making choked noises. Yato knew that Kaneki wasn’t gone – in fact, he was still a few stories up, his spirit energy smoothing out to ice rather than unpredictable static.

If Seidou catches sight of me now, I’ll have to run or fight, he thought, clenching his hands into fists. Nora held onto him, settled into his left side.

“I can’t go back, won’t go back, it’s gone, no more, don’t think about it, don’t think about it,” said Seidou, swaying on his feet as he wobbled, hands to his face, fingers beginning to dig into his eye sockets. “It’s dead, they’re dead, I’m dead, don’t think, don’t think—” He halted; something had drawn his attention. He was frozen; he seemed to be struggling to pinpoint the purpose of his pause. It was then he turned, his single focused eye glowing red as he looked straight at Yato. “…Oh…” He gradually lit up at the sight of the god.

Hiki,” Yato bit out, and Nora became his sword in a flash as Yato sprang into fighting position.

He brought her in front of him in preparation for a sudden attack, but Seidou only stepped forward, one step at a time, very slow. Blood was running down his face; he looked like he could be from a horror movie—not that he didn’t already. “How lovely,” he commented, tilting his head.

“What happened, there? Kaneki beat you?” Yato questioned, mouth twitching.

“Kh… Ka, neki? Oh, right. Kaneki. Kaneki, is?” He blinked, staring upwards like a small child gazing at a butterfly in wonder. “Mm. Forgot. No, didn’t beat me. Beat me? Bwahaha. No, no, no, no, no. We just, where were we? What?”

“You were talking about proving yourself to a half-ghoul who’s better than you?” With these wounds, the sharpest thing I have is my tongue.

Seidou’s eyes swiveled to look at him. “…Ah?”

“You’ve changed. Who were you? Did he ever exist?” Yato began sliding one of his feet further behind him, readying himself to bolt away.

“Who, were you?” Seidou answered, his tone darkening further than its perpetual menacing tone.

“Heh…” The god smirked coldly, taking a slight shift backwards. “I was a God of Calamity, just the same.”

“Calamity,” Seidou repeated, then laughed oddly. “Like, tragedy. That makes you a tragedy, right? Right?”

“I create it,” he answered easily.

“Right, right, right… Well… You… are lathered in, Fear—o God of Calamity. Why’s that?”

Yato took another step back, brandishing his sword in all defensiveness. “I fear not death. I’m the God of Depravity; I take life away.”

“I see, I see. Then why are you backing up?”

He eyed Yato, and the god froze.

“If not death, then what? What is it? Aaa, you’re a god; it’s more than that, isn’t it?” The clarity returning to Seidou’s visage somehow made him more frightening than the disjointed mania. “We did get to know each other once, even if maybe those people don’t exist anymore, if they ever did.” Blue eyes narrowing further, Yato backed up a bit more. Seidou stopped walking in his slow, halting way. “But let me tell you, I’ve learned something on the way through Hell. If you become what you’re afraid of, you’re not scared anymore. That’s probably why you’re killing people—because you’re scared someone else close to you might die again. Heeheehee… wouldn’t that be a shame?” He beamed ghoulishly at him. “Maybe, just maybe, you’ve done away with that fear, and that’s a success. Congratulations. Really. But seeing as you’re still scared to die, I think I want to help you out, Yato. I’ll make sure to personally ensure that there’s nothing left of you. I’ll devour everything, and it’ll be like you never existed. How’s that?”

Yato felt Nora vibrating in displeasure, and he held tighter to the hilt, his jaw tight.

“It’s okay, Yato. I’m only trying to help you.” He bolted forward without warning, clashing with Nora with his ghostly face centimeters away from Yato’s.

He’s much slower than he was before, thought Yato with some relief. “You’ll have to catch me, first!” the god shouted in turn, using all his force to push the half-ghoul away just enough to begin to run. Delighted with this new game of tag, Seidou followed right after him.


“…Ah,” Kaneki remarked eventually, after having lain on the floor with his hands over his ears for what seemed like a long time. Slowly, he sat up, watching Seidou chase after the god from the window nearby. Seidou’s injury from Yato earlier still isn’t healed at all, even though it’s obvious he’s been eating enough. He looked down at himself, and the injuries now dealt him by Seidou. And I don’t feel that my regeneration is nearly as fast as it was in the beginning of this game, food or no food. “…Our healing is stunted even more now, huh?”

He looked up at the moon hanging in the sky, still low; the sun still cast a gentle glow on the western horizon, if you could see it. He almost thought of Seidou, and the connection they might have had if they only took a moment to feel—but then his thoughts drifted apart like dissolving mist in the night. He was left with only darkness.

 

Chapter 55: Just a Name

Chapter Text

 

As the sun departed to make way for the moon, the five remaining members of the initial alliance of Groups 1 and 2 made themselves as comfortable as they could be with six missing members, two of which were deceased. Not to mention, much to the discomfort of Shintaro and Shirazu, they were still nearby a graveyard.

After some debate, Shintaro had tried to patch up Light from his odd injuries. Even though the first conclusion was that Roppi had snapped on him, it was obvious by the level and style of injury that it was likely Kaneki who was the culprit, not Roppi. Shirazu pointed out that Light had to have done something pretty nasty for Kaneki to have done something so heinous, but Akira pointed out that he could just be unstable due to the loss of Touka and Saiko both. After a pause, she added quietly that according to her intuition, Light wasn’t exactly worth trusting anyway.

Light only proved her right, spitting acidic threats of death, mostly towards Kaneki and Roppi, respectively. “If I had my notebook, they’d be dead. I mean it!”

“Notebook?” asked Shirazu, glancing at Shintaro, who only shrugged.

“Beats me,” Shintaro answered, and Shirou scratched at his head, tilting it in wonder.

You don’t know who I am,” Light would growl, and Shirazu would pipe up, “Light Yagami,” much to Light’s annoyance.

“Leave him be,” Akira would say, and Shintaro, Shirazu, and Shirou would all look at her. “Don’t listen to his nonsense. Unless he poses a real threat, there’s no reason to listen to him.”

Don’t disregard me,” Light spat. “I am much more than you. An investigator? A regular student? And a drop-out? I am a god!

“Maybe in your realm,” Shirou offered. “But we’re… um… not there.”

“Or in his head,” grumbled Shirazu, and Shintaro coughed to hide a nervous laugh. “Seriously, though, I’m kinda scared… Light was a totally chill guy; what happened? I mean, maybe it’s just ‘cause he’s kinda screwed with those injuries, but… I still don’t know why Kane-kun would…”

“Keep in mind that Kaneki is considered SS Rank ghoul,” Akira pointed out hollowly.

Shirazu bowed his head. “…Well, yeah, I know, but…” They sat on the stone benches, eating parcels of food they’d found in the fridges and pantries of the houses surrounding them. Shirazu was sitting next Shintaro on one, with Shirou sitting beside Light, who was settled on the ground, incapacitated with Shirou keeping a good eye on him. Akira sat on her own bench, facing everyone else with perfect posture and shrouded eyes.

Shintaro looked at Light, only to look quickly away when Light’s fiery eyes took notice of him.

“H…hey, Mado-san,” said Shirazu, looking over at her with pained orange eyes. “Can I, um, talk to you for a bit? Please?”

She gestured to her bench, sliding over. “Akira is fine. You may.”

“Uh—” Awkwardly looking around, Shirazu stood before uncomfortably walking over to her, lowering his voice as he asked her, “Is this really fine? I mean… I just wanna… ask a few things… if that’s… um…”

“Sit,” she said bluntly, and he did so obediently. “If we speak quietly, they won’t hear us, and it seems that Shirou knows to start polite conversation to cover us.” She closed her eyes. “He’s a very tactful boy.”

“Yeah… pretty cool…”

“What was it you wanted to know?”

“Oh—uh…” Shirazu shifted uneasily; Akira was someone that he really super respected… He didn’t wanna bother her or anything. “Well… there’s something that—Saiko mentioned before… um…”

“It’s alright. What was it?” Her tone was to-the-point, though he could hear that hint of sympathy there.

“Saiko… she had talked about missing my hair when she first saw me, which totally doesn’t make sense… But… when she jumped in front and… and struck Yato… and she…” He trailed off, then shook his head. “She said she didn’t want to see me ‘die again’… Do you…? Er, well, do I even wanna know? Ugh…” He rubbed at the back of his orange-haired head.

“Shirazu.”

Nervous, he looked at her. Akira was gazing at him with her violet eyes, filled with distant warmth. “…Yeah?”

“From when I’m from, you’re just as you are now. If there’s something she was referring to, I don’t know what it is. If anything… there’s a possibility that she was a bit farther ahead than myself.”

“…Ah…” He looked away and to the ground again. “Sorry, I just… I dunno…” He felt her hand at his shoulder, and he almost flinched. He was glad he didn’t.

“Be it as an officer or in these games, we are to lose our fellow teammates. It’s how things are… unfortunately.”

“And you—lost Seidou, didn’t you? Before?” He looked at her, at her inscrutable expression. “I—sorry…”

“No, you’re not wrong. I’ve lost many subordinates, many superiors. Takizawa was one of them.”

“Just—what happened?” His voice broke. For once, he didn’t care that it had broken in front of the miraculous Akira Mado. “I told Seidou to go for it, man… I coulda stopped him, and I…!” He dropped his face to his hands. “Oh, man, I fucked up… I fucked up so bad… And now Seidou’s gone, and Kaneki’s gone, and Saiko… Oh, shit…” He rested his elbows on his legs, hunching forward. “I just—really want them back…”

Akira gazed at him, lowering her hand from his shoulder and putting it back in her lap. She closed her eyes. “…Me too, Shirazu.”

As Shirazu went over to Akira, as said by the new temporary leader of the groups present, Shirou began to tentatively talk. “Say, Light should probably eat dinner too, right?” he asked Shintaro, and Shintaro blinked at him as though he couldn’t comprehend his words. “You hungry, Light? I know you said no earlier, but you should probably eat something…”

“No.” Light’s tone was clipped. Disdainful.

“Hm… Even something small?”

“No,” he repeated, looking even more bothered.

I wonder if Roppi got him with the Harrowing Blade, Shintaro thought to himself, sighing slightly as he watched their interaction. And then… that would make this the worst part of Light? That blade… it ‘draws out the worst in someone,’ right? Does it bring out the worst—or create it? He drew his lips into a thin line. And… what happened to Kaneki…?

The only thing they’d been able to get out of Light was that Roppi had done something right terrible to both himself and Kaneki, and had been the one to make Kaneki do what he did. Shirazu didn’t buy it, and Akira said that they’d just have to wait for all sides of the story. From there Light had refused to give anything further out of indignation. Shirou was the one that solidified the idea that they should take care of Light as though there were no suspicions… There was no reason for them not to help him physically, and definitely not leave him behind.

“I think that you should still have something to drink,” said Shirou to Light, picking up a can of iced tea from his bench and holding it below to where Light was sitting with his back to the stone. He even opened it for him, seeing as the injured had only one hand.

Light, glowering at the can, knocked it from Shirou’s grasp and to the ground, leaving to slowly spill onto the grass and dirt.

“Er… you could have just said ‘no’…” Shirou scratched at his temple, then went to pick it up.

“You just don’t get it… None of you get it… No one could get it… no… maybe no one gets it at all!” His expression twisted in anguish. “Something like the ideal world…”

“Everyone’s ideal is different, though, isn’t it?” inquired Shirou, sitting back down in his place.

Shut up. You’re not someone who could get it; no… There are people you need to get rid of.”

“Is this about that killer you’d mentioned earlier?” Shirou frowned, leaning with one palm against the stone. “If it is, I’m sorry… We’ll just have to agree to disagree.”

“Killing people with heart attacks, right?” asked Shintaro, sounding timid. “Sounds really sci-fi.”

“Says the one whose friend is an android,” Light answered with narrowed eyes, and Shintaro blinked.

“…You have a point,” he conceded, and sighed heavily.

“This is why,” uttered Light, “I’m the only one, the only one I can trust…” He closed his burning eyes.

“Trust with what?” asked Shirou.

If this is the work of the Harrowing Blade, I’ve gotta say its effects make it hard to converse with the victim, thought Shintaro dully. “He’s talking about the fact that he’s the one that killed all those criminals. He’s just offended that we don’t agree with him.”

“Oh, but I knew that,” Shirou frowned. “He made it kinda obvious… if only because it’s pretty evident when all this is so out-of-context.”

“Yeah, him and the detective would have had to be main factors of his realm in order for them specifically to be here… you know?” asked Shintaro. “Not that that logic makes sense for me—I don’t know why I got brought here.”

“And both of you are too foolish to grasp the ideal world I can see pictured in my head,” said Light, and his eyebrow twitched. “You have no idea… exactly what place I hold in my world. With my work, I’ve brought the world’s crime rate down by 70%. I am hope, I am order, I am justice… Humans… should have the right to happiness, right? Everyone’s rights, opportunities… the like… they’re snuffed out by that handful of rotten people! I know that killing is a crime, but someone had to do it! Right? Right?” His eyes were wide, frantic. Manic. Filled with the corrupt fire that was once a pure dream.

“R…rotten people, huh…?” Shintaro gave him a pained look. “Like who?”

Light’s eyes narrowed.

“Because I know that Roppi doesn’t deserve to die. That detective… didn’t deserve to die, either. Honestly, if Roppi’s right about anything, it’s that people are kinda disgusting by nature. But there are good parts, too. If someone were to cut out all the bad people in the world, find true peace, wouldn’t it just wipe out the entire human race?”

“That wish…” Shirou said, voice dropping and eyes becoming shadowed, “…that ideal… Somehow, I feel that it’s impossible.” His eyes held memories of endless conflagration, of red, of carnage and destruction. “Something like that leads you down the path of Armageddon. Maybe killing people like that… You may even find that crime never really ends. There is nothing to the core of the world, of humanity… nothing but more rot. Maybe you’ll come to hate the world itself, and then you’ll just end up killing everyone… no, worse… you’ll keep going, with the shackles of your dream holding you to your fate, only to come to loathe your own dream.” Shirou closed his eyes, and Light stared at him, his brow furrowed.

“I’ll never give up,” Light bit out. “I know the absolute truth. I knew from the beginning I was sacrificing myself, and in that, I’ll create a new world.”

Shirou opened his eyes. “I admire that,” he smiled. “I don’t think you’re wrong to believe in your dream. Yeah… your dream is more than worth defending. Everyone’s ideal is different, I told you that. Like, I know that maybe nobody can save everyone… but I want to give my all to try and do just that.” A sort of earnest fire warmed his eyes. “And even if I can’t, then I’ll be happy just having tried. To be able to save anyone… even one person – that should be fulfilling on its own.”

Light clicked his tongue. “Overly earnest people with a strong sense of justice like you always fall; they’re made into fools, again and again! And it’s because of this dirty system! It’s because of the rotten people!” His eyes flashed. “Seidou—he’s the perfect example! Perfect! Overly earnest people with a strong sense of justice—and look at what happened to him! Look! It’s because of this cruel, rotten world! He fell victim to it, and became rotten himself. Isn’t that the truth? Isn’t it?”

“It is,” Akira broke in, walking back over with Shirazu. “Now take control of yourself, Light. You’ll reopen your wounds if you keep going on like this.”

“I won’t,” he spat. “I can’t die here.”

“Neither could that other dude, the detective, right?” asked Shirazu, tentative.

“That bastard had it coming to him!” Light exclaimed.

“Sheesh, no getting through to him, is there?” mumbled Shirazu, scratching at his scalp.

Shirou shrugged. “Well, like I said, I’m still gonna try to save everyone. Light, I don’t mind even if I’m made into a fool. No, I already know that’s how it’ll end. But my dream is of justice, too, so I won’t give up on it.” He smiled a lopsided smile.

Something seemed to stir in Light … but then it was extinguished, and he only scoffed.

“Enough of that,” said Akira, tone official. “Now, we prepare for rest.”

The stars were shining bright by the time the five of them were prepared for bed – Shirou was the first on watch. They chose a nearby house to take refuge in for the night, all agreeing not to use any electronics. (“To think,” mumbled Shintaro, “I’ve gone this long without technology. I’m such a pro…”) Light was moved with much care – Shirou helped him to his feet along with Shirazu despite Light’s bitter protests. (“Where’s your self-control?” Shirazu had grunted as he got elbowed in the side.) Eventually they let him walk on his own, even though he was walking with a heavy limp. Seemed his lower right leg had been pierced straight through. After only a few steps Shirou was at his side again, insistent about helping him into the house and to the couch where he could rest.

There were two bedrooms – Akira and Shirazu each got one, while Shintaro was put with Light due to the fact he was a light sleeper himself, and would therefore hear him if he tried anything. (“I-I don’t know if I like that idea,” Shintaro had begun to protest, but Akira had only continued with her layout of the night shifts.)

Shirazu was relieved once he went into the room that he could call his own for the night. He was on third shift, so he’d really just have to get up super early the next morning. In retrospect, he preferred first shift just because it was easiest for him. The last shift wasn’t so bad, though. It was the middle shift that sucked.

Heaving a heavy sigh, he flopped onto the bed, kicking off his black dress shoes, all scuffed and dirty. Stretching his arms upwards, he rested his head on his hands as he leaned back onto the pillows waiting to cradle his cranium. He stared up at the ceiling, introspective and silent. His playful demeanor was deadened in isolation. He saw Saiko bleeding in his arms. He saw Psyche, decapitated. He saw Delic, face contorted in pain as he gave his last fighting breath. He saw Tsuki and Shizuo, with red blotting their chests. He saw Yukine, halved neatly. The ceiling was his screen, and his mind was the projector. He decided he didn’t like the movie, and turned onto his side, curling up and closing his eyes. “Saiko… what did you mean…?” Shirazu brought his hands from the back of his head to his face. “Sassan… Kane-kun, where did you go?

As he closed his eyes, he tried to allow sleep to take him. All he could hear, echoing on forever in his head, were the tortured screams of Seidou. Eventually the night dragged him into fitful slumber.

Downstairs, Light sat, troubled, on his couch, which was tonight’s resting place for him. Something was wrong with him; his head was still spinning, and he felt like any tact was out of his hands. His hands (pardon me, my singular hand, he thought bitterly) were buzzing with unwanted energy. Disgust coursed through him, and everyone around him had become but shadows, fake and faceless. They were liars, this world was filled with liars and everyone was—

What is wrong with me? He bit his tongue, closing his eyes. It was frustrating – he’d lost all sense of himself, and now he was caught in a whirlwind of paranoia and impulsivity; anger and arrogance. What is wrong with me? Why can’t I calm down?

Was it because of being as injured as he was? Or—

That damned blade Roppi used; what the fuck was that? That little bastard.

Why was that his first conclusion? Where was his logic? This occurred to him fleetingly – he couldn’t bring himself to care. No… as much as he tried to muster up any kind of feeling, all he found was empty nothingness. It was vaguely frightening. The more he tried to grasp onto something, anything, the further he plummeted into the dark. I’m Light, I don’t belong in the dark…

He couldn’t stifle his terror. He felt a scream rising in his throat, but he didn’t even know where it came from. Most terrible was that—that—

I can’t even trust me. His chest seized at the thought. If I can’t even trust myself, then who can I…?

His breathing was becoming shallow and frantic. Shintaro looked over to him from his loveseat – his own bed. The shut-in was already curled up under a blanket, wishing he was in a more comfortable place than this but too exhausted from the all-nighter he pulled last night to care too terribly much. “Calm down already,” Shintaro uttered, and closed his eyes.

I can’t! I can’t! “How?” His voice was taut.

“I dunno, breathing exercises or something.”

“That’s ridiculous,” he hissed, and Shintaro shrugged before snuggling further under his blanket. “Don’t just ignore me.” What the hell do I sound like right now?

“Well, what am I supposed to do?” Shintaro frowned. “Obviously you don’t want help. I don’t want to deal with pointless griping. I get it. You’re injured.”

“It’s not—that.”

“Then talk about it, or something,” Shintaro grumbled, raising his head and worming his way to the arm of his small ‘bed,’ resting his head on the decorative pillow so that he could better look at Light. “What do you want?”

“I don’t know—something’s not right and—I hate it. Oh, if this is because of that—little—ahh… I’d kill him. I’d get rid of him so quick.” He writhed in his seat as he tried to contain himself. Gritting his teeth, he tried to fight the fire, only to be swept up further in his frustration. He released an angry growl.

Shintaro closed his eyes. “Did you see… a red knife, or anything like that?”

Light’s breathing stopped. Red blade, and black handle? Something of that sort…

“Seems like it.” Shintaro breathed a sigh, and opened his grey eyes again. “Look, did he cut you with that thing?”

It was easily understood that ‘he’ meant ‘Roppi.’

“Yes.” A new urgency had entered Light’s tone.

“Then he’s drawn out the worst of you. I feel like you at least deserve to know that, but honestly… that means this is still all you, I guess, so… I dunno.”

“He what?What does that mean? Why can’t I think clearly? “This is not me; this is not okay, I swear, I’ll—!”

“I know he messed up. He knows too. He intends to fix it… Or at least, he’ll try,” he admitted, some distress showing on his tired face.

“That delinquent is expected to help me?” He ground his teeth together. Was that right, saying that? No! Damn it, Light, calm down! “No. I know that won’t work. If that’s so, how do you know that? Fix it. Fix it.

“Don’t yell, people are trying to sleep,” Shintaro groaned. “I kinda wanna be one of them… Uh… I’m kind of an insomniac anyway, so whatever. But. I can’t fix it, okay? I can’t. I don’t know how.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know how?” He spoke through bared teeth.

“I mean I don’t know how,” Shintaro answered simply.

Light fought to steady his breathing. Calm down. Calm down. Worst part of you? Draw out the worst? What can you do with that? Can you fix it? What can you do?

Manipulation, lying—that’s bad. The worst? Maybe; just maybe, if I can spin this the right way… The worst way… He felt something cold spreading from his chest, trickling from his center to his appendages, cooling his mind and bringing him the feeling of the night. He felt nothing at all. This isn’t… uncomfortable, he thought coolly, and closed his eyes. Light could think in vivid clarity now. His breathing deepened and steadied itself. He presented his options to himself in icy precision. I’ve just exposed myself ridiculously… on many levels. The others in this group don’t seem to care too much about the fact that ‘I am Kira,’ no, because they are from different worlds anyway… There’s no point in worrying about that. That’s not what I should be worried about right now at all, in fact… Remember, the only person who’d want to know about that is L himself, and he’s already dead. Yes… the most important danger right now is the other players with ill intent… and Roppi, with that knife. Kaneki… with his… weapons. He subconsciously reached to hold his opposite arm, only to grasp at nothing. He clicked his tongue and looked down at himself. My injuries won’t kill me in the immediate future, but the wound in my gut has the potential to get me killed if I’m not careful. My stomach could rupture, or I could just reopen the wound. I could have easily died of blood loss if Shintaro hadn’t tried to patch me up… as messily as he did. Because of these, I’m definitely handicapped, and therefore expendable. It’ll be difficult for me to even dodge with only one good leg… And Kaneki took my dominant arm…

Pausing, Light’s eyes flickered. He took my dominant arm, he thought again, and looked at his remaining left arm. At his wrist, and at the watch that still remained there, telling time just as it did in his own realm. The game masters… would they let this slip? His mouth twitched, eyes alight with sadistic excitement. If he was right… inside his watch was a small scrap of the Death Note: the ‘murder weapon’ that he used to cast his judgment. Anyone whose full name was written on that scrap would die, so long as he knew their face. Names and faces, right, Seidou? he thought delightedly, then fought to calm himself. I only have one arm, so this will be difficult. If I could get help… if I play this right… yes…

“That’s a shame,” he murmured, gazing off into nowhere. Shintaro stirred slightly. “So that’s what Roppi did… huh? Why would he have something so dangerous?”

“I have no clue,” Shintaro mumbled dismissively.

“Well.” He closed his eyes. “I’ve solved the puzzle anyway.”

“Yeah?”

“Think of it from an outside perspective, Shintaro-kun,” Light smiled, his eyes dancing with manipulative pleasure. “If the worst part of me is that to myself, what is it to others? To my enemies? Wouldn’t it be ironically me at my best?”

Shintaro blinked blearily at him, clearing his eyes. “Ah… Does that kind of loophole seriously work?”

“Why shouldn’t it? I’m fine now,” he lied.

“Well, crap!” Shintaro sat up abruptly. “I’ve gotta let Roppi know, then! Maybe it’ll help him out with Kaneki!”

“My thoughts exactly,” Light nodded. “I want to help… but…”

“You’re kinda injured,” Shintaro pointed out, rubbing at his messy black hair with one hand and gripping the blanket that he’d been under moments before with the other.

“I have to say,” said the brown-haired one, pinching the bridge of his nose with his only hand, “…with what I went through, there, because of that knife… I can’t let that happen to anyone else. Especially not Kaneki. I very much liked him, you know, and then…” He frowned a bit before spreading his arms in presentation of his injuries. “At this point, the only thing I feel is incredible restlessness. If you could, would you mind just chatting with me for a bit?”

“Saying something like solving the Harrowing Blade’s properties is something that’s got me up anyway,” Shintaro answered, rubbing at one of his eyes.

“Thank you… I’ve come to find that it helps for me to write things down… Ah, maybe the pen I’ve got can be used for something after all,” he remarked, and laughed lightly. “I wonder if there’s paper anywhere in this house…”

“There might be some in the desk, actually,” said Shintaro, looking over to said desk. He looked down at his own feet, then back to the desk. Then to Light. Then at Light’s injured leg.

“…Ah…,” Light began.

“Right,” said the other, slowly getting to his feet. “Got it,” he grumbled, going over to the roll-top desk set up in the corner of the living room. “Uh…” He searched the desk and pulled out a few blank pages before bringing them over and setting them on the coffee table in front of Light.

“Thank you,” said Light politely, setting his pen on the table and slowly pulling the table towards himself with his one arm. It was one of those heavy oval ones without any shelves—just solid table, all the way from the platform itself to the ground.

“Oh, uh—” Shintaro rounded the slab. “Let me do it.” He struggled to push it, and as he strained himself, Light found himself raising his eyebrows. With Shintaro’s eyes screwed shut, he began pulling with his one arm again, bringing it forward with far more ease. “Ah! I got it!” Shintaro cried in relief, and Light coughed slightly.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Uh-huh…” He laughed sheepishly.

“If you would, could you maybe… help me out with a chart I want to make?” he inquired of Shintaro, who blinked blankly at him. “I want to map out who’s on the game field,” Light explained. “And you said you had a photographic memory, right?”

The red-jerseyed boy stiffened. “Uh, yeah.”

“That’s perfect!” Light smiled at him. “Could you help me, then? I know in Group 1 there is me; Light Yagami.” He wrote his entire name on the paper up top under the number one. “Then, Shirou Emiya, and Ken Kaneki. I won’t put Ken Kaneki in this section because he’s on his own right now. I’ll put him… over here.” On the other side of the page, he etched in ‘Ken Kaneki.’ “I wonder how he spells his name…”

“I’ve never seen him do it,” Shintaro shrugged. “But I’m Shintaro Kisaragi, Group 2… Ginshi Shirazu is in Group 1 too, not my group… Say, are you left-handed?” Shintaro asked eventually, and Light chuckled.

“No, but luckily, I’m mostly ambidextrous.”

“Yeah, your writing looks just fine,” commented Shintaro. “Um… Yeah, Akira Mado is in Group 2 now with me, I guess. Like… Konoha, or, um… Seidou…”

“Seidou Takizawa, right?”

“…Yeah…” That far-off look again. “But I guess you want him apart too, right?”

“Yes, please… What is Group 3 like?”

Shintaro blinked. “I haven’t seen much of Group 3 since the beginning. I don’t even know who’s still alive, honestly…”

“That’s alright… what about Group 4?”

“Group 4 has Shinichi Izumi in it, to start,” said Shintaro. “He saved us before… he’s a good guy. Ciel Phantomhive—I don’t know about him, but last I checked they were the only ones left.”

“European name?” asked Light, and Shintaro nodded.

“He’s from England. Then Group 5… I don’t know what’s happening there,” Shintaro frowned. “Apparently Shirou knows someone there, and so does Kaneki, so…” He shrugged. “I can see them in my head, but I don’t know their names at all. Yato… he’s a god that apparently is on his own now.” He pointed at the page, directing Yato’s name to be apart from everyone. “It’s just… Yato. Don’t ask how to spell it; he’s a god I’ve never heard of before.”

“Me neither,” Light agreed, but wrote ‘Yato’ in hiragana anyway.

“Group 6 has some new members, though, like… there’s this guy named Twelve. Just, Twelve. Some kind of terrorist, or something.” Shintaro shuddered. “I can’t tell whether he’s good or bad. There’s Izaya Orihara… We had an alliance with him and Yato once, but Izaya’s kinda… I don’t know.” He shook his head.

Light smiled a bit as he wrote down Izaya’s name. Alright… I’ve got him saying all of their full names without even thinking about it.

“Group 6… has… three other members…” His eyes focused on something only he could see, his lips drawn thin. “…Celty, a rider in black… Akise, a kid with grey hair… And… Suzuya…?” He closed his eyes. “Someone else, said, Suzuya…. Suzuya… Juuzou Suzuya, that’s it. Juuzou Suzuya is his name—huh. That means Group 5 has Rin Tohsaka, Hideyoshi Nagachika… and I can’t tell the third. He’s either named Roy Mustang or Senji Kiyomasa, under that presumption.” He came back to reality and looked at Light. “…Does that help?” he asked worriedly.

Light stared at him, then laughed good-naturedly. Shintaro thought the laugh sounded a little bit creepy, but didn’t comment. “Yes, yes… thank you! I’m sure this will be helpful to the others, too!”

“Yeah… you’re right,” Shintaro agreed, shifting a bit.

“And then over here, there’s Seidou Takizawa and Ken Kaneki… both separate. Here, there’s…”

“Konoha, and Roppi.”

His eyebrow twitched. “Is Roppi his full name?”

“Well, yeah… it’s what he prefers, anyway,” Shintaro shrugged. “He’s an alter-self of Izaya, or something… so his given name is actually ‘Izaya.’ His surname is actually Hachimenroppi.”

“What kanji does he use?” Light asked curiously. “I mean, I myself have a weird name, so I don’t find it too strange at all. Even though my name is ‘Light,’ the given name itself is spelled as ‘Tsuki.’”

Shintaro stared at him. “…Tsuki,” he repeated.

“Yes… The kanji for ‘moon,’ you know? Then ‘Yagami’ spells out ‘Night God.’ I know it’s rather strange…”

“Mm…” Shintaro nodded. “For me, it’s ‘Kisaragi’ as in ‘February’…” He paused, eyeing Light. “Well, I don’t really know how to spell out Roppi’s name, but I guess it doesn’t really matter, right? I mean…” He held up a finger, looking to the ceiling. “ ‘Hachi,’ that’s ‘eight.’ ‘Men,’ that was the kanji for ‘face.’ I’ve heard it referenced – eight faces… The given name ‘Izaya,’ on the other hand, I could only guess.”

“I see…” If I had my notebook, I could have him write down and kill everyone so easily, it’s ridiculous. “Ah, this is bothering me,” he said, setting down the pen and twisting his wrist back and forth. “Would you mind just taking my watch off for me? I’ll put it in my pocket instead.” Light felt anticipation rising in him. Calm down, there’s still the possibility that there’s nothing in that watch…

“Oh—sure.” He fiddled with the watch’s clasps and took it off of Light’s wrist, handing it to his only hand.

“Thank you, Shintaro-kun,” Light said warmly, and shifted so that he could pocket the gadget. “If you could just write down… ah?” Light watched as Shintaro picked up the pen and put it in his own pocket, leaning back on the couch. “…What are you doing?”

“…I bet you were the same way I was in school,” Shintaro remarked quietly, and Light could only continue staring.

What does that have to do with right now? Ah, calm down, Light, he’s just making conversation.

“I’ve mentioned that I’m a dropout; a shut-in. But… ah.” Shintaro’s grey eyes dulled. “You seemed like a prodigy the moment I saw you. You just have a way about you that I recognized. You are, aren’t you?”

“I… suppose so,” Light agreed, returning to gentle conversation while wondering under his warm expression what the hell Shintaro was doing.

“Always a perfect score, am I right? Probably number one in the school… the district…”

“…The country, in fact,” Light admitted, touching his chin to contain his pride.

“Exactly.” Shintaro sighed. “How long did it take for you to get bored?”

Light blinked, taken aback. The way it all begun for him… a boredom that staunched his motivation; colored the world grey. ‘This is world is rotten.’

“Eventually, there’s no real point to anything. You look at the world and see it ‘for what it really is.’ Everything goes monochrome, and there’s nothing you can really do. Accomplishments mean nothing; it’s always the same. No matter who’s proud of you, it doesn’t matter to you because you don’t feel like you’ve done anything different. You don’t even have to try, right? Because even if you don’t put effort in, you’re ‘better’ than everyone else. You live listlessly. There’s nothing but emptiness. Ice. And… grey. Numbness. You know what I’m talking about, don’t you?”

Light drew his lips together, unable to respond.

“…I was one of those students, too. Maybe you’re a little different. Looks like you know how to smile and pretend. Looks like you know how to put your effort in anyway, despite everything. Both of those were things I never learned how to do. I became nothing but a fading light… a heart who only wished to disappear. You, you set yourself on fire while I flickered and petered and wished to be finally put out.” He paused. “I’m… getting all emotional and crap—sorry.” He crossed his arms. “But I’m not giving that pen back, no matter what you say. Because I’m not going to fade away, and there’s no way I’m going to let you snuff out anyone I consider a ‘friend,’ after coming this far…” He pointed to the page. “You have no reason to kill most of them, so even if that pen was the way you killed people, they shouldn’t die. You wouldn’t write all those names… your own name, even, to kill everyone. It doesn’t work like that. You’d said earlier that the killer killing criminals needed only a name and a face. All the talk about kanji… well.” He closed his eyes. “And maybe I’m wrong about all this, and you’re really just curious. Maybe I’m just being rude, taking your pen and saying all these things about you. Maybe it’s all just a grave misinterpretation. But, to be clear…” He looked to the brown-haired one with apologetic grey eyes. “…I’m about 98% certain.”

Light’s blood ran cold. He heard the echoes of the detective that now lay dead on the playing field. Why didn’t I factor Shintaro himself into this? Light scolded himself. Underestimation? The word ‘overconfidence’ entered his consciousness, and he wondered if such a slip had to do with that blade. Surely so.

He began to laugh, and Shintaro looked at him tiredly. “Ah, it’s okay, Shintaro-kun. You can think what you want of me… At the very least, I can know the truth. Even if I were going to do that, what is there to say? What would you do?”

“Keep the pen,” Shintaro shrugged. “Seeing as this is your ‘weapon’… I’d have to suppose that either this is your murder weapon, or your ‘judgment’ is cast by writing. It’s an easy answer. Either way, I’m keeping it. Even if I’m wrong, then you can go on without your pen. It doesn’t inconvenience you to the point of harm… or anything like that. It’s just a pen.” He shrugged, then sighed. “I’m a light sleeper, and it’s in my pants pocket – you won’t be able to get it back while I’m asleep. So there. I’m done being logical; I hate that.” Getting to his feet, he grudgingly went back over to his loveseat. As he sat, he looked at Light with furrowed brow and concerned eyes. “But… I have to wonder… Is this the work of the Harrowing Blade, or would you have done that sort of thing to Roppi anyway? I… can only hope that it’s only because that blade took away your self-control… I can only hope you lied when you said that you fixed its effects. Can you say that it wasn’t of your own will? That you lied about having solved the puzzle? Or are you just that desensitized to be able to kill someone like Roppi, who still has a chance of being saved… who’s come so far, without even batting an eye? Because to say Roppi should die…” He paused, then shook his head. “Well? Can you tell me?”

Light opened his mouth, and closed it. Then tried again: “I wanted to believe that the effects were gone, but I… truthfully haven’t escaped it, and don’t know what to do…” He held onto his own breath in apprehension. That, was only half of a lie.

“I wish I could believe you whole-heartedly,” Shintaro mumbled, and curled up on his smaller couch. “You should go to sleep. Tomorrow’s gonna suck for you with those injuries… You should get some rest while you can, or you’ll regret it.” The shut-in closed his eyes, nestling himself under his blanket. “Goodnight, Light.”

“Goodnight, Shintaro-kun.” Light realized his tone was one of annoyance. He felt hot coals of outrage festering in his chest, and he knew he was on the brink of heading towards total lack of self-control again. I can’t lose my control. I at the very least need to keep myselfThe anger shriveled and morphed into fear. Can I keep myself? If it weren’t for Roppi, I’d be fine! If I… if I…

“Wish I had music…,” uttered Shintaro under his breath.

…If I die here, what will happen? His breath caught in his throat. I don’t want to die. No. No way, I can’t—I can’t die; not here. Definitely not here. Not— His chest tightened. He felt desperation thick in his lungs, consuming him whole. I don’t want to die… no, anything but that…

Ryuk isn’t here… Whoever these game masters are, are they more powerful than a Shinigami? More powerful than even a god? Gods and demons alike… that’s right; both have been dragged to this arena…

How can I stand a chance? Where can the answer be hiding? I have that scrap of paper… – an assumption that had metamorphosed from a vague hope to a definite fact – …and Shintaro helped me take off my watch—

His mouth twisted into an uncontrollable grin of disdainful mirth. Wrath coursed through him like adrenaline. The two raged within him in an unstable balance of mirthful ire and debilitating dread. His harrowed lifeblood running with pride, trepidation, and desensitized bloodlust all the same.

The worst of me, huh?

In his swirling thoughts of indignation, horror, and rage, his tumultuous psyche came at last to a shining conclusion – an idea of vivid clarity which the game masters would most certainly have designated as a very special place:

The graveyard.

If he could find something there; anything… If there were an items module, he could get his followers – they’d help him for sure! Even if he forfeited, then there was a possibility he’d be forfeiting not his ownership of the Death Note, the notebook of judgment, but forfeiting these ridiculous death games! If he did that, he’d surely be fine!

And even if there were no items pillars in the graveyard, there was surely something to be found there! The game masters wouldn’t put something so mysterious as a graveyard on the game field without a purpose placed to it…

…And even if there was nothing to be found there, he would be alone there, and in that time of isolation, he could pull his wristwatch out and figure out how to write down Roppi’s name… He had a pin in his watch along with his scrap of paper—he could use his own blood if he needed to.

It was as though he were drawn there by some tantalizing entity, led on by something beyond himself.

Shintaro was in the beginnings of slumber, dreams flitting behind his eyelids by the time Light got up, putting all of his weight on his left leg. Mustering up his own tolerance, he began limping to the door. Shintaro only awoke at the click the door made upon its closing, stirring and opening his eyes to find that Light was gone. He didn’t know what to think.

Light left the house, limping with jaded but focused eyes, set on his goal of the graveyard gates. His thoughts deteriorated, leaving him with one repeating notion: the need to get away. Above him, the stars were bright and the moon hung high. Yagami, said the back of his thoughts, if absently. Night God. That’s me.

Approaching the gates, he grasped at the iron and pulled, grimacing as he did so while the gates themselves creaked in protest. He felt his gut screaming at him to stop, but couldn’t tell whether it was out of premonition or out of physical injury. Maybe both. After opening the gate just enough, he slipped in, clutching at his abdomen. He felt a wetness there. His wound had reopened.

If I bleed out… out here, who will…? Can I make it back?

The thought was swallowed by his blinding emotion, but he kept going, breathing heavily and hobbling along with a look of pained determination. He staggered by the first headstones, pausing at the name engraved there: Uryuu Minene. He didn’t take the time to read any other inscription on the stone, using it for support momentarily before continuing on to the next, leaving a bloody handprint in his wake. It wasn’t a name he recognized anyhow. He kept on.

Yuno Gasai.

Yukiteru Amano.

A-ya.

Light began to slow down; something was very off about this place. He felt that it was beginning to get eerie, but he couldn’t place it. The sky was mostly clear, and the clouds around the moon were glowing in cool light.

He knew that there was most certainly something for him to find at the end of this path, yes, using each headstone as a support. I can make it. I can make it.

Light tottered a bit, then stopped, shifting onto his good leg and staring at the headstone he was approaching.

Shintaro Kisaragi.

Something rose in him, but it was shoved down by a blossoming terror. Is this where we end up? Is this a foretelling of who will die; is it certain? Or are these just here, one for every player?

He staggered backwards, slowly but surely. He turned to find that the headstone on the opposite side of the path read, Seidou Takizawa.

Are they messing with me? Is that it?

Just ahead: Ken Kaneki.

Ginshi Shirazu.

Shirou Emiya.

With hesitation, he trudged forward as though his feet were leaden. He felt as though he were walking through a realm he wasn’t meant to see.

L Lawliet.

Light stopped here and gazed at the stone as if in disbelief. He absorbed the reality of the stone before him. It seemed fake, like a set-up. Something held him in place. He couldn’t move. Turning his head as if on command, he saw the next grave, just beside L.

Light Yagami.

“No…” I won’t die. I won’t die here. I can’t die here… He dropped to his knees. I’m not here to look at the gravestones that they’ve set up anyway… I’m here to try writing on that piece of paper… Kneeling on the ground, he pulled his watch from his pocket, pulling at the little screw that allowed him to open the secret compartment. As it opened, a gust of wind ghosted through the cemetery, and he covered the scrap to protect it from flying away. With the cold rush of air, he felt his mind clear. It quickened; the air was racing with itself, trying to catch up to time; match the earth’s rotation or something. Light almost thought that a storm had blown in, but as the air sped up further, him clutching tighter to his watch, he felt himself get purged of something blotting his system. A thought came to him: I’ve just been incredibly foolish.

Ready to chastise himself for all of his previous idiotic actions, he felt the gale cease. He opened his eyes to the sky above him – the clouds had dissipated, but all he could see was the moon above amongst a sea of inky black. There were no stars, but… Everything was somehow more vivid than it ever had been. Everything from after the point after being stabbed by Roppi’s blade had been washed neatly; his memories were patchy. All he could conjecture was that he had been a fool. He felt like he’d just awoken from some sort of mortifying dream.

What am I doing here? he wondered, justifiable fear grabbing onto his insides and constricting his breathing. He looked around at the tombstones surrounding him on either side of the dirt path he knelt upon. I must look ridiculous, kneeling here like this. Oh, Roppi, making a fool of me—him, and the game masters letting him have that thing. I’m sure, I’m sure that the game masters think that terrible trinket is a fun little toy.

The stones around him no longer had recognizable names etched into their surfaces. Now they were faceless, unreadable. Just in front of him was a large mausoleum, looming over him in eerie reminiscence of ‘the end.’ Before the mausoleum of stone was a girl, not even a teenager yet, it seemed. She was young enough to have been untouched by puberty, her long, thin, wavy hair flowing wispily in the light zephyr that followed the gale that had just been a moment ago. She wore black leggings to her ankles, shorts atop them. A jean jacket covered a pink tank top. This person was peering at Light in wonder, her mouth agape. “Oh… my… God.”

Somehow, these words, this person… it all seemed too ordinary to Light – what was this person doing here? Was she a player? A game master? What? It just seemed so out of place, so regular, like an everyday occurrence—just another day at the graveyard for me; how was your day?

“I mean,” she corrected, “oh my Light.” And she giggled in what should have been mockery of his supposed God complex… Honestly, it sounded more like simple childish humor.

Though it vaguely irked Light, he couldn’t be all too mad at the remark. It was really just a kid… who knew his name, that was waiting for him in the middle of a graveyard, in front of a mausoleum. Nothing to be worried about.

As he looked closer, though, he felt as though he was looking into a void. The air around this girl seemed to be dispelled, the image around her was just slightly distorted, as if she didn’t belong here and was taking up space that wasn’t meant to be disturbed. It was as though every other part of the world was seen through bleary eyes, while she was in vivid clarity… a stark contrast to all other things.

“…Who are you?” he asked, a tentative question.

“Oh.” She paused, folding her slender fingers together in front of her as if in contemplation. “If I tell you my name, you won’t kill me, will you?”

Light watched her, dumbfounded. “Of course not,” he replied. He realized his watch was still in his hand.

“I’m Anna,” she smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, Light.” The girl named Anna held out her hand as if in greeting, then hesitated, pulling it back to her side. “Never mind, um… I don’t want to mess anything up.”

“What do you mean?” Light asked, cautious.

“Here’s one thing, I fixed Roppi’s knife on you.” She paused. “You’re welcome.”

He frowned slightly. “…Thank you.”

Anna lit up, apparently pleased that he’d actually thanked her. “Sorry about Roppi, he sure can be a jerk. I like him, though. He’s nice; it’s just in secret.”

Light’s eyes narrowed in vague curiosity.

“Kinda like A-ya.” She was looking at the sky as if in nostalgia. “A-ya is nice in secret. I hope he’s okay.”

Light began shifting to get to his feet, but she put her hands on her hips and snipped, “No!” at which he froze. “Your leg hurts. It needs to get better first.”

Obliging grudgingly, he shifted so that his legs were in front of him rather than beneath him. Now he could sit casually in comfort. Well, as much comfort as he could find here. “Why are you in a graveyard?” he inquired, his eyes burning in suspicion.

“The others don’t want me to mess it all up,” she pouted, sitting on the ground to face him. She wrapped her arms around her knees, looking at him with wide, bright eyes. Innocence. “But now I’m not alone, ‘cause you came to visit.”

“The others?” he repeated, slowly piecing together the purpose of this meeting. “Do you mean the game masters?”

“Game masters?” Anna repeated. “I guess you could call them that… if you want. I guess ‘game masters’ to you, but not to me.” She looked down, her eyes becoming distinctly sorrowful. “I’d explain it, but it wouldn’t make much sense to you.”

He frowned slightly, stifling his offense.

“No, even if you’re a genius, it doesn’t make sense,” she clarified, and he flinched ever so slightly.

She sees right through you, huh? Interesting, when it’s me… He chuckled slightly.

“You know, I like you better when you’re not Kira,” Anna said to him, her voice disappointed. She began making circles in the dirt with her fingers. “You’re more fun that way. I also like Seidou from before he goes all ‘I wanna eat your face.’” She sighed woefully. “Like, what the heck?”

Did she just compare me to Seidou? That sadistic, cannibalistic maniac…? He tilted his head in question, hiding his discontent.

“Seriously, he’s way scary now. I bet he’d eat me if he came into this graveyard…” She trailed off, her thoughts somewhere distant.

“Why a graveyard?” he asked, and she looked at him.

“Huh?”

“Why are you here?” he tried again, smiling slightly with brow furrowed in concern. He tried to make light of the situation. Tried to act friendly. After the mess he’d just been in, it was slightly more difficult than usual. “Why not a different area of the playing field?”

“I’m here because… because I’m me,” she answered, as if it were obvious.

“I see…” So she’s related to the game masters somehow… but…? “What was the idea behind all of the names on the headstones?” he pried further, and she blinked at him.

“What do you mean? You mean those?” She pointed to the mausoleum behind her, and Light looked, if only out of vague interest. There were six blocks of stone that had engravings on them – three on each side of the entrance. The lettering was almost-gothic and seemed to be done long ago even though there wasn’t a single chip in the monument.

On the left, the three names were as follows:

Tyler Durden
Sky Aster
David Rodmann

On the right, they were:

Corey Goldenfeld
Charlie Greyson
Rayne Aleksandr

Atop the frame that held the intricately designed bronze doors, there was but one word etched in the stone, as though it were the name of the mausoleum itself: Musa. The six names each had an inscription in Latin beneath them (consilium, profundum, tempus, symbolorum, cor, vinculum), but there wasn’t anything that Light could immediately conjecture about the names or the words that followed them.

“Ah, no, actually,” he denied, and she giggled at him.

“Light, silly, you’re already dead,” she said, and he could have sworn his heart skipped a beat.

“Wh…” What does this girl think she’s saying? “…What do you mean?”

“I mean, you died.” It was a matter-of-fact statement.

He found that he was breathless. Different realms, different supernatural entities… Is she a Shinigami? “Does that make all of this…?”

“The place you go when you die?” She stood, crossing her arms. “No, we’re not that cool.” She beamed at him. “No, we’re just playing a game, right? You said so. You just—already died, that’s all.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” he informed her, but she only laughed again, this time a childish mockery of the maniacal.

“No, it doesn’t,” she agreed. “But neither do you, meanie poop!”

…What did she just call me?

“Ryuk’s worse; he’s the one that kills you. I’m not saying that you’re dead, right now. I’m saying that you’ve died already. And so has L. You killed L. You killed him.”

“Are you telling me the future?” he asked, eyes widening in in comprehension. Ryuk told me from the very beginning that he would be the one to take my life. And L will be… But, he—here, he…

“Not your future, obviously,” she grinned. “You’re not going home.”

“What?”

“You can’t, just like L can’t.”

“But L is…”

“L is dead,” she confirmed. She paused, her light brown hair flowing with the breeze. “I want ‘innocent’ Light. Not ‘Kira’ Light… It would have been so much more fun.” Anna sighed lightly. “We could have been friends that way, you know? I got rid of Roppi’s stupid item thing so that you could at least have had the choice whether to go the good way or the bad. But because you’re the Kira Light, it makes you all suspicious, makes you all grumpy. You act nice, but what’s the point if it’s fake? Why is it so many of you have to change so, so much?”

Eyes narrowing, his grip tightened on his watch. “Who are you?” he repeated.

“My name, or my face?” she huffed, crossing her arms again and leaning towards him. He could feel her presence. He couldn’t tell whether it was a good thing or a bad thing.

“Neither. Who are you?

“Oh.” She ran a hand through her hair absently. “I’m… well. Fine.” She straightened up, looking down on him with sudden seriousness. He stared right back, unwavering. “I’ve gotten rid of your harrow or whatever. So.” Her tone lowered slightly. “Think on the things people have said to you since then. That Shirou person talking about his dream: he is your ideal, isn’t he? Isn’t he the person you were? Who you tried to be? You want to be justice, don’t you? I’ll tell you, he ends up pretty much doing your thing, going around killing criminals. He’s the picture of what Light wants, what he was, what he wished. Then there is Shintaro, who began the same way you did. Someone so good they don’t care. Both of them tried to reach out to you in their own ways. How do you feel about that?”

“I… am not sure what you mean,” he said carefully.

“I want you to understand everything you’ve done, so do it,” she said coolly, and he felt a crushing weight on his chest. Gasping for air, he curled forward, his ears ringing, his eyes burning. It was like something had settled on him, something cold and heavy, something so crushing from the inside out… that he…

I’ve felt this before. I have.

He remembered curling up, fetal position under his blanket in bed, wide awake with the horror that he’d actually killed someone. How many was that, now?

Justification. Desensitization.

After having caught his breath, he glowered in outrage up at the little girl. It was very clear now that her intent was no longer peaceful. Looking at her, he noticed again the odd way his perception seemed to bend around her.

“You’re a killer,” Anna said plainly. “You’re a mortal, too. Even though you don’t like to think about it. Not that I can blame you for refusing either of those things, but they’re the truth.” She took a step towards him. “You are no god. You’re just… Light Yagami.”

As she took another step, he felt his senses beginning to deceive him; it was almost as though she brought a numbness with her wherever she went, and he could feel it in the air.

“I want you to know exactly what the truth is. I want you to see yourself for what you really are. What you were. And what you will be. I want you to understand, because I wanted to be your friend once upon a time, and now that just can’t happen if you end up all messed up in the head.”

A sense of impending… impending… he didn’t even know what it was, but he knew something was about to befall him, and he was frozen in place, unable to protest no matter how much he tried. He was immobile, rendered useless.

“I’m sorry, Light,” Anna apologized, eyes softening. She was right in front of him now. “What’s more terribly ‘real’ than a graveyard?”

Real? His gaze flickered; something behind her caught his eye – someone standing off and to the side at his slight right. He felt that terrible terror choking him again, rising in his throat and asphyxiating him with the scream that he refused to let free.

It was the ghost of himself, staring right back at him with clear eyes, clear conscience. He looked concerned. Troubled. Fearful of the boy that Light knew was himself; he was watching as he looked at himself with sorrowful distaste. “…Stop…,” he got out, going against the weight and the fear and the immobility that had flooded him.

Confusion crossed Anna’s orbs. “Huh?” She looked behind her, then back at Light. “Hm… I guess that’s not me. I’m not about symbols. I don’t get them.”

Light’s vision shifted, his eyes flitting frantically. The finality of death loomed before him. No. Waiting for him behind one of the tombstones was the faceless figure of L, hands in his pockets, slouching as always. “No,” he croaked, trying to back away from Anna. “I don’t want to die!” he cried out, turning around and scrabbling to get away from the girl walking after him calmly.

“I am Reality, Light,” she said to him, and the honest answer came to him like a stake to the heart.

That can’t be… “Please…”

“And that’s why you can’t leave this graveyard.” She was standing over him, now, and all at once he felt an eruption from within him – a wall had broken. From the stark black-and-white world he’d known, the two concrete groups of good and evil—from his perception of monochrome, he suddenly envisioned color, blossoming and blooming in an explosion of every hue imaginable. He felt as though he’d been colorblind, and for a few seconds, he found that he’d forgotten how to breathe. His eyes burned, his face felt warm. He heard faint drops of water on the ground. He stopped scrabbling away and sank to the ground, leaden in his epiphany. He could see every shade of morality. He felt the saturated grey called doubt. He felt the purple dread and the red rage. Suddenly, the world had been painted in colors he’d forgotten existed. Colors he’d never even known existed.

It’s so beautiful.

His vision was blurry with something wet—he closed his eyes and felt the moon above him, hanging in midnight’s suspension amongst the inky black. He felt as though ink was in his lungs, in his throat, coating him and boring into him like acid.

He realized all the color that he’d made into the dark crimson of death.

My dream… I just want…

“I don’t—want to die,” he repeated brokenly, his voice weak.

“You won’t,” Anna answered him. “I promise. Thank you for understanding, at least right now… But I cheated.” She paused. “So… It doesn’t count.”

“Make it stop,” he whispered.

She didn’t answer at first. Then, “I will. You won’t die, Light… You’ll just be… not-real.” The last sentence was spoken softly, regretfully yet somehow mercilessly. He felt her hand at his back, and he felt something cool and refreshing flooding him, clearing him of the pain from his wounds. Kneeling on the ground beside him, the young girl embraced him, the numbness swallowing him whole and drowning him in the night sky. He didn’t have the chance to protest. Anna knelt there with only darkness in her arms for some time. At her side was the grave of Light Yagami. She was alone, a sole figure in desolation.

“With just me out here…” – her voice was soft; it was one with the breeze – “…it gets really boring, you know?”

 

Chapter 56: With(out)

Chapter Text

 

It was before Light had gone on his escapade, and the stars that weren’t hidden by clouds were sparkling in the luminescence of togetherness. “It’s kinda weird,” whispered Yukiteru to A-ya. “…Having so many people around. I bet most of them are awake.” They were sitting on one of the rocks, trying to keep down their tones so as not to disturb anyone. So as not be heard.

“Maybe,” A-ya agreed. He felt like he’d lost something important – he didn’t know whether it was because of the silent company around them, though. Eight other people… Two of them were on watch, even: Twelve and Minene were sitting on the opposite side of the clearing, on their own rock with neither of them facing Yukki and A-ya.

Noticing them, Twelve gave a hearty wave, and Yukki gave a little awkward one in turn while A-ya gazed at the terrorist without expression. “…It’s definitely strange,” A-ya admitted, closing his eyes. “Less… isolated. I don’t know whether I like it or not.”

“It should be fine,” Yukiteru assured him. “I mean, we still have our time together here… and with all these people around, we’re way safer than we’d be alone. Setting up night shifts… none of us ever did that.” He tugged at his hat. “I guess we were lucky, huh?” He laughed nervously.

“Yeah,” A-ya agreed distantly.

“Right, so what was it you were trying to tell me earlier?” asked Yukki, leaning forward to peer at A-ya’s downturned face.

“…Oh…” His eyes flickered. “It was… nothing, really.”

“Well, I’d like to know,” the other prodded. “It wasn’t nothing if you wanted to tell me… right?”

A-ya grunted noncommittally. “It was just… that C-ta and I used to play a game back when we were little, where I would be—the dark-clad hero… And he’d be the villain, see. I wonder if he would have remembered now…? Ah, of course he would. C-ta is C-ta…” He trailed off, and Yukki gazed in sympathy, lost for words. “…But that’s why it’s like a game, being like this. I’m super free… all-powerful, or something.” He laughed ever so slightly, and Yukiteru smiled. “It feels like a dream.”

“Does it?” The diary owner’s eyes were sparkling. “It makes me wonder… wonder what it’ll be like when I use my item.” He beamed excitedly, gripping his hands into fists. “Imagine the look on Minene’s face! Hah!”

A-ya looked at him with soft expression before looking back up at the sky. “Hey, Yukiteru.”

“Eh? Yeah?”

“If something were to go wrong, what would happen?”

Yukiteru blinked at him confusedly. “What… do you mean?”

“Ah…” He began to laugh. “What would you do if I were possessed by a demon?” A-ya asked him.

“Possessed by a—A-ya!” he cried in protest to A-ya’s playful chuckling. Yukiteru huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “…Well, if you were possessed by a demon, well, you’d probably keep him as a pet or something, knowing you.” A-ya only laughed harder, at which Yukki cried, “Seriously!” in that hushed kind of outcry… like kids at a sleepover trying not to wake their parents. The diary owner found himself laughing with A-ya, though maybe he wasn’t sure why. Together they fell into a fit of good-natured amusement.

“Ah, ah, Yukiteru,” said A-ya eventually, now lit up with something warm. “So Celty, she’s apparently a Dullahan—have you ever heard of it?”

“Huh? No, I haven’t,” he answered. A-ya’s excitement was contagious. “Go on… What’s that? Sounds interesting…”

Given the go ahead, A-ya drove right on forward into a full explanation of Celtic folklore and the meaning of the Dullahan and the implications of Celty being one and…

…Not that he wouldn’t have told Yukki anyway, regardless of whether he’d urged him to tell. And just like that, their togetherness was revived, as it always was.

Across the clearing, Twelve listened to the muted laughter of Yukiteru and A-ya, giving them a glance out of the corner of his eye. “Hm… Hey, Minene,” he said, and she grunted grumpily in answer. They were facing opposite directions on the largest rock in the area. “I think it’s pretty funny that they picked two terrorists to take first watch, don’t you?” he asked.

“Probably not the first thing on their mind,” Minene answered bluntly. “Besides, being on watch is a pain.”

Twelve leaned back on the stone, lying on his back with his head at her side so he could look at her. “So, can I ask a question?”

She frowned down at him, annoyed. “Well, you just did, didn’t you? More than once.”

“You’re right,” he shrugged. “But will you answer it?”

“Depends on the question,” she grumbled.

“Why are you a terrorist?”

Her eye narrowed in intense annoyance. “None of your business,” she growled.

“C’mon, as a fellow terrorist, I kinda wanna know!” he pressed, and she shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest and crossing one leg over the other.

“Just because you blow shit up doesn’t mean it’s any of your business why I do it.”

“I’ll tell you why I do,” he offered, and she rolled her single eye in exasperation.

“You think I care?” she scoffed.

“No,” he admitted, sitting back up. “But terrorism is born from a statement, isn’t it? What’s yours?” His eyes were shrouded, not that she could see it. A smile still touched his lips.

“My statement?” She clicked her tongue. “There is no god and the world sucks. How’s that?” His answer was laughter, and she turned sharply to glare at him. “Don’t tell me it isn’t true!”

He didn’t look back. “Well, I can’t tell whether there’s a god or anything,” he conceded, “but I admit there’s a lot wrong with the world. I’ll give you that. But to be a terrorist… ah, I guess that’s as good a reason as any.”

She paused, her anger shifting to confusion. “Well then? What’s yours, then?” she asked harshly.

Von,” he answered obscurely, and she squinted at him.

“What?”

A dark laugh escaped his mouth. “To unveil truth. To be remembered. To… to play a game, honestly.” He raised his hands slightly, palms facing the sky. “Imagine a world that you’ve been rejected from… a world where you’ve never been needed by anyone… a world where you have no right to existence. You set up something made to destroy, but only you have the switch that saves that world. Suddenly, everyone is watching. The whole world is in the palm of your hand. Suddenly, everyone needs you. The whole world needs you. Even if it’s just to spare their lives.”

She stared at him with intensity, a question in her eye. She began to laugh. “That’s your idea of a game, huh?” she snickered. “Pretty dark… I love it.”

He leaned back to look at her, lighting up. “But don’t get me wrong,” he said brightly, “we don’t kill anyone.”

“Hah?” She quirked an eyebrow. As he burst into a fit of laughter, she frowned. “That kind of game, then… That’s somehow more fucked up.”

“As my partner says,” he grinned, “sanity has never made our acquaintance, not from the very beginning.”

She blinked, then gave a bark of laughter. “That so? Well, well… Maybe you’re not so bad.”

“I like to think not,” he agreed, and she shook her head, turning back to where she was designated to watch. “Ah, but you’re terrible, you know that?”

“Yeah,” she smirked. “I know.” And Twelve laughed, light-hearted.

On the ground, lying in the grass, there lay the six at ‘rest.’ Among them was Izaya gazing impassively at the sky and listening to the quiet conversations surrounding him, with Twelve and Minene at his right and Yukiteru and A-ya at his left. His expression did not change at all throughout, absorbing every word and pocketing them for information purposes. Twelve was becoming ever more interesting to him, but everything about him had already been ‘interesting.’ A-ya, on the other hand, was interesting in his own way. Yes, that was right, Izaya had new toys to play with—the gullible Yukiteru and the irritable Minene… He had Suzuya to taunt, Twelve to pick apart…

…But really, it didn’t make him feel any better.

There’s a difference, of course, between A-ya and I. We’re both quite alike… and he’s managed to surprise me with the level of which he takes joy in the same things I do. But…

The night passed, and Izaya watched the stars slowly rotate. Watched the moon take its course in the sky. Yukiteru and A-ya settled for the night, eventually coming to the agreement that they should both lay down and go to bed. It was A-ya who asked for them to retire, strangely enough. He listened to the rustling of them preparing to sleep. He heard the whispered goodnights.

Izaya felt something almost insectile settling itself in his chest, encasing him in something invisible. Something only he could perceive, but boy oh boy did it make all the difference. The feeling birthed only negativity.

Ah, what a foolish emotion, he thought mildly, bringing a hand to his chest quietly. No use in that. Oh well… stop that. In all serenity, he raised his hand into the air… then slammed it into his chest. Only then did he let his arm rest at his side. Go away, he thought bitterly, glaring at the sky.

A feeling of stagnancy returned, his expression one of nothingness. That’s right, because A-ya still has people flock to him. Because he has Yukiteru-kun, and he gets along well with Roy, and with Rika, and with Celty, and with…

He felt suddenly as though he was the only one lying on that grass, and everyone else was gone. Total isolation.

…I would like some tea.

He closed his eyes. All the people I see, I love them so, so much—enough that one day, surely…

But his thoughts were half-hearted. He couldn’t bring himself to think in fixated glee. He felt that odd heaviness again, and didn’t know what to do about it. It’s so quiet… Twelve, won’t you talk? He brought the heel of his palm to his forehead, closing his eyes. Discomfort swelled in him. I could do without the quiet… What… about Celty…? His chest seized. The more he thought about it, the more he thought that perhaps he wanted to listen to the cheery whispers of Yato, teasing and playful. The hisses of Yukine in turn. He wanted to join in the banter. He wanted to have Shizuo snap at him, telling him to get the fuck to sleep, because he was nothing but a goddamn flea that got under people’s skin.

Ah, Shizu-chan,” he uttered under his breath. His expression twisting, he screwed his eyes shut. You, too, were able to find that. ‘Connections.’ It’s hilarious, really, that the information broker is the one trying to figure out something like a ‘connection.’ Something like… something like…

A dry, dismal laugh escaped him. “You bastard,” he remarked breathily, filled with something unpleasant. You really did me in, didn’t you? he thought, glaring at the moon with one eye covered by his hand. How dare I say you never caught me, huh? You damned protozoan… you’ve got me. You’ve really got me. You, who was close to so many people… people like Celty and Shinra; people like Yukine and Yato. All that time, I wanted to torment you, but why? Izaya couldn’t come up with an answer. He lowered his hand to his side again, resting it on the cool grass. It was rather frustrating. With a sigh, he folded his hands together over his stomach.

Well, Shizuo, he thought, staring into the stars with hollowed out eyes. …Having done what you have… having gone and sacrificed yourself for the person you hate most, I have to say you’ve given me the greatest puzzle yet. Really funny—yeah, really funny…

…But seeing as you’ve done that, Protozoan… you’d better damn well be happy with that choice. Wherever you’ve ended up… whatever’s become of you—I swear, you better damn well be happy. Something was stirring inside him, struggling to free itself. …Seriously… He brought one of his arms over his eyes and rested it there. You shouldn’t have died there. You shouldn’t have. It was stupid of you, you know that? Not that we didn’t know you were a complete idiot, but…

…At least know you won’t be forgotten. You, surely, have people who’ll miss you. Someone like you shouldn’t have had to die in such a stupid way. It should have been someone else. Not you.

…It probably should have been me.

Something squeezed in his chest. He bit his lip. Hard. He tasted iron. What was that he’d said just before he died? ‘Even if I hate you, you’re still human’? Izaya came to the conclusion that he’d actually rather Shizuo be around hating his guts rather than lying dead in a pool of his own blood. What did that mean? Swiftly, the feeling of stagnancy befell him again, a weight that settled on him and made him want nothing but to lie there until the end, uncaring of whatever may happen to him if he refused to move for the rest of the game. What could possibly be done? Let Yato come and kill him; let the others mock him, it wouldn’t make a difference, would it? Let them! Let them!

That’s ridiculous. Izaya Orihara is not someone who gives up. Izaya is the one who is able to find beauty in the most twisted of scenarios… His mouth twitched. That’s right. I’ll be the one smiling at your funeral, Shizuo… No, no, don’t get me wrong, it won’t be disrespect.

…But look at me. His mouth twisted into a bitter smile. I’m so out of sorts. Hah! Shizuo, don’t think you can go and tear me down… especially if you’re not around to even see it! There’s no point in that, is there?

There was a pause. The weight on him had eased. …Ah, the people who have others flock to them… People like Shizuo. Like A-ya, even though he is like me… Why is that, I wonder? Ah. There’s… Yato. The thought struck him as funny. Yato, now… He’s nowhere near that point, now… He’s just a monster. There’s no way for people to flock to him like before…

If someone that people can love can become someone people avoid, perhaps the reverse is possible?

He closed his eyelids, sighing slightly in annoyance with himself. What a stupid thought… Why wonder?

Gradually, sleep tugged him into the uneasy dark of rest.


Yato took rest in the crook of a tree, leaning on the trunk and sitting upon a thick limb, one leg dangling off of the branch. His breathing was heavy; he was gasping for air. Nora was sitting on the branch beside him, her red eyes narrowed slightly in distant alarm. “Is that one done?”

“Seidou?” he choked out, and she nodded.

He breathlessly nodded back. He pointed off to the east, closer to the edge of the wooded area. “Back there… Stopped. He needs to rest too.” Swallowing, he gritted his teeth and pulled off his jacket. His shirt.

“Your chest,” she agreed, going to tear off another piece of her white kimono. “I don’t much like the one that cut you.”

He didn’t respond, just let her tend to his wounds without answer. By the time she was tying off her makeshift bandages, he’d somewhat caught his breath. “Thanks.”

She smiled at him. “Of course, Yato…” She watched as he put his long-sleeved white shirt back on, spoiled with splotches of deep red.

“We need to lose that guy,” he said seriously. “My jersey.” He held up the jacket, ripped, torn, charred, and sodden with his own blood. “This is what’ll do it.”

“Your jacket,” she remarked, tilting her head. “A scent trail, then? Give him two trails to follow?”

He nodded, then looked at her gravely. “Do you know what that means, Nora?”

She gazed at him with jaded warmth. “Don’t worry, Yato… I can be your bait if it means that you’ll be okay.” Her doll-like features upturned in contentedness. “So, what is your plan, then? I take your jacket and go one way, while you go another? Is that it?”

“Mostly,” he answered. Yato put one hand on his knee, gazing out to the little walking path set beneath them not too far away. “What I’ll have you do… is head over to the groups resting at the fringe of the forest… that way.” He pointed south, where Groups 3 and 6 were nestled. “I know there are people over there… If it’s Izaya’s group… if it’s Kuroha’s new vessel, even… that would be ideal. Seidou is hungry—if he gets tripped up by a group, it’s likely he’ll attack, being as visceral as he is right now. From there…” His eyes narrowed. “Either he thins out the group, or the group kills Seidou. Maybe even both. Once things get dangerous… then do a mental shout-out. I’ll call out your name, and you’ll rejoin me. Safe.”

She looked at him for some time. She shifted slightly on her branch so that she could lean into his side. He didn’t react. “Yato… I’ll do it. Don’t worry. I’d do anything to make sure that you were okay…” He grunted in answer, and she took pause. “…Ah, though I wonder…” She closed her eyes. “If I were to die for you… would you be so upset as you are over that blond boy?” She felt him go rigid, and her small smile played over her lips again. “Don’t worry… even if you weren’t to care… Even if you sacrifice me without a second thought I wouldn’t mind, no… not at all. Because I get to be together with you as a family again. That’s enough for me.”

“…Hiiro, I won’t let you die,” he said, his voice taut.

“Did you let him die?” she answered, and he didn’t respond. “I didn’t think so.”

“I won’t let you,” he repeated, and she nestled more comfortably into his side.

“Okay, Yato,” she said.

“…” He lowered his head. “…We should split up soon.”

“I know.” She didn’t move. He looked at her, and at her peaceful face. Releasing a breath, he leaned back on the trunk again, relaxing ever so slightly.

The night was quiet.

 

Chapter 57: Hit-and-Run

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

 

Izaya woke with a start, his heart beating loud in his ears. Sitting up abruptly, he grimaced in annoyance. Another nightmare? he thought bitterly. His ears ringing, he listened to reality shifting back into place within his perception. It was very quiet. Looking over at the ‘watchman stone’ or whatever you wanted to call it, there were Roy and Celty on watch. He felt something hot in his chest. He hoped Celty didn’t notice the way he woke up. Not that it really matters.

He stretched, listening to the air stir gently around him. Everyone was still. If Izaya were to guess at a time, it would be perhaps four o’clock in the morning. There was a sort of fogginess settled over the rest of the groups, but Izaya’s senses were razor-sharp. He was wide awake. He knew there were a few people lying down that were in semi-consciousness, blearily fading in and out of much-needed slumber. I should try to go back to sleep, Izaya thought to himself, closing his eyes and rubbing at the back of his head. He heard something dripping, like morning dew into a pond.

…What is that?

He opened his eyes to see a girl, practically glowing in the night. She was crouched childishly in front of him to match his height, and her face was like a doll’s. Admittedly, it momentarily frightened him. “Izaya,” she smiled sweetly, and Izaya heard the sounds of darkness moving at Celty’s command. His mouth twisted.

“Oi!” The harsh warning call of Roy. Izaya didn’t pause to look at him and Celty. “Who are you?”

“You’ve stepped into the wrong group,” said Izaya, his eyes narrowing. “…Nora.” He felt a strange, pleasant feeling knowing that he had Roy and Celty at his back. Had seven other people ready and willing to fight. Well—more or less. His hand was on the hilt of the Prophet blade. “Where’s your fool of a master? Hiding like a coward, hah?”

“A laughing coward is what you are,” she answered in sugary ice. “Ah…” She tilted her head. “Your eyes aren’t very pretty. It looks as though something’s rotting inside them.”

It was then that Celty had her scythe hanging ominously over the back of Nora’s neck. The spirit made no move to indicate that she noticed the death threat. “You wish to know the whereabouts of Yato?” she inquired.

“I’d love that, seeing as you’re here,” Izaya answered easily, lifting the Prophet and holding it in front of him in defensive position.

“Here he is,” she said, and pulled the black jersey from her shoulders, holding it up. “Have it, Izaya.” She held it out to him, and his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Here he is. He was your team member, right?”

“Where is he?” he repeated, and she began to tremble in an eerie form of childish giggling.

“What have you come for?” asked Roy coldly, stepping up. Izaya was listening to the rest of the people stirring, some of them coming to, confusion settling over the clearing.

She didn’t answer, only smiled. Izaya got the portentous feeling that this was the calm before the storm. “What have you got planned, Nora?” Izaya’s tone had become an ice of its own. He got to his feet, pointing the Prophet at her with a merciless gaze.

[Do you know what this is about, Izaya?] asked Celty, using her good hand to type while keeping the scythe suspended midair above Nora.

He responded without looking at her. “This is about Yato, the God of Calamity… and about Nora’s petty little games; her jealousy and her need to have control.”

“Sounds like someone I’m looking at,” Nora answered him sweetly, not shifting her gaze from his. He clicked his tongue. Unfazed, Nora turned her head to look at the Dark Rider. “Ah, Celty, right?” she asked, her eyes upturned in dark glee. “Do you remember me?”

She paused, then typed, [The spirit weapon used by G3? The scythe?]

“That’s right,” said Nora, and her mouth began to twist.

[What’s that smile for?] Pause. [I never wanted to fight any of you. I’m sorry for that battle. I didn’t mean for anyone to die.]

“This isn’t about that…” She was filled with cruel mirth.

The whispers were beginning to cycle around as more people woke up. Everyone was trying to figure what was happening. “Wh…what’s going on?” asked Yukiteru tentatively, rubbing at his eye.

“Seems we’ve been infiltrated,” Akise answered him, eyes alight with curiosity. “Seems that Izaya-san knows this one.”

“Oh…?” Yukiteru looked at A-ya, but A-ya was just watching the scene unfold without expression. His eyes were shining red in the dark.

Minene had mumbled a, “What the fuck…?” upon her awakening, but now she just watched in perplexity with Twelve. “Whoa, wait…”

“Do we kill her?” asked Suzuya blankly, scratching at his messy white hair.

“We don’t know yet,” answered Twelve quietly.

“No,” whispered Rika, her brow furrowed. She was on her hands and knees, trying to see around Izaya and place who was intruding. “Is that…?”

[Then what are you trying to tell me?] Celty asked.

“Yato doesn’t really like you…,” the spirit was oozing with too much sugar. “I thought I’d tell you… It’s because he thinks that you killed the girl named Hiyori.” Her mouth curled pleasantly. “I told him you did. He won’t believe you… and he definitely won’t believe you, Izaya. No, he’ll believe me. Because the person who killed that bothersome girl will never be blamed.”

“Misinformation, hah?” Izaya cocked an eyebrow. “You’re pleasantly terrible.”

She only giggled in answer while Celty took a subconscious step backwards. [But I never even faced that person!]

“So? It’s still indirectly your fault,” Nora said happily. “The destructive group that you left behind aided in her demise.”

Roy put a hand to Celty’s shoulder to indicate that she should calm down.

“Nora, Nora, is that you?” called out the tiny voice of Rika. She ran over and tottered to a stop, popping her head into the group from behind Roy. “Ah, Nora, you’re hurt…! That should get taken care of right now… It should be tended to immediately!”

Nora stared impassively at Rika, confusion flitting across her jaded eyes for a moment. “…Oh, Rika…”

“Oi, Rika, careful!” cried Minene, scrambling over and standing over the youngest. “Just ‘cause we worked with her doesn’t make her all that great—I always got a bad feeling from this one, anyway…”

“I believe that people can change,” Rika said matter-of-factly, looking at Minene with firm gaze. She then proceeded to try and push past Roy, only for Roy to stop her, putting a gloved hand on her blue-purple-haired head.

“Rika-chan…,” he said apologetically. “We’ll just wait and see what intent she has first. If she’s peaceful, then we’ll tend to her, alright? I promise.”

She frowned a bit, but nodded. “Nora, what happened to Maka? Is she alright?”

“Oh, Maka?” Nora blinked, then tilted her head, smiling contentedly a closed-eye smile at Rika. “I got rid of her already.”

“Rika, get back over here,” said Minene, taking her by the shoulder.

The child’s countenance shifted suddenly from one of childish hope to darkness. She seemed to consider saying something, but then decided against it, turning away. Nora laughed at her quietly.

“Well, in any case,” said Izaya, “I get the feeling that Nora here isn’t just visiting for a friendly chat.”

“She brought the jacket of the god,” Roy pointed out.

“So, he dead yet?” asked Minene.

“Maybe,” said Twelve brightly.

“Sad but needed…” Akise touched his chin. “But somehow, I don’t feel that that’s the case.”

“I wish I had my… um, journal…,” Yukiteru mumbled regretfully, and Akise looked over at him with vague amusement.

“Leaving a trail?” suggested Roy.

“Even if you figure it out, it’s too late,” Nora smiled thinly.

You idiotic fools,” hissed A-ya, shifting into a preparatory position, ready to pounce.

“Huh?” asked Yukiteru blankly, and everyone turned to look as a delighted war cry resounded through the night.

“That’s not Yato,” said Izaya blankly, and Seidou was upon them—a wraith in a black cloak, white hair flying around his head as he bound into the clearing.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” cried Twelve as he got lifted by his orange t-shirt into the air.

“Celty and Minene, guard the hostage Nora!” barked Roy. “Rika, Yukiteru, Akise, Twelve—stay back!” Yukiteru began to protest, but Akise took him by the hand and led him over to where Rika was, near Celty and Nora.

As Roy was giving orders, A-ya had shot into the side of the attacker, freeing Twelve only after the terrorist earned a finely bruised neck. “Wow,” he commented, going down on one knee and rubbing at his throat.

A-ya went down on the assailant, both of them tumbling over one another until the apparent half-ghoul was gone.

“A-ya, behind you!” cried Yukiteru, as the dark-clad boy heard in his ear, “Boo.” Grinning, A-ya reached behind him and grabbed onto the dark cloak of the ghoul, letting himself get grabbed in turn only to jump backwards and over Seidou’s head, flipping him over and slamming his pale and bloody head into the ground. Growling in annoyance, Seidou grabbed his ankle and yanked him from his feet, swinging him into the trees beyond the park stones. As A-ya slammed into a thick trunk, Roy stepped forward with his hand raised in preparation.

The wraith tittered, staggering to an upright position. “Look at that…” He wiped at the blood on his face and licked it off of his hand. “Look at all of you, so many.” He grinned, and Roy snapped, setting off fiery explosion of reds and oranges. Their assailant was shrieking with laughter as he dodged to the side, zigzagging back and forth until at last he jumped into the air and burst through the flames without warning. He landed on his hands and feet, his eyes wild. “Playing tag?” His mismatched orbs fixed on Izaya. “Ooo, I remember you.” And he shot forward only to get intercepted by Suzuya’s scythe, impaling him through the gut just like Yato had with Nora. “Eh—?”

“It’s a ghoul! It’s a ghoul!” cried Suzuya in delight, ripping it from his abdomen elatedly. “I can kill him, right?! I can! I can!” And he laughed like a kid running on ahead on some form of imaginative adventure. “Don’t die quick, please!”

“This one knows you too, Izaya?” frowned Roy. “What’s this about?”

“I—don’t know, actually,” Izaya shrugged. “Hm.” He tried to get a better look at the ghoul’s face, but he was already staggering away from Suzuya and ducking and jumping to avoid the quinque while Suzuya laughed all the while.

“Aa, aa, it’s that one! No, it’s… You—shit…!” In allowing his arm to be pierced, he grabbed onto the base of the scythe’s blade (engraved with the roman numeral XIII) while Izaya gave a ‘huh’ and threw himself into the throng, dicing at the dark-cloaked one only to have the Prophet blocked by his sandaled foot.

At the same time, Seidou ripped the scythe from Suzuya’s grip and threw it to the side—Izaya quickly ducked with wide eyes to keep from being beheaded. “Suzu-chan, I swear you’re trying to kill me!” Izaya cried out with a laugh as the albino investigator back-flipped away to dodge Seidou’s following swipes.

“He’s fun! Ah…” Suzuya blinked, crouching on one of the rocks with a confused expression. “…But…”

Izaya was facing him, now, with A-ya rising above the flames and coming down with a chilling grin on his features. He slammed his hand into Seidou’s back and sent a shock through him, making him choke and falter just long enough for Izaya to get a slice in. It was the dark-clad hero collaborating with the information broker, A-ya coming from above while Izaya fought from the ground. In a burst of crimson, Seidou’s kagune revealed itself, shooting projectiles in a flourish—its debut earned a few stab wounds in both Izaya and A-ya. Now Seidou could go further into the air with the dark-clad hero, leaving Izaya stranded but prepared on the ground.

With a powerful blow, A-ya sent the half-ghoul into the ground—Izaya dodged his body just in the nick of time. He frowned up at the dark-clad hero. “A-ya-kun, careful where you send him!”

“Oops,” he shrugged, landing gracefully on the ground with a cruel smile. “You should pay more attention.”

“Hah.” The informant wheeled around to block an angry swipe from Seidou, but he was just too slow. The half-ghoul slammed the back of his fist into Izaya’s arm, forcing him to swing his sword outwards, leaving him open for attack. With wide eyes and grimacing mouth, Seidou pounced on him, hands gripping at his shoulders with his expression twisted. Izaya gasped as his back made harsh contact with the ground. Recognition sparked in his red-brown eyes, and he blinked. “…Really!” he exclaimed in disbelief, and he began to laugh. He stopped laughing when Seidou bared his teeth, ready to take a hunk out of his throat. “Hey, hey, wait—”

“Heyyyy…,” said Suzuya, jumping onto Seidou’s back and wrapping his legs around his neck, fingers gripping at his white hair. The half-ghoul jerked backwards, standing back up and grabbing blindly at the investigator.

“Get OFF ME—”

“Say, say, who are you? Someone I know?” Gripping tighter at his hair, Suzuya leaned over his head and peered at him with wide grey eyes, looming upside-down, centimeters from Seidou’s face. “Woow…” He tilted his head as Seidou struggled to get him away. Unconcerned, the childish investigator put his hands on the pale cheeks of his opponent. “Takizawa? That you?” He felt the ghoul go rigid, and Suzuya’s eyes narrowed slightly. “…Oh.” He stuck his fingers inside Seidou’s blackened, bloody mouth, hooking them in the pockets of his cheeks and tugging at the corners, stretching his mouth horizontally—much to Seidou’s annoyance. “Duzzat mean you’re not scared of needles anymore? When’d this happen? Seriously…”

“Suzuya! Get out of there!” shouted Roy, and Seidou grabbed onto Suzuya’s wrists, wrapping his arms around his lower legs as he did so. He then proceeded to shove himself backwards into the ground, consequently crushing Suzuya there.

Suzuya only laughed. “Takizawa! You really think you can hurt me? I don’t feel a thing!” he cried in delight.

“Go—away—stop it—stop it, stop it, STOP.”

“Sorry, Takizawa,” grinned the other, embracing him around the neck, “but I admit…” His smile dropped, his tone suddenly dead. “I’m disappointed. To think, you throw away your humanity just like that? I didn’t expect it… For you to become something like a ‘ghoul.’ You really act the part. So now it’s my job to fight you. That’s all.”

Seidou yanked him from his shoulders, flipping him over his head and spinning him around and around until the centripetal forces at last were strong enough to throw him. He went flying with a mild, “Whoa!” Twelve jumped to catch him before Suzuya got too terribly hurt, and they collided. The force of Suzuya’s body drove Twelve back into the rock behind them, and Twelve cried out as his back made contact with the uneven stone. Suzuya was giggling until he looked up at Twelve. “Ah? …Why’d you do that?”

Twelve only smiled through his grimace.

“You don’t get it! You don’t get it! You don’t! Get it! Get it?” Seidou was stumbling around with his hands to his face. “I couldn’t help it! I couldn’t! I can’t!” It was unbearable; no, it was Suzuya, that wasn’t good at all, he shouldn’t care, he couldn’t care—damn it.

He shoved away the dark-clad hero as he came to attack; he rejected the skillful charge of Izaya. He vaguely heard the voice of the informant through the haze that was clouding his consciousness. “Takizawa, right? Seidou Takizawa! To think, this is where you’ve ended up, hah? With that much power, do you still feel inferior? I’m sorry, but looking at you is just too sad. Where’s that fire you had? Do you have anything left to believe in?”

He was hunched over, hands to his face. “Shut—up.”

“Who are you fighting for, Seidou-san? Anybody? Anyone at all?”

Shut up!” he screamed in answer.

 “I know it’s not something that Yato can claim, can he, Nora?!” he continued, then burst into sudden laughter while Nora frowned slightly in the background. “Heaven knows he’s turned his back on Yukine!” he sneered, jabbing again with the Prophet.

“I—can’t…!” Seidou broke down into hysteria, laughing brokenly. “I—see… Suzuya… Hehe…” In an abrupt outburst of impulsive rage, Seidou slammed into Izaya, trying to knock him into A-ya, who stepped to the side nonchalantly—Izaya nearly ended up in the flames, but Roy released the fire dividing the clearing. Suddenly all was dark. Seidou charged Roy, who brought one arm in front of him, on defense. He was about to snap, setting Seidou alight, but the half-ghoul angrily tore that arm clean off before jumping over him. Roy turned on his heel in alarm; Celty and Minene were prepared for anything, but Seidou only dodged to the side and sped off into the woods.

“Hit and run?” Minene asked blankly.

[Do you want someone after him?] asked Celty, but Roy only shook his head, grimacing as he clutched at his mess of a shoulder, trying to staunch the bleeding.

“Alright,” Roy said tightly. “We’ll leave him be for now. Agreed?”

“Sure,” Izaya concurred airily.

“Is Roy alright?” asked Rika worriedly.

“I’ll be fine,” he smiled at her. “I just need to stop the bleeding… And you.” He turned his gaze to Nora. “What was that, just now?”

Nora only smiled at him, silent.

“Takizawa probably thought that the god was yummy,” remarked Suzuya, picking at the threads sewn into his lower lip absently. Twelve limped along after him as they approached Roy, looking tired but pleasant.

“So Nora had a scent trail leading right to us instead of Yato,” said Izaya plainly, shrugging as he slid the Prophet back into his toy sheath. “Which means that Yato’s getting into a bit of a mess with Seidou-kun at his tail.” He snickered. “Which means Yato’s not doing so well, is he?” The informant smiled knowingly at Nora, who continued gazing at him with mild distaste. “Unless he just wants to be an asshole, which is fair enough.” The smile spread to that Izaya grin of his. “I mean, I’d probably be kind of an asshole, too, if I were him.”

“You’re already an asshole, though,” commented Suzuya blankly, at which Twelve busted up laughing.

“Oh, Suzuya, be nice,” said the friendly terrorist, stifling a grin to no avail.

Closing her eyes, Nora answered calmly, “No matter what you say about Yato, it’s fine. I don’t like the lot of you anyways… because you’d kill him, if you could. If you think that I’m his weakness, you’re wrong.” That eerie smile touched her lips again. “No, because you can’t catch me.”

“Bullshit,” spat Minene. “You fucking traitor, not that I expected anything less, but if I didn’t have nine other people around, I’d take your pretty little neck and—”

“Minene,” Rika requested quietly, tugging on the bottom of her tank top. The less-friendly terrorist clicked her tongue, crossing her arms over her chest.

“A traitor here, a traitor there,” said Izaya nonchalantly. “Honestly, so much treachery around here.” He sighed, tone dripping with mock sorrow. “Who knows? Maybe a traitor amongst our own groups, even now… Hah?” He smiled thinly.

“What’s sad is you don’t know that that’s exactly the case,” she answered.

There was an uneasy pause before Celty held down her phone to Nora again. [I’m sorry, but for now we’ll have to keep you here.]

“You can try,” she smiled, and began to glow, transforming into a blade.

“Mm?” Izaya blinked, then went dark. “Everyone out of the way,” he snapped, and everyone turned to him perplexedly until Roy barked a, “Dodge!” as the sword of Nora sped through the groups and into the woods, off to where Yato was, no doubt.

“Hah!” Having waited for this moment, A-ya bound into the air, peering with a snake’s eyes to see where the sharp light sped off to. Got it, he thought, and bolted into the woods upon his landing. A-ya was sleeping, he had been upon his retirement earlier that night. The Clearing Eyes Snake knew Yato was weak—now was the time to strike him. With the thought of Yato’s life in his hands, the snake felt A-ya’s mouth twisting in anticipation.

“A-ya! Wait!” commanded Roy, but he was already off. He frowned deeply. “That little…” he began to growl, and Izaya tilted his head at him, reminded of a certain blond protozoan. “That was terrible!

“It’s okay, Roy,” Rika assured softly.

“I don’t think that Takizawa’s coming back, at least,” added Suzuya thoughtfully. “I don’t think that he wants to see~ me~”

“But—A-ya,” said Yukiteru, panic rising. He’ll be fine. He has Aureus’s item. Yato is injured. He’ll be fine.

“Don’t worry,” grunted Roy. “I’ll get him.” And he began stalking off into the woods.

[But wait!] Celty tried, but he waved her off.

“I’ll be fine.”

[Your arm, though!] Pause. [You shouldn’t go alone!]

The last message he didn’t even look at, heading right into the woods without fear. “I don’t want anyone else putting themselves in danger!” he called. “Take care of the rest!”

Slowly, she lowered her phone, then brought her phantom hand to where her forehead would have been, shaking her helmet. She seemed to sigh.

“Yukiteru-kun?” asked Akise.

Yukki was staring off into the darkness of the wooded area, his chest tight. All he could think of was sleeping on the forest floor that night two days ago, of the feeling he’d had when he watched A-ya’s scissors come down on his own throat. The way despair had swallowed him whole in that red night—everyone is dead. He bit his lip. A-ya, please be careful.

“…Yukiteru-kun?” Akise tried again, putting a gentle hand to his shoulder.

Yukki jumped. “Huh? What? Akise-kun?”

The boy detective touched his chin. “Is it alright if I ask something?” he asked, his rose eyes focused on Yukiteru, even though the other’s blue eyes were rather distracted, looking from Akise to the woods to the raving Minene (“What a fucked up ambush that was; that dumbass military man—fuck!”) to the informant giving screwed up assurances to Celty that weren’t really working to cheer her up.

“Um…,” Yukki answered. “Sure?”

“A-ya-kun… Is he really one to sound so disgusted?” At the confused look Yukki responded with, Akise added, “It’s not that it makes any less of a good person, but I didn’t much expect him to… say, call us all idiots.”

“Oh, I don’t know…” He rubbed at the back of his head. “He was probably just tense…”

“Maybe,” Akise said thoughtfully. “But Yukiteru-kun… I’d like us to keep an eye on him.”

“But why? A-ya…” He frowned. “I trust A-ya.” Yukiteru’s tone was firm.

Curious, Akise eyed him, then smiled. “Ah… Well then, I’ll take your word on that… because I believe in you, Yukiteru-kun. Even if A-ya-kun were to make a mistake, I’d be willing to trust you in saving him.”

“…Ah…” He shifted uncomfortably.

“That’s a compliment, Yukiteru-kun,” he chuckled, and Yukki gave a half-hearted smile in answer.

“I just hope he’s okay…”

“If you trust in him to be good… for now, we can believe in him. I’m sure he’s more than capable,” he said reassuringly, and Yukiteru lightened up a bit.

“…You’re right.”

“Fine, fine, fine, Celty-san!” It was the voice of Izaya. “I’ll go after Roy and make sure he’s alright, okay? Can you at least trust me to do that much?”

Akise and Yukiteru looked over to the scene. Celty didn’t look so approving. “Looks like Izaya-san will be making his move to ‘save’ Roy-san,” said Akise. “I think he’s wondering too…”

“Wondering what?” Yukiteru tugged at the rim of his hat, brow furrowed.

“Ah, nothing…” Akise just stuck his hands in his pockets, gazing at the trees with eyes that seemed all-knowing as always. Yukiteru thought that it was the same kind of confident expression that Izaya liked to wear, too.

Among the trees, A-ya had already slowed to a stop. “Ah, that god knew to hightail it out of there…” A snicker escaped him. “…I shouldn’t go too far, now. Those idiots will wonder where I went, and Loner won’t be too pleased with me if I run away, right?” Stretching, the possessed boy stepped onto a walking path consisting of packed-in dirt and stale blood. The branches above were thin here, but not nonexistent. “Freedom is sweet…,” he murmured, savoring the moment and breathing the air, laced with the wafting scent of the dead. Drawing upon A-ya’s memory, the serpent put together that the boy Keiichi Maebara died near here.

Taking a deep breath, he spread his arms. After leaving that other body in shambles, this one feels fantastic. The corners of A-ya’s mouth curled. And admittedly… this body isn’t bad at all…

“A-ya!”

The possessed one paused, frowning a bit and turning to the spot off the trail that he’d heard the voice. Within, he felt A-ya beginning to stir from slumber. Two inconveniences at once, he thought bitterly, and watched as Roy approached from the dark, clutching at his shoulder with one eye closed. Upon approaching the dark-clad boy, the grimace left his face.

“What were you thinking?” he growled, then closed his eyes and shook his head. “Rather… That was a stupid idea. Capable or not, you shouldn’t leave your men behind; not like that.” Staring intensely into the serpent’s luminescent red eyes, Roy straightened. “Now. You have some questions that need answering.”

“Fire away,” he smirked, quirking an eyebrow.

Roy pursed his lips, then shook his head. “…What is with your attitude?” He closed his eyes tight, refraining from pinching the bridge of his nose. “Ugh… really, this injury couldn’t be more inconvenient… I swear, if this comes back with me… when I see that pipsqueak again…” He chuckled with a bit of sardonicism, and the serpentine boy watched him with an uncaring expression. “Well. A-ya, I see something going on with you.” His eyes narrowed. “But it doesn’t match up… Don’t worry. I’ll cut to the chase with the asking.”

“Oh?” A-ya answered, a flat-toned question.

“What are you hiding?” The colonel’s dark eyes were piercing. “It’s alright to tell me… you can confide. If it’s something bothering you… then that’s something I’d like to help with. If it’s something larger… understand that I know that something is very wrong here.”

A-ya’s eyes narrowed slightly, remaining otherwise neutral.

Behind a tree just off the path crept the informant Izaya, footfalls soft on the moss he treaded upon. Boy oh boy do they run fast, he thought, fighting to keep his breathing quiet. Luckily I’m quite adept at running, thanks to those games of tag I like to play with Shizu-chan… A pause. …I can’t get too close, but I can hear them fine from here. A smile touched his previously bothered face. But Roy-san seems to have beaten me to the punch, ah? This sure will be interesting…!

“There’s no need for us to fall victim to suspicion,” Roy said firmly. “I don’t wish to threaten you, and hope that there’s no reason for you to suspect me of anything other than good intent. I want to give you the benefit of the doubt, but… I don’t know what it is, but as I’ve mentioned, something is very wrong.”

There was a long pause, and Izaya strained to listen, waiting in anticipation for some kind of response. A-ya-kun… what will you do? I’ve noticed it too, you know… Something just isn’t normal about you – and I don’t mean because of that dark cape you’ve got trailing behind you. Cat ears, huh? Hehe… His mouth twitched, and then he heard something – crying? No, laughing?

A-ya had begun breathily laughing, leaning forward in his mirth until he burst with it, breaking into harsh laughter. “Fall victim to suspicion? How deliciously ironic! The scent of blood on this trail is soaked with suspicion and paranoia!” He took a step forward, trying to contain his bloodlust but oozing with it all the same. Loner, Loner… Wake up, you can’t miss this fun! A cruel chuckle rumbled in his throat. You want to feel like a king?

“A-ya,” Roy said calmly, “I’d like to rationalize this as best as possible… We need to get back to the others.”

I need to get back to others,” he corrected. “You, you might just not make it back!”

Izaya felt something tugging at his jacket, and he jumped, jerking his head to look down and find that Rika was there, gazing at him with eyes not of a child’s. Ah, it’s you. Smiling his sly smile, he put a finger to his lips in indication of their necessary silence. She nodded. Though the lack of her childish persona was ever so slightly unnerving, Izaya only found it to be rather interesting. Ah, but even a child can tell that this isn’t a good situation. Probably bad that a kid’s nearby… What’s she doing here, exactly? Worried about Roy-san, most likely. Ah, troublesome…

And said not-good situation began to evolve, for better or for worse. Eyes narrowing to slits as he readied himself, Roy prepared his bloodied hand for ignition of his flame alchemy. “Then what is it, A-ya? What are your motives? Will you at least explain yourself?”

I’m not Loner,” he scoffed.

“Then who are you?” His tone was ironically cold.

“That doesn’t matter,” A-ya grinned, “because I know the trick to your fire… and your gloves can’t work if the only one you’ve got is soaked in your own blood.” His brow creased in mock apology. “Too bad, really.”

“What, you think I’m a fool?” Roy smirked, and reached into the pocket of his pants, swiftly pulling out one of Twelve’s grenades. He’d gotten it from him earlier, asking for one ‘just in case’ as they switched shifts for the night. “This is no game, kid… Back down now.”

“…No,” the possessed one answered, looking amused.

“Then I’m sorry,” he said, bringing the pin to his teeth and biting down to pull it as the dark-clad one charged—

Izaya felt the young girl tense up, and he realized she was still clutching at the fabric of his clothing. He looked down at her blankly, unsure of how to take it. His mouth twitched. The scene was getting interesting behind him.

Roy lifted his left leg and kicked at A-ya as the Colonel pulled the pin, but the serpentine one caught his foot and twisted, breaking his leg with ease.

Roy!” cried Rika, releasing Izaya. She ran for the trail, leaving the informant frozen. He didn’t notice he was holding his breath.

So much for being quiet, he remarked to himself. He could still hear his heart beating in his ears, not that it was only Rika that had startled him… No, this entire scene was filling him with adrenaline! Any fatigue earned from the battle just had with Seidou dissipated. What a scene this is coming out to be. I didn’t even have to do anything!

“Rika, get out of here!” Roy commanded desperately, getting thrown to the ground in his distraction.

That didn’t sound good.

“…Ah?” The possessed one turned his head to look at her in delight.

“That’s not A-ya.” Rika’s tone was lowered again, but this time her presence itself began to shift, as though she was now no longer a polite ten-year-old child but a force to be reckoned with. “It’s a demon that needs to be cast out.

A demon… hah? Is this one we knew about, by chance? Izaya, his amused expression wiped clean, closed his eyes and began piecing things together. Could it be…? Hm… He felt a tremor threatening to sweep over him – he, too, could feel the shift in atmosphere. It was not just Rika herself… that felt like a surreal gust of hot summer wind that warmed the blood. There was another entity, too, that felt as ice would to the soul. Izaya conjectured that it was ‘A-ya’ emanating that feeling. It was one that Izaya had experienced before, admittedly…

“A demon,” Roy repeated, then grimaced as A-ya’s position shifted so his knee was digging into the Colonel’s broken leg. He hissed in pain.

Rika stood strong, her tone low, eyes dark. “You are the traitor that Nora spoke of, aren’t you? Release Roy.”

“Rika, back up,” Roy said, holding tight to the spoon on the grenade. If I release this button, then I just have to keep A-ya close for four seconds, according to Twelve… I’ll blow us both to smithereens, if I have to. But Rika…

“I know you still have that bomb on you,” the possessed one answered. “Don’t you worry about that. But you shouldn’t kill me, because Loner… the one that is your teammate, is still alive. If you kill me, you kill him.

“Someone who has been possessed… I may not have ever been around such a situation,” Roy answered coolly, “…but if one bargains their soul, their fate is sealed. If you can possess him as you are, A-ya is already dead. I didn’t want to think as much… but if I let you return, you’ll only be a danger to everyone there. I’m sure,” he smirked, “that A-ya would want it so he doesn’t harm anyone.”

A-ya’s body trembled in unbearable mirth.

“Roy, there’s no need to sacrifice yourself,” said Rika, her tone holding a trace of fatigued desperation.

“I’m a soldier,” he said, then glanced over at her with reassuring eyes. “We put our lives on the line every day for the sake of others. It’s alright, Rika—I don’t mind.”

Rika’s brow creased. She felt the god tied to her by spirit – Hanyuu – wringing her wrists, levitating behind her like a shadow. Roy, you don’t understand… People have died for me more times than I can even count anymore… It’s me who minds. I’m sick of people dying… let alone for my sake.

“Run,” said Roy. “Make it.” He depleted the oxygen surrounding him and A-ya to the point of dizziness – he felt his head spinning, but also felt A-ya’s grip on his shoulders loosen.

Wh…?”

“How do you think I take aim with my flame alchemy?” Roy smiled. “I can manipulate the air around us at will… Hah.”

Izaya remained behind his tree, waiting with bated breath. Do I intervene at this point? It’s already a mess – I won’t be able to make it any better… and there’s no point in making it worse…

Roy released the spoon.

Izaya thought, What a show.

The serpent ignored the darkness spotting his vision and smiled as Roy shoved the bomb at his dark-clad chest, hooking his good leg behind A-ya’s knees. The demon felt A-ya’s consciousness spreading in confused awareness. Four seconds, huh? he thought within the first.

At the second, he jerked backwards, taking the grenade with one hand and shoving his other into Roy’s chest as he threw the bomb into the air as high as he could with the lack of air. If one thing’s inconvenient, it’s the human requirements of this body— He couldn’t tell how high he’d thrown it, but he gave Roy a jolt that same moment. Out of his peripheral vision, he caught Rika’s movement to his left. Roy gasped at the shock.

Third second, he somersaulted over the Colonel’s head so that he was crouching just behind him with his cold hand on his throat. Rika was running for A-ya now.

Fourth second, the bomb exploded in the air as Rika did a running jump with every intent of stopping the demon from hurting Roy further—she came down on him as the shockwave hit them, but the possessed one merely batted her away as though she were a fly. She gasped as she hit a tree bordering the trail.

“At least,” said Roy with a satisfied smile, “I won’t have gone down without a fight.”

At these words, A-ya’s body was ignited, alight with the power of the explosion in the sky. The fourteen-year-old human within the dark-clad hero awoke to fiery agony, and a scream ripped from his throat, leaving him defenseless as the snake seized back his control, seeping with darkness and turning the heat into ice.

You bastard,” the dark-clad demon hissed, raising his hand and striking Roy with lightning that came down the color red but emanated an eerie yellow. In outrage, he gripped Roy’s electrified body, sending impulses through him and upping the voltage as the Colonel’s smile collapsed into the uncontrollable shuddering of electrocution. The demon threw him down to the dirt – A-ya was frozen within him with the rush of adrenaline rushing through his soul—he was buzzing, electric!

I’m going to kill Roy, he realized fearfully, but the ecstasy of the demon paralyzed him as his mouth twisted grotesquely into a distorted grin. A-ya felt his own arms ripping Roy’s already-broken leg from his body as though he were tearing into meat nonchalantly for a meal. A-ya could vaguely feel Rika’s horrified gaze directly on him. He wanted to tell her to please stop it, but his mouth would not obey him. His body was not his own. His hands had not been this shade of red since… since…

Roy felt the same, the electricity leaving him numb, his vision flashing and blinding – he couldn’t see anything. My eyes… my—eyes…! He thought that his other leg had parted company from his core, but his nerves were so frazzled from the lightning that he couldn’t tell for sure. If my leg really is gone… I swear to god, this is just funny, in a really twisted way…

With finality, the dark-clad demon kicked Roy in the side, turning him over onto his back and bringing his hand to the Colonel’s chest. “Die,” he said gleefully, and sent an impulse that shocked his heart to the point of halting. He died with a vague smile still touching his lips. His dark, piercing eyes were no more; now milky, wide open and blank.

From gazing at the torn-up body of Roy Mustang, the demon’s gaze shifted to Rika, who sat with her back to the tree she’d been thrown into, her eyes dulling from horror to sorrow. “Why, again…?” she murmured, and the serpent straightened, smiling with cold sweetness down at her.

You are accustomed to tragedy,” he said, his chest filling with icy excitement. A-ya consciousness curled further within. He didn’t want to look. The serpentine eyes glimmered as Rika gazed back darkly. “I can sense it, you know… You may not be of my own realm, but you, too, have seen the same tragedy repeat itself again and again.” His eyes narrowed happily. “You have that power inside you… the power of ‘meeting eyes.’ The power to reset. You’re perhaps not on the level of my Master… the new Medusa… but the feeling is similar. Where, I wonder, does your power stem from?

“Whereas you… A-ya… are now the vessel to a demon,” Rika answered, her voice almost not her own, “…I was born as the ‘vessel’ to a god.” The lavender-haired goddess revealed herself, then, hovering beside Rika with worried but angry violet eyes that glowed in the night just the same as the serpent’s did, though it was her pupils that shone red in the dark. Horns grew down from her head, covering her ears. Her traditional-style clothing was red and white. The young goddess was glaring at the serpent. Rika closed her eyes. “…So, you’re not wrong.”

The demon laughed in joyous sadism. “I’m sure that such a power is stunted in a place like this, but it doesn’t deny the fact that you are the Queen of your realm’s tragedy.” His grin spread further, his eyes widening. “I’ll call you a princess, in that sense. The Princess of Tragedy—I like that, yes… You, who can’t stand the thought of living without your friends…” He laughed derisively. “You, who have been tied down by the petty thing humans call ‘love’! When really… you’re destined to be a monster, aren’t you?

“A monster…,” she repeated distantly.

“Don’t talk to Rika like that,” the goddess said, tone threatening, and Rika lifted the knife she’d been given as her weapon at the beginning of her game. She gazed at it in contemplation while the goddess stiffened. “R-Rika…,” began the deity nervously, and the serpent snickered.

What a pathetic god,” he remarked with harsh amusement. “What do you expect to do with that knife, Princess? You can’t hurt me. Go on and try…

“No,” Rika answered, getting to her feet and stepping back a step so that the tree was at her side. “People like you… are the reason there is no happy ending. You’ve set up what can only be a bad end… I don’t want to watch you tear everyone else apart.” She pressed the hilt to the trunk so that the blade was at her temple. “I want no part of it. I see no reason to give you the opportunity to torture me in that way.”

“Rika-chan—do you—d-do you r-really need to go on and do something—something like that…?” stammered the goddess. “I-I don’t want you to…! Au, au—uauauuu!” she wailed in panic.

The Clearing Eyes Snake was admittedly surprised, his eyes wide. “Ah, really… You’d give your own life?

“If anyone else knows that you’re not A-ya…” Rika closed her eyes. “I hope they tell the others.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” cried Izaya, coming out from behind his tree and walking up to the path nonchalantly. He released a heavy sigh while the goddess jumped, hiding her face behind her hands while Rika looked at the informant as though he were crazy. The dark-clad demon looked at Izaya without much surprise, quirking an eyebrow. “Now, A-ya-kun,” he said, leaning casually against the other side of the tree that Rika had the knife pressed to. “…I have to say!” He raised a hand in a half-shrug, closing his eyes. “I may not be cruel enough to take someone’s life with my own hands… but I’m also not kind enough to stop someone from dying if they want to.” He glanced over at Rika, who just kinda stared at him blankly. Hanyuu the goddess peeked out from behind her fingers to see him, and he shot her a closed-eye grin that made her squeak frightfully before he turned to the possessed one, smile wiped clean again. “You know that already… don’t you, Kuroha-san?”

The serpent smirked, releasing a little heh.Well, Liar? What will you do about me being here, hah?

“Well, I’m actually rather thrilled!” he exclaimed. “To think, a demon was working with us! Doesn’t that also mean that I fought alongside you? I have to admit, I’m a little bit honored. Not only is Celty the Dullahan in my midst, but also ‘Kuroha’ the demon?” The other’s red eyes flickered, just barely discernable. “You know—it’s kind of funny,” he added, grinning at the bemused serpent. “Though you’re undercover now… before you possessed A-ya-kun, you managed to make a new ‘demon,’ a new monster—you know? That god… the one who killed Sebastian? He’s the new ‘power player’ everyone’s worried about now. All because you got little Yukine-kun killed… Ah, but that’s not what we’re talking about, is it? You just don’t want to die; you don’t want to cease to exist… I don’t hate that.” He shrugged again. “I mean, you could kill me here, but why? You think I’m going to blow your cover? No way! I want this information under my belt—I’d love to have someone as powerful as you on my side! I could, what, let slip to the others that you’re possessed? Why would I do that? To watch all Hell break loose?” He released a bark of laughter. “As fun as that would be, I’d prefer to keep this secret to myself.”

You’re a fool as well as a liar,” Saeru scoffed, and Izaya smiled thinly.

“Don’t underestimate me… I mean, I have to thank you—because of you, I have this nifty little sword that Yoh-kun left behind. My greatest concern right now is Yato. Who says I can’t make a team with you?” He spread his arms. “So long as we share common interests, there’s no worrying about that. And as long as Yato has Nora, he can kill you just like he killed Sebastian…” He closed his eyes with a smug little smile. “I mean, granted, I wouldn’t want to be considered a puppet to you. That’s just something I don’t want to deal with. You’d have to make some sacrifices, but I’d say it’s worth it for the sake of your ultimate goal of existence… for our common interests of Nora’s extermination, of finding the game masters, and so on and so forth…” He beamed childishly. “And I expect to be able to have a nice little chat with A-ya-kun every so often, too! In fact, I’m sure he can hear me.”

Izaya paused, then shifted expression to one of seriousness. “…Also, I’d suggest not going on and killing too many people like this. If you’re so excited to find your ‘princess,’ she’s going to end up leaving pretty quick if you go on killing everyone – as you just saw… Besides, if you have to coexist with A-ya-kun, I’m sure he doesn’t want someone like Yukiteru-kun finding out, and all this… Well, you’re making it just a little too obvious, eh? You know and I know that people are noticing something’s wrong. Even if I hadn’t come out here, I probably would have figured it out pretty soon… and I’m sure others are getting there too.” His eyes narrowed. “You’re playing a dangerous game, here, Kuroha-san… You don’t want to end up dying again, do you?”

The possessed one’s head lowered in irritation.

“I didn’t think so. So I’d suggest that we all just leave this be, what do you say, hm? You don’t need Rika-chan dead, since the idea of her tragedy is just too enticing for you to turn down, right? And as for myself… well, I’m just rather excited about this turn of events! It’s not like I’m against you.” He grinned a closed-eye Izaya grin. “In fact, I’m sure A-ya-kun feels the same way, dealing with a demon.”

A-ya’s mouth twitched, and the dark-clad demon began to laugh cruelly before he lowered his head, expression shrouded. He began to tremble visibly before his legs gave out beneath him, a shudder coursing through him as he pressed his palms to the blood-stained dirt he knelt upon in a dark-clad heap of shock and horror. “It… yeah, you’re… not wrong…,” A-ya said shakily.

Rika stared blankly, her firm grip on the orange handle of the knife coming undone. Her fingers loosened, and she felt different kind of tremor through her. Relief? Ah…

“Rika, he…,” said Hanyuu, and she blinked as Rika dropped the knife. “Ah—is it that…?”

“Ah, A-ya-kun, you’re back,” Izaya beamed.

“I… I’m so…” A-ya’s eyes were shadowed but wide as dinner plates. “S…sorry… I… I, ki… I… ki…”

“You didn’t kill him, A-ya-kun. It wasn’t you,” Izaya said calmly. He looked over at Rika. “Rika-chan, I wouldn’t give up yet. There’s no use in doing that, is there? Rika-chan… understand that everyone has to lose people. There’s a tragedy hidden in everyone’s story, somewhere or another. If you don’t like something that’s happened, well, you have to work with it anyway! Don’t go on thinking it’s useless just because one good piece has left the board… There are others—don’t forget, you’re not alone or anything like that, no, not at all! And if it’s A-ya-kun you’re mourning, look here.” He held out his hand to A-ya, such an informal and everyday gesture after such a scene.

A-ya stared at the offering for a few moments before taking it, though quivering. Izaya helped him to his feet.

“See, Rika-chan?” he smiled thinly, and she stumbled weakly forward, only to end up sitting there on the ground, staring up at the informant without expression.

“You don’t know… exactly how many times I’ve lost the same people,” she said, tone dead. “You don’t understand… how long I went before I gave up the first time. No, but you couldn’t understand that sort of thing…”

“Don’t poke at Rika,” warned the goddess. “Child of Man, I expect that you won’t take lightly the situation in which you’ve placed yourself…”

“It’s alright, Hanyuu,” Rika said, an ironic smile touching her lips. A dark laugh escaped her, and Izaya blinked, curious. “I’m actually rather glad…” She got back to her feet, her expression one of sly amusement. Her childish exterior had been removed; the true Rika emerged from the wraps of deceit. Aged beyond her years – the result of endless time loops; a repeating tragedy much like the one Kuroha, Saeru had created… much like the one A-ya had experienced, though he couldn’t remember like she could. “At this point, if something changes… for good or for bad, I want to see it, as long as it isn’t the same thing again. Even if this all turns out to be just another tragedy… as long as it isn’t boring…”

Izaya laughed. “So that’s how it is, Rika-chan! I’m glad we’ve come to an understanding!”

“Riiika…,” protested Hanyuu, brow furrowed.

“But, for now, we should make our way back to the others,” Izaya smiled, putting one hand on A-ya’s shoulder, the other on Rika’s. “Roy-san was killed by Yato, okay? I’m sure that’s the story that all of us want to go with, here, hm?”

“…Yes…,” agreed A-ya, following Izaya’s lead as the three of them began slowly walking back into the forest. He fought the urge to look back at Roy. Behind them, the goddess named Hanyuu followed along. A-ya’s ears were ringing.

“So, what’s this Hanyuu thing about, Rika-chan?” asked Izaya brightly. “I’ve never seen her before… What secrets have you got? I wonder, care to share any related legends, you two? It’d also be pretty useful to know her abilities right now…”

“That, is so…,” admitted Rika, beginning to regain her childish exterior.

Ah… legends, thought A-ya, shoving down the lingering feelings of murder that Saeru still had running through him. It felt disgusting to him. He thought of the milky white of Roy’s eyes, or how it felt to rip off his leg… He needed to stop, or he may vomit.

Like that night… when, C-ta…

He felt the informant squeeze his shoulder as if to say, ‘Stop that.’ Though he glanced up at Izaya, the man was just looking at Rika as she spoke. Gradually, A-ya tuned back into the conversation and heard Rika explaining the legends of a goddess everyone called Oyashiro-sama – that is, Hanyuu. With murder mysteries and rumors of the occult deeply enmeshed in the tale, it was just A-ya’s style. Eventually, he was able to get out of his head.

The odd trio (plus Hanyuu—odd quartet) took their time getting back, having an enjoyable (if twisted) conversation the whole way. Apparently, they all got along just fine: a timid goddess who only had the courage to observe as her transparent self; a ten-year-old who’d lived over a century that knew all the ins and outs of all of the legends of her village, seeing as she was the heir to the all-important Furude Shrine; a fourteen-year-old obsessed with the occult (the demon possessing him listening in cruel amusement as they all conversed); and at last, an informant whose ultimate hobby was playing puppeteer. Izaya had actually defused the situation rather nicely, if just a little bit late.

Who would’ve guessed?

 

Notes:

I hope you've enjoyed this week's chapter! As a heads up, I will unfortunately be unable to update next week. However, updates will resume as normal afterwards. Thank you for reading!

Chapter 58: Past

Chapter Text

Seidou, Owl, took refuge in a factory building, full of only grey. He couldn’t enter any of the shops. He couldn’t enter any of the residential houses. He couldn’t take it. He conjectured somewhere in his scattered thoughts that maybe he just couldn’t stand the colors.

Thus, the factory—wide open… void of color… away from the everyday. Something like ‘civilian life’ was far beyond him nowadays.

‘Nowadays.’

He almost laughed. Almost. To think, he’d only been here… how long? He didn’t know. He couldn’t piece together the time frame.

Mindlessly, he chewed on the arm of the military man. He didn’t like his outfit. He didn’t like his fire. I bet the system he’s pledged allegiance to is fucked up, he thought bitterly. But really the fire bothered him most.

He tried to piece together some sort of meaning behind the fight he’d just had, but then he thought of Suzuya and decided he didn’t really want to think too much on it. He sat in one of the corners on ground level, nestling himself there. All his focus was directed to the man in the military outfit. He decided he hated the man.

He seemed like… a good leader. He discarded the remains of the officer’s arm, no more than bones and torn fabric. That part… that part is alright.

Closing his eyes, he hunched forward, curling with his knees close to his head and his tightly furled fingers pressed against his eyelids.

I don’t like it.” It was a statement that he choked out quietly. No one heard him. No one was there to.

It was a feeling he was getting – a fiery feeling, something like poison that made his eyeballs burn in their sockets, made him feel as though he needed to rip open his ribcage just to feel like he could breathe.

It was an unpleasant feeling.

I’m not supposed to feel things like that anymore, he thought. I’m not supposed to feel anything at all. I’m done with that. I’m done with it. I’m done. It’s done. It doesn’t hurt anymore. It doesn’t. It doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t, no, doesn’t hurt; doesn’t hurt.

Yes, this wasn’t right at all. He’d long since abandoned such things as pain, as loss, as ‘regret.’ Give back the empty night! Give back the blissful blanket of sweet despair! Take me back to where I’m comfortable…

Someone had been following him: a ghost. He’d first seen the apparition in his fight with Kaneki, that was right… Upon the shriveling of his kakuja armor, upon waking up from blind blackout to some form of coherence, he’d seen him. Standing behind the wall of glass was the twenty-two-year-old image of an investigator with brown hair, his stature one of thick fear as he stared right back at the wraith now known as Seidou Takizawa. Owl. And Seidou knew, he knew that he was staring at himself – it was the man he used to be staring back at him. It was the Seidou Takizawa that he had killed—he shouldn’t be following him around! He couldn’t!

Because I already killed that son of a bitch.

Loosening his hands over his eyes, he hooked his fingers at his lower eyelids and peered into the dark grey.

No one is here. No one else.

The dead man had been with the groups he just hit, too, yeah, hiding in the flames or standing beside Izaya Orihara. Guarding the good-smelling spirit girl with the military man.

Seidou’s eyes flickered. There. There he was, sitting with his back against the old and inactive conveyor belt. He was wearing that old blue suit, torn and bloody. The jacket was missing. The brown hair that he’d parted down the middle was short and rather mussed, sticking out here and there as though he hadn’t brushed it in some time. His brown eyes were staring back at the Owl, rather piercing despite the fact his image was one of transparency. They were wide orbs, the whites of them showing with the lower lids blackened with fatigue. He was the picture of weariness.

The half-ghoul was caught in his gaze, incapable of movement. His breath had left him. If it weren’t for you… If you were gone, surely I wouldn’t feel this way. I bet, I bet if I got rid of you then this would be fine and I would be fine and I could burn down all the memories of you, leave you charred into an ugly black so that I can’t go back I won’t go back I won’t say sorry it wasn’t me it’s not my fault it isn’t it’s not—

The apparition tilted his head slightly, brow creasing, mouth upturning in something reminiscent of sorrow. “…Scary,” he commented, and the Owl flinched.

I feel no fear now. His mouth twitched. The thought occurred to him that there was no such thing as courage without fear, but he only answered such a musing with, Who needs courage when you’re fearless?

He remembered how the fear had consumed him; how it ran through his veins and ate him from the inside out. Through that fear he had emerged as the monster he was now, emerged wrapped in darkness. Through that fear he had sold his soul out of desperation. Through that fear he had had killed that poor bastard named Seidou Takizawa.

Become what you’re afraid of, and fear will fade. He knew that now he was everything he once hated. That was why he was convinced he was an entirely different person. He could not piece together one with the other. How could he? The Seidou in the past would never, not ever become a ghoul. He’d never, not ever kill a human being, let alone enjoy it. He would never, not ever eat even Mom, blackout or not.

Seidou Takizawa couldn’t handle these things, so eventually he stopped handling them at all. He felt too much until he couldn’t anymore. Now he was true emptiness. Visceral gratification. A shadow self that knew no boundaries. But he wouldn’t dare think on the life he once had, the people he once knew, the man he once was. He couldn’t. He couldn’t. It was too much.

 “…Ah,” began the apparition, and the Owl twitched. The transparent figure was bowing his head. “I can’t… wake up.”

“Go away,” the Owl said flatly. “You shouldn’t be here… You’re dead. I killed you.”

Drily, the apparition laughed a pained chuckle that only served to anger the Owl.

“I’ll kill you again if I have to,” he growled, and the ghost quieted. “I’ll do it again and again—how dare you; how dare you. Don’t mock me!” Tired and injured and unstable, Seidou shouted into empty factory. With a mad yell, he flew into a rampage, tearing apart the inside of the building, ripping apart machinery and railings and shelves and the like until at last he could rest in the rubble for the last remaining hours of the night.


Roppi sat outside one of the smaller buildings in the southern part of the city, looking out into the night with introspective red eyes. Konoha had brought up just about every food place they passed, so at last Roppi had caved and told him to just get something already so that they could get moving without distractions. The eastern sky was beginning to just barely glow, and he thought, It’s almost dawn.

Granted, he knew he should probably rest up at some point. He was beginning to feel the dull ache of exhaustion now that he was sitting still. Sighing, he got to his feet, preparing to pace back and forth until Konoha made it back out. “Don’t wanna sleep,” he mumbled to himself, rubbing at his arm restlessly. No, he couldn’t rest knowing that he was leaving Kaneki and Seidou in the waking world… not as they were. It’s my mess. I’ll fix it. I’ll fix what I’ve done.

He sighed heavily, pressing the palm of his good hand to his eyelid. The hand that had been pierced by Izaya was throbbing dully, like some sort of tired alarm trying to constantly remind him that there was something wrong with it. As if he didn’t know by now. It was great being able to use both arms, though, and pain was something he was accustomed to anyway. No point in complaining about it now, he thought flatly.

Ah, he said he wanted to fix everything, but what worth were his words until he actually accomplished something? I hate broken promises, he thought bitterly, and felt something knotting up inside, the gnarled roots of his negativity threatening to pierce and leech off of his newfound determination.

I’ll fix it. I’ll bring them back, just like Shintaro brought me back.

“Easier said than done,” he breathed, and leaned against the wall of the building, closing his eyes. If I don’t succeed, I have no right to return to the others. I shouldn’t have dragged Konoha into this mess… He shouldn’t have to deal with it.

…Speaking of which, how long is that android going to take just to grab some food? He brought a hand to his face, this time out of annoyance. He began to retreat further into himself, swept up in his own thoughts. Ah, hurry up…

“Waiting for Konoha?” A voice out of nowhere.

Roppi jerked in surprise, eyes flashing as he went into immediate fighting stance. Who?

Before him was a girl in her teens that looked to be just a bit younger than him. Half of her violet-haired head was shaved to mere fuzz, the other half swept to the side to cover her right eye.

“Who the fuck are you?” he asked, tone taut. He heard his own heartbeat. His machine gun was at the bench just a few paces to his left. If he could just reach it…! Where’s that stupid android when you need him?!

“Roppi, calm down,” said the unidentified one, wringing her wrists uncomfortably. A baggy grey hoodie adorned her torso, the fabric ripped in a few scattered places. She stepped forward, black boots sounding oddly heavy on the concrete. She sported worn black skinny jeans.

“Like hell I’ll calm down,” he said, eyes wide and quivering. Something was very wrong with this. The atmosphere had shifted drastically in just a moment. How did she sneak up on me like that? Is she one of the new female gamers? Is she some other weird species I don’t know? He felt his skin crawl under her gaze, and he couldn’t even tell why. Her eyes peered into his core; he could feel it. It was terrifying. He, like Izaya, was someone who read other people, not the other way around.

“Roppi,” she repeated, a note of sadness in her voice.

She acts like I’m supposed to listen to her.

She took another step, and he bolted to the side, freeing himself from his frozen state and going straight for the machine gun.

“Konoha! Get your ass out here!” he called, and reached for his weapon only to have her hand swipe at his. The next moment, he found himself with his back to the wall, her hand pressed firmly to his mouth.

“He won’t come until we’re done,” she said lowly. “That’s how this works.”

His red eyes were filled with a mix of anger, shock, and frustration. What the fuck is this? No doubt, she’s insanely fast…

“You can’t escape me,” she smiled, a teasing spark in her all-seeing eyes. “Maybe you can accept me, but you can never get away.”

One of my arms is still free, maybe if… the blade…?

“You don’t want to stab me with that,” she warned, then broke up into a spell of hysterical giggling. “No, no, don’t wanna do that.”

…What the fuck…

“Didn’t Aureus tell you?”

Aureus? His gut was screaming at him to get away or kick her ass. A game master…?

“Yeah, that’s right. I’m a game master,” she agreed.

Can she read my mind? Because I swear to god…

“I can,” she confirmed. “Now, if I let go of you, will you stay put and stay quiet? You don’t want to cut me with the Harrowing Blade… You don’t want to kill me, because I’m one of the game masters against the game. I’m trying to help you. Okay? I know you don’t want help, but that means you need it more. Right?”

Angrily, he shoved her hand from his mouth, taking a gasp of air and snapping in growling tones, “How the fuck are you expected to help me?”

“I’m not expected to,” she answered easily. “I just want to… And in fact, Muse is probably going to kind of annoyed with me for doing this,” she added with a sly grin. “Oh well!”

Muse… that’s the one that Aureus said…

“…Was your target; that’s right,” she nodded, then held out her hand. “I’m Seraph.” An oddly sad, gentle smile crossed her features. “It’s nice to… finally meet you.”

He squinted suspiciously at her hand, then took it, very cautious. “Um… Roppi,” he uttered.

“I know,” Seraph chirped, and he twitched. “We have to be a little quick, because I don’t want Muse or anyone stopping me right before I do what I’m trying to.”

“What… are you trying to do?” he asked tentatively, wishing to back up but realizing the wall was at his back.

“I’ll explain,” she said shortly. “That Harrowing Blade… you’ve cut Light and Kaneki with it.” Roppi refrained from flinching, his jaw set. “There’s a way to reverse its effects.” His crimson eyes widened, and she took him by the shoulders. Her hands weighed on him like stones. “I want Kaneki to be okay, too… And the fact that you’ve come as far as you have… I want to help you out a little bit. The way things are going, the reverse effect is likely to be demonstrated to you in the near future. I think that Kaneki’s Harrowed blood will be purified before you can reach him. That’s fine. It doesn’t have to be your responsibility… Just, find him. Bring him back to your groups. Okay?”

Roppi nodded numbly. Is that really something… that…?

“You just need to know that you can be there for him, okay, Roppi?” Seraph tilted her head, smiling sheepishly. “Even though you’re used to being the one in the low… it doesn’t mean that you can’t help others once you’ve found your footing. Understand? If he is purified… when he is purified… knowing Kaneki, he’ll beat himself up about it. What you do will either make him or break him… Don’t worry,” she said in answer to his horrified look, “…you won’t be the only one.”

“But I’m an asshole,” he shot back, his tone raised in something close to hysteria. “If he depends on my comfort, what if I fuck up? Huh? I’ve done nothing but fuck up this whole time.

“You’ve come some way, I think,” she said quietly, closing her eyes. “It will be the test you wanted… so that you can learn to love yourself; feel like you deserve it. Feel like you’re worth saving – which you are. What you do on that path is something that you need to choose, but…” She beamed warmly at him. “I think you can make the right choice.”

He squinted at her. “I… I don’t know that I…”

“Kaneki isn’t the only one you’re after, of course,” Seraph continued, holding up a slim finger. “There’s also Seidou. Ah…” She paused, looking down. “Seidou’s sweet,” she murmured, and Roppi’s brow furrowed in a mix of shame, regret, and grief. “The way he is now… yeah, you can save him. I should have every ability to help him, too.” She looked at her hands. “He’s had a few chances now. But every time, Muse vetoes me. Muse and Durden both, they won’t let him get better. He can’t get better so long as they don’t want him to.” She looked at Roppi with narrowed eyes, gaze intense. “That isn’t fair. But things need to get worse before they get better, right? You know that, too. So listen. They’ve got him in a set path towards his own personal hell. But they can’t stop an already-set-up rule that they’ve put in place, and I want you to send it back at them. If it doesn’t work, then it’s not your fault. At that point it’s out of your hands, and if Seidou chooses wrong, then his sins will come crashing down on him.”

“What—kind of game is this?” Roppi questioned her. She laughed happily.

“It’s the Emina Games, that’s all… Entertainment. A game. That’s it. I can’t go any further than that.” He continued to stare at her with all his skepticism, and she sighed. “That Harrowing Blade that Aureus gave you… it draws out the worst in someone when you draw their blood. When that happens, there is one thing that can break its effects… I’m not allowed to tell you straight out what it is, unfortunately, but if you can figure that out… If Seidou, for example, were to be Harrowed and then purified… the game masters would no longer be able to hold Seidou to the fate they have set for him. They couldn’t justify that anymore. At that point, it would be all Seidou’s decisions… and that’s the way it should be.”

“So you’re saying that I can reverse the effects of the Harrowing Blade,” he said flatly.

“Yes.”

“But you can’t tell me how.”

“…Yes.”

“And you want me to stab Seidou with this thing… when he already seems to be pretty fucking bad right now, seeing as he’s going around eating dead bodies and attacking people at random.”

Seraph bit her lip, pausing. She then shrugged apologetically with a weak smile. “It… gets worse before it gets better?”

Roppi scoffed.

“I’m hoping you can catch a hint on the cure if Kaneki is purified… Greyson and Rainbow are the ones that veto the Harrowing Blade’s effects. They represent something very important…”

“I’m betting you can’t tell me what, though,” he said dully.

“Um, yeah, you’re right.”

“Great.” He sighed sharply.

“Ah!” She’d seemed to have had a burst of enlightenment. Roppi looked at her again. “Aureus told you about the whole symbolism thing, right?”

“Symbolism?” he repeated. He kept bringing it up, but…

“What a boob,” she huffed, rolling her eyes. “Aureus represents symbolism. Yeah.”

“Aureus… is symbolism,” he reiterated skeptically, brow furrowed.

“Yeah, he’s kinda weird, but none of us are really not weird,” Seraph shrugged. “All of us are unique!” she cried in delight, then spun around on the heel of her boot, throwing her hand into the air gracefully as she laughed like a child.

Roppi decided to ignore the little twirl. “If he’s symbolism… then what are you?”

“Hm? I guess I can tell you that,” she said, putting a finger to her lips and leaning towards him. “I’m really not all that important… well… actually, I kinda am.”

He drew his lips into a thin line.

She closed her eyes, straightening back up and spreading her arms in presentation. “I am depth. Each backstory, however cruel or naïve, is there for a reason. It makes you real. I am character development. Without me, you and everyone else, you would all be flat. Generic. Just a doodle on a page. No connection. No reason.” Her eyes opened again, expression apologetic. “Roppi, without me, you wouldn’t have a past. I know it’s not a pleasant one, but—”

“You’re telling me that you’re the reason my mother was the way she was,” Roppi said, tone strained.

“…But if it weren’t for that past, you would be solely bitterness. No breakthrough. No progression. Just bitter – poison to the bone. That, or…” She paused. Then, “Roppi, I came to you now because I think you’re close enough to accepting that past,” she pressed, brow furrowed in empathy. He quieted, swallowing uncomfortably. “I know it sucks – trust me, I know it does… But if you were bitter for no reason at all, wouldn’t that be worse? Because giving you a past, it gives you hope for the future.”

Hope? He thought to himself that such a word was one he hadn’t used often in his time being alive. He’d been convinced it didn’t exist, though every so often he thought he saw a glimmer of it, with Tsuki at his side.

A sharp pang of loss hit him, and he bit his cheek to maintain monotonous irritation.

That was when Seraph hugged him – he tried to jerk away, but found that her embrace wrapped around and around, into his chest, into his head. He was frozen in place, his spirit held captive in Seraph’s desperate attempt to reach out to him.

“I know you don’t know me, but I know you,” she murmured, and it was as though time had overlapped itself: Seraph was embracing someone no more than a child, yet to know the taste of bitter despair. Yes, in her arms was the child that Roppi was no more, a person left behind, forgotten in the folds of memory. “I know Tsuki is gone. I’m sorry… I didn’t want anyone dragged into this. I don’t want you here. I don’t want A-ya here. I don’t want Suzuya here. I don’t want Hide here. I’m tired of this game. I—can’t do it anymore. Though… I, am glad to have seen you.”

“But—why?” he got out. Roppi didn’t know whether to panic or relax. He felt vulnerable. Exposed.

“…Why am I glad to see you?”

“Ah—yeah.”

“Well, I know you pretty well, Roppi.” She pulled away, and he felt at last as though he could breathe again. The moment ended, and Seraph stood before the struggling nineteen-year-old that Roppi was now. He felt as though she just gave a hug not to his body, but his soul. It was a very creepy feeling. His skin was crawling again, even though admittedly he felt rather cold upon her leave. Her hands still gripped his shoulders tightly, heavy like the weight of his regret. “And I like the person you are,” she smiled. “I like the person you could be.”

“Which one?” he snipped, tense, and she pursed her lips in disapproval.

“The best one. The best of you.”

“And what of the worst of me?”

She shrugged. “Everyone has a bad part. And all of us are just gonna think that our own bad part’s worse than the next person.”

Roppi blinked at her, brow creased. “And what if I told you that I don’t want to deal with my past? What if I told you I’m not ready to ‘accept’ it? What I told you that I’ll never ‘accept’ it, because life sucks and it wasn’t fair? What if I told you that I hate you for giving me this bullshit? Huh?”

Her hands released him, much to his relief and regret. Seraph bowed her head. “Well… people want to do that all the time, right?” she asked lowly. “So many people hate me for that reason. So many don’t want to look at me. Don’t want to…” She looked at him with those vaguely despairing eyes again. “I just want to be looked at… You know?”

He gazed back, unable to keep that fire he had moments ago. He thought of his mother’s hazy eyes, peering at him without any trace of sobriety. As though they didn’t recognize him, not quite.

“…I—know,” he answered, discomfort thick in his lungs.

“And even if you were to hate me… Hah.” Her tone lowered, and she took a step back. “I’d just laugh it off like always. Like a lot of the people in this stupid game do. But in the end, I already said… you can’t escape me. You can’t get rid of me. You can reject me, but you’ll never get away!” Her tone was rising in tension. “But—ah…” She deflated, stretching her fingers apart as she relaxed. “…That’s not the way to do things, or you end up falling apart. I learned that.” And she laughed heartily.

Roppi stared, speechless.

“That’s all I can really give you right now, though, Roppi,” she said apologetically. “Konoha will come back out soon… Heh. I love him, too. I hope you do well… no, I know you will.” Seraph smiled warmly at him, and Roppi thought to himself that such a smile was one that only Tsuki would give him. Suddenly he felt his chest threatening to collapse under the heaviness of his longing. He opened his mouth, but had nothing to say. “Good luck, Roppi,” she murmured, and began backing up, clasping her hands behind her back.

“Ah… wait—” he began, and the sound of the building’s opening door cut him off. Roppi turned to see Konoha, carrying an abundance of food that nearly went over his android head. His brow furrowed in question, but then he jerked his head to look at where Seraph had been. What was before him was only sidewalk and an empty street. …She’s gone, he thought, unsure how to feel about the whole encounter.

“I got food…” Konoha tilted his head around the pile of food to look at Roppi, who frowned deeply at him.

Why did you grab that much food, Konoha?” he asked dully.

“I thought I’d grab some for you, too,” he answered quietly, expressionless as always. His head tilted further. “Half of it is yours.”

The bitter one ran a hand through his hair, annoyed. “I don’t need that much, Konoha.”

“Ah, but we can eat together, right?”

“I’m not hungry…”

“But food tastes better when you share it with friends,” Konoha insisted, and Roppi looked to the ground. “Will you… really not share?”

“I’ll take a goddamn sandwich, okay?” he grumbled, crossing his arms and sitting on the bench where his machine gun rested.

Konoha lit up, giving a gentle smile as he sat down. “I am glad that we are able to eat together as friends,” he commented as he spread out the food in front of them, taking a pre-made sub he’d found in the deli section while Roppi started on some strawberries, if grudgingly.

The dark one grunted noncommittally, his gaze distant. Friends, huh? he thought, and closed his eyes. These strawberries… are pretty good.

Chapter 59: Schism

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

 

No one really seemed to be talking. Not about real things. A-ya was floating as he walked, every word that passed him as he, Izaya, and Rika returned just went straight through him. Rika was silent, eyes shrouded. Minene was growling at Rika that she shouldn’t disappear like that, apparently having been worried even though she masked it now with anger rather than relief. Celty began typing rapidly every question she had in the meantime, worried for everyone’s well-being and wondering where Roy might be. Suzuya seemed only vaguely concerned. Twelve seemed to hold worry, but he was still an odd shade of optimism. Yukiteru and Akise approached A-ya, Yukki desperately asking whether he was alright while every word that escaped his mouth made A-ya’s insides twist further.

“Please, please, don’t harass A-ya-kun too much on the matter,” Izaya had said. “Roy-san won’t be coming back…”

It was A-ya who told the story, nearly falling into total hysteria in the midst of his tale. It was Yato. He killed Roy, all because of a foolish exchange between A-ya and the god that only resulted in Yato’s outrage. Roy had saved him only to get sacrificed in the process. “It’s because of me,” he insisted repeatedly, tone rising and rising in a tumultuous whirlwind of emotion while everyone else assured him that it wasn’t, it wasn’t his fault even though he knew, he knew that he was the one who had killed Roy, they were wrong and… only he…

…At least the story was believable. Guess it was a tale which ‘sounded like truth.’ Did that make it reality? It haunted him nevertheless.

As they moved locations to one of the larger shops nearby, the sun began to rise. Yukiteru was assuredly holding onto A-ya’s arm, but A-ya couldn’t feel it. It felt strange. Yukiteru said, “Ah, the sunrise… It’s so beautiful.”

A-ya looked at it. “Yeah,” he agreed distantly. The thought that Yukiteru could still feel the sun’s warmth comforted him, somehow. Noticing the pressure of Yukki’s arm with his own, A-ya tried to return the gesture. Yukiteru’s expression melted into something like relief, but A-ya still couldn’t look at him.

Celty had suggested that they all settle somewhere to rest for just awhile longer in order to recover from the previous incident. Yukiteru agreed whole-heartedly, and so they went to rest up. On the second floor of the shop, there were three bedrooms and a small living space. Yukiteru, Celty, Twelve, and Suzuya hung around in the living area, remaining rather quiet. Twelve was leaning comfortably against the back of the old and worn couch placed in the room. He seemed like he might fall back to sleep anyway, though Suzuya was peering at him, hanging upside-down as he leaned backwards off the arm of a cloth chair. Celty, Minene, and Yukiteru were just too riled up to want to go back to sleep, so they merely took rest with the other two. Rika had retreated to one bedroom, A-ya resigning to the next. Izaya and Akise had gone out to the roof to stand guard together, Izaya’s amusement at his partner choice evident.

Within Rika’s chosen bedroom, Hanyuu hovered at her bedside, brow furrowed as she looked down on the ten-year-old lying on her back, no sheets to cover her. Hanyuu couldn’t quite tell whether her light purple eyes held conviction or emptiness. “I… I don’t really like how—how that went,” mumbled Hanyuu, and Rika closed her eyes.

“Roy is dead again,” she agreed quietly. All of her memories of previous games came to mind. It was strange, really… Unlike the typical memories of previous routes in her own world, in these games she could never remember anything past the point they were at now… no, not unless something painfully obvious like Roy’s death had triggered a memory of where this was headed: Demise.

“But something changed,” Rika added, opening her eyes again. She began to smile. “Izaya’s never intervened like that.”

“I—I know, but… but I don’t really like that guy,” frowned Hanyuu, and Rika chuckled.

“Izaya?”

“Yes. Him.”

Rika sat up, beginning to smile. “At least he’s interesting… He was right, though… So I won’t give up just yet.”

The goddess only drew her lips into a thin line, almost pouting. She didn’t know whether to be happy that Rika had gained motive for action back, or upset that it was Izaya Orihara that did it. Sighing, she sat at the edge of the bed as Rika laid back down and closed her eyes. They’d remain there for some time.

Just behind the head of the bed where Rika’s head rested, there lay A-ya behind the wall, curled up beneath the blankets with the pillow over his head.

Keep in mind, you can’t control me…

He was so exhausted, but he knew he couldn’t, shouldn’t sleep. Not that sleeping would help anyway, seeing as Saeru was awake when he wasn’t… meaning his body never rested, even if he did. What was the point? Knowing the things Saeru could do, it’s not like it would help A-ya’s mental state to sleep.

Can’t sleep, Loner? An amused hiss. The serpent’s voice was resounding through his thoughts as he lay there, wishing for sweet isolation. You chose this. You chose me.

He thought of how it had felt, his own body taking Roy’s life. He needed to go anyway – he’d almost found out.

But Izaya and Rika know now, too…

We could kill them too, if we need to.

Ah, what have I…?

That’s right, wallow in blame – it’s your fault, after all. You knew from the start that this would happen, didn’t you? You claimed to be ready for any consequence… Well, here’s one petty death, and that’s just the beginning.

So, were you ready, Loner? The demon sounded increasingly pleased. It’s too bad, really. You’d given such a good show in the beginning, Loner… Ah. Who should we kill next? Look at what you’ve done… how will Observer accept the truth of you now?

You’re nothing but a monster… You’ve always had the potential to be one, you know.

Haven’t you noticed?

Keep in mind… this is your wish… You wanted this, didn’t you?

And if you want Observer to remain at your side… you understand, you’ll have to kill more of them, you know?

A-ya didn’t respond to the snake, lying in the darkness underneath the blankets of the bed.

Ah, as expected… He could feel the demon smiling within. …You’re so incredibly helpless.

A-ya twitched. C-ta’s catchphrase, huh?

The dark-clad boy felt his mouth twisting, his body trembling as he took to laughing. “Helpless, am I?” he murmured, and emerged from beneath the pillow, turning onto his back and lying like that, staring at the ceiling. “…I’m sure you’re right…” ...But Izaya reminded me why I made this decision in the first place. Ah, and Rika—her views are exactly as my own. Who cares for the ordinary, mundane everyday when this… this is far more interesting, at the very least…

“…But I already knew that I was helpless,” he said with vague ruefulness, gazing up into the ceiling with tired red eyes. “You’re saying a lot of terrible things… but I’m used to hearing them from myself. From C-ta, even though I know he meant well… I…” He closed his eyes, bring his hands to the back of his head comfortably. “…But is that such a good thing? I know it isn’t… I’m just saying it’s what I’m accustomed with… Yet I’m also accustomed with boring, and, well—you’re not.”

You’re still calling me interesting, even now? the snake questioned, sounding rather skeptical, if humored.

“Absolutely. I’ve been into the occult since I started middle school… I never thought I’d have such a cool opportunity to be acquainted with a dream demon such as yourself…”

Don’t get too friendly, Loner, he hissed uncertainly.

“People would probably grow to reject you by now, right?” A-ya chuckled and sat up, hugging his knees. “But isn’t this exactly what you’re expected to do, as a demon? You’re right… I knew it all along. I had been expecting this, hadn’t I? I’d just almost forgotten, that’s all… Izaya and Rika reminded me of why I’m here now, though, so I’m not backing down. There’s no time for regret when it means my lack of willpower lends itself to your strength. Just because I love the occult doesn’t mean I want you going around with free reign of my body…”

You’re trying to tell me you still fancy this idea, huh, Loner? The serpent was confused but amused. Even though I’ve killed with your hands? Even though I know in your head they didn’t deserve it?

“Yes, even then.” He began to smile. “I’m not going to say I like the fact that Roy died… no, that’s something I refuse to think too much on—but I do know how this game works, and what’s the point in mourning the dead when this game is no more than a show? Death is misleading, murder’s no more than an illusion here… right?”

…Whatever pleases you, kid…

“No, no, I mean, I’ve died, too. Death means nothing to me if whoever’s running this has the power to just bring me back at will. ‘This game is fake.’ I’ve said it time and time again… No. This game… I can make it do what I want, too, if I really put my mind to it…” He brought his hands to his eyes to cover up the fixated glimmer that had begun to shine there. “That’s right…” His smile was spreading further. “Kuroha… Or rather, Saeru—you and I need to coexist. We need to compromise. Because if I really needed to, I would jump at the chance to end my life if it meant keeping you from hurting Yukiteru. Don’t argue otherwise – I’ve killed myself before.”

Is that a threat, brat? A-ya could feel his irritation beginning to simmer.

“Maybe,” he admitted. “But I don’t really want to threaten you. I’ve been trying to explain that I want to cooperate with you, not resort to shutting you down. Remember, you’re only within the realm of existence because I agreed to make that deal. Hear me out… You want to exist, right? And I want to stick by Yukiteru, right?”

…I will not settle for mere existence without control nor purpose.

“No, listen… You want to maximize your time existing, right? Just like I want to maximize my time with Yukiteru…” A-ya paused, mustering his will to say his next words. “Saeru, let’s reset.”

There was a delay in response. The serpent was momentarily surprised; words failed him. For someone to come that conclusion: the same as his own? And he didn’t have to drag them to the end of tragedy in order to force them into that choice as an act of desperation? He should be pleased, but it felt rather stale. Kinda… less exciting?

“You’re silent, but I know it was your intent all along. This game is fake… and the game masters don’t want it to end. Understand? I don’t either.” He laughed breathily. “What have I to go back to? I leave Yukiteru behind, and C-ta and B-ko are dead, if the game masters want to follow the logic of the players’ perceptions. If not, we may not go anywhere. What awaits us at the end of this game? Who’s to say this game ever happened at all? For all we know, there’s a parallel version of us just going about doing daily activities as though none of this ever happened. That said, the version of us that is our conscious self… Wouldn’t it cease to exist? I exist, right now, here in my own head. Just like Yukiteru exists. Just like you exist.

“Even if we did go back, remembering everything from this game… Even if we were to go back and find that all of those we lost are back – if we were to return to normality, do you really think that’s what I want to go back to? No! No…” Softly, he chuckled. “As far as I’m concerned, if the game ends, we end. I want to spend time with Yukiteru. I want to see C-ta again. You just want to exist, causing havoc on the way. I don’t mind you causing havoc, knowing that death is nothing more than an illusion here… It’s inconsequential. Lives here are nothing; I get it. Logically I can comprehend this; emotionally I’ve yet to. But that’s fine, isn’t it? I want to spend time with Yukiteru… yeah, so he isn’t allowed to die. That’s all I ask, and that’s something you’ve agreed to earlier on, isn’t it?

“I’m giving you the ideal wish, here, Saeru. I’m proposing that we reset the game – I know it can be, and I know you know it too… Isn’t that perfect? Isn’t it exactly what you want – exactly what we want? And then next loop, well, it’ll be another chance. More time.”

The serpent was silent, curling into a mental coil as he processed what his master had just asked of him. For a human, a mere human, to speak of life and death as inconsequential, just as he would? He, the Clearing Eyes Snake, who viewed the affairs of humans as petty and insignificant to a being such as himself, who had come into being centuries beforehand…?

Ah, but this boy still had his weakness, that dastardly thing called ‘love,’ the strongest human emotion as well as the one that was humanity’s downfall. The serpent began to smile inwardly at such a thought. No, this human child was just as foolish as the rest… Even if he had potential to be a monster; even if he was metamorphosing into one as they spoke…

Saeru couldn’t help but think to himself that monsters weren’t meant for love. His first master, the first Medusa, who had been birthed at the beginning of time… She had fallen victim to that ugly tale of love and loss. And what had become of her?

A scoff escaped him, and A-ya stirred in anticipation of his response, patiently waiting. That was right… This boy, Loner, had still come to the same conclusion as him despite the fact that he, the serpent, had not needed to so much as suggest such an idea. He didn’t have to whisper it in the back of his mind, lure him to this end… rather, this coda that would bring them back in time.

A thrill began to fill him. A-ya had proposed an irresistible deal, the ‘ideal wish’ indeed… It wasn’t that this boy was equivalent to him, not at all… This wasn’t about equality; this was about common interest. Could he ask for anything better? A host that wanted the exact thing that he did? It was a strange feeling, to have a vessel that suggested the very thing that Saeru’s ulterior motive had been all along. To have the same ulterior motive. To have the same ultimate motive. It was almost too good to be true.

…You mock me. Is that truly what you’re after?

“You’re the one in my head,” A-ya shrugged. “You can read my thoughts all you want. In that respect, you have the upper hand. I have the advantage when it comes to cutting this life short, on the other hand – it’s my body. There is no catch, Saeru. Just, we’ve got to cooperate, which I know you won’t like doing just because you’re so used to working solo… I’d guess so, anyway. It also means we’re going to work with other people.”

What other people? Because the group we’re in now is far too large for my tastes…

“We’ll see,” answered A-ya. “But it also means that you can’t do anything to Yukiteru.”

We’ve discussed this.

“And I’m reiterating it.”

For someone who speaks of death so lightly… Isn’t it strange for you to continue on with your protection of Observer?

“No. I want to be by his side… That was my wish, wasn’t it? I don’t want you answering my wish by getting him killed and then resetting, no… I don’t want him touched this time around… or any other. If we go about this the way I’m suggesting, you’ll be ensuring the granting of my wish while also extending your existence. We both get what we want. I’ve thought this through; I know…”

And what’s the meaning of that, Loner?

“Well…” A smile ghosted over him. “…I want to get to know a demon. Is that so wrong?”

In the living space nearby, the five waiting in rest were at varying states of calmness and restlessness. Twelve and Suzuya seemed the calmest, even though Suzuya looked like he was getting a little bit impatient. Celty was next up, looking vaguely uncomfortable in her posture but otherwise fine. Minene was just irritable as always, openly complaining about the lack of action. At last, there was Yukiteru.

The diary owner looked around at everyone else with flickering blue eyes that flitted from one conversation to the next. Twelve and Suzuya were talking about the eyes of that Nora girl. Minene was complaining, as mentioned, while Celty would respond mildly with a flash of her phone screen. Seemed the female terrorist was still sore about Rika having gone out so dangerously, but the concept was just strange to Yukki, who had only seen Minene as a ruthless terrorist previously.

No, she saved Yuno and I from poison gas, that time… for whatever reason. He closed his eyes. I remember that now. But…

Then again, Twelve was also a terrorist, apparently… But it sure didn’t feel like he was. He was super friendly, even though he was also playful… He teased in ways he shouldn’t, but honestly, next to that Izaya guy, he was golden.

All of this wasn’t really what bothered him, though, honestly. No one seems to be thinking about Roy-san, he thought with an ill-at-ease frown.

Twelve joined in the conversation between Minene and Celty, suddenly: “Minene, you were pretty scared when Rika ran off, huh?”

“Shut up,” the opposing terrorist growled. “She’s just a kid.”

“I mean, I asked, and she says she’s ten years old. That’s not that young,” Twelve commented thoughtfully.

“I wonder if she saw what happened to Roy,” added Suzuya.

[I hope not.] wrote Celty.

“Ah, she’s seen worse,” Minene waved Celty off. “Like when your group was slaughtering mine? Yeah…”

[I was not a part of that!] Celty protested. [I didn’t mean any harm, myself…] Pause. [I didn’t want to fight. You don’t need to forgive me, but I apologize for the actions my group took…]

“Well, I’ve gotta thank your group anyway,” Minene shrugged. “Mine was just a collection of crazies.”

“Yeah?” inquired Twelve, shooting his eyebrows up in amusement. “Do tell!”

“Ugh.” She crossed her arms. “I had some fucked-up kid who was a ‘Deadman.’ Totally a nut. Then I had the personification of lust, and this freaky-ass parasite lady. Not the best of times.”

Yukiteru’s fists were clenched in his lap as he listened, his head bowed. How…?

“Nice,” laughed Twelve. “I guess they weren’t a very cooperative bunch?”

“Nope,” she scoffed.

“And Celty seemed like she had problems from hers,” Twelve remarked, and Celty bobbed her helmet in confirmation.

[They wanted only destruction. The only one besides myself that didn’t wish for chaos was killed by one of said other teammates within the first day.]

“Wow,” said Suzuya.

How they can they talk about the dead so easily…? Yukiteru felt his body tensing in protest to the talk around him.

“Makes me thankful for the lot I was given,” said Twelve, stretching. “A strange combo though it may be, I love my group,” he snickered.

“I don’t,” said Suzuya, and Twelve blinked.

“Hey!” he cried in joking protest. “I’m in your group!”

Suzuya picked at his lower lip, unconcerned. “So?”

“Well,” said Minene, rolling her single eye, “…as long as we can cooperate, I don’t give a shit. Just don’t piss me off.”

“You don’t have to argue with Roy anymore,” pointed out Twelve, and she nodded.

“Eh, true.”

Yukiteru’s jaw tightened.

“Although, that fire thing was pretty badass,” she grumbled in admittance.

Yukki furrowed his brow, frowning as he lifted his head. “…G…guys…,” he began, his voice barely a whisper.

“I just wanna get moving again,” Suzuya sighed, sliding further from the arm of his chair, his hair dangling below his upside-down head. “Are we all rested up yet?”

“Guys,” Yukiteru tried again, his tone firm.

“What is it, Yukki?” asked Minene dully, closing her eye. Twelve peered at him with one open eye, curious. Suzuya was staring with those creepy wide eyes of his. Celty turned her helmet to indicate she was listening.

The fourteen-year-old backed off a bit, nervous from the attention. “Y… you all can’t be serious…”

“About what?” Twelve asked blankly.

“How—how can you go and talk about people who’ve died so… so casually like that?” he asked, a tremor to his tone. He shook his head, composing himself.

“What?” asked Suzuya. “People being dead, what’s the difference? They’re still the same person.”

“That’s not—” Yukki’s frown deepened. “Do you care, at all…?”

Celty’s discomfort was evident. [I do.]

“If someone dies, it’s not like it really matters,” said Suzuya, stretching his sewn-up arm above him and staring at his outstretched fingers. “Having someone die beside you, ‘mourning’ them is the same as having breakfast with them. The same as playing ball. For someone to die, I really just don’t care. It just happens.”

“…Hm,” said Twelve. “I might not go that far, but after it happens enough, you just…” He shrugged. “You don’t feel the loss, at some point.” The friendly terrorist smiled, closing his eyes. “Yukiteru, this is a death game. People are bound to die.”

“I’ve killed people as young as you,” Suzuya spoke in dead tones, staring at Yukiteru.

“U-uh…?” Yukiteru backed up on the couch only to jump when Minene clasped him by the shoulder.

“Yukki,” she said firmly, and he stiffened.

“Wh…what is it, Minene?” he answered nervously.

“The only people that matter in this world are the ones that are still alive.” She spoke from experience, but it was cold. Yukiteru swallowed. “The ones that are already dead…  there’s no point in worrying about them. There’s nothing you can do for them – they’re just dead, and that’s it. Don’t waste your life thinking of the dead – it’s not like you’ll get them back. What’s past is passed. The only place you can go is to the future. Got it?”

Yukiteru stared up at her for some time before breaking eye contact and turning his stare to the ground. “…Sorry.”

She scoffed. “Prove it.”

“I—”

“You’re okay, Yukiteru,” assured Twelve.

Celty had begun typing on her phone when they heard one of the doors opening. They looked down the hall to see Rika closing the bedroom door behind her with a gentle click.

“Ah, Rika,” said Minene, blinking.

Nii~” Rika answered happily, trotting down the hall towards the five awaiting her.

I wonder how A-ya is doing, thought Yukiteru, bringing a hand to his face.

“You’re a tough kid, you know that?” Minene told her, and she bobbed her head happily.

“Maybe it’s almost time to go, huh, Suzuya?” asked Twelve brightly, upon which Suzuya answered, “I hope so.”

Rika stopped at the end of the hall, taking pause and touching her lips in contemplation. “Minene?”

“Eh?” She gave her a confused look as she waved for her to come over to her. Shrugging, the mostly-unfriendly terrorist went over to her, letting her grab her wrist with her tiny hand and pull her along down the stairs. “Ah, Rika, what’s this about…? Need to talk or somethin’?”

Rika nodded as they reached the bottom of the steps, leaving behind the four in the small living space to discuss what this might be about. The ten-year-old gestured for Minene to come closer, and she frowned as she obliged, crouching on the ground to get closer to her height.

“What is it, kid?” she grumbled, and Rika leaned close to her ear, cupping her hands around her mouth – the way secrets are told. Her tiny voice was low and quiet.

“Minene, Yato didn’t kill Roy.

“What, so he not dead?” she frowned, and Rika shook her head and shushed her. “Don’t shush me—” she began, but Rika’s serious look quieted her. “Fine,” she whispered, if irately so. The eye-patched one gestured for the other to continue. “Shoot.”

Rika leaned in again. “Yato wasn’t there. He’d run away. The mischievous one who played a traitor’s game is A-ya. He killed Roy.”

Minene’s single eye was widening, brow furrowing. “Really,” she remarked in undertones.

“A-ya isn’t A-ya. He’s bound by a demon who takes pleasure in tragedy.”

“Well, fuck,” she mumbled, looking at Rika with urgency. “Well, what’re we gonna do about it?” she asked quietly. “We gonna blow him up? We’ve gotta get rid of him; shit…” She facepalmed. “Ugh, Yukki, you make some really crazy friends…”

“I wanted to tell you,” Rika said, clasping her hands behind her back and shifting childishly from foot to foot. “I don’t know what we should do. You can decide that.”

“Fuck,” she grunted, getting to her feet. She began stalking through the store section and towards the exit.

“What are you doing, Minene?” Rika asked, trotting along behind her, practically at a jog to keep up with the terrorist.

“I’m telling Akise.” She yanked open the door with force to find Akise and Izaya in the middle of (un)pleasant conversation, making their way to the door at the same time.

“Ah, Minene-san!” cried Izaya in delight. “We were just deciding that it might be a good time to—”

“Akise, c’mere!” Minene cut him off, grabbing the boy detective by the forearm and pulling him back inside.

“Minene-san?” was Akise’s confused response as he was dragged inside.

“Ah, Minene-san, what’s this—?”

“Shut up, Eskimo bitch man!” Minene snapped. “I don’t need you!” And she slammed the door behind her and Akise.

Izaya stood, frozen, there. Rika happily smiled up at him. He looked at her. “…She just called me an Eskimo bitch man,” he said blankly.

“That is so,” Rika answered, and he erupted with laughter.

Upstairs, Twelve and Celty had come to the conclusion that Rika just wanted to get what had happened off of her chest. “Though admittedly, something’s definitely fishy about the whole thing,” added Twelve.

“Why? People die in death games,” said Suzuya, finally sitting up and looking at everyone right-side-up. He scratched at his messy white hair.

“Oh, something’s not right as all,” Twelve dismissed him, closing his eyes. “It’s nothing… Nothing at all, Suzuya.”

Suzuya frowned at him.

[I do agree that something isn’t right.] Celty came in.

Yukiteru breathed a sigh. “Pardon me, everyone,” he said quietly, standing up.

[Where are you going?] asked the Dullahan, and Yukiteru read her message, tugging at his hat.

“I want to go check on A-ya.” With that, he turned and approached A-ya’s door down the hall with much tentativeness. He heard Twelve telling him good luck, but at this point Yukki was more concerned with the door in front of him. Think of it as one of those night talks, he assured himself, tugging at the sleeve of his jacket. Yeah, he’s shut in a room, but that’s just A-ya… I’m sure he just doesn’t want to be around all the others. After all, both of us are used to being together, just him and I… right? Mustering up the courage to open the door, he grasped the handle… and paused. He heard something. Ah… he’s, talking?

Leaning closer to the door, he strained to hear his words. Is this wrong? I shouldn’t do this, should I…?

Behind the door, he heard muted speech, quiet and barely audible; A-ya was speaking very quietly. “…Glad… …decided.” Furrowing his brow, Yukki listened closer. “Reset is our route. Now the first thing… …won’t have an excuse…”

Reset? Yukiteru closed his eyes, shaking his head. I shouldn’t eavesdrop like this. I’m terrible. With that, he opened the door.

There was A-ya, sitting up on the bed, one arm wrapped around one of his knees, the other leg furled beneath him. He looked at Yukiteru and smiled an off-putting smile that the diary owner decided to shrug off. “Um.” He closed the door behind him. “I don’t want to interrupt you or anything… but I wanted to make sure you were—okay.”

A-ya swung his legs over the side of the bed and got to his feet. For some reason, Yukiteru got the impression that A-ya was exuding something dark. The room felt strangely cold. Did he have air conditioning in here?

“Um… You’re kinda quiet,” said Yukiteru. “If you want me to leave, I can…”

“No, no, you’re here at the perfect time, Yukiteru,” A-ya assured him. “Thank you.”

He blinked, then gave a weak smile in return. “Oh, um… you’re welcome? I think…”

“There’s something I need to talk to you about,” A-ya explained, tilting his head and clutching at his chest with one hand. That smile was still on his face.

“Yeah? What is it?” He felt the need to take a few steps back, but he couldn’t imagine why he’d want to back away from his best friend. He stayed put, denying the uneasy feeling he was getting in his gut.

A-ya averted his gaze, bowing his head. “Ah, Yukiteru… Well, I’m not really all too sure how to go about bringing this up… but…”

“Does it—have to do with resetting the game?”

A-ya’s head jerked back up, and he stared blankly at his friend.

Yukiteru gave him that weak smile again. “I, um, had heard something about ‘reset’ when I’d gone to the door. I didn’t mean to listen to you or anything, it just—kinda happened. I get it… I mean, I’ve told you once before that I want to go back to the start.” He was rubbing his arm nervously. His mouth felt dry. “But also… I want to work for the future, because… if we go back, won’t the same thing happen again?”

“Maybe,” A-ya said flatly. “I don’t mind.”

Yukiteru blinked, surprised. “Um, A-ya…?”

“I don’t mind at all. I want to go backwards; maybe I’m a backwards kind of guy… But… I have no hope for the ‘future.’ In fact, there is no ‘future.’ And that’s why…”

“…A-ya?”

Yeah, I’ll reset,” he said, speaking in two voices simultaneously. He smiled at his friend, and Yukiteru unwillingly shivered. “And then we really can be together… Yes, forever, if we really wanted.” He laughed a bit in that dual tone, then said in one voice, “I don’t want to go back to being lonely.”

“A-ya, what are you talking about? We don’t have to—”

He was cut off by A-ya’s fist being driven into the wall just near Yukiteru’s head, red sparks flickering around his buried hand. Yukki’s mouth was agape in shock, standing stiffly. He backed up at last, bumping into the door behind him. A-ya was still smiling at him.

“Yukiteru, I needed to tell you something,” he said, his tone like that of contained excitement he got when he told his legends or reminisced on rumors. “So, listen.”

“I’m listening,” Yukiteru said weakly.

Downstairs, Minene had explained bluntly to Akise that A-ya was possessed and was probably going to screw them all over if they didn’t do something about it. The boy detective only touched his chin, contemplative. “Ah, that isn’t good,” he said, at which Minene hissed back, “No shit.” Izaya and Rika came back in. The informant was, of course, curious about the whole thing, but Akise only told him that he’d let him know soon enough when he was discussing it with the group as a whole.

Up the stairs they went, Izaya a bit miffed that he hadn’t been informed even though he was getting a good idea of what had happened by the way Rika grabbed his hand out of nowhere and squeezed before happily prancing back up to Minene.

Upon entry of the living space, Akise called the attention of the others. Celty, immediately concerned, got to her feet. “No need to panic just yet, Celty-san,” Akise smiled. “There’s just something that needs to be discussed with everyone. It’s very important, and it regards A-ya…”

“Yeah?” asked Suzuya. “Wazzat?”

“Hm…” Akise frowned slightly. “Where… is Yukiteru-kun?”

“With A-ya,” Twelve said brightly, and a loud smash got everyone’s attention, as though something had hit a wall. Something, be it the wall or whatever hit it, sounded like it had broken.

“Alright, I’m going to explain this quick,” Akise said urgently, and everyone was at attention.

“My, my…,” sighed Izaya, running a hand through his hair as he grinned. His other hand was on the hilt of the Prophet, on-guard. Things were about to get complicated. What has A-ya-kun gotten himself into?

“I’m telling you that I’m not going to hurt you,” said A-ya, back in the bedroom with Yukiteru. “I’m telling you that now. But I’m also saying that I’m going to cause a scene. I’m going to wreck this alliance, and I’m going to expect you to take the side that isn’t mine.”

“A-ya, why would—?”

“Yukiteru, I’m possessed by a demon,” A-ya told him plainly, and Yukiteru stared at him incredulously.

What? I thought you were joking!”

“Maybe I was,” A-ya shrugged.

“You’ve been—since when?!” he cried.

I’m going to end this group. I’m leaving it.” The double voice again.

“Can’t we just work this out?” he tried, and A-ya laughed in two voices.

Can we?” he cried happily, ripping his hand from the wall. “Don’t worry, when we go back, it’ll start again. Without a future, I’ll make one. It’ll be fine.” He grinned. “Trust me.” He staggered backwards, laughing, and then slammed his palm into the ground, red electricity crackling around him. Sending a jolt through the building, the ceiling light and bedside lamp flickered to light, growing brighter and brighter until they burst, shattering with a frightening pop along with the sound of shattering glass. Yukiteru gave a yelp of fear. “That was so cool!” cried A-ya hysterically. “Amazing! Did you see that?”

“A-ya…”

They could hear the others trying to open the door now – Yukiteru could feel it shaking at his back.

“Yukki, get outta there!”

Yukiteru glanced back at the door. To his surprise, it was Minene’s voice. I need to stop A-ya, he thought. But how? Nothing came to mind.

 “Don’t look so upset, Yukiteru!” he cried in delight. “This game is nothing but entertainment, searching for the perfect ending. Well I, like the game masters, am not looking forward to its conclusion. There’s no need for you to worry, though, because you’re going to be safe either way! This will be my game now.

“A-ya, stop this!” Yukiteru shouted to him. “For you to be possessed, why didn’t you just say so? We can totally figure this out!”

There’s nothing else to figure out.

How do I get through to him? I don’t want to fight him, and he’s way stronger than me right now, anyway… Ah, there’s… that, but…

“Yukiteru-kun, can you hear me?” called Akise from beyond the door, and Yukki froze. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine!” he called back, remaining with his back pressed to the door. If they come in now… I, don’t want anyone hurting A-ya, either…!

On the other side, Minene, Akise, Izaya, Rika, Twelve, and Suzuya all hurriedly tried to figure out what to do. “Why don’t I just fucking blow up the door?” growled Minene.

“Because… you might blow up Yukiteru?” suggested Twelve.

“So?”

“Doesn’t that… kinda defeat the purpose of trying to help him?”

“We can’t use explosives,” said Akise, hand to his chin. “That’s too forceful.” He gazed at the door. “He says he’s fine… Yukiteru-kun is good friends with A-ya-kun. Perhaps this is something that he needs to work out. Perhaps this just isn’t our scene to partake in.”

“Can Yukiteru-kun handle the situation?” asked Izaya, raising his eyebrows. “Do you think that he can handle the thought that A-ya-kun might ‘betray’ him, so to speak?”

Akise’s eyes narrowed, his thin smile spreading. “I believe in Yukiteru-kun. He’ll be fine. If it’s A-ya-kun’s future to betray us, then Yukiteru-kun will change it. I believe that with all my heart.”

And with that, the door slammed open in a burst of bright orange, knocking everyone back and consequently hitting Minene with the door. She expressed her annoyance with the bark of an expletive.

They heard shattering glass, then thudding feet. By the time everyone peered into the doorway, there was a haze over everything and the wall leading to the outside had been destroyed.

“…What’d we miss?” asked Twelve.

“In we go!” cried Izaya, charging gladly into the room to investigate, the others following behind.

In the room, Yukiteru had come to the conclusion that he should activate Aureus’s item. Maybe then, he could at least be strong enough to bring some sense to him, right?

“A-ya, can’t we just talk for awhile? It’ll work out, I’m sure…” His hand was in his pocket, his fingers brushing the orange stone that the items master had given him. He grabbed it, drawing his lips into a thin line. “I don’t want you to leave like this…”

“I don’t mind that you don’t understand,” said A-ya.

“Well I mind that you don’t!” cried Yukiteru, lifting the gem into the air and throwing it to the ground in punctuation of his words, transforming in an explosion of orange swirling with black, like a monarch butterfly spreading its wings. There was Yukiteru, swathed in inky ebony as a cloak of the night swallowed him, torn at the fringes. Other than this eerie cloak, the rest of his previous attire was gone, leaving him without all but his hat. Somehow he didn’t mind being barefoot, but he was so caught up in his transformation, staring in awe down at himself, that he didn’t notice the bits of the crumbling ceiling had halted midair, hovering around him like miniature meteors. He looked around at these, and lit up. Cool! With a wave of his arm, he sent the small debris showering on A-ya – the worst it would do was annoy him – leave a scratch, get in his eye, maybe. “Will you listen now?” he asked, running at him only for A-ya to demolish the wall behind him, jumping from the second story to the ground. Yukiteru followed. He was ecstatic to find that he fell slowly, as though he could defy gravity itself. I can fly? Holy crap. I can fly!

Yukiteru landed gently on the ground, arms spread. He was floating through hazy rain. Oh, it’s drizzling. “A-ya,” he said desperately, “it’ll be okay! You don’t have to run off… Hey, I have an idea!” A-ya was crouching on the ground, staring at him with that monotone expression of his. “If you really want, you and I can just leave – just me and you! It’ll be just the two of us again… I mean, plus the demon I guess?” Nervous laughter followed, and Yukiteru’s worried eyes still did not wipe the weak smile from his lips. “Can we do that? Can’t we?”

Yukiteru, what the fuck?!” shouted Minene from the second story. Izaya was gracefully jumping from the hole in the wall and into the rain as she spoke. “What’s that outfit?”

Yukiteru blinked up at her bemusedly, watching as she clicked her tongue and scooped up Rika in order to follow Izaya down to join them. What if they try to hurt him…?

Yukki, back off from him!” Minene snapped, and Yukiteru’s confusion only grew.

“Huh?”

Carefully, Akise joined them on the ground with Celty, Suzuya, and Twelve following behind. “Yukiteru-kun,” said the boy detective, his soft voice projected over the soft hiss of the drizzling rain so that he could hear. “Be careful. A-ya is the one who killed Roy.”

“He… what?” Yukiteru wheeled back around to look at A-ya. Surely he didn’t! He wouldn’t!

But his friend was laughing with his hands to his face, curled forward slightly under the weight of that very knowledge. Surely… it was a lie… Right?

“I’m glad… they’ve figured it out already, anyway,” he said, and dropped his hands, looking with sorrowful eyes to Yukiteru.

“You… didn’t, right?” he asked quietly.

“…I did,” he said. There was a pause between them. What could Yukiteru say? What could A-ya say? The dark-clad hero then shouted to all the others, “I’m leaving this group! From here on, I’m playing this game my way.” His mouth twisted in joy. “I don’t know about all of you,” he said in a different voice, “…but I’m heading to where the game masters are.

“Be that as it may, the way you’re getting there is not the path we’re taking,” Akise said coolly.

“Ah, I don’t suppose A-ya-kun is planning to go solo, is he?” Izaya smirked, hand to his chest. “Surely he wouldn’t mind a companion.”

[Izaya, you’re not seriously going to join him, are you?] Celty asked frantically.

“No, no, understand! I know there’s a different purpose to this game, and I wish to reach the end!” Hands in his pockets, he calmly walked past Yukiteru, towards A-ya. The dark-clad hero stood up fully, watching Izaya curiously. He didn’t look displeased. “A-ya-kun is one of the ones I’ve found to have pieced together a good part of this ridiculous fiasco, and that’s why I’d love to team up with the kid.”

Ah, I did expect to end up alone, thought A-ya. But this… is better.

Yukiteru was beginning to deflate, his shoulders sinking. He heard people approaching behind him. “We’re leaving,” said Minene harshly, and Akise’s pale hand took him by the shoulder.

“We need to leave them behind for now,” Akise said apologetically.

Can I really… not…? He felt the cloak dissipating, returning to his regular attire of turtleneck, jacket, and shorts. He felt his boots on his feet again. A-ya… killed Roy? He… is leaving the group… Can’t I… stop him? Can’t I bring him back?

I know, Yukiteru, A-ya thought, gazing right back. The demon we really seek… It was me.

I can’t do a thing.

This is my cycle.

I’m so…

I… am really, so…

…Helpless.

“We need to work for the end somehow,” Izaya pointed out, shrugging with his palms facing the sprinkling sky. “I just don’t want to wait around anymore.” Closing his eyes, he smiled. “This game works in—interesting ways, I guess you could say. What way is safer? Faster? I suppose we’re at a crossroads! Where will we go?”

“Not with you,” growled Minene, pulling at Yukiteru and forcibly bringing him back and away from A-ya. They broke eye contact at last, and by the time Yukiteru had the chance to look back again, A-ya wasn’t looking at him. “We’re fuckin’ booking it, alright, Yukki? No arguments. Who knows if they just want to stab us in the back?”

But… A-ya…?

“Minene will lead,” Akise said officially to the others.

“I’m a master of escape, after all,” she snickered.

Is it really that we’re ‘escaping’?

“What an interesting turn of events, A-ya-kun,” remarked Izaya. “I hope you’re pleased with the mess you’ve made, because now I’m along for the ride.” He laughed a bit. “Look at what we’ve gotten ourselves into. Hm, this’ll be fun!”

“I wonder if Rika will join us,” A-ya answered flatly, watching the ten-year-old, who was gazing back at them with her tired old eyes.

“I think she’s the one who tattled on you, A-ya-kun,” said Izaya, and the dark-clad one only shrugged.

“So?”

As they spoke, Minene began guiding the child away from them. A-ya couldn’t tell whether Rika was putting up protest or just wanted to stare eerily at them for longer. A-ya couldn’t help but smile. Thank you, Rika…

“Alright, we’re going to move fast, so let’s hurry the fuck up, everybody,” Minene ordered gruffly, on which Celty typed out, [I can carry Rika and Yukiteru with my shadows, if I need to. Anyone that needs to be. It will be faster.]

Minene curtly nodded to the idea, and Celty wrapped them up, much to Rika’s child-like enjoyment, giggling exuberantly at the ride. Yukiteru, on the other hand, was frozen, his eyes wide. “Wh…what about A-ya…? We can’t—just leave him…!”

“We can and we will, kid,” the female terrorist answered bluntly. “Be glad they aren’t trying to slaughter us while we’re getting ready. Oi!” she barked, looking over at Twelve, who was unmoving, looking over at A-ya and Izaya. “Twelve, you coming or not?!”

He looked at her, not answering for a moment. Then he beamed, saluting at her. “Sorry, Minene! It pains me to let a fellow terrorist go, but I’m following them! They seem more fun,” he added with a grin. He then proceeded to bounce on over to them, much to the surprise of A-ya and Izaya.

“Twelve, hah?” Izaya inquired, eyebrows shooting up.

“You bet!” he beamed.

“And Suzuya,” said A-ya without tone, tilting his head as Suzuya shuffled up to them.

“Eh? Why are you joining, Suzu-chan?” asked Izaya, filled with cold amusement. “I thought you didn’t like me?”

“I don’t,” he answered, then looked at Twelve. “Twelve… is my partner.”

“Aw, I’m touched!” cried Twelve.

“Agh, whatever!” came the irate call of Minene, waving them off.

A-ya watched them skirt the house until they rounded the corner and were no more. “Look at that, A-ya-kun! You made two new groups!” Izaya praised, patting him on the back. Twelve and Suzuya high-fived, next to them.

“…I did,” A-ya agreed distantly. He decided that he couldn’t tell whether it was a good thing or a bad thing. As long as we reach my goal… …it will work out just fine. Smiling, A-ya turned to face the opposite direction the others had gone and started walking. The others followed.

 

Notes:

For those of you acquainted with Kagepro--a happy Heat-Haze to you! Don't die.

Chapter 60: Look-See

Chapter Text

 

“Ah, everything’s changing…,” Muse commented happily. In their arms was the little air balloon contraption that Twelve had made. Had it gone off? Yes. Was Muse covered in paint for a few hours? Maybe.

“Everyone’s making their own group now… Yato with Nora… Roppi with Konoha… Hell, Seidou and Kaneki are going solo, at this point… What remains of ‘Groups 1 and 2’ is so intertwined now that they’re one group…” They breathed a sigh, closing their eyes contentedly. They were the only one in the top of the tower, the control center at the center of the game field. For now, Muse was alone. “Seraph went and intercepted Roppi when she knows she shouldn’t have. I have Aureus complaining to me about how his handful of players are falling apart because of me… Ah.” They smiled. “I’m almost sad that Yukiteru and A-ya have split.” The smile contorted into a terrible grin. “Almost. I wonder what the possessed A-ya will do now… Very exciting. Groups 3 and 6 are like sister chromatids that have bound and split. What will be born from this schism, I wonder?” They opened their eyes again. “Hehe… I may have to consider coming up with a new way of categorizing the casualty fireworks, at this point… Maybe I’ll just stick to the color of group origin after all, save for the female survivors. This game sure has come a long way…” Muse’s pale eyes glimmered. “Stage Two of the game began upon the entry of the new recruits and the female survivors… so…” They spun in their swivel chair idly, clutching the mostly-destroyed makeshift air balloon in their arms. “Here we are, everyone! Stage Three! Stage Three! What a show! What a show!” Pressing their foot to the ground, they stopped spinning, staring wide-eyed into the screens before them, expression blank but eyes filled with fixation.

“Here we are, friends.” Muse spoke with low finality. “Will it end? There’s no such thing as an ‘ending’… Hah.” Their eyes narrowed in pleasure, mouth curling. “Everyone, please… do your best.” Looking down, the smile only stretched further upon the reading of a note strapped to the bottom of Twelve’s contraption. ‘Having fun?’ it read.

Muse carefully pulled the note from the now-useless balloon, discarding the creation and holding the note in their hands with much care. Distant gratefulness shone in their pale eyes. “I am,” Muse whispered, and leaned back in their swivel chair, content.


I wish… I had my music.

Lying in a position that had somehow earned him comfort on that tiny loveseat, Shintaro stared at the ceiling with eyes red as the rising sun. Images flickered behind his corneas, vivid scenes painted perfectly. Memories danced tantalizingly or dreadfully before him, painted every shade of lonely, happy, despairing, nostalgic, and everything in between.

It came all at once: every parallel timeline. How many times had he killed himself with his red-handled scissors? How many times had his friend Konoha killed them all as Kuroha? How many times had he died back home, in comparison to…?

It wasn’t just the times in his world, either. Given to him were also all the previous games, each with a different set of dynamics…

Shintaro was working alongside human Seidou and Akira and Kaneki and Saiko and Shirou. The hikkiNEET wondered what the purpose of his return was when all he’d earned was a medical bag and eyes that watched his back; the memories of Roppi’s still-screaming form amongst the flames. The game master inside the hatch had granted him the chance to escape with that medical bag, telling him he should probably get going if he wanted to save Touka. “But you know,” Aureus had added with a strained smile and a shrug, “she’ll probably die anyway, so.” He clicked his tongue. Shintaro could tell that his sympathy was dripping with sarcasm. Shirazu had died in Yato’s attack, and Seidou had been wounded along with Kaneki. The weary but unified group of six trudged along, but Shintaro was set on sacrificing himself if it meant he could save somebody—anybody. He was beginning to consider the idea that perhaps he could save everyone in his group, yeah, save them the trouble of having to deal with the failure that was Shintaro.

No, now he was alongside that Yato god, who was fighting the deranged Kaneki with flashes of holy cerulean, using the earnest Yukine as his Shinki as they strove towards the goal of becoming a god of fortune. Kaneki was torn – Touka and Hideyoshi were dead; Shirazu was dead; ghoul Seidou was laughing at his suffering from his perch on the rubble of the demolished buildings, destroyed by the battle that was raging.

Now it was Shintaro and human Seidou on a scouting mission, making sure the surrounding area was clear. They found Izaya, whom they’d had an alliance with previously. They approached the eerily alone informant, a dagger in his hand, stained red. When he turned and noticed them, he was void of expression. His red-brown eyes were not of their regular shade but red, the pupils slits. “Ah,” he said flatly, tilting his head and smiling. “Pleasure to see you again, Recorder.” As horror struck Shintaro too late, Seidou was skewered before him. He was next.

No, no, now their groups had scattered. Shintaro didn’t know where everyone else had gone, but he had scrambled to escape the earthquakes of the clashing demons along with everyone else. He was gasping for air inside a building that he’d slipped into fearfully, hoping for safety. On the other side of his closed eyelids, he heard someone’s voice: “Hiding from the chaos?” He jerked back to attention to find that there was one of the younger players before him, his wavy hair messy from the previous days of the games. He had empty pools of green for his eyes, drooping and weary, but his smile was still as warm and friendly at it had been at the intro. Shintaro remembered his name was ‘C-ta,’ but his attire had changed to a light blue hoodie. Seemed there was a face sewn onto the hood, but it was down, so the NEET didn’t get a good look at it. In any case, the blue was spattered with darkened red. “I’m hiding, too,” C-ta said to him. “I’m… the only one left.” His brow furrowed in what almost seemed apology. “Perhaps you and I could team up?”

There was another where Shintaro hadn’t even made it past the second day – that battle with Shinichi and Sebastian’s group had ended him. Shinichi hadn’t saved Roppi, and the half-parasite had since shut down. Shintaro sacrificed himself before Seidou and Tsuki could be taken.

New picture.

Shintaro walked in late to the party, dragging his feet as he entered the hospital. He heard conflict upstairs and didn’t want to approach it. He was in one of those funks where he felt worthless, and Roppi was dead. “Seidou,” he mumbled to no one, “I made it back.”

Slowly, he ascended the stairs. In approaching room 2-15, he heard a struggle occurring. Outside the door, Saiko sat with her back to the wall, broken and bloody. Or at least, it seemed like her, even without a head to identify. Blood was spattered and smeared around her, as though she’d been thrown here. Shintaro felt sick, forcing one foot in front of the other, making himself approach what he didn’t want to see, whatever it may be. He shakily opened the door with a gentle push; the door was nearly falling off its hinges. He felt like he was stepping in something sticky, but refused to look down and find out what it was. He recognized the body of Light. Of Shirazu. He saw the body of an auburn-haired boy that he could now identify as Shirou. He found Saiko’s head, her face slack, eyes rolled back. Where’s Kaneki? he wondered idly as he looked at the profile of his team leader, cloaked in black.

Seidou held Akira at the neck, pressing her to the wall as she grasped at his hand. “Seidou?” Shintaro breathed, and the wraith turned his head to look at him, his blackened mouth twisting into an expression that Shintaro could not identify as a smile nor grimace. Tears and blood alike streamed down Seidou’s pale face.

All of these scenes occurred at once, overlapping one another in one big overwhelming epiphany of all that had happened before, from the Emina Games to the world back home. It’s a flash flood, he thought. A flashback flood.

He thought it funny, but didn’t laugh. The red-jerseyed teen was struck with a wave of nihilism. If all of this continues to repeat, what’s the point of any of it? Though the sudden memories felt like dozens of lifetimes, he sensed that it only took a few moments. He wondered vaguely if Seidou felt that overwhelmed when he hit FastForward. Shintaro brought his hands to his face at the thought. What’s the point of giving me these memories? What should I do with them? Is there anything I can do? A sharp vision of a route in which Shintaro had stood up to Kuroha before he had managed to kill Psyche. Seidou had joined him, and all together they had ended the demon. Sebastian had still come, killing Tsuki, killing Izaya. Shizuo and Yato (along with the Shinki Yukine) had ended Sebastian quickly. Much fewer casualties.

Was this time worse, or better?

Would comparing this time to others lead only to depression at this point? Or will I just fall into the same pattern as always, only focusing on the bad memories anyway?

What was this game’s purpose? Why were they playing, and how many times would they have to before it finally ended? And why was it that he, Shintaro, the lamest guy in-game, the hikkiNEET that had thrown his life away… Why was it that he, of all people, was chosen to remember these things? Just because I have the power at home? But then, why do I have it there?

“What the hell’s going on?” he whimpered, and wiped at his now-grey eyes with the red sleeve of his jersey.

In the dark, he sat up. I wonder what time it is, he thought absently, rubbing at his face to try and fix the tear-streaked, sleep-deprived look he’d no doubt created. I want to tell someone about this. But who?

I barely know Akira, and the same goes for Shirou. Ah… I guess, can I really say that, remembering all these other times, now? And Shirazu… I, don’t know… I don’t think he’s the best guy to tell this kind of thing? He scratched at his messy black hair, sighing. Even if I could tell Konoha right now, he’d probably pass it off as unimportant or beyond his thought processes… or something. I don’t know. And Roppi… If this is bringing me back to thinking there’s no point in anything—why would I tell him something like this? He might be wrecked. He let his bangs fall over his eyes. No, the truth is that I don’t feel like telling any of these people in particular. Really, I… want to talk to Seidou about it. Putting the thought into words made his eyes burn again, and to distract himself he looked over at where Light had been designated to sleep. The couch was empty and cold. Looking to the window above the couch, he realized there was a soft glow touching the sky that indicated the coming dawn. “I wonder if Light will come back.” A thought struck him: What if he died out there?

Groaning in protest to what he knew was necessary, he got to his feet. “I hope he’s okay…,” he mumbled, rubbing at his face as he shuffled blindly forward, making his way slowly but surely to the stairs leading to the second floor. If he’s really not okay, what will I do? Oh god—it’d be my fault… He tripped on the third stair ledge, grunting as he nearly faceplanted. From there he managed to make his way up the stairs, hesitating at Akira’s door before deciding that maybe he’d just tell whoever was on watch – meaning, Shirazu.

Light might be missing, Shintaro, just knock on the door, he scolded himself, and knocked on her door.

Her cool voice answered, “One moment; I’ll be right there.”

Nervously, he lowered his fist, sticking his hands in his jacket pockets and swallowing. Can I talk to people right now? Can I? Crap, what if I forget how to talk to people again? He closed his eyes. I really, really just want to be alone. I want to be alone. I want to be alone.

The door handle turned with a click, and his heart skipped a beat. He kept his face down as Akira answered the door, looking down on him. “What is it, Shintaro?” she asked. “Everything alright downstairs?”

“…A… he… Light… I, mean…” I didn’t stop him, did I? Oh god, what if she blames me for not catching Seidou in time to—

—no, she doesn’t know that I was told about the pillar when I was with Aureus… Uh…

“What happened, Shintaro?” she tried again, her tone gaining a note of urgency.

He stiffened. “I—” He looked at her, and told her. “Light left—he left late last night and I didn’t stop him and I heard him leave but I didn’t get up and I don’t really know why but I think he was trying to kill Roppi—not that that’s relevant or anything but he might have tried to—I don’t know what was really—going on, or anything, but I really need to tell someone what happened and I figured that you should know that he might have had, um—ill intent but then again what I’m trying to say is he left and he’s not back and I’m sorry that I didn’t stop him or tell you sooner but I—”

“Shintaro.”

“Yeah?” His voice broke.

“Calm down,” she said to him, putting a hand to his shoulder. It only made the static within him glitch further. “We’ll go looking for him immediately. What did he do that made you think he was trying to kill someone?”

“I…” He lost his words again for a moment, then gathered his vocabulary back up with a cough before explaining in all apprehension, modesty, and discomfort that the pieces just fit together that way – the tale Light told about the mass murderer and how he needed only a name and face to kill… How he’d had that conversation with Shintaro yesterday about names and spellings and such… How Shintaro had taken his pen, but really he didn’t know that any of it was solid evidence, maybe it was just intuition, maybe it was all in his head, but—

“I believe you,” she said to him with a reassuring smile. He just about passed out from the relief. “He seemed rotten anyhow.” Shintaro nodded dumbly. “That doesn’t, of course, change the fact that we’re going to try to find him.”

“Oh—yeah.”

“If I have anything to reprimand you for,” Akira added, “it would be your delay of informing me of his leave. There are a lot of outcomes that could have resulted from this that are less than ideal.”

Hanging his head, Shintaro nodded again.

“No use sulking. Let’s wake Shirou.”

“Uh… Yeah…”

They effectively woke Shirou without much resistance – the auburn-haired teen was quickly ready to go. Shirazu, on watch outside, was told of the current circumstance before the four of them headed out. “Where do you think he might’ve gone?” asked Shirazu, scratching at his head.

“We’ll just have to search the surrounding area,” said Akira. “If too much time passes, we will presume he is dead or gone AWOL, and we will continue without him.”

“Harsh,” the orange-haired officer mumbled, but Akira only shrugged him off.

“It’s the way things work.”

“I guess…”

Shirou only uncomfortably averted his eyes.

“I think he went to the graveyard,” said Shintaro tentatively, and Akira eyed him.

“What makes you say that?”

“I—don’t know? Sorry. Never mind.”

“I’ve found that most often,” she told him, “when your gut instinct speaks to you, it’s speaking up for a reason.” She closed her eyes. “We’ll check the graveyard first.”

It turned out he was right: upon the approach of the graveyard gates, they found blood spilled on the ground. Along with this, the right gate was open a crack.

“Looks like he started bleeding again,” Shirou said, concerned. “Maybe he reopened one of his wounds?”

“He may have bled out, in that case,” Akira said bluntly, and continued into the graveyard without hesitation. Shirazu, Shirou, and Shintaro all looked at one another. Shirou was the first to follow. Swallowing, Shirazu went after him.

Slumping, Shintaro grudgingly obliged to the group’s decision, trailing behind them all. As they followed the blood trail, Shintaro paused at the cool breeze that gusted over them. It felt nice in the warm weather, but it felt oddly sharp. An unease settled in the pit of Shintaro’s stomach. I don’t remember ever entering the graveyard in any other route… Not that this is creepy or anything. He brushed his fingers against one of the tombstones, disconcertingly blank, as though waiting to be engraved with a name of the dead. Brow furrowed, Shintaro noticed that all of them were bare of any inscription. He felt oddly isolated. Exposed.

Sticking his hands in his jacket pockets again, he wrapped his fingers around his stun gun—as if a stun gun could help him in any of the heinous situations that he could be faced with in this stupid game.

They followed the blood trail, Shintaro hanging back behind them, lagging further and further away. Eventually Shirazu turned around and gestured for him to come on closer, “Ya don’t want us leavin’ ya behind in a graveyard, do ya?”

Shaking his head vigorously, Shintaro quickened his pace and caught up.

The four of them followed the occasional spatter of blood, the scattered remnants of Light’s lifeblood grew closer together; either Light was bleeding more at this point or he was slowing down walking. Perhaps it was both.

And just like that, the trail ended.

“Wh—where’d the trail go?” Shirazu demanded, as if anyone else knew the answer.

“Strange…,” said Shirou softly, rubbing at the back of his head with wide eyes that he blinked bemusedly.

“What do we do now?” asked Shirazu as Shintaro wandered forward, confusion stirring within him.

Where did he…?

“I don’t see a body,” said Shirou.

“Well he can’t have just stopped bleeding,” the orange-haired one protested.

“But the trail just… ends.”

“What, he stop existing suddenly? What sense does that make?”

“I don’t know, Shirazu,” Shirou admitted, and Akira ended their conversation with one simple sentence:

“Something is wrong here.”

“Hm? What’s that, Akira-san?” asked Shirou, and she frowned slightly at the use of an honorific.

“We’re leaving now. This feels like a trap of some sort. We’ll turn back now.” With that, she began on her way back towards the gates.

“What?” Shirazu, delayed in the turnaround, jogged to keep up with her determined stride, Shirou moving to play along with their game of follow the leader. “What if Light’s around, though? Like, he could still be here…!”

“That doesn’t matter anymore. If he set this up, then he can fend for himself just fine,” she answered coldly.

“What if he was captured?” argued Shirou, walking alongside Akira and Shirazu with a frustrated gait. “He could be being held hostage right now…”

“I doubt it, Shirou.”

“But even if it is a trap, we might be able to figure out what happened—he could still be alive.”

“I’m not too sure on that, Shirou.”

“I know that maybe he isn’t the best of people…”

“Shirou.”

“…but if we can save even one person in this game, instead of letting them die…”

Shirou.

He looked at her with fiery eyes, his brow furrowed in concern.

“Hypothetically, if it were to be true that Light was taken in by someone else,” she said, “then it’s more likely that he’s already dead. Logically speaking, staying here puts the four of us in danger. Instead of saving one, you sacrifice more than that single person. There is no reason for us to risk that.” All through this, she had continued walking on firmly, her heeled shoes still somehow holding up well in this place.

Shirou bowed his head, silent. “You’re right,” he agreed eventually.

Disconnected from the other three, Shintaro stood in the center of the dirt path, looking ahead in further into the graveyard. The others were far behind him now, but he could still hear them pretty clear if he were to pay attention. Two gravestones ahead, something glimmered and caught his eye. Some unseen force drew the teen forward, and he bent to pick the object up. Much to his fear and sorrow, he discovered that what he’d picked up was Light’s watch, lying discarded in the grass. The second hand had stopped ticking; it had stopped telling time after 3:12 that morning.

Shintaro felt that his mouth was dry. What happened to Light? he wondered, his chest seizing in discomfort. Was he killed after all? But… by who?

“Shintaro!” called Shirou, and the hikkiNEET jumped, whirling around to see that the others were far ahead of him. “I don’t want you left behind; come on!”

“I’ll carry you if I gotta!” added Shirazu, and Shintaro blinked.

Behind him, he heard the soft giggling of a child, and he was sure that his heart had stopped in his chest. Well, there was his cue. With that, he broke into a run, going as fast as his shut-in legs could carry him. He glanced back once to see a tiny figure sitting atop a stone mausoleum that totally hadn’t been there a second ago. A spear of terror pierced him, and he ran faster.

The others were waiting for him at the gate. Upon their leave of the graveyard, Shintaro felt relief wash over him. He quickly closed the gate behind them, gasping for air. He ignored Shirazu’s questioning and Shirou’s sheepish laughter.

“It’s okay,” Shirazu eventually conceded. “Graveyards are pretty creepy. Uh, kinda, anyway.”

“Th-that wasn’t funny, not fun… Please tell me… that one of you—heard that too…”

“Heard what, Shintaro?” asked Akira seriously. Shirou and Shirazu gave him curious looks, on which Shintaro shook his head, throwing his hands into the air.

“No way. I’m not doing this. Let’s go. Let’s just go.”

Shirazu and Shirou looked at one another while Akira closed her eyes and sighed. Shirazu and Shirou just shrugged. The four of them continued on.


Atop the mausoleum, Anna kicked her dangling feet back and forth, her palms pressed to the stone ledge. Her head was tilted, her eyes thoughtful and distant. She watched as Shintaro rushed away. “Huh. I wonder if the wimpy Shintaro could manage to give me a piggy-back ride,” she remarked. She began to laugh again as he rushed out the gates. “Shintaro… he’s funny. I like Shintaro. He is good. Just needs to work out – train or something.” The lone girl burst into giggles at the thought. “I wanna say hi, but I shouldn’t mess anything up anymore.” Closing her eyes, she listened to the distant clinking of the closing gates. “Even if… I kinda want to.”

Below her, the golden rays of morning light broke from the horizon, shining on the gravestones below and on the mausoleum she sat upon. The sun made her light brown hair look blond. “It’s no fair; I’m bored. I want to play too.” She brought her feet up onto the ledge, curling her knees to her chin and hugging her legs to her torso. “…Oh well…”

 

Chapter 61: Birds of a Feather

Chapter Text

 

Yato’s wounds were gradually healing. He thought that perhaps the healing process was slower than it was at the beginning of the game, but he ignored this and continued, awaiting the time at which he would be able to fight again with confidence. If he could hang back until the worst injuries could heal enough, then he could do what he needed to do.

They were coming up on another group, this one with less people. It was a bit farther out from the rest of the players, but at this point it was perfect to lead Seidou along this way. Seeing as they were heading east, he may be able to take refuge in the thicker woods of the eastern edge of the playing field. From what he remembered, Kaneki had mentioned there being a little cabin somewhere in there where his group had started. If Yato was right, no one was in that direction. Maybe he could rest there, even if it was only for a little bit. For now, that group nearby would be a great new distraction for Seidou, if he was still tailing them. Unfortunately, the half-ghoul hadn’t managed much in the group Yato had led him to last time… Then again, it was a pretty hefty conglomerate. But couldn’t they at least have killed Seidou?

Whatever.

At the very least, it seemed like Seidou was quickly wearing himself out now… Not to mention he didn’t seem to tend to his own wounds, meaning he was liable to run himself down to the point of getting himself easily killed. Maybe he’d be weak enough for Yato to take down without much risk. If he reached that point, well, Yato’s greatest concern would end up being Kuroha’s new vessel.

I can’t just let my guard down, either. There are others that could have greater potential than I give them credit for. The white-haired kid with the scythe… he’s very impressive with that weapon. The shirtless one with the blood-blades does have something going for him, seeing as he did manage to cut me once. That little girl has a goddess on her side, although she doesn’t seem very strong anyway… There is the black biker who killed Hiyori… His thoughts faltered, his fists clenching and unclenching. There is Izaya, knowing that he has the weapon that ended Yukine… He remembered when he’d first made his decision to use Nora, and how he had clashed blades with Izaya. He’d never seen that damned informant move so fast, or with such motive. When they’d met eyes for that split second before the force of Yato’s strike blew him backwards, the god saw in Izaya’s expression a sense of indignance. It was a look filled with raw emotion; something that Izaya typically would never show, if he were even capable of such a thing. No… it was an expression that was far too human for such a person as he.

Oddly, it only served to heighten Yato’s bitter distaste of him. The blood running through him was hot. He wanted him dead; him and the biker both. He very much wanted them dead.

I’ll take my time with those, he reminded himself, and took a deep breath as he moved briskly forward. They were gradually coming up on the area north of where Yukine had died. Where Shizuo had died. Psyche; Tsuki. He felt a hollow sort of ice settling in his insides. He decided to return to the contemplation of possible threats.

Kuroha’s former vessel, the android, is still very strong, I’m sure. I haven’t paid him much thought, but he held his own alright when I last confronted those groups… Kaneki has a lot to go on as long as he’s thinking clearly, and as long as he doesn’t hold back. If he still considers me as someone he shouldn’t fight full-force, then he’ll be far easier to defeat.

They’d skirted well around the group south of them now and were approaching the forest slowly but surely. The dirt road that divided the lower half of the playing field was behind them now. Nora, walking contentedly alongside him, watched his stone expression with warmth. That cold nothingness in his eyes… The sharpness. Those were the eyes she missed; this was the Yato she wanted back.

Then, Yato stopped. Just, stopped walking. Nora looked at him, tilting her head and smiling. “Hiki,” he said lowly, and she became his weapon in a flash. Something wasn’t right.

The god turned around to discover a figure descending from the sky with their arms and legs outstretched as though they were going to land on all fours. Yato was already prepared to strike them away with his sword, but the assailant went for Nora with appendages of red, leaving Yato incapable of finishing his swing as the half-ghoul Kaneki came down on him.

Where? Why? Kaneki—?

The god knocked him back with a powerful kick, making the white-haired boy skid backwards a few paces. He’d successfully freed himself and Nora from Kaneki and his kagune. Yato could see him better at this angle, in the light of the rising sun. Blood ran down his face and into his ghoul eye. His dull, mismatched eyes widened and glimmered with an off spark as he pressed his thumb to his index finger, cracking it without expression before moving quickly around Yato and grabbing him from behind. The god froze as he was. Leaning his pale head forward so his face was beside Yato’s ear, Kaneki began to laugh. The god could sense the sugary bloodlust curling the ghoul’s mouth, and his eyes narrowed. He couldn’t argue with the ambush; he’d done the same to Kaneki’s group just the day before. No, there was no time to wonder about Kaneki’s intent or purpose for confronting him in this way. Instead, he simply needed to process that Kaneki was trying to either incapacitate or kill him, and neither was desirable.

Yato’s grip tightened on Nora’s hilt, preparing to counter whatever Kaneki had in store. “Allow me,” Kaneki said sweetly, “to gently scramble your insides.”


The outliers’ group of Shinichi, Hide, Senji, and Rin made their way further east, though Shinichi guided them away from the south. Despite the half-parasite’s efforts, they did come across an area spattered with old blood. Shinichi halted. Ah… Not far enough north, it seems… I didn’t realize how close we were…

“Damn, what happened here?” inquired Senji, approaching the spray of red on the ground and the trees that was once Sebastian Michaelis. Looking down, Shinichi scanned the area to see if he could find anything resembling Migi. There was nothing.

“Maybe we just shouldn’t disturb this place,” suggested Hide.

“Yes,” Shinichi agreed lowly, and turned sharply south without any other explanation. Expression blank, he walked down to the edge of the rocky and upturned ground, where the snake demon had demolished the earth. Laid out were four bodies, lying all in a row at rest. He looked with distantly sorrowful eyes at the bespectacled boy with the scarf adorning his neck. The other three slowed down once they could see that he was leading them towards a set of the fallen. Rin brought her hands together before her, averting her gaze. Hide looked right down at them, brow furrowing in mixed emotion. Fear. Sorrow. Regret that he didn’t know any of them, and couldn’t therefore properly mourn them. Senji’s expression as he looked down on them was dull and empty.

“Pardon me,” Shinichi said, kneeling before the four fallen and bowing low to the ground in respect. The friend of the boy with the machine gun… To think, Sebastian killed him. I’m sorry…

For what purpose did these people die? Is it that all of just want to survive? So then… isn’t it just pointless bloodshed? All of us just want to live. Why can’t we all just live?

When Shinichi raised his head, he came to find that his new group members had all bowed low, although still standing. A vague smile touching his lips, he got to his feet, and they straightened again, Senji rather sheepish about the whole thing.

“Did you work with them?” asked Rin quietly.

“Ah…” Shinichi shook his head. “No… On the contrary, they were enemies… I guess.”

“I see,” she said shortly, distractedly. Her bright blue eyes did not make contact with his, which was just as well.

“I hate to break up this kinda important thing,” said Senji awkwardly, rubbing at the back of his head, “…but um, do you guys hear that?”

“Huh?” Hide perked up as everyone pricked their ears, suddenly on-guard.

“Sounds like a fight’s going on…,” said Rin, eyes narrowing.

“Maybe we can help,” said Shinichi, and Senji cut him off with a low, “Wait.” The partial-parasite looked at him, bemused.

You’re the one that’s always going on about how badly you want to get into another fight, Senji,” huffed Rin, crossing her arms over her chest. (Carefully, mind you – her right arm was still mildly mutilated from the machine gun attack from Roppi.)

“No, but what’s that?” asked Senji, pointing off to where the residential houses by the dirt road were situated. They hadn’t set out too long ago, seeing as it was still early morning. Thus, the houses weren’t all too far behind them.

“Something… is on top of the house, there?” tried Hide, squinting.

“Yeah, looks like it,” Senji agreed.

The watcher, just a shadowy figure from here, jumped down from the roof. The four leaned in, watching in apprehension for what this person might do. Leave? Observe? Attack?

“Maybe he wants to invite us for lunch,” suggested Hide brightly, and with a swaying start, the figure began to get steadily larger. Shinichi could hear feet pounding on the ground in the distance – already it wasn’t so far away anymore.

“He’s fast,” Shinichi frowned, taking a step forward.

“Sorry, Hide, but this guy doesn’t seem so friendly,” Senji smirked, lowering his center of gravity and crossing his hands over one another in front of him. On either of his thumbs, he had serrated silver rings. These were what he used to quickly draw blood to use his Crow Claws. (Plus, it just looked badass.) “Head to the woods, guys, and get away from here. I wanna see if I can’t stop him. I can at least slow him down. I’ve been wanting a proper game to play, here…”

“Let me help,” Shinichi said firmly, but Senji only cut him off.

Kid, don’t underestimate me.” He looked back at Shinichi with a single narrowed eye.

“That wasn’t what I…”

“Look, you’ve got a really shitty complex going on. How old are you?”

Shinichi blinked bemusedly.

“What does his age have to do with it?” Rin frowned.

“Just tell me. You look like a teenager, or something.”

“Uh, yeah… Eighteen.”

“Nineteen!” Hide piped up, and held up his hand for a high-five. Shinichi blankly high-fived him, on which Rin rolled her eyes. “Beat ya!”

“Look, my point is that you’re just a kid,” said Senji. “All of you are. Keep in mind that all of you guys are teens, and I’m closer to thirty than I am to twenty. So.” He looked at Shinichi seriously. “You’ve been leading us along, helping us figure things out here. Thanks—we were kinda stuck without anyone who knew what was happening. But even if you’re here… even if you’ve gone to hell and back beforehand; I could care less. You’re a kid. Stop taking on the world already—that’s what adults are supposed to do. You don’t have to go on and take responsibility for every goddamn thing, okay? Make it out of this shit! You don’t have to be the one protecting everyone else – let me fucking protect you! Got it?

Shinichi was frozen, unsure of how to answer such a speech. “…I…”

“When it comes down to it, what I’m really asking—” – he swiftly spread his arms apart, splitting his skin and creating his Crow Claw blades from the red that flowed – “…is for you to let me have one cool scene for myself.” A horrible smirk twisted his mouth, and the white-haired black-cloaked half-ghoul that was charging for them arrived in all his cannibalistic glory. Just as he was within arm’s reach of Senji, the Deadman swiped downwards at the half-ghoul, slicing neatly and cleanly.

The Owl – that is, Seidou – staggered backwards, stopped in his tracks. Senji’s distorted smirk spread wider, his single eye widening in pleasurable satisfaction. A thin line of red swelled from Seidou’s middle; he’d been divided neatly in half.

Dead center,” Senji said lowly, pleased with himself. As always, his aim was perfect. “Agh… But, that was so boring.”

Seidou was frozen as he staggered backwards to a stop, staring up the sky.

Rin remarked, “Huh.”

As Senji rubbed at the back of his head, his blades dissipating, Seidou’s injury seemed to collapse, being sewn back together within a few seconds. Seidou smacked his un-split lips thoughtfully as the four stared in growing terror.

“He has regenerative capabilities,” Rin said shortly, urgently.

At the same time, Shinichi whispered, “He can heal.”

Senji blinked at his opponent as the Owl smiled hollowly at him, tittering in amusement at their shock. “Well, shit.”


It was in the factory he’d torn apart from the inside. Upon waking to the light of dawn, Seidou had opened his eyes to rubble that he knew was the result of his own hands. He was in a pile of broken monochrome. “Maybe I’m colorblind,” he commented oddly, his first remark of the morning. Or maybe my heart’s been bleached. He rose from his nest, brushing dust off of himself. He rubbed at his right eye, stained with blood. Stumbling forward, he began wandering his way around the factory again. “…Wring me out, hang me up, out to dry, dry, dry. Drain me out, hang, hanging out with myself out here.” He paused, distracted by the need to retch. He soon found himself choking and heaving, kneeling back on the messy ground again. With his pale hand to his mouth, he discovered upon his conclusion of the bothersome cough that he’d regurgitated blood. That’s mine, he thought in recognition. That’s my blood.

He looked down at himself, putting a hand to his abdomen. “Skewer.” I want Yakitori. “Maybe, get a splintered bone, yeah. Stab a few pieces of people. The cowards, yeah. Chicken Yakitori. Perfect. Yum.” Tittering to himself, he jumped on a loose piece of concrete and rode it down a pile of debris, letting out a joyous cry as he did so. If I were to kill everyone else in this game, if I win, can I do what I want? Can they get rid of this damned cage?

Even better, if I win, then I win. “I win, I win, I’ll win, win, win… No, I won’t have seconds, thank you, not that I’m full. Bwahaha.” He laughed to himself, then paused when something caught his eye, flickering in his peripheral vision.

Stopping abruptly, he looked at the intrusive object, pulsing with an invasive purple glow. His eyes narrowed as he changed direction and approached the pillar. An items pillar? He looked down at it in distaste as it flickered to life despite it being lopsided, have fallen from the second story.

The silhouette greeted him warmly as always. “Congratulations, Seidou Takizawa, you’ve found an items module!” it said cheerily, and Seidou’s lip curled in deep annoyance. “You are permitted either a question or the selection of your item!” Despite Seidou’s great levels of displeasure at the current situation, he looked down at the glitchy selection screen. His name was the only one lit up. Looking at the other names – Shintaro, Roppi, Tsuki – he only grew more discontented.

Beside his name, awaiting him, was the item Regeneration. He thought of the blood he’d just spat into his hand. If I’m not careful, I could die. Just ‘cause it doesn’t hurt doesn’t mean it won’t kill me. Well… He was biting absently at his index finger as he pondered this. “Whatever,” he said eventually, jabbing a finger at the button. He was swept with blank white. He could feel his body mending itself. He could hear the Voice’s delighted applause. He looked down at himself curiously as the light subsided. “…Huh.” It fixed the cloak too.

Your regenerative abilities are now relieved of their limitations, for now,” the silhouette explained to him brightly, and he stared at the figure of purple-fringed static without expression. “The limitations will recur after six hours. Until then, you have every ability to heal, so long as you’re well-fed.” It paused, then laughed. “I don’t think you’ll have a problem with that one. Have fun, little Owl!” And with that, the silhouette glitched out of existence once more.

“…Little Owl,” Seidou had echoed with distaste. He turned sharply to leave the factory. “Cute.”


“Guys, get outta here,” said Senji. “I’ll catch up if I beat him.”

“You’re seriously going to do that?” Rin cried, and Senji laughed.

“Take care of the girl, guys! Looks like I can have fun here after all!” Pausing, he pulled something from his pocket, keeping an eye on Seidou the whole time. “Oi, Rin!” He held up a small coin to his side so the others could see it. Rin, Shinichi, and Hide all stared perplexedly. “See this coin? If it lands heads up, I’ll be fine! So when you catch it, if I win, you guys go on ahead, okay?”

“You don’t seriously believe in that stuff, do you?!” Rin protested, but he flipped the coin anyway. Seeing that she was too bothered by such a ridiculous way to go about things, Hide caught it in the palm of his hand instead.

“Well, it’s heads,” commented Hide, blinking at the coin in his hand. There was a salamander engraved in the head of the coin. “Sweet coin.”

“Give it back when I catch up!” called Senji, and Hide nodded, saluting him.

“Gotcha!”

With a pained look, Shinichi turned and began leading the others to the woods, Hide assuring Rin, “Hey, hey, he’s pretty badass; he’ll be fine.” Maybe he convinced her to come along, but Hide couldn’t help but look back one more time. Is that really who I think it is?

“Just you and I now, ya creep,” Senji grinned at Seidou, who was only smiling back. The Deadman dug his fingernails into the veins atop his right hand, slowly generating the long blade known as Invisible Black. “It’s time for me to be a hero!”

With a bark of laughter, Seidou attacked. Senji finished his blade just in time, and they clashed in a flash of black and white. Crow versus Owl; crows never did get along well with birds of prey.

“I do like that you let them escape. I do, I do. That’s why I won’t kill them first. Why I didn’t do anything.”

“You like that, huh? It’s just my responsibility, you know?”

“If this is false heroism, I don’t want to hear it,” Seidou scoffed bitterly, and Senji laughed.

“Do you know what a hero is?

Senji sliced Seidou’s hand clean off only for it to reattach midair.

“What does it matter?” Seidou responded with a sneer.

“Well, I’m gonna tell you anyway,” Crow smirked right back. “Because I wanna have a cool speech while we fight.”

Owl laughed derisively.

“When you’re young, you’re supposed to have someone you rely on. Right? You can pretend you’re a great help to them, your idol, the person you want to make proud.” Senji paused as he was kicked in the face. Wiping his mouth with a grin, he continued: “That is a hero. This person, whoever it is. Your ‘hero.’ Your ‘adult.’ The coolest person you’ve ever known.”

“I don’t want to hear your blathering,” Seidou scowled. “Be quiet.”

“The truth is, when you’re a kid, you have a hero that you can rely on, but when you grow up, at some point, you’re not going to have them around anymore. No matter when that is… Whether you still need them or not, they’re gone, just like that.”

“Stop it.” A growling protest.

“And from there, I guess you’re supposed to become the next person’s hero. You’re supposed to grow up. You’re supposed to take care of someone else, in return for having been taken care of. That’s being an adult, isn’t it? Isn’t that being a hero? For someone to rely on you; that’s to be a hero. For someone to be able to rely on you… that’s to be heroic.” Brandishing his blade, he struck again with a flourish. “I’m not gonna let those kids down! I want a moment of being cool too, y’know? Even if ya kill me, I’ll have died a hero, right? So I don’t mind it one bit!”

“That’s bullshit,” Seidou spat, breaking Senji’s left arm with a swift kick downward. He’d been aiming for the right arm, the one with the blade… but he’d moved in time. For a supposed ‘human,’ he was incredibly fast. His left arm hanging limply at his side, Senji smiled at Seidou with one squinting, determined eye, burning with an earnest fire. “Your speech is bullshit. What about the people who have no hero? Or what if your hero is a piece of shit who leaves you behind in Hell? Huh?” At this poisonous yell, he jabbed his fist into Senji’s well-muscled gut, sending him flying backwards. He landed hard on the sharp rocks of the earthquake from once upon a time, when Kuroha was possessing an android and Seidou was still human. “What if you can’t rely on your hero, huh? What if they—just—LEAVE?

Senji choked up red, wiping at his mouth carefully as he staggered to his feet. “You can’t go on and tell me that they weren’t your hero at some point. Otherwise you wouldn’t be so pissed. Trust me, I was pissed too, when my hero died…”

“HE DIDN’T DIE!” Seidou snapped harshly. “He… escaped, just like, that, no, that—that…”

Senji shrugged with his one arm. “Life sucks.”

“You don’t—get it, don’t—get it, don’t get it at all.”

“Oi, kid,” the Deadman frowned. “You think I haven’t had my own taste of Hell?”

“Shut up.” He was standing stock-still, his hands to his head.

The crow approached him, his blade at the ready. “No, really, now I feel like I should probably be offended or something. What, just because you can heal fucking anything, it means you can go on like that? I can tell you’ve gone through some shit, don’t get me wrong, but so have other people. That’s life!”

“You don’t know… the things that… Those things… What I… did, what they, did. To me, or I, to—to—to… too… much, I—can’t handle, can’t stand, stand it, can’t help it, I couldn’t help it!” He began to wail, and Senji frowned deeper, ready to strike. Wordlessly, he charged, only to be blown back by the reveal of Seidou’s kagune. Upon landing, the Deadman stared in wonder.

“Well goddamn…,” Senji breathed. He still felt a smile on his face. Good to see I’m actually facing a challenge. This’ll be interesting.

Shinichi went north upon reaching the woodlands. “Isn’t this in the direction of the other fight?” Rin hissed, but Shinichi didn’t answer, leading them further north to a curve in the fringes of the trees, curling so that they could see the outcome of Senji’s fight, if vaguely. Somewhere behind them, they could hear trees splinter and smash. They were luckily still relatively distant, albeit about the same distance that Senji’s battle was to them.

“Rin, watch our backs. I’ll watch ahead.” Shinichi was very to-the-point, ignoring her irritation towards his sudden authority. Regardless, she obeyed, turning to the north while Shinichi remained facing south.

“Y’know… That guy’s definitely from my world,” said Hide slowly. Senji’s coin was clutched tightly in his hand, digging into his palm. He realized that ever so slightly, he was trembling. Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself.

“The one Senji is fighting?” inquired Rin, not turning away from her post.

“Mm,” Hide agreed. “He seems like… an artificial ghoul of some sort?”

“Sounds disgusting,” she said dismissively.

“No, just… a different species; that’s all,” Hide said carefully. “It’s strange… because, he sounds like someone I work with… Looks like him, too. But…”

“I don’t register who he is,” Shinichi said coolly. All feeling had shut off for him. “So he may be a new player.”

“Was a guy named Seidou Takizawa in-game before?” tried Hide, and Shinichi blinked, recognition flickering in his distant eyes.

“Ah… he does look like him… just a bit.”

“So you know him?” asked Hide, perking up. Seeing as he didn’t recognize him at first, could it be that Takizawa wasn’t like this in the beginning of the game? What happened? The game masters do something to him?

Hide jerked back from his thoughts as Shinichi punched the tree beside him at full force, splintering it just a bit and destroying the bark directly where the contact had occurred.

Rin wheeled around. “What? What was that for?”

“Nothing,” Shinichi said lowly. Flatly. “Sorry.”

She furrowed her brow. She had nothing to say.

Drawing his lips into a thin line, Hide opened his hand and looked at the coin there. What a cool little knick-knack it was. He got heads, huh? Flipping the coin over, he found that the other side was the exact same salamander. He couldn’t help but start laughing.

“What’s funny?” Rin asked, sour.

“It’s a rigged coin,” Hide grinned. “He can’t lose. There’s only heads.”

She turned to look at him with utter exasperation. “You’re kidding me.”

Hide shrugged, looking back out to where Senji was fighting. If that is Takizawa… I wonder if a chat would help him out. I think I’m missing something here, but I’ll figure it out anyway… Ah… both of you, I hope you make it out of this… Uncomfortably, he rubbed at the back of his head.

In said fight, Senji was slammed backwards by a hit from Seidou’s fist right into his chest, right where Roppi’s machine gun had broken his sternum. His breath left him on impact, and his head spun. Knowing that goddamn wing thing was going to shower him with projectiles, he raised his good arm to protect his face, earning crystals in his flesh. His breathing was heavy; his lungs burned. “Shit,” he choked out, holding his chest as he got back up. “No way in hell I’m giving up, ya hear?” he added, pointing at Seidou for emphasis. “No, no way.” He took a step forward. Ahead, the half-ghoul was crouched in preparation, his injuries putting themselves back together as though someone had a needle and thread that sewed him right back up with ease. “You think I don’t know what Hell’s like. I’ve been there for almost ten years. Ten years. You know how bad that sucks?” He took another step. Seidou seemed to hesitate. “Do you know what I used to be? You know where I started from? Hah? You go on shrieking at me when you don’t know my story. I can call myself a hero if I want to. I’m not letting you get to my team, and that’s that.

Senji charged again, ignoring the burning in his lungs; ignoring the pain in his arm as he put it to use without warning, taking Seidou off-guard and punching him square in the face. It really fucking hurt to use his broken arm—probably hurt Senji worse than it did Seidou’s face, but god damn it, it was worth it to punch this fucker.

“Honestly, you just look like an asshole to me. You know—the kind that kills heroes.”

“Shut up about heroes, would you?” Seidou growled, and Senji smirked.

“Yeah, sure. Instead I’ll talk about Hell. Care to chat? I’ll share a secret with ya.”

“Share—secrets,” Seidou repeated, his expression frozen in a scowl-grimace.

“Look, I used to be a cop. Can you believe it? I was a police officer! I worked my ass off doing everything I could to be the best. Do you know what I do now? I’m in prison! Do you know why I’m in prison?”

Seidou was bristling, his throat rumbling in rejection of Senji’s tale.

I didn’t even do anything. And that’s not even the funniest part! No, now I’m just part of some stage show – Cannibal Corpse. We’re trained to fight like dogs, you hear? All we are to the people who fucking stole us from the outside world are experiments used for the end of some stupid-ass master plan that none of us have any idea about anyway!” Senji’s good arm was crawling with black, creating a pattern over his skin not unlike ebony fire. It continued up his neck. To his cheeks, adorning his face with dark bloody glory in the form of swirling patterns. “Don’t get me wrong,” he grinned as this process began, eye narrowing. “I loved it there. And all that… All that’s why I’m not gonna go and let myself get killed in a game like this. I’ve got a will to fucking live, damn it! You won’t break me down!

Face distorted, Seidou pounced at him. Senji bore dual blades now, disregarding the brokenness of his arm in its entirety as he diced Seidou to bits, cleanly parting him from an arm and a leg. Owl landed on his good leg and, as his other began to reattach, swung the other at Senji only for the crow to pin his departed leg to the ground with his blade. Seidou’s good hand was at Senji’s throat now, gripping tightly. Senji was looking into his face to find that one eye was rolling in its socket, the other boring into him, glowing crimson with the sclera painted inky black. Time froze.

Shut up already.

Lifting the hand gripping Senji’s throat, Seidou shoved his now-regenerated hand into Senji’s abdomen as the crow sliced at the owl’s chest.

Jumping, Seidou spun around and kicked his attached foot at Senji’s upper torso, consequently yanking his hand out of the Deadman’s gut and dropping him to the ground. Seidou was on him in an instant, his leg reattaching at last. “Can’t hurt me—don’t hurt, no more.” His speech was broken. “You smell—of sweets, very good, but I know this smell—like sour candy, yeah, I found one, like that. Ah.” Grimacing beneath Seidou, Senji choked on the blood coming up in his esophagus. Seidou’s ghoul eye narrowed at him, the other lost in some impenetrable daze. “Let’s say you’re right, and I have a hero. Had a hero. Let’s say you’re like them, or like me. Let’s say that. Okay?”

“If it makes ya feel good,” Senji rasped, and Seidou looked down at him without expression, his fingers tightening around his neck. He’d already brought his free arm up upon his back smashing into the ground, Owl atop him. His blade was going straight through Seidou, and he wasn’t moving yet. Maybe if he kept it there, it wouldn’t heal, or something. Mind you, in stabbing Seidou, who was atop him, with the long blade of his subconsciously evolved Crow Claw… In stabbing him, Senji had also gotten himself in the side. They were both stabbed through with the same blade. Skewered together, if you will.

“You know what I think of that person now? You know what I really, truly feel about that person today?”

“What’s—that?” Senji squinted at him through his grimace, looking for perhaps just a glimmer of reason.

“I HATE him,” Seidou said simply, and tore Senji’s head from his neck with ease, spraying the red above his body, which seized and was still. The blood-blades began to slowly disintegrate.

“Ah,” Seidou remarked, holding the head up and gazing at the decapitated cranium with stale joy. “It still came off easy, like… like a freshly picked pineapple…” He tilted his head to the side. “Don’t… worry. I, can be a hero, too… if I—really want. Right?"


Yato was embedded in the ground, teeth gritted and eyes flashing blue. Nora was straining herself going against Kaneki’s kagune. He sure wasn’t holding back. When I last saw him, he was nowhere near this bad, thought the God of Calamity, envisioning any possible way of getting out of this mess while Kaneki landed heavily atop him with eyes wild, human eye completely blank white. He might’ve been this bad fighting Seidou… but… at what point did he…?

I’m not strong enough for this fight. Not right now. I’ve been able to dodge up until this point, but I really need to flee… I’d have tried to manipulate my way around this, but… ah, is a conversation doable?

“To live,” said Kaneki through bared teeth, “…is to eat.”

Nora was practically vibrating in Yato’s hand out of outrage.

“Strong devour weak. You, weak. You do nothing; take, take, take. To eat, to steal. Evil. Like me.” He licked his lips in anticipation, then bit out, “Guess I’m hungry again.”

The god abruptly brought his legs up with all the force he could muster, sending Kaneki tumbling over his head, somersaulting above him somewhere. His kagune lashed at him in sudden rage, and Yato rolled over as quickly as possible, jumping to his feet and backing up, gaining a bit of distance. His breathing was heavy. This is a really bad situation. I could die here, easy…

“Hey, Kaneki, I have to ask…,” Yato began slowly, carefully eyeing the half-ghoul in case he decided to pounce. “I know I up and attacked you and your group. I can understand my own motives, because they’re my own. Are you simply responding in kind? Or is there another purpose to your attack?”

Kaneki straightened, tilting his head and quirking an eyebrow questioningly. “Agh… something like that… If I were to say something like ‘justice,’ it would just be a lie. Because you killed Saiko? Because you attacked ‘my group’? They’re great excuses, if we’re talking morality. But on the high road, wouldn’t I also spare you, who are handicapped with your deep wounds? Wouldn’t I spare you for having been my ally at one time? Wouldn’t I, for the sake of trying to save you?”

Yato was dumbfounded. He knew not the basis of ‘morals.’ If Yato were Kaneki, he would have killed this asshole god for betraying him. “I… guess so.”

“Then logically speaking, I guess the right answer would be, ‘I am trying to catch you while you’re weak. You, who are now a threat to everyone else, need to be disposed of.’ This is true, but under logic’s standpoint, wouldn’t I be doing the exact same thing as you, taking advantage of your weakness and killing you while you’re down? That nullifies the very logic I’d be following, wouldn’t it? So then, why attack when I could use tactical incapacitation? For convenience’s sake? Maybe.” Kaneki laughed, and Yato narrowed his luminescent eyes. “No, the truth isn’t really any of that. Maybe I want you gone because you’re nothing but a rotten coffee bean that needs to be disposed of, but that also means I’m rotten, right? Right? I’d say so. But actually, even if I say I want to protect everyone else by killing you… Even if I say I’m fighting out of passionate rage because you hurt a ‘friend’… Even if I say I’m fighting to help others… Really, it’s none of that.”

Yato was getting lost here. “Okay, well then, what is it?” he asked, his knuckles white as his grip tightened on the wooden hilt.

Kaneki gave an eerie smile, his eyes wide with manic glee. “It’s all part of a show. Do I really want to save everyone? No. I do want to destroy trash like you. You disgust me – I’m sick of pretending to care about everyone. Is it that I’ve done all I have for the sake of others—is it that I’m selfless? Absolutely not. Every single time, I was hoping for my opponent to kill me. I’d rather wear myself down and die, leaving everyone behind to mourn my fate… as long as it meant I didn’t lose any of them first. Is it that I wanted to protect others, at that time? No, I just feared being alone. It really isn’t so bad, though, is it, o God of Calamity? Surely you know the hollow taste of loneliness, Yato-sama. You, a god who only steals…” Yato clicked his tongue in irritation, taking a step back. “Ah… I wonder, then, about your creator… You know?” He laughed a bit. “You seemed so different before, huh? But imagine the tale of a son disgusted by his parent’s depravity…  Imagine the moment he realizes the same cruel impulses are budding within himself. It’s a cycle, you know… Yato.” Kaneki took a step forward, glowing in cruel mirth. “Why did I fight you?” He spread his arms; his black-nailed hands. “Because I wanted to. Because it feels good. Because I love the feel of fighting; because you taste great. Because if I beat you, eat you; if you’re defeated by my hand, that makes me stronger, right? Because you hurt me, and I’m sick of getting stepped on. Because I know that you are weak, and because you are weak, I have every right to devour you. That’s why.” He tilted his head, cracking his knuckle using his thumb. “Make sense?”

“I guess that means this is unnegotiable, huh?” Yato smirked coldly, and Kaneki was suddenly before him, his kagune clashing with Nora full-force.

“Correct,” the half-ghoul grinned.

The repetitive contact between kagune and Shinki was jarring and painful. Hang in there, Hiiro…!

Just as Yato had jumped backwards in an attempt to regain some distance; just as Kaneki was about to impale him with his kagune, he was sure; just as Yato braced himself for the worst and held Nora before him in defensive position… Kaneki froze. Yato felt time stop, his heart jolting in confused fear. Why isn’t he moving?

The god listened: to the south, he heard the sounds of a fight. That must be Seidou… At least that went right.

Kaneki was frozen in place, his gaze turned sharply to where the sound was coming from. Yato could see him trembling as though something within him was fighting to escape.

He’s distracted, thought Yato, shrinking further into defense. Do I strike him now, or hightail it out of here…?

Kaneki couldn’t return to reality. He was captured by something familiar, and it was terrifying. That… he thought, sounded like…

By the time Kaneki would so much as spare a glance back at Yato, the god was gone.


Seidou had made a beeline for the three he knew were hiding in the trees soon after he’d decapitated Senji. By ‘soon after,’ of course, it is meant that Seidou had to have a bit of a sour snack before he went about to find more toys to tear into. As it turned out, Shinichi was ready and waiting for him, his face a mask of rage as he charged from the trees and at the half-ghoul without any forethought put into his attack. Seidou, pleased with the welcome, dodged from one of his punches, his fist fwooshing past Owl’s ear.

Shinichi, what are you thinking?!” Rin protested from the trees. “We could have retreated!

“No! I hate this! I’m not running off anymore!”

Hide stared at the fight, expressionless. His eyes shone with the calculations of every inference and possible action to take from here.

Having fun with the game, Seidou continued to dance around Shinichi’s physical attacks. “You’re pretty fast after all!” he complimented delightedly.

“Another dead,” Shinichi said lowly. “And why? Why do we keep killing people, huh?”

Seidou finally gave a swipe at him, and Shinichi bound into the air, high above the half-ghoul. Staring upwards in awe, Seidou made an ooo sound. “I forgot, little you can jump pretty high, too.” He laughed a snide laugh. “Fun!”

Shinichi cut off his mirth with a kick to the back that Seidou answered with the gripping of Shinichi’s ankle, swinging him overhead and slamming him to the ground.

Quit it!” called Hide, standing beside Rin, who was outstretching her injured arm, stabilizing it with her other in preparation to shoot curses Seidou’s way. “Damn, is that any way to greet a friend?”

Seidou poked his head back up, staring blankly in Hide’s direction.

“Do ya remember me, man?” Hide asked, friendly as ever. Was he frightened? Oh, absolutely. He laughed lightly as he approached Seidou, who had his foot pressed to Shinichi’s back. His gut was telling him he was a dumbass, and he could feel his blood running with static. Depending on how he approached this, it could become a miracle or a tragedy. I’ll be the Miracle Man; let’s go!

“I could be mistaken, which would be über awkward, but… you are Takizawa, right?”

Slowly, Seidou tilted his head. “Naga…chika, kun,” he said haltingly, and Hide beamed at him.

“Yeah, that’s me! You’ve got it! To think, ya almost didn’t say hi! It’s been forever, man. I like the new getup you’ve got going on. Starting a new fashion movement?”

Seidou blinked.

“I see you’re not wearing shoes,” Hide analyzed, hand to his chin as he squinted his eyes to the point of being nearly shut. Seidou’s eyes flickered. Ah, he must have lost his sandals at some point. “Hmm… I hate shoes too!” And with that, he swiftly took off his dress shoes. “I dig it.” He looked at Seidou once more, hands on his hips. “So! Been awhile since we’ve chilled, huh? Maybe we can have a chat?”

Seidou flinched.

Shinichi, still on the ground, watched Hide with a mix of fear and pain. Rin, amongst the trees, slowly lowered her arm, though still on guard. I hate alliances… Having to worry about others like this; it’s inconvenient… She let out a tch from her clenched teeth. Although, going out and risking his life… Trying to save that white-haired creep… It reminds of my partner. Ah… Shirou. She squeezed her eyes shut, cooling her mind. Hide, don’t die here. Senji—he must have… She drew her lips together, unwilling to accept the fact she was upset. Idiots.

“I get it; I get it…,” said the human Hide, shrugging nonchalantly. “Yeah, I’m missing a lot, here, but that just means we’ve got a lot to catch up on, huh?” He spread his arms. “I’ve got loads of time.”

Seidou stared at him for a few moments, lips parted slightly. His teeth were stained red. “We… shared lunch—back then.”

“Yeah, like that!” he beamed back. “I can try ‘n make ya some coffee, if ya want. I’m not too well-versed in coffee brewery, but hey, I’ll give it a go to hang out.”

“Share…?” He looked down at Shinichi, then back at Hide. Down. Back up again. “Ah!” In flash of joyous enlightenment, Seidou reached down and took hold of Shinichi’s right arm.

“Hey, Takizawa… That’s not…”

Pulling upwards, Shinichi’s right arm was broken easily with a snap. Hide winced. Shinichi cried out in pain. Using his foot to keep Shinichi down, Seidou pulled the lower arm apart, detaching it at the elbow. In a happy, homey show, he lifted it with a spatter of red. Seidou’s brow was creased, his smile wide but strained. “You wanna, share lunch?” His eyes widened. “Hah? Nagachika-kun, you want some? Want some?”

“Ah, uh, no thanks…,” Hide answered apologetically, holding up his hands in something like peace. “I’m… not into…” He paused. He really needed to word this right. “People really aren’t my preference when it comes to food…”

Seidou paused. He looked at the arm in his hand, then smiled hollowly. “Yeahhh, you’re right, this smells bitter. Must still got that gross parasite in his blood. Yuck.” Dismissively, he tossed the appendage to the side. “Too bad.” He kicked Shinichi in the side, earning a satisfying snap originating from Shinichi’s ribs. “Nagachika-kun, you sure were a great friend, weren’t you? Where’d ya go, huh? I’m sure… that it’s true I have no reason to be mad at you.”

“Yeah? That’s good,” Hide said, and realized his voice was ever so slightly weak. He cleared his throat, going strong. “Did Shinichi here hurt ya? Senji? Something between you guys going on?”

“Not really,” Seidou admitted. “But you sure got some nice meat on your bones!” Stepping away from Shinichi, the partial parasite immediately rolled over and began to choke, holding his stub arm to his chest and wrapping his good arm around both injuries, gasping for air. “You’re right, Nagachika-kun, you sure have missed a lot. You have no idea… what I… have…”

Hide’s eyes grew sad. “You’re lost too, huh? Stuck on your own… for how long, I wonder?” He took a step towards Seidou, and the half-ghoul took a step back. Hide scratched at his cheek, looking away. “You don’t… have to be alone, you know, Seidou… I want… to help you out.”

Seidou stared at him blankly, then narrowed his eyes in angry suspicion. “Liar.” He hated looking at him; this visage of the past; this picture of human life. A painful reminder. He should shut up. He should disappear. “Shut the fuck up with your fake empathy.”

“Wha?” Hide looked at him in surprise. “No, man, I’m serious.”

Shut up.

“Takizawa, I’m really only—”

“SHUT UP!” Seidou sped forward, arm poised to tear into him. Destroy the epitome of what was denied him. How dare Nagachika think he could just try and bring it back; think it could all be okay with a cup of coffee and a little chat? How dare he? How dare he?

Hide had barely any time to react. I thought I could get through to him, he thought. Maybe I was wrong. He was moving to block his face, legs bending to send him into a crouch. He knew he wasn’t fast enough to dodge this, but maybe if he braced himself the right way, he’d survive. The half-ghoul was aiming for his chest, though—he wanted him dead as quick as possible.

Hide closed his eyes as he prepared for impact. He had the fleeting thought that maybe this was the end. He wanted to apologize, but hadn’t the time to even put this realization into words. He felt a gust of wind, and a shadow descended overtop him. Confused, he opened his eyes.

Seidou was just as surprised, having jabbed his pale hand into the grip of Ken Kaneki, standing with wide stance before Hide, his kagune fanned out behind him in a protective shield. It was as though someone had hit the pause button. And… play. Seidou staggeringly pulled from Kaneki’s grip, jumping backwards to gain distance. Kaneki’s eyes were wide in his own form of astonishment, as though even he didn’t know what he was doing here. Upon Seidou’s leave, Kaneki tremored. He seemed near collapse.

He sees me. Hide sees me. He sees me. He sees me. Incapable of comprehending such a terrible thought, he brought his hand to his ghoul eye even though Hide was behind him.

“Kaneki? Is—is that you?” Hide asked blankly, releasing the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “That… was…”

His kagune began to shrivel, like his insides. No…

“…So freaking cool!” Hide cried in delight. “That was great, bud! I always knew you had my back! Thanks, man!”

And with that, Kaneki’s legs gave out from beneath him. What have I been…? How could I… do, that…? “Oh, no… I, am so… sorry… I’m sorry…”

“Huh? For what?”

“So now you’re suddenly playing nice again, the moment you see this guy,” scoffed Seidou. “Cute. Pretending you’ve still got proper feelings. How very convenient of you to act ‘human’ once you see someone that you’d rather not know the truth. Isn’t that it? Huh?”

Kaneki curled forward, trembling as he felt the tears spilling. No… No… No… It was a mental mantra, tearing into himself.

“Hey, look here,” frowned Hide. “Just ‘cause ‘Neki’s got a strange way of expressing himself… just because he has trouble with it, doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel anything at all!” He laughed a bit. “Trust me, I’ve got my fair share of stories about this guy that proves he’s got the full package of something like ‘feelings.’ If there’s any problem, it’s that he’s got too much empathy. Even if he’s changed, Kaneki is still Kaneki!”

Seidou glowered at him, eyes burning. He seemed about to erupt with something poisonous, but it was at that point that Shinichi had struggled to his feet, confronting Seidou from behind. “You thought I was done?” the partial-parasite asked lowly, and swiped at him only for Seidou to catch him by the wrist. Expecting this, Shinichi countered back immediately. “You think this is a handicap?” he asked, and barked with laughter. “I’m used to having no control of my right hand!” Shinichi managed to land a punch to Seidou’s head, earning much irritation.

“Annoying,” he commented.

“No, I’m sick and tired of this ‘monster’ bullshit. I’m tired of wondering who the hell I am. Emotionless… no! I’m angry! I’m mad! I’m outraged! I want to live, too! I lost control of my life the day I got infected with a parasite, and god damn it, that little guy became my friend! Am I me? Are you you? Is Kaneki Kaneki? We’re all so fucked over; I just—want—it—to—stop! Stop! End it! End it! Everything is gone! It’s gone! What am I supposed to do? What do I do?”

Kaneki stared at him, struck speechless with how familiar it all sounded.

“I don’t know; I don’t—KNOW!” Seidou shouted back, slamming his foot into his back and sending him back to the ground. Seidou was then consequently shot with a ball of static red. After wheeling around to see the culprit, he found Rin standing there, firmly holding her arm out to aim her curses.

“Leave us alone, already!” she snapped. “It’s four against one, you know!”

Seidou’s mouth twitched, but his eyes cleared. “You two are pathetic. Kaneki; Shinichi… We all have our roles, so play them properly, why don’t you? All three of us are monsters.” With an indignant yell, Shinichi resumed their dance.

“But I don’t want to fight…,” Kaneki said, looking up at them with a weary, tear-streaked face. “Please, stop… I’m, sorry for… what I… I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m…”

The owl burst into laughter. “Look at all these people; I guess they’ve got your back, huh? You lucky fucker!” Spreading his red wings, he bound into the air, speeding around crimson curses that Rin shot after him. Soon enough, the Owl was in the woods, leaving behind turmoil and reunion alike. That wasn’t, of course, before he showered them all with crystals that pierced flesh.

“Well, that was… interesting,” commented Hide, scratching at his cheek. “In the end, I am glad… I wanted to meet up with you, Kaneki.”

Kaneki stared at him with bemused gratefulness. His eyes softened, his ghoul eye fading to its original grey.

“In any case,” Hide added as Shinichi joined them slowly, Rin approaching from behind the cheeriest of them. “…It looks like we’ve all got a lot to catch up on.” As he grinned wide, it seemed to Kaneki that nothing had really changed about Hide after all. Oddly, he thought that maybe he felt a smile touching his own lips.

 

Chapter 62: Familiar

Chapter Text

 

Minene led her makeshift group down as far as the game field would let them, sending them right to one of the two traditional homes in the southernmost portion of the play area. The group of five – Celty, Yukiteru, Akise, Minene, and Rika – took refuge here. Yukiteru, swept up in some sudden depression, up and went to one of the bedrooms without acknowledging the fact that there was an items pillar smack dab in the middle of the living room.

“You think Yukiteru is alright, Akise?” asked Rika softly, and Minene answered before the boy detective could take a breath.

“He’s fine. He’s just gotta get over himself.”

Akise eyed the annoyed terrorist for a moment, watching as she abruptly sat down on the floor, legs criss-cross. “Ah…” He looked at Rika with a reassuring smile. “I’m sure Yukiteru-kun will be fine, Rika-chan.”

Celty seemed to be examining the area, but it was hard to tell with that helmet on. [I’ve never been this far south before.] she commented, and Akise shrugged.

“This game field seems to be of good size. Certainly enough room for however many players to move around without running into one another too terribly often… Personally, I showed up in this house, so it’s my first impression of the game.”

“I like this house better than the rest,” said Rika, spreading her arms and breathing deeply. Releasing it in a refreshed sigh, she smiled brightly. “I am more used to this setting, you see… I’ve never been to a city like the one north of here.”

[Really?] asked Celty. [I live in a city, so I can’t say that it’s all too strange to me.] Pause. [But I find this place to be very cozy. I’m glad we’re here for now.]

“Eh, it’s just a good place to go,” Minene sighed, stretching. “In this game, you can’t really stay one place too long or someone’ll run into ya eventually. You’re right about it being a biggish area, Akise, but if one thing’s for sure, it’s that no matter what, you’re gonna bump into other groups.”

Celty hesitated, then typed out, [I have to agree with that.] Pause. [You could almost say that we’re not permitted to sit idly. It’s not entertainment that way.] … [Not that this is fun at all, but I’m sure that’s the way the masters are going about this.]

“I completely agree,” said Akise. “Which is why we need to figure out how to work our way around the game masters’ traps. I’m actually rather disappointed…”

[What’s that?]

“What about, Akise?” asked Rika as she knelt primly beside the casual Minene.

“I very much liked Twelve and Suzuya-kun. It’s a shame that we had to part ways… Hm.” Putting his hands in his pockets, he smirked. “Oh well… Seems we’ve lost A-ya, too. I wish I could have gotten to know him better, seeing as Yukiteru-kun was so close to him.”

“He’s possessed; that’s all we’ve gotta know right now,” Minene said dismissively. “Yukki will get over it.”

[I’m more bothered by how we split…] Celty tentatively held up her phone, then added, [A-ya, if that’s his name, really wanted to break off, but was it because he was possessed?] Tap, tap, tap. [Did he not want to hurt us? Or were we in his way? Is he playing the part of the villain? Or does he think he’s saving us?] Tap, tap, tap. [What if it wasn’t even A-ya? It could be that the demon was talking, couldn’t it?]

“I don’t think it was the demon speaking there, Celty-san,” Akise said, a note of apology in his tone.

“I saw how it was when the demon had full control,” Rika said seriously, her eyes gaining some maturity though she maintained her childish demeanor. “Most of that there was A-ya. I do not know whether the demon had influenced him to say those things or not, but it was definitely him who was speaking.”

“It is true that he broke off without forcing anyone along,” Akise pointed out. “And none of us were killed.”

“But Akise,” Minene frowned, “Roy’s dead.”

Akise touched his chin. “I know. But who was the one who killed Roy: A-ya, or the demon?”

“The demon,” Rika said immediately.

[Maybe that boy A-ya needs some help after all?]

“Possibly,” agreed Akise, closing his eyes. “I’ll talk to Yukiteru-kun about it as soon as he comes out of his room. Whatever he decides on A-ya’s behalf, I’ll trust him.”

“I dunno,” Minene said doubtfully, “his judgment isn’t always so great, Akise. He got caught up with Yuno too, remember? So just because he says that A-ya’s pretty damned fantastic, it doesn’t mean that he was really all that great a guy. Y’know?”

“Ah, but Minene, I pose this question: if the demon were the one to break off from the group, would we all be alive right now?”

She frowned deeply. “Hell if I know.”

“And was it A-ya or the demon that came up with the idea?”

“Damned if I care,” she answered stubbornly, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Oh, alright, Minene,” Akise chuckled, eyeing the pulsing purple pillar placed in the center of the room.

Celty seemed to notice his curiosity. [I wonder if it will activate for any of us.]

“You can try, Celty-san,” welcomed Akise, gesturing to it. “I tried when I first appeared here, but earned no results.”

[Then, where did you get those papers? Izaya mentioned you’d given them to him.]

Akise shrugged. “I figured it was my ‘weapon’ when Izaya implied that everyone was supposed to have one. They were already in my hands upon my arrival. I have a few other useful trinkets, too, if you remember, Celty,” he smiled slyly, and she straightened.

Like that bulletproof vest? Why does it seem… that he has multiple ‘weapons’? But none of them really seem like weapons at all… They’re just… tools? Equipment? Ah… As she tried to form a question to type in order to voice these thoughts, Akise spoke up again.

“Speaking of which, Celty-san, I have to wonder. How do you feel about Izaya-san’s decision?”

She hesitated. [Well, I’m not surprised.] A pause. Her typing was slower than normal. [But… maybe I am?] Tap, tap, tap. [Was that really the Izaya choice to make, siding with a demon? Or maybe it was A-ya he was siding with? Either way…] Tap, tap, tap. [Obviously he should have a motive of his own. Izaya is Izaya in that way. Right?]

“You’re probably right,” Akise laughed lightly.

[But truthfully…] Tap, tap, tap. [As strange as it is, I think I’m worried about him.]

“It’s not so strange at all, Celty-san,” Akise assured her, posture shifting back as he exhaled deeply. “Although, I do have an idea of what I think we should do…”

“Oh yeah?” asked Minene, quirking an eyebrow at him as she smirked.

They were halted by the activation of the items pillar – Minene, Akise, and Rika all turned to find Celty stiffening in surprise as the static silhouette presented itself before her, arms spread wide. “Congratulations!” greeted the voice. “You’ve discovered an items pillar!” Celty waved her arms around in rejection, backing up quickly.

“I guess it works for you, Celty-san,” said Akise, contentedly amused.

“Hah?” Minene got to her feet. “It works for us?”

[I wanted to wait for Yukiteru!] Celty’s typing was rushed and upset.

Due to special circumstances, Celty is the only survivor from the female game that can utilize these modules. All others from the female games have not been input into the system.

“Hey, what’s up with that?” Minene protested. Rika was looking up at her with childish joy, almost as though she found her frustration funny or cute.

Yukiteru Amano has his own selection screen, as he is the only one originating from Group 3,” explained the game master, smile in their tone. “Even if you use this module, it will still activate upon his approach.

Celty began typing, then hesitated. She held up the message, [Can you see my screen to communicate?]

That’s correct, Celty,” they seemed to grin.

[Why is it that I can activate the special items screen?]

I think you know the answer to that question.” Now the grin was visible; a black crescent upturned in all the Voice’s pleasure.

Celty paused, her posture erect. Aureus? she thought.

“Wait, what’s that?” frowned Minene.

“I’d like to know; that is so~” Rika piped in.

Celty turned her helmet nervously from one to another, her thumb trembling over the keyboard on her phone.

“It could be,” pointed out Akise, “that Celty-san can’t explain what this is about without consequence.”

That’s correct, Akise,” confirmed the Voice, oozing with amusement.

Minene scoffed and sat herself back down with a thump, greatly annoyed.

Thank you for your participation!” the Voice chirped, and disappeared. A yellow screen was projected before the Dullahan, and Celty touched lightly where her chin would be.

“What is it, Celty?” inquired Rika, staring wide-eyed up at the rider.

She only stepped closer to the screen, looking upon the hologram with apprehension. Her item… it was Familiar.

Shooter! she inwardly exclaimed, bringing both physical and phantom hand to her chest. The living urban legend seemed to sparkle in anticipation. My horse… could it really be that I can have him at my side, even here? Oh, I miss him! She recalled the conversation she’d had with Aureus:

“Don’t you worry, li’l lady,” that goofy boy had beamed, holding up two thumbs and waggling them back and forth.

Little lady? she echoed in her head, straightening in confusion over whether it was a compliment or… well, not.

“I won’t hold it against you, not choosing to accept my cool item. I’m a little sore, but…” He’d paused, then grinned, clicking with his tongue. “Whenever you come to one of the item selection things, I’ll make sure you’ve got some sweet items, alright? Maybe they won’t be so drastic as the one you get down here, but they’ll be a little extra awesome. How’s that?”

Cut back to the present, where Celty was overflowing with gratitude. Thank you, Aureus! Tapping quickly, she inquired of the others, [Should I select now, or wait for Yukiteru?]

“Just get your damned item,” grumbled Minene, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. She turned her face away from Celty in indignation. “Since you’re the only chick veteran that gets an item, might as well put it to use as soon as possible, right?” She swiveled her eye to look at the dark rider, who was shifting from foot to foot in apologetic discomfort. “What is it, anyway?”

[My familiar, Shooter!] Her posture aided the molding of her tone as one of excess excitement. [He’s my horse.] Tap-tap-tap. [I’ve had him for as long as I can remember…]

“Go on ahead, Celty-san,” encouraged Akise, nodding at her. “I know Yukiteru-kun will understand.”

She nodded her helmet emphatically before pressing the button. A flash of white light enveloped her, blocking visibility until the light died enough for the results to be seen. Celty paused. Before her, there was only the pillar. Shooter? She felt something on her shoulder and jerked her arm forward, startled. What? Clinging with all its tiny might, there was an armadillo fighting to remain on the biker’s shoulder. It squealed in protest at her sudden movement, but she put her existing hand to its back to stabilize it. It’s… Kincho? Why?

Minene was stifling her laughter.

“I don’t suppose that’s your horse, Celty,” commented Rika, and the Dullahan appeared to deflate.

Ah, I did wonder where this little guy had gone, she thought in admittance, lifting Kincho carefully from her shoulder and cradling him in her arms. He grunted at her in approval. Kincho: Azami Midou’s pet armadillo, who Celty had taken care of since day one, seeing as Azami had been killed the first day of the games. The mammal had taken an immediate liking to Celty, which normally would be strange… But really, Celty couldn’t blame him, with the other two in the group being as crazy and frightening as they were, and with Azami getting killed within the first hour of the game.

She seemed to sigh. I’m glad he’s alright, anyway…

“An armadillo, Celty?” inquired Akise, admittedly bemused as he touched his chin in wonder.

“Nice familiar you’ve got,” Minene snickered.

[This wasn’t exactly what I was expecting…] Celty admitted. [Everyone, this is Kincho.] she introduced, and began explaining where he was from.

Rika was smiling happily, listening to the other three getting swept up in the adventures of the armadillo. They were involved enough that they wouldn’t notice her mumbling to herself. She gave a soft, droning hum, her eyes dulling.

“Something wrong, Rika?” Hanyuu asked her worriedly from behind her. She could only be seen and heard by Rika right now, just how the goddess preferred.

“Hanyuu…,” Rika addressed her under her breath, and the goddess stiffened in fear.

“Um, yes, Rika?”

“…I want you to go to Izaya’s group,” she told her softly, and the lavender-haired one jerked in surprise.

Wha…?” She began furiously shaking her head. “No-o-o… I-I don’t want to!”

Rika folded her hands over her mouth, closing her eyes. “I want you to keep an eye on them.” Her voice was barely audible. “Let me know what they’re doing… or if anything goes wrong at all. Anything notable.”

“But Rika,” Hanyuu protested. “I… I don’t like Izaya at all…”

Rika’s mouth twitched beneath her folded hands. She almost laughed. “I do.”

“Auu…”

“You don’t have to reveal yourself to them if you don’t want to. You’re allowed to mess with them, even, if you want. I’d just like to know how they’re doing.”

“Au, au—uauauuu…,” she wailed in distress, and Rika sighed lightly.

“I’d go there myself, but you are transparent and untouchable. I am a target that can be injured and killed. Think of it as an undercover mission; act as a spy. Maybe we can use the knowledge of their plans to our advantage somehow.”

“Uuu, I don’t like this, one bit,” Hanyuu frowned, shaking her head. “Fine… Fine… Oh, Rika, are you sure?

“Absolutely.”

Hanyuu sighed heavily. “I will be back, Rika…,” she mumbled, and dissipated.

Rika smiled, opening her eyes. “Thank you, Hanyuu,” she murmured, and lowered her hands, tuning back into the conversation. Akise was looking at her with suspicious curiosity, but what Rika returned him was a childish beam and a light, “Ni~paa~”


Hanyuu materialized above the four that made up Izaya’s group. Invisible to them, she hovered behind them as their shadow, listening in on a conversation that Twelve was having with Suzuya. Eerily, Izaya and A-ya were silent, their faces devoid of much expression. They were the ones leading the group, and they were heading directly into the city area. Currently, Twelve was brightly talking about what a great time it would be working with the other three. “Well, four counting the… demon? Are you really possessed, A-ya?”

“That’s right,” A-ya answered flatly, and Izaya spun around to face Twelve and Suzuya, walking backwards and grinning wide.

“A-ya-kun here has a very specific demon, you see,” he elucidated, holding up a finger, adorned with a silver ring. “There was once a player in-game named ‘Kuroha,’ who was an android possessed by the very demon that dwells in A-ya-kun now.”

“Can we talk to it?” asked Suzuya, wide-eyed.

Izaya blinked, then looked at A-ya. The occult-lover only shrugged.

“I think that’s a yes,” said Twelve, “but whether he answers is a gamble.”

“Does he like killing stuff?” inquired Suzuya, and Twelve slapped his hand to his forehead.

“Good lord, Suzuya,” he laughed.

“I’d say so,” Izaya shrugged. “The fun and terrible part about this is that this demon – ‘Kuroha,’ for simplicity’s sake – is the reason that Yukine is dead! Yukine, you see, is the previous weapon used by Yato. After he died, Yato just fell apart, which is where we are today!” the informant explained brightly.

“Oh, no wonder he wants to kill you, Izaya!” cried Twelve in delight. “You sure are an asshole!”

“Asshole,” Suzuya repeated happily, enjoying the cussing.

“Yeah, well,” Izaya shrugged, and spun back around. “I already knew that.” Upon facing forward, his smile quickly dropped despite the fact there was still a lightness to his steps.

“You sure are interesting, Izaya,” remarked Twelve. “I like it.” Humming thoughtfully, something occurred to him. “Ah, Suzuya, there’s something I’m wondering,” said the terrorist, and the CCG officer blinked at him blankly.

“Huh?”

“See, I’ve been thinking about this desensitization thing,” Twelve began, gesturing about with his hands. “I’ve walked alongside death since I was a little kid, and I’m sure you’ve done the same. There comes a point where it doesn’t really matter to you anymore when someone dies. It’s a casual event. It’s something you’ve said yourself. Right?”

“Yeah.” Suzuya picked at the red threads sewn into his lower lip, tilting his head. He had no clue where the terrorist could be going with this.

“When Roy died, neither of us were really affected. I bet even Izaya wasn’t all too fazed.”

Izaya gave a little bit of a heh, but otherwise didn’t respond, glancing over at A-ya. The possessed boy had a vague look of discomfort flitting over his features, his shoulders tensing. His hands were clenched at his sides, his pace faltering ever so slightly. He didn’t look back at Izaya. Lightly, the informant ruffled the raven hair atop his head, and A-ya ducked out of the way in surprise, looking at Izaya with eyes that had obviously just been lost in deep thought, only just snapped to attention by the informant’s hand. Izaya grinned at him, and A-ya blinked before frowning, looking to the ground as he ran a hand through his dark locks. Izaya stifled his laughter. A-ya made no other expression of protest or otherwise.

While this little interaction went on, Twelve continued with his discussion: “There are a lot of people from that other group we could admittedly lose without much emotional distress on our part, right? That’s just how it works when you’re used to it—when death isn’t scary anymore. But everyone has a handful… yeah, at least one person that they’d like to keep at their side. They don’t want to let them go – meaning, they don’t want them to die. Suzuya, do you have people – or a person – like that? Surely.”

“No,” Suzuya answered simply, some form of perplexity crossing over the distant disconnection reflected in his grey orbs.

“Hmm…” Twelve thought on this. “Even if I were to die, would you feel sad?”

“No,” he repeated flatly, looking straight at the terrorist without expression.

“Huhh?” the brown-haired one cried. He held his heart in mock pain, closing one eye as he laughed.

Izaya tittered gleefully. “Suzu-chan, saying things like that, you sound like a monster.”

“I won’t say sorry,” Suzuya informed him coolly. “Why I should I apologize for being a monster? No one said sorry for making me one.”

A pause.

“Oh no, don’t you worry, Suzu-chan, it’s nothing like that,” Izaya grinned. “As terrible as monsters are, you aren’t the only one. Twelve’s a monster himself, just of a different shade.”

As is Liar,” A-ya added, tone lower than was normal for him. Colder. “Seems we have a collection of monsters on our hands,” he said, and laughed cruelly.

The demon we really seek, huh? thought A-ya. Every one of us… “It makes things… less boring,” he said in his own voice.

“That’s more than true,” laughed Izaya.

“Man, that’s mean,” Twelve sighed, looking at Suzuya out of the corner of his eye. “I’d be upset if you died, y’know.”

Suzuya stared at him. “Why?”

The sincerity of the inquiry struck him, and Twelve gazed downwards, joyous expression dying. “How do I put it?” It wasn’t like he didn’t know the very question: why would anyone care for you as a person?

Izaya’s mouth twitched. For him, what did it matter whether anyone cared? What did he need that for? He was detached from the world, he needed not the bonds that other people had. He didn’t need them at all; they were just ties that tied you down. That was all. Sure, it would be fun for people to love him in turn, but that’s not what the game was about anyway, was it? No. Of course not.

A-ya’s expression was hard. For him, something like that didn’t matter; it shouldn’t when something like death was something that could be fixed with the snap of someone’s fingers. Reset.

“I like you, Suzuya,” said Twelve. “That’s why.”

Things like caring for someone else… It’s lovely to watch, but incredibly inconvenient, thought Izaya. Don’t you realize, Twelve? You’ve just created a weakness for yourself.

Caring about someone… thought A-ya, …is inconsequential, cut in the Clearing Eyes Snake. Lives, hearts, meetings, memories, deaths – they are lacking. Worthless. I feel like I’m reading a storybook. A play, A-ya agreed. A tragedy, they thought together. Repeating itself like this… …it makes me yawn. What an ugly tale, the recurring fate of ‘love.’

Suzuya said, “Everything. We lose everything we’re given. Whether I live or die, it’s really no big deal.”

Twelve drew his lips into a thin line, not answering at first. A few moments passed. The terrorist sighed heavily as a prefix to his response, halting in his walking. “How can you go about things in that way?” Confusedly, everyone stopped as he did, turning to him. “Saying you shouldn’t care about something because you’ll lose it eventually is the same as holding no worth in your own life! Since we all die eventually, tell me, what is it you want to do before your time is up? There shouldn’t be a price tag on the fact that we exist – I, who was never meant to be, who has been shunned by my world for daring to exist… If our existences are all fleeting… which they are… then enjoy it while it lasts!” He took a deep breath, inhaling the refreshing air. The others were silent. “Right now, the four of us here: we’re here, aren’t we? Can’t we just exist together? If every one of us is shut out from the world for whatever reason, can’t we celebrate that we’re far from alone?”

A-ya’s eyes flickered. Alone, together? He thought of holding Yukiteru’s hand under the night sky. The stars had never been so beautiful before. Even the serpent within him was retreating inward, his discomfort thickening A-ya’s own emotional response. These humans are strange, Saeru thought carefully.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Suzuya answered Twelve, tilting his head.

Izaya laughed, breaking the odd atmosphere that had settled on them all. “Careful with your philosophy, Twelve! It may be beyond Suzu-chan!”

“Ah, well—” Twelve began, but cut himself off as Suzuya swiped at Izaya with his scythe. The informant dodged easily. “That’s fine,” the terrorist laughed. “It was worth a shot! If there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that nobody can go on without some connections with other people. Because all alone, without something like ‘love,’ you really are nothing but a monster, aren’t you? We, as people, slowly die without someone to care about, whoever they may be. That’s the mechanism of ‘people.’”

There was a flicker of disdain in A-ya’s eyes originating from the demon possessing him.

“The mechanism of ‘people,’ hah?” Izaya reiterated, eyes narrowing. His smile was thin.

“I don’t think so,” answered Suzuya distractedly, beginning to continue in their walk. Izaya and A-ya, after glancing at one another and getting a shrug from the informant, followed his lead and continued with him.

Twelve cheerily followed soon after. “See, I’m glad I’m with you guys! I knew you’d all be more interesting.”

Hanging back, hovering midair, Hanyuu was trembling, hands clasped tightly in front of her. Twelve… I, like Twelve, she thought, distress in her eyes. We can… exist together, huh? To be ‘shut out’ or ‘shunned’… She closed her eyes, calming herself. There was no reason for loneliness, but nostalgia saturated with sorrow had its way of bringing these things back.

Opening her eyes again, she began to follow after them, unseen and unheard.

 

Chapter 63: The Important Things

Chapter Text

 

Seidou wandered the woods without direction, his feet unsteady, eyes lost. “Na…ga, chika…kun, and—Kaneki. He’s got a party for him. Hilarious. Lies. Hate, no. It’s funny. So funny. Makes me…want, sweets.” He was gnawing at his fingers as he walked. His eyes were far-off. “…Something’s not right,” he mumbled, quivering. He pulled his bloodied fingers from his jaws, staggering to a halt. His snow-white hair was hanging over his eyes as he bowed his head. He didn’t notice, lids wide, eyes unseeing. “It—hurts…,” he groaned, sinking to the ground. “Why not—regenerate my insides?” His fingers were pressed to the wound given him by the evolved Crow Claw. For some reason, it hadn’t healed as well as everything else. Blackened fingernails dug into his flesh; his fingers digging in; Dig in, dig in.

Unconsciously tearing into himself, he thought, I’m on fire. Why are my insides burning? “Burn,” he choked out. “I I I I I don’t want it, don’t want, why… does it hurt so bad?” His voice was broken and weak. “I hate him. Hate Kaneki. Not fair. It isn’t fair. I don’t—feel so good…

What have I done?” the owl heard, and he jolted, pausing in even his self-mutilation. There was, beside him, that god-forsaken phantom of the past.

“I didn’t do anything wrong. I… I, I didn’t; it’s not—my fault…”

In the end, I can never amount to…

“…what I want to be,” murmured Owl. “Not enough, I…”

…I’m never enough.” The transparent Seidou had his palms pushed to his closed eyes.

You were never enough. I… I…” Owl curled lower, furling himself tighter, encased in a blanket of musty air and lightless days. He was nestled in a cave on the edge of time, where nothing ever changed. There was no such thing as ‘time,’ because it didn’t matter anymore.

It’s kind of like sleepwalking. I get it now… Kaneki.

“It—not me. Not my fault. Not. Not me.”

I guess we’re really just puppets…

“Wasn’t me, my, my fault, it’s not. Not mine, me.”

All was black. He was blind, he couldn’t see. He had treats in his hands, like flowers in bloom, on fire, his blood was on fire. A river of honey flowed, tasty, sweet, treat, a treat. Yeah, he hadn’t had honey in some time. Some time, that’s true. Maybe the cool honey would soothe his insides, but perhaps it was not honey but gasoline. I’m flammable, careful, contents under pressure.

Couldn’t be gasoline anyway; it was too sweet. He fed upon the stream sparingly but joyously. Dig in. Dig in. Crimson flowers bloomed about behind his sightless eyes. It was a beautiful day.

Above him, glowing cerulean eyes watched with frozen apathy. Yato crouched on a branch just to the side of the shuddering half-ghoul below him. Nora, still a sword, was gripped at the ready in his hand. Devoid of expression, he watched as Seidou tore into himself again and again, tittering as his flesh mended itself every time. Yato knew he should leave him be, but was drawn to this wreck of a man. Drawn to calamity, huh? Drawn to ‘tragedy.’ Seems this one’s incapable of even recognizing tragedy any longer.

Seidou’s self-mutilation only gained on itself; his contented suffering had escalated to discomfort, to anger, to rage. He was screaming something about how it wasn’t his fault, he wasn’t to blame, it wasn’t me, it wasn’t me.

Yato offered no compassion to this visionless breakdown. “What a lost soul,” he remarked softly, coolly. “I’m sure the demons are feeding off you as we speak. It really is too bad… Unfortunately, I cannot save you.” He straightened, standing upright on his branch. Seidou paid him no mind, too swept up in his own head. “I’m not made for saving people.”

Yato left him in his mode of self-destruct, dissipating in a flash of blue while Seidou Takizawa howled to the sky his despair and denial.


Hide introduced Rin to Kaneki with much charm and excitement. He was about to try and introduce Shinichi when the partial-parasite bowed to the half-ghoul and said to him, “Pleasure to properly meet you.” Wearily, Kaneki bowed in turn, and Shinichi gave him a sad smile. There was nothing for them to say. It was wordless understanding.

Rin was lost on the hidden connections, but on her sidelong glance to Hide, she found the blond one smiling wide in pleasant satisfaction, his eyes soft with a hint of sorrow if you looked hard enough.

The mage soon explained that Shinichi’s wounds, although serious, were ones that she couldn’t heal here because of her lack of crystals to utilize. There was an apology in Rin’s tone, though she never spoke it directly. Unworried about Rin’s lack of healing capabilities, Kaneki was the one to tend to Shinichi’s wounds, using the cloth of Shinichi’s already-torn blue jacket. It would be ridiculous to have him die of blood loss after surviving that one. Of course, Kaneki made an attempt at apologizing himself, perhaps on behalf of Seidou, but all three of them pushed him off.

As the four began heading back towards the city on Kaneki’s quiet request, Hide took to rambling about how cool Kaneki had been when he blocked Seidou Takizawa, how he loved the new white hair idea he had going on, how he was super glad that he and Shinichi got along well – “I thought you guys could make great buddies! You know?”

Regardless of Hide’s soothing remarks, Kaneki’s insecurity in this group was evident. He was still trying to wrap his head around all that he’d done since the incident with Light and Roppi the night before. He looked at his hands as though in question: ‘What have I done?’ He noticed that the mild cut he’d gotten from Roppi’s knife was healed.

Doing what I did to Light… it’s too far, isn’t it? And Roppi, I… I left all of them behind. Was that better? I just couldn’t take it… Should I be in this group at all? Should I try to return? I… don’t know that I… deserve it, do I? What if I break again, like then? If I can’t even control myself… Who is it, then, inside me? Roppi, I’m so sorry.

If I had actually tried to talk to Seidou at that time… when he approached me at the balcony… could I have stopped him? Would that man Senji still be alive right now? Would Seidou be reined in, a teammate again? Seidou, I don’t know why I…

“Hey, bud, what’s up?” asked Hide, nudging him with his elbow and consequently snapping him from his thoughts. “C’mon, no time to be stuck in your head; I haven’t seen you in ages! We can discuss this death game stuff later, if you want. Instead, let’s talk about the important stuff.”

Kaneki felt fear spreading from his chest. Important? His regrets back home were no better than here. His lips parted, but he didn’t know what to say.

“Like,” began Hide, “I found a new English band!”

Just as quickly as it had been born, the fear shriveled within the white-haired boy.

“They’re called Bastille, which I think you’ll appreciate because I think that’s a history reference.”

“That’s right,” said Kaneki. “Most notably for the French Revolution.” A smile was touching his mouth. Listening to his friend felt warm. He’d forgotten how nice it was: sunshine.

Rin sighed lightly. Maybe she should just tune out at this point.

“Oh, sweet! Maybe I should actually look into that, huh? The band is sorta… soft alternative, I guess? Like—Indie rock or something! Yeah, so I found them ‘cause of this song called ‘Pompeii,’ which is apparently very popular in Western countries…”

As Hide went off on his tangent, Kaneki’s eyes softened. He found that for now, in this moment, he was at peace. He’s always been like this… I… Really, I’d somehow forgotten what it felt like to belong somewhere. Here, with Hide, even with everything that’s happened… Maybe… I can still belong at his side?

A calmness settled in him. The sun’s rays were oddly friendly, and for the first time in forever he felt its warmth right through to his core. Even this stranger walking alongside them, Shinichi Izumi… yeah, even he felt like an old friend. Oddly, Rin Tohsaka reminded him vaguely of a certain stubborn girl by the name of Touka Kirishima. Such a thought brought him pain, but still… it was, okay.

Things were okay.


“Where do you think Kaneki might be?” inquired Konoha as he walked after Roppi, his spacey expression wandering around as he looked.

“Preferably nearby,” Roppi answered dully.

“He is close?”

“You tell me; you have the super-hearing.”

“There are people nearby,” Konoha admitted thoughtfully. “You think that he is one of them?”

“I honestly doubt that he’s with anyone,” Roppi frowned, stopping in his tracks.

Konoha, staring into the windows of the upper stories, didn’t notice that Roppi had stopped and consequently bumped into him. “Oh. Sorry.”

Roppi shrugged it off.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Nah, just fraying my nerves as all…”

“Fraying your nerves?” the android repeated, tilting his head.

Roppi rolled his eyes. “Yes, you’re a real pain in the neck.”

“But I did not touch your neck,” he said fretfully. “What if something is wrong?”

Roppi brought his red-fringed sleeve to his mouth, covering his slight smile. His red eyes were glimmering in cool amusement. “Something’s definitely wrong, Konoha.”

“What’s that?”

“I mean, I’m teamed up with you.”

Konoha paused. “…Ah.” He looked down, brow furrowing. “Is it that… you don’t like me?”

Roppi blinked as the albino before him began to sink from ignorant curiosity to empty depression. Shit. “Ah—Konoha, it’s not… Er…”

Konoha looked at him with sorrowful watermelon eyes.

Roppi couldn’t maintain eye contact, instantly regretting his choice of words. “I don’t—it’s not that I dislike you, okay? I… don’t.”

The android lit up. “Really?”

“Uh…” He drew his lips into a thin line. “Yes.”

“Ah, I’m so glad!” Konoha exclaimed in quiet joy. “I will do my best, Roppi! I want to make sure to help you when I can… as much as possible. Because Shintaro is my friend, and Roppi is Shintaro’s friend, and so… I would like to also be your friend, Roppi!”

Roppi stared at him, lost for words. “Uh—thanks.” He didn’t know what else to say. How is it I keep finding these people who don’t make any sense…? And why do they like me? The bitter one sighed lightly, turning to continue walking the direction they’d been going. “Whatever floats your boat.”

“I don’t have a boat,” Konoha informed him, following obediently after him.

“You should get one. Great for… uh, boating.”

“Going on a boat, you mean?”

“Ah, well…” Roppi thought on this. “Can you go in water?”

“In water? Yes. I like the rain,” the android answered matter-of-factly.

“Me too…” Even though this guy’s idiotically slow sometimes… It’s… kinda refreshing, having someone so… I don’t know… Not-fucked-up? Well, he was possessed, but he’s still somehow incredibly—naïve? Maybe ‘innocent’ is the word I’m going for. Not jaded, anyway.

“The rain is nice,” said Konoha. “A boat in the rain sounds interesting. Water above and water below. I could be a fish. Or a sea serpent.”

“Let’s not do serpents,” Roppi frowned, glancing back at him.

“Oh… Maybe that’s a good idea.”

“But you’ve gotta be careful with going on a boat in the rain; if it’s a storm, you could drown or something.”

“Drown?” Konoha echoed, bemused.

“It’s when people realize that they can’t breathe in water like fish do. And they die.”

The albino blinked, halting in walking. “…Oh.”

Roppi kept trucking on. “Yeah. ‘Oh.’”

Konoha resumed walking, catching up to Roppi relatively easily. “I mean, it isn’t really that I didn’t know that… but… ah. That sounds bad.”

“Yeah, probably,” Roppi shrugged.

“The world is so dangerous,” the spacey one commented.

“Right? Who knows what terrible things could befall us,” Roppi uttered drily. “I can only name a dozen ways to die off the top of my head.”

“I don’t think I was made for such a scary world,” Konoha admitted, and Roppi scoffed.

“I don’t think anyone really was.”

“I agree.” The android paused. “We are close to the group now. I hope they are friendly.”

“Can you hear what they’re saying?”

“Something like… ‘hungry.’ Ah. I am also hungry.”

“Are you ever not hungry?” Roppi frowned at him, and Konoha took some time to think about this question, much to the dark one’s vague annoyance.

“I am not hungry… when… I am eating. I would say it’s so while I’m sleeping, but I can’t tell when I’m asleep. Does that count?”

“I guess so,” the other sighed.

“Although, I do think that food tastes better when you share it with friends.”

“You’d mentioned that…”

“Yes, it’s true, you know. There’s not a lot that I understand in life, Roppi, and I get that. I’m really just an idiot who doesn’t understand a thing.” Roppi shifted uncomfortably, feeling ever so slightly guilty for thinking exactly that at one point or another. “In fact, I don’t even know a lot about me, and I’m with me all the time. It’s hard for me to tell what I ‘like’ and what I ‘don’t like.’ Most of the time, I can’t even figure that much… But there are a few things I do know, and I will hold onto them. Food tastes better when you eat together. I like mayonnaise very much, but I like barbecue more. Barbecue is my favorite. I know that. I like triceratops; they are fun and cute. I know that. I like baseball. I know that. I don’t know why I know these things, but they are what I know to be true. And that’s why they are important to me.”

Roppi’s hard eyes began to soften, if slightly. Huh.

“As for a ‘wish’ of mine, or a ‘dream,’” he continued, “…I think I just want to have fun with people I call ‘friend.’ I don’t know where this dream came from, but it was all I had to go on from the very beginning. It’s very important to me. It’s something I want to do after this game is over. I would like to have fun with you, and with Shintaro, and with everyone else that’s a ‘friend.’ Something like a ‘dream’… I know I have it, but it’s still something intangible, which is confusing to me. I hold it inside somewhere, I guess, but is that strange? What gives a dream worth? What makes it worth ‘fighting’ for? I don’t want to fight… And tell me, then… Is it that something that is strange… If something is strange, can it still be truth? I don’t know the meaning of things like ‘happiness’ and ‘sadness.’ ‘Love,’ or ‘ego.’ All of that, I… really…” Konoha trailed off, his pace slowing to a halt.

Roppi turned around to face him, brow furrowed in confusion. He waited for the android to continue, but nothing happened. “Konoha?” he tried, and the albino shook his head.

“Ah. Something is… wrong.”

“Something’s…?” Roppi wheeled back around, brandishing his gun in preparation. There it was, the group Konoha had mentioned, only a few yards away after having rounded the corner of a tall building at their right side. Roppi’s red eyes narrowed. Ah, fuck. It’s Izaya.

“Roppi-san, it’s been some time,” said Izaya, his eyes cold, his smile thin.

“Oh, hey!” Twelve greeted brightly, waving at Roppi. “Where’s Hostage-san—I mean, Shintaro? Don’t worry, I’m not too mad about him zapping me; promise!”

“Can we kill him this time?” inquired Suzuya, picking at his lower lip.

Roppi clicked his tongue in annoyance. The fourth member of Izaya’s group, the young one named A-ya, was silent, his head bowed. He was someone that Roppi had never dealt with, and so he was wary of his actions. What happened to the biker chick and the silver-haired asshole? And when’d they pick this kid up? “I really don’t want to deal with your bullshit right now,” Roppi growled, and Izaya laughed.

Stepping forward, the informant spread his arms. “Roppi-san, seems you still have that machine gun of yours. Still going about on your monstrous rampage? I do wonder: where is Shintaro-kun? Leave him behind, did you? Is it that Shintaro turned out to be nothing more than a nuisance? And it seems you’ve got a new friend here, hah?” His eyes narrowed, smile spreading. “What is this one to you, certainly something like a strength card to use, right? What, a bodyguard? Perhaps you’re finally holding some weight to your own life? To what end are you using him?”

“Konoha, don’t listen to this dick,” Roppi frowned, his insides on fire. “Okay? We might have to fight these assholes, but it’ll be okay. You got this, Konoha?” He glanced back at the android to find that he was frozen, trembling in his place on the sidewalk. Slowly, he took a step back. Roppi, looking back to make sure his gun was still pointed in Izaya’s direction, turned to Konoha with firm expression. “Hey, what’s the matter?” Konoha shook his head. “Konoha,” he frowned deeply, his tone low and irate.

“Th… this… I… no…,” Konoha mumbled, eyes wide. He took another step back, shaking his head more frantically.

“Konoha, what the hell?” Frustrated, Roppi turned back to the opposing group, setting his jaw and cocking his gun. “God damn it…”

“Ah, will he run away without you?” asked Izaya, smiling with a look in his eyes that said he knew something that Roppi didn’t. This only further pissed Roppi off, of course.

“Maybe he doesn’t like us,” remarked Suzuya.

“Yeah, well, I don’t blame him,” scoffed Roppi bitterly. “I seriously don’t want to fight either, so if we can just—” He stopped short as he felt a sudden chill in the air. This feeling…

Shaking with silent laughter, the quietest group member with the dark cape draped around his shoulders lifted his head, his eyes glowing crimson. The smile on his face was one of distorted ecstasy. Roppi was coming to the realization that was something was definitely wrong here, his grip tightening on his gun as he prepared for action, footing shifting on the concrete as he prepared a firm fighting stance for whatever they had in store—

In a flash of red, Roppi felt himself getting yanked backwards as the ground beneath where he was standing moments before was destroyed with a crash of lightning that came from nowhere. The boy A-ya was on him, grin twisting his features as he lunged forward – his face was centimeters from Roppi’s own; his mouth was moving but Roppi couldn’t process any of what he said; the bitter one felt as though he was being pulled through time and space, they were faster than his time processes could comprehend. He couldn’t tell whether they were in slow motion or fast forward, because immediately afterwards he felt the force of gravity tugging hard on him as he was lifted forcibly into the air; he was being held in the crook of Konoha’s arm and the ground was so far below them, all in an instant. He realized that what the boy had said was, “You’re in my way.” He realized that the pupils of his eyes were slits, like a serpent’s.

What the fuck just happened?” Roppi breathed, and found that yes, thank goodness, he’d held onto his machine gun.

“I saw trouble,” Konoha explained simply.

Roppi twisted his neck to try and see the android’s expression, and caught a glimpse of a serious look. Something was bothering the usually-blank albino; fear and discomfort were etched into his usually-blank face. Looking back to where they’d been just a few seconds before, Roppi saw that the distant figure of the dark-clad kid was watching them go. He thought for sure he could still feel that gaze on him.

“Was that…?” Roppi tried to ask, but something stopped him.

The other was silent at first. Then, “…If my breathing brings back that person as well, then I…” They hit the ground with a force great enough to put a crater in the asphalt, but Konoha just bound back into the air with something like anger. Roppi guessed he was capable of being frightening after all. “I’d rather be dead,” he said lowly.

“That person… The—demon, you mean?”

“Yeah,” Konoha agreed, sounding rather forlorn. “If I knew he would have come back, I… I would have tried to go right back to sleep, as long as he would, too.”

Roppi tensed as they hit ground again, jumping right back into the air. His stomach, he felt, was far below them. “Well… Shintaro was really glad to have you back, Konoha,” Roppi informed him uncomfortably. He didn’t know how to go about helping him feel better. Konoha didn’t answer, and Roppi swallowed. “I mean… You guys are two different people, you know… Like, me and that little shit down there – he looked a lot like me; you saw him, right? That’s Izaya, and he’s probably caused his own share of havoc in this game. I’m nothing but an extension of him, supposedly… but I’m coming to find that I don’t have to be like him at all. So… what I’m saying is… if you, well, choose a good way to go about things, then—it shouldn’t matter what he does, because… you are doing your own thing. I mean—if that even makes sense.” Roppi drew his lips together, his chest tight with nervousness – not to mention how that last encounter had messed with him. So fast, now they’re still airborne. Amazing. He was a tiny bit rattled.

“You’re right, Roppi,” Konoha said softly. “Thank you.” He paused. “That just means… that I must do something about that. I don’t know what, but I will figure it out somehow.” With renewed vigor, he landed on the ground just behind another group passing through. Roppi tried to get a look at them, but then they were in the air.

Catching the members looking at them in deep perplexity, he froze. “Konoha,” Roppi said flatly, urgently. “Konoha—stop. Stop.”

“What?”

“Go back; go back! That was Kaneki—god damn it, are you kidding me?

He went down, skidding on the asphalt and shredding it a bit in the process. “Huh? Kaneki?”

“Kaneki!” Roppi confirmed frantically.

“Oh!”

And just like that, they were speeding off back where they’d come. Despite his exasperation (or perhaps because of it), Roppi found that he was laughing.

 

Chapter 64: Assurance

Chapter Text

 

“A-ya-kun, that was almost a bit much, wasn’t it?” chuckled Izaya, smiling with his hand on the hilt of the Prophet.

The dark-clad hero didn’t answer, watching as Konoha and Roppi got further and further away.

“Is it that you’ve got other plans, Kuroha-san?” Izaya tried again, raising his eyebrows.

“I know we saw machine gun guy, but who was the other one?” asked Suzuya blankly.

“That was Konoha,” Izaya explained to the lost Suzuya and Twelve. The air still felt static from the flash of lightning that had nearly fried Roppi. “It’s the demon’s old vessel – it appears he has his body back. Hah… Good for him.”

A-ya brought a hand to his forehead, turning slowly back to face his teammates. “That’s right, an empty vessel is what he is… It’s laughable, seeing him squirm under my gaze. He knows it’s me,” he said in that cold voice, then laughed slightly in the voice of A-ya. “‘A bit much,’ huh, Izaya?” Twelve and Suzuya glanced at one another. A-ya had two voices enmeshed into one when he next spoke: “Knowing that there were originally twenty-four members of the game… Take all factors into account. We have twenty-two players in-game right now, not counting anyone that may have died today. The game masters… to get anywhere, we need to thin the players out. Nothing will be accomplished otherwise. Wouldn’t you agree?

“Because if there’s too many players, there’s no reason for them to do anything but watch the entertainment,” Twelve concurred soberly.

“Oookay,” Suzuya said distractedly.

“Hmm…” Izaya was frowning at the dark-clad boy, his eyes dark. Sighing, he closed them. “You’re not wrong,” he shrugged.

“But I’ve gotta say,” remarked the terrorist, “if you’d been talking more in that creepy possessed voice, A-ya, I’d have no idea why none of us noticed that you had a demon living inside you.”

A-ya shrugged. “Demon possession… isn’t exactly the first thing on anyone’s mind.”

“No, it was the cat ears,” said Suzuya matter-of-factly. Izaya and Twelve laughed together as A-ya sighed, looking introspectively down at his hands.


“Was… that…?” Kaneki blinked, staring at the mess of ground left just behind Rin.

“Some kind of superhuman?” tried Hide, squinting. He put his hand above his eyes to try and see beyond the glare of the setting sun. “A cyborg?”

“Or an android,” Kaneki uttered, recognition evident.

“Okay, what are we missing here?” demanded Rin, gesturing to the crater Konoha had left behind.

“Good intent?” inquired Shinichi blankly, scratching at his temple. “Or bad?”

“Whatever it is, they’re coming back,” Hide pointed out, touching his chin as he watched the visitors come back around. He gave a little glance to Kaneki – obviously his friend knew this person, or these people… Plural or singular, there was definitely a connection here. Positive? Negative? They’d find out soon enough, Hide guessed.

Kaneki, Hide, Shinichi, and Rin had already stopped, waiting for these two to approach. Kaneki seemed a bit nervous for reasons other than the threat of attack. Once Konoha and Roppi were close enough, the android set Roppi down – he staggered upon being set back on his feet, swallowing. They’d found Kaneki, and he was with people after all. Was that game master, Seraph, right? Was Kaneki already purified? And, the people he was with…

Roppi, frozen in place, was coaxed forward by Konoha, who gave him a little push that turned out to be a much stronger push than he had intended. The alternate shot Konoha a sour look before drawing back once more. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea…

“I remember you,” spat Rin, raising her mutilated arm in preparation to shoot off some curses. “You’re the one that ambushed us!”

“Oh yeah,” Hide said blankly, rubbing at the back of his head.

Shinichi rubbed at his neck under where he’d lost his ear. He recognized him just as well.

“What’s that about?” asked Kaneki, turning to Hide and the others in confusion.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t remember you,” Konoha informed them, and Rin frowned.

“Not you…”

“Hey, maybe we should wait a sec,” suggested Hide, putting a hand on Rin’s shoulder. “I think Kaneki knows these guys.”

“Kaneki, yes,” Konoha said, brow furrowed. There was too much going on before him – he couldn’t comprehend all of the connections.

“Uh, Kaneki—” began Roppi, voice tight.

“Don’t do anything, Rin… I implore you,” said Kaneki, holding up a hand to her. With narrowed eyes, she grudgingly obeyed, lowering her injured arm.

Roppi’s eyes were flicking around from Shinichi to Rin to Hide. His heart was in his stomach. These guys… every one of them… He suddenly felt very uncomfortable with his machine gun in his hands. What a stupid decision that was… Not that—I didn’t know that at the time, either. I just didn’t care. He closed his eyes, trying to calm himself. His mind was chastising him. He was disgusting.

“Kaneki, that is you, right?” asked Konoha, looking at the half-ghoul.

“That’s right, Konoha,” Kaneki smiled gently back at him. “I have to apologize… for…”

“I am very glad that we’ve found you!” the android told him with blank joy. “We’ve been searching for you since yesterday, I think. I forget. It was awhile ago. Roppi said you were in trouble just after you left, and so I tried to help and now… Are you okay? You look okay. I think you look okay. I could be wrong about that.”

“No, really, I’m fine,” Kaneki said, touching his chin, his brow furrowed in apology. Hide gave him a sidelong glance. “I need to apologize… particularly to Roppi…”

“He needs to apologize to us,” Rin uttered, annoyed.

“At this point, does it really matter?” Shinichi asked her, and she frowned deeply at the ground, as though it were the asphalt that were guilty.

“Look, can you guys make this any more uncomfortable?” asked Hide, huffing out a sigh. He brought his hands to the back of his head, casual. “Jeez. Why don’t we leave ‘Neki and, what was it, Roppi?” He looked at Roppi, then to Kaneki when Roppi only averted his gaze. “Let’s leave them be. I kinda wanna get to know this guy; he looks awesome!” He gestured to Konoha, who blinked at him. “What did ya say he was, an android? Sweet! So, what’s your name?”

“Ah… Konoha…”

“I’m Hideyoshi Nagachika, but you can call me Hide! That’s Shinichi over there, and the cute one’s Rin-chan! Don’t you think she’s cute?”

“I… like the… ah.” Lost for words, Konoha gestured with his fingers at the sides of his head, looking like he was giving himself rabbit ears. “The hair. The pigtails, that’s right. Up top, like that. I like that.”

Rin rolled her eyes. “Thanks.”

Kaneki looked to Roppi as Hide spurred the conversation for the other three he was keeping occupied. Shame was burning through the bitter one; his eyes smoldered with it, cast to the side where they needn’t make contact with anyone. Tentatively, the half-ghoul approached him. “Roppi… I’m very sorry about everything that happened when we were last together… I knew that Light was trying to take advantage of me the whole time… but I… didn’t need to do as I did. And—the things I said beforehand…” He lowered his white-haired head. “It was uncalled for.” Bowing in apology, he found he had nothing else to say.

Roppi was shaking his head, his chest squeezing in protest to Kaneki’s own shame. Idiot, I don’t want you apologizing to me. You’re making me feel worse, damn it…

There was a thought in the back of his mind: a musing that from here, he could pass it off as Kaneki merely having a breakdown. Pass the blame in Kaneki’s own perception to the half-ghoul himself. He never needed to know that it was really Roppi who did that to him. Kaneki could reconcile for his mistake, and they could go back to the others just fine.

But would that really be fixing my own mess?

It would sure look like it.

He closed his eyes. What bullshit.

“Please stop bowing,” Roppi got out, his jaw tight.

Kaneki lifted his head, looking at him with faded grey eyes. Sorrowful. Weary. “I know that what I said to you put you in a terrible position, and I need to—”

“Stop,” Roppi cut him off, and Kaneki obliged, though his eyes told him that he was questioningly curious. “Just, stop. No. Just because… Okay. Okay.” Roppi took a deep breath. “Let’s—get a little bit further from the others. Is that fine? Can we do that?”

Sensing his apprehension, Kaneki nodded. “Sure; over here, then.” Kaneki began leading them away. “What is it, Roppi?”

“Look, stop apologizing for the shit you said at that time, okay?” Roppi told him. “I mean, yeah, sure, I was a little surprised—I mean, you saw my—well, my—my skin, so you know that—” Kaneki gave a slight nod, thinking soberly of the marks of self-harm that marred Roppi’s pale self. “Well what I’m trying to say is that I was too caught up in my own stupid head to really comprehend that other people wanted to die too, I guess?” He nervously ran a hand through his raven hair. “So—”

“Roppi,” Kaneki said firmly, warmly. He gripped gently at Roppi’s shoulders, and the alternate stiffened. “It’s okay. You shouldn’t be obligated to recognize that in a person… and I shouldn’t have fallen apart like that. I should have better controlled myself; there’s too much at stake in this game…”

“No; stop that!” Roppi jerked away, backing up. “No, please, it wasn’t—Kaneki, it was… I mean… It wasn’t you… It was…”

“…Roppi, what do you mean?”

“It was me,” Roppi told him desperately, and Kaneki sighed lightly.

“It wasn’t your fault—”

“Yes it was!” Roppi snapped, and Kaneki was silent. The half-ghoul looked as though he was waiting for the storm to pass before he interjected again. He’s got it set in his head that it was all him, the raven-haired one thought, and his insides knotted themselves. But of course that would be what Kaneki thought. Without knowing about the blade, that’s exactly what it seemed like.

Ah, Roppi really didn’t want to say what he knew he needed to—God, he didn’t want to. “No, you don’t get it, Kaneki, that knife I had, the one I cut you with—I didn’t want to cut you, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry but I did… If you draw blood—it’s called the Harrowing Blade, okay? And it—it brings out the very worst of somebody, and apparently there’s a cure, and you’ve already got it I guess but—but I’m sick and tired of ruining every goddamn thing I touch but I do it anyway and so… I…”

“Roppi,” said Kaneki, and Roppi went rigid, expecting the worst. “It’s okay. I’m glad.”

The other stared at the half-ghoul, perplexed. “You…?”

“I was afraid of the fact I’d lost control of myself. Obviously you didn’t intend to draw my blood, Roppi; you didn’t mean to cause the events that followed.” He smiled gently at him. “It’s okay, Roppi. It’s not your fault.”

“Not…?” His eyes were burning, and he shook his head before they could begin to spill.

“Nobody’s fault,” Kaneki shrugged, his own eyes distant. “Everybody’s.”

Roppi looked at him in a wordless question, but Kaneki only waved it off.

“If it was the effects of that blade… I admit I still feel terrible about some things. I, ah, saw Seidou.”

“Me too.” They both looked at the ground, silence attempting to fill in the empty spaces. Roppi bit his lip in preparation to fight against the quiet. “About Seidou…” Can I trust Seraph, a game master? Well… “There’s something I need to talk to you about, Kaneki.”

“What’s that?”

“Do you know what it was that got you out of the effects of the Harrowing Blade? I’ll explain, I swear—it’s…” He swallowed, nervous. “It’s for Seidou. I want your opinion on something.”

Touching his chin thoughtfully, the half-ghoul gave a slight nod. “Of course. Let’s see…”


Yukiteru didn’t want to get up. He didn’t know how much time had passed since they’d all reached this little traditional home, but he did know that he couldn’t while away his time in a bedroom for too much longer. He had people waiting for him.

A-ya, what are you thinking right now? He brought his hands to his face, feeling the stinging of his eyes and rejecting the thought of weeping – it wouldn’t do anything anyway. Grudgingly, he sat up. Is it that he’s betrayed me, after all? Would A-ya do that? Was there a reason, after all, for Keiichi and C-ta to…? No, that’s definitely not right. Sighing, he grasped at his hat, lying discarded on the floor. I wonder what happened to my special item, he thought idly, untying his boots to re-lace them. A symbolic limitation, huh… Maybe a time limit for me? A-ya’s item is still working… “Uwahh, I can’t do a thing,” he moaned, flopping back onto the bed-mat. Now what…? “Stop sulking,” he mumbled to himself, tugging his hat over his eyes. “It’s not like you’re alone or anything. I mean, you have Akise-kun, and Minene… Even Celty-san and Rika-chan are here. Isn’t that great?”

But it didn’t really feel so great at all. Was Izaya right after all? Is it that nothing’s changed at all… that I was just depending on A-ya, too? Shaking his head, he sat back up and got to his feet at last, shuffling over to the sliding door as he adjusted his hat back its proper place. He paused at the door, wondering what it was the others were talking about. The very first impression of what was going on out there was heard loud and clear:

“Yato? Akise, that’s a terrible idea!” he heard Minene bark in rejection, and he released a sigh.

Oh boy…

Bracing himself for uncomfortable interaction, he opened the sliding door and stepped out. In the living area, he saw Akise and Celty turn to look at him. The former smiled at him, his rose-colored eyes warm. “Yukiteru-kun, I’m glad to see you up.”

“S…sorry, I just… I mean…”

“It’s fine,” Akise assured, and gestured for Yukiteru to join them all. “We were just discussing our plans from here.”

“Our plans, huh?” Yukiteru mumbled, joining them all with his eyes downcast. He longed for solitude once more. It was familiar. Desirable. He discovered that without his fellow loner, he was far more uncomfortable amongst others, just like before… At least I’m with Akise-kun, he thought to himself, rubbing at one of his arms.

“Is it that Yukiteru is okay now?” asked Rika, sounding curious and concerned.

“Oh, uh… y…yeah,” he answered. Oh, that was right; were they worried about him? People worrying about him, would they do that? Could he trust Rika? Celty? Surely he could trust Akise. What about Minene? Such a thought of concern was alien to him. Or maybe it’s just thinking about myself at all… All I do is think about everything else around me – I never much think about myself. Is that what A-ya thought? I know I want him to be okay… Is he worried about me, too, I wonder? How strange…

[I’m sorry for your friend.] typed out Celty, holding up her phone to him. Yukiteru blinked, surprised. [But until we figure out what needs to be done, we’ll do our best to help.] As if in agreement, an armadillo perched on her shoulder squeaked at him. He stared at the little guy, perplexed. Where did this creature come from? Yukiteru must have missed something.

“Oh, please,” scoffed Minene. “Don’t be so sorry about the A-ya dude. Yukiteru, listen to me here.”

He looked at the terrorist, nervous for what she might have to say to him.

“Here’s the problem with you, and with him,” she said, holding up a finger. Her single eye shone with irritation and determination. “Both of you, you know you’re weak. You know you’re helpless.”

The fourteen-year-old shrank under her gaze, knowing she was right.

“But that’s just it! You two know it, so you think you can’t get any better. It’s bullshit!”

He faltered, suddenly unsure of her intended message.

“The problem isn’t that you’re weak, it’s that you know you are. Everyone starts off weak; it’s how life works. But if you don’t try to make yourself better; if you don’t reach for the goals that you think are impossible, then you’re never going to get anywhere. There is nothing but the future waiting for you, Yukki, so make it what you want to,” she spoke to him with a voice filled with fire. “Honestly, I don’t want to deal with you sulking—or anyone, for that matter. So if you lose the will to live, then just fucking die already.” A sharp sigh punctuated her words, and Yukiteru stared at her with wide blue eyes, taken aback. His mouth opened and closed, but he couldn’t find anything to say.

“…I’m sorry,” he began, but she snapped back, “Stop fucking apologizing and take responsibility for your actions. I’m not saying that what you want is impossible, I’m saying that you’ve gotta take action to get it, get it? But if you’re going to blindly imitate ‘life’ while letting everyone else do shit for you, then I don’t want to deal with you at all.”

[That might be a bit harsh, isn’t it?] asked Celty, and Minene rolled her eyes.

“It’s the truth.”

“Maybe Yukiteru-kun needs some inspiration,” said Akise, “but that may not be the best way to enlighten him, Minene-san.”

She clicked her tongue in annoyance, and Akise turned to Yukiteru.

“Yukiteru-kun… I’ve said it before, and I will again. If anyone can help A-ya-kun, it’s you.”

That’s right. Akise, he’d said… Yukiteru blinked. What, ‘even if A-ya-kun were to make a mistake, I’d be willing to trust you in saving him’?

“You said he was your friend, didn’t you?” Akise inquired, smiling in that sly way of his.

“I, yes… O-of course,” Yukiteru answered, shifting uncomfortably.

“Would he hurt people to hurt them, do you think? Is he that kind of person?”

“I…”

He thought of their night talks. Of the night Yukiteru asked whether A-ya was as lonely as he was. The soft, vulnerable sound of A-ya’s voice in the night: confirmation. “Me too.” He thought of the battle they’d had together back with C-ta, and Shinichi’s group: facing the group with… Kuroha. The way A-ya had been too scared to move, standing frozen with his scissors in front of him, trembling as he watched C-ta combat someone with ease. He thought of listening to A-ya’s musings that night, so dark, so pessimistic. His tone was sullen: “With the way this game’s set up…we might be doomed no matter what. Even if we have an epiphany like how we don’t need to participate in the game… do you really think that everyone involved will listen?” The quiver in his voice when he whispered to Yukiteru, “More people will die.” He thought of the horrible crimson scene directly after that, with C-ta and with A-ya’s scissors and how C-ta had tried to kill them and how C-ta had died and how A-ya brought those scissors to his own throat and killed himself right in front of him… How Yukiteru tried to wake him up to no avail. The tears that streaked A-ya’s worn face. The horror that was hidden in his dead expression. The emptiness in his red eyes, and how they were the first things Yukiteru saw when he woke up. The way he embraced A-ya; the relief he’d felt. The way that A-ya actually hugged him back. He thought of how A-ya spoke longingly of the three he hadn’t realized were friends of his: C-ta, B-ko, D-ne… The sorrow in his voice when he spoke of the misunderstandings of C-ta; the way he’d never be able to reconcile that frayed connection. He thought of the feeling of A-ya’s hand in his, that night…

…Of the wish that A-ya had made, tone wistful; plaintive. “If, if I were to see a shooting star right now… If we were to see one in this sky, what would you wish for, Yukiteru? It’s strange. I think… I’d wish for ‘normality.’ The ‘mundane everyday’ that… that I hated so much.”

Yukiteru felt as though his heart had stopped. …A-ya…

“He wouldn’t mean to hurt anybody at all,” Yukiteru said firmly. “A-ya is the kind of person that doesn’t wish harm on anybody.” Even if it was his hands that killed Roy, his hands that killed C-ta, isn’t it true that both times he broke down?

“Alright,” Akise smiled, satisfied. “That’s more like it. I believe you, Yukiteru-kun. Now, you just need to prove it to our teammates.”

“Eh?” He stiffened, taking a step back.

“No need to be so alarmed, Yukiteru-kun. We’re going to do our best to help A-ya-kun, but it will be at your discretion. Even if it’s that A-ya-kun’s fate is set in stone, I know you can rewrite it. It wouldn’t be the first time, would it?”

Yukiteru blinked. It occurred to him that his own friends, the ones he’d realized he’d had once Rodd had sent him forward in time… Hinata; Mao? They had both tried to end his life! Wasn’t it true that they, who were originally considered ‘traitors,’ were really just confused and desperate? It was subtle, but something dark began to swirl about him, like the feathers of a blackbird. “Ah… yeah, you’re right,” he said, his hope beginning to return. “But how can I…?”

“It’s not like you’ll be alone,” Akise pointed out, putting his hands comfortably in his pockets. “Yukiteru-kun, don’t forget. Every one of us is on your side. All of us are going to help you.”

“R…really?” he asked tentatively, unsure. He looked around at the others.

“That is so,” Rika confirmed happily, smiling childishly. She held up a single finger, a matter-of-fact pose. “Yukiteru is a nice, good friend; I do believe so.”

[I also want to help you.] said Celty. [I may not have gotten to know you very well yet, but I’d like to.] Tap-tap-tap. [And I’m worried for your friend, too. I’ll do all that I can.] The armadillo grunted demandingly, and Celty seemed to falter. [And Kincho will, too!] she added, and then scratched gently at the small animal’s head.

“…Minene?” Yukiteru asked, looking at her with head tilted, questioning the idea that even she would be on his side for real.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’m rootin’ for ya, kid,” she said, and Yukiteru smiled, pleasant disbelief coursing through him. His face was flushed with joy.

“Th…thank you all so much!”

“Of course, Yukiteru-kun,” Akise shrugged, content with the outcome of this little conversation. “And you know A-ya-kun better than anyone else, right?”

“I do,” Yukiteru answered with confidence. “You’re right, Akise-kun… and Minene, I’m taking your advice!” He pointed at the terrorist, the ebony feathers swelling in a dark eddy that swathed him in the black, returning to him that loose cloak that had pooled around him at the time he’d first activated his ability. “I don’t want to just sit here; I’m gonna save him. I’ll make sure of it!”

Rika clapped at the show, laughing happily.

“But where’d the cloak come from?” Minene asked blankly.

He looked down at himself. It’s back? “Uh…” He scratched at his head awkwardly. “It’s a special item I activated right before we split. Um. I dunno, really, how it works…”

“It seems it activates depending upon your level of confidence, Yukiteru-kun,” Akise commented. “All the more reason to believe in yourself.”

Yukiteru blinked, then nodded curtly, a lopsided smile touching his mouth. “Yeah. All of us… We’ll end this game. Stop the cycle. And we’ll save as many people as we can along the way!”

“Now don’t go thinking you can save everyone,” uttered Minene, only to be nudged by Rika.

“Is it really so bad to want to save everyone?” the youngest asked her softly while Celty went on a positivity streak with Yukiteru.

“It is a dream to reach for,” Minene conceded, then closed her eye. “But dreams that are too happy are nothing but an illusory boat to Hell.”

 

Chapter 65: Rumor

Chapter Text

 

Before long, A-ya’s group was on the move again. A-ya was rather quiet for some time, but Izaya eased him out of his head in that annoying but effective way of his. At least, it worked for the most part. The little occult-lover was still a bit distracted in his speech, but hey, at least it was A-ya they were talking to, not the serpentine demon dwelling within him and not both of them entwined in one.

…Well, at least until Suzuya asked him, “So wait, are you a cat demon, then?”

No,” A-ya answered quickly, annoyed. His eyes flashed in momentary loss of control. For a split second, he was Saeru. Closing his eyelids, A-ya cleared his throat. “…He’s a serpent.”

“I think he’s offended,” remarked Twelve, and Suzuya giggled.

Nekorosu!” piped up Suzuya happily. “That right?”

“Nice, Suzu!” Twelve grinned, and held up a hand. They high-fived.

Izaya sighed, and A-ya shrugged, his mouth twitching. “I’m sure that Kuroha-san also doesn’t much appreciate the pun,” the informant pointed out, putting his hands in his pockets.

“Eh, it doesn’t really matter whether the demon likes us or not,” Twelve said casually. “Really, I don’t think he likes anyone, so what’s the point being nice other than to humor him? As long as there remains a distinct ‘us and them’ mentality, at least with A-ya, then we’re safe!”

Suzuya blinked bemusedly at him.

“That is,” Twelve clarified, “as long we belong to the group here – ‘You’re one of us.’ That kind of deal. Because someone that isn’t ‘one of us’ becomes, well, dead. Right? They’re an enemy. That’s the mentality that’s set up for this game, apparently.” He eyed Izaya meaningfully, and the informant shot him a sly grin accompanied with a shrug.

A-ya watched Twelve try to nudge Izaya with his elbow only for the informant to dance away from him, pointing their way to the next checkpoint. The dark-clad boy observed the three of them begin on their way before following along after them, his pace slow. Twelve isn’t wrong, conceded the demon in his head. You know it too… that no one is on your side; one must be wary of everyone. Liar is far from trustworthy, and it’s easy to tell that Twelve, too, has some other motive here with us. Doll is only along for the ride, meaning…

Ah, that’s strange.

A pause; a flicker of stifled annoyance. What’s that?

For you to call Twelve ‘Twelve.’ Isn’t it? You always give people your own titles.

Saeru scoffed. ‘Twelve’ is not a name, as you call it. Twelve is nothing more than a number. Numbers hold as much meaning as my worthless labels. It is mere categorization. Objectification. There is no personal attachment to a number; it is just a number.

I wonder, then… “Ah, Twelve,” he spoke up in his quiet, dull voice, and the brown-haired one looked back at him with his wide, bright eyes. A-ya thought to himself that this person rather reminded him of the summertime. Ah, it was just becoming summer at home…

It was going to be summer for a long time, kid, Saeru informed him flatly yet with humor—albeit dark humor.

A-ya ignored him. “Why is it that you’re called ‘Twelve’? Do you have a real name?”

Twelve blinked at him, then beamed. “Why is A-ya called ‘A-ya’?” He answered. “The title ‘A-ya’ is nothing more than the anonymous tag on a minor involved in some grave incident, like murder. Terrorism. Some sort of crime. Isn’t that true?” He shrugged, spinning back around to face forward. “Or maybe you’re just named that way in your realm. Crazy.”

A-ya thought on this. Oddly, it had never occurred to him. “No, you’re right. I am thinking that my name ‘A-ya’ might have to do with an incident… a legend that I don’t yet understand. It’s nothing I can pinpoint, not here. And you?”

Twelve laughed. “Well, you did give an answer,” he conceded. “I’m just Twelve, that’s all. Just like Nine is Nine. That’s my terrorist partner, by the way.”

“But why Nine? Why Twelve?” A-ya pressed.

“He’s got his curiosity going,” Izaya smirked. “Won’t you sate it? I’m wondering too, now.”

“Curiosity killed the cat,” Twelve said simply, then paused. “…Well, snake.” He gave A-ya a look, then turned to face forward again.

“Why not Thirteen?” asked Suzuya. Judging by the roman numeral XIII on his scythe and the same pattern of red hair clips holding his bangs out of his eyes, one might guess that thirteen was his favorite number.

“Thirteen is dead,” Twelve answered bluntly, flatly. His tone had shifted drastically in an instant, effectively darkening the atmosphere. Still, he brought his hands behind his head, casual.

A-ya drew back a bit. I see… The dull disinterest of Saeru deadened his insides.

“We were stripped of our names a long, long time ago, if you really are so curious, A-ya,” Twelve continued, much to A-ya’s surprise. Izaya glanced back at the terrorist. “We were given numbers because we were children devoid of ‘love.’ Does that make sense? To deny people the right to ‘love’? To label others, objectify them with a distant title, to be nameless… it’s the same as being ‘loveless,’ right? To have no ‘love’ received, to have no ‘love’ to offer… that’s what it is to be a monster, right?” He spread his arms. “Be it fabricated ‘human love,’ as you say, Izaya, displaying a twisted form of that affection…”

The informant shifted in pace, tilting his head to look back at Twelve. “Hm?”

“Or, be it that you’ve been hurt enough that ‘love’ has become a pointless fantasy, Suzuya…”

Suzuya blinked.

“Be it that you know only straight-out disconnections, frayed ties, and miscommunications, A-ya…” Twelve closed his eyes. “Or whatever the case may be for any one of us, we’d already come to the conclusion that we’re all monsters. Right? But even monsters are ‘people.’ Isn’t that the truth?”

“Maybe it is,” agreed A-ya softly.

I’m sure the truth is that all four of you brats are equally susceptible to the greedy longing of ‘love.’

“Monsters are people too, huh?” snickered Izaya, enjoying himself. “An interesting thought.”

“No kidding,” Twelve agreed, his tone still rather serious. “And that’s why I ‘love’ this group.” He smiled a thin, dark smile. “Because irony is fun.”

Quirking an eyebrow, the goddess hovering along behind them sighed, unbeknownst to the four heading forward. They were rounding the tallest tower on the game field on the eastern side when Izaya pointed out to the others that the players Konoha and Roppi surely couldn’t be too far off. “It could even be,” Izaya added, “that Shintaro-kun is off in sheltered safely somewhere nearby again. Not saying that’s the case, but we should be wary of the possibilities. However! I would also like to take a good look at the surrounding area here…”

Hanyuu folded her fine fingers together as she waited for the short-term plan to be arranged. Just Izaya’s voice grated on her nerves. Yet again, Rika was torturing her with her ways. For them to be bound by the soul, for them to be ‘one and the same,’ in essence, why was it she had to be so different? She was always insistent on liking the things that Hanyuu couldn’t stand: spicy foods, for example, or alcohol. Or Izaya Orihara.

She sighed heavily again, furrowing her brow as they came to the decision that Twelve and Suzuya would inspect the surrounding area in rounding the western side of the tower, while A-ya and Izaya would skirt the side they were currently on, at the eastern edge.

“Do tell about any abnormalities,” said Izaya brightly while Suzuya picked absently at his ear and Twelve saluted them.

“Please actually pay attention,” A-ya added dully, scratching at his raven-haired head.

“Do you know who you’re talking to?” Twelve shot back with a sly smile.

Ever so slightly, a smile touched A-ya’s pessimistic expression. He nodded back at Twelve, and the two pairs parted ways.

Though it may not seem like it at first glance, thought Hanyuu, this may be a perfect dynamic after all… Not that that’s a good thing, actually. Grudgingly, the goddess followed after Izaya and A-ya, her eyes shadowed in deep distaste. Seeing as Rika had told her to follow ‘Izaya’s group,’ she figured that meant keeping an eye on Izaya in particular—probably also on A-ya in particular, seeing as he was a huge part of that whole terrible scene with Roy Mustang. And everyone just moved along as if it were nothing. Oh, I really don’t like this mission. Izaya makes me so mad…

“So what do you think, A-ya-kun?” Izaya asked A-ya, spreading his arms. “For what you thought would be a solo mission, are you pleased or miffed that you have three others at your side?”

A-ya looked at him, then tilted his head, thinking about it. “Both,” he answered, and Izaya laughed. The dark-clad boy looked up at the tower they were rounding, slowing his pace as he tried, perhaps, to peer into the top story. It seemed that the top story was the only story there was – even if he jumped as high as he could as the dark-clad hero, he couldn’t reach it. Which was probably the point… and probably why apparently Minene had blown up the tower in the female game. “You chose this area because of the tower, didn’t you?” A-ya asked of him, and Izaya flashed a grin.

“Maybe so.” The informant, too, paused to look up at the high tower. It was a structure that thinned out the higher it went, up until a point where something reminiscent of a watch post bulged at the top. It reminded A-ya of the crow’s nest on a pirate ship. “I bet the game masters are up there somewhere, smiling right back at us. What do you think, A-ya-kun?”

“I think they’re laughing,” A-ya answered flatly, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I think they’re watching us through innumerable cameras. I think they find it funny that we’re so close, but so far. I think they find it laughable that we can get so close without being a threat in the least, because more people need to die before anything can happen with them.”

“That so?” Izaya’s smile thinned. “It makes me kind of angry,” he admitted.

“Them playing a game with us?”

“Perhaps something like that.”

A-ya laughed a bit. “Then make the game your own. That’s what both of us have been doing since forever, right? You and I are the same in that way. Just, become a game master yourself!”

“A daring move, A-ya-kun,” Izaya snickered. “Then tell me! What, exactly, is your intent in this game?”

“Reset,” A-ya answered simply, bluntly.

The informant blinked at him. “Well, I can’t say that idea doesn’t have its obvious pros,” he shrugged, closing his eyes. “It’s certainly possible, knowing what the game masters have—”

“I know it’s possible,” A-ya said shortly.

He paused. “Then, wonderful!” The informant clapped his hands. “I do wonder, would we remember such a thing? What an advantage that would give us!”

“I don’t care whether we would or not.” Flat-toned certainty.

“Ah, A-ya-kun, is it that you merely want back the chances you’ve lost? Because something like that…”

It was that taunting, cruel tone the Hanyuu hated most! “As if you don’t want Shizuo back,” she snapped, revealing herself in her irritation. Both of them turned to look at her with wide, blank eyes.

“Oh, hey, Hanyuu,” said A-ya dully, as though her presence wasn’t all too surprising to him.

“Now, wait, wait, wait a minute!” Izaya protested, holding up a hand. “Who told you the name ‘Shizuo,’ in any case? How do you know it, hah?”

“I’m god,” she huffed, crossing her arms and pouting at him. Apparently, Izaya hadn’t been surprised about her presence more than he’d been shocked by the fact she’d said ‘Shizuo.’

“Oh, please,” Izaya scoffed, rolling his eyes. “After becoming acquainted with Yato, that can hardly count as an excuse.”

“A-ya wants to reset, huh?” Her eyes narrowed. “The serpent demon already knows that’s a game we’ve played time and time again.” She lowered her arms, her small hands gripped into firm fists. “Once upon a time, it was you who died in that battle, Izaya,” she said lowly, and Izaya stared at her, something like vague discomfort flitting across his eyes. “And Shizuo Heiwajima was the one who made it back. Yeah, he felt some remorse for having not made it in time, but honestly, it didn’t take long to get over someone like you.”

He couldn’t respond. He’d forgotten how to shoot back in verbal fire. His own eyes narrowed. He looked annoyed.

“Then,” said A-ya, “that means… that resetting the game has occurred already. Meaning… the outcome, really can change, as well?”

I so do not know how to mess with people the way Rika does, she thought fretfully. “As much as I dislike the demon dwelling within you, I can at least admit that I like you far better than C-ta.”

The dark-clad boy’s eyes widened. “C-ta?”

“Don’t get so excited,” Hanyuu frowned. “When he’s around this late in the game, it means both you and Yukiteru were already killed, probably by him.”

A-ya bowed his head. “I kind of… figured, that much, of course…”

“Ah, there’s no need to worry about anything that’s happened in other routes,” sighed Izaya with a shrug. “What purpose is there in that? This only proves that we wouldn’t remember a thing.” Shifting tone, he eyed Hanyuu with cruel smile in place. “Now, do tell, Hanyuu-chan… Why are you out in this area? You’re not spying on us to obtain information, are you?”

“Uuu…” She shook her head. “No, unfortunately not! Rika… wanted me to see… that you were all doing alright.”

Izaya laughed. “Good to know that Rika-chan is worried for us!”

A-ya was touching his chin, contemplative. “Is it that you can communicate between groups?”

“Eh? How do you mean?” She blinked.

“It’s just… then… is it that Rika’s group is also alright?”

“Oh.” She played with her fingers. “Yes, actually, they’re doing just fine.”

“Do you think that…? Ah.” A-ya looked away, head bowed. “Maybe that wouldn’t work. It’s probably just paranoia anyway.”

Izaya blinked, then smiled knowingly.

“W-wait, what’s that, A-ya?” asked goddess nervously.

“It’s nothing,” he said dismissively, waving her off and beginning to walk again in the direction they’d been heading. “I don’t want to worry Yukiteru, anyway. It’s nothing I want him to have to know.”

“Now, A-ya-kun,” Izaya came in, sounding concerned, “you know… it may be better for him to know. I know you don’t want to, but—”

“I already decided that I wouldn’t say,” A-ya answered in snipping tones. “I—well, ignorance is bliss, isn’t it?”

“But this could put him in danger. Do you really want that responsibility, A-ya-kun?”

Hanyuu was looking between the two of them, her eyes flitting from one to the other in increasing franticness. “U-um, guys?”

“It’s just silly, isn’t it?” A-ya asked Izaya quietly. “It doesn’t even sound legitimate… I don’t think it would work…”

“Ah, perhaps you’re right,” Izaya sighed lightly, closing his eyes. “It could be that Yukiteru-kun wouldn’t listen. He is stubbornly trusting.”

Hanyuu sped around to look at them, eyes wide in worry. “What is it you two are speaking about? What could hurt Yukiteru?”

“It really isn’t all that good an argument,” A-ya mumbled, scratching at his cheek.

The informant shrugged. “Even if you were to relay it, it may just fall on deaf ears.”

“Th-that’s fine!” she cried, getting up closer to them. “Please, explain yourselves!”

“Do you really wanna know?” asked A-ya, blinking at her.

“Ye-e-es…”

“I mean… just…” A-ya rubbed at the back of his head uncomfortably. “Just please don’t let Yukiteru know. It’d be better if you didn’t tell anyone else.”

“That’s fine,” she insisted.

“Ah… well…”

“See,” Izaya came in seriously, glancing over at A-ya, “it does have to do with Akise-kun.”

“Something’s been strange about him from the start,” added the dark-clad one. “Even the demon feels as though something is wrong.”

“It is true that he came out of nowhere,” continued the informant. “He gave me these new information sheets, but he isn’t on them himself. In actuality, he doesn’t belong to any of the groups.”

“The night Roy died… I could have sworn I heard him chuckling just before Nora appeared.”

“Not to mention, he had been misguiding my group from the very beginning of his arrival – well, at least as soon as Yato up and left. I’m not sure what his intent was, but he started taking control from that point on.”

“And with an unknown motive like that… I’m just worried that Yukiteru might be trusting the wrong kind of person.”

“As much as I dislike saying it,” contributed Izaya, “it is the case that Yukiteru-kun has fallen in with the wrong people before. He’s a very trusting kid, which just sets you up for being stepped on. I’ve seen it time and time again, and that’s the truth.”

“But please,” A-ya said worriedly, “I’ve just hurt Yukiteru enough. I don’t want him to hear anything about Akise, too.”

“O-okay,” Hanyuu answered stiffly. She bowed. “Of course I’ll respect that.”

“Thank you,” A-ya murmured.

“We should get searching for abnormalities, huh, A-ya-kun?” said Izaya.

“Yeah.”

With that, they walked past Hanyuu to scout the area. The goddess was deep in thought, frozen in place. Akise? It is true… that I don’t remember him being in any other route than this one. But, does that mean…? Fear was spreading through her chest. I-I need to let Rika know the next chance I get!

As A-ya and Izaya walked with their backs to the goddess, Izaya amusedly watched A-ya’s face contort with cruel glee, his eyes wide and his face flushed with excitement. The informant knew that this terrible fixation had nothing to do with the demon possessing him. In fact, his own mouth began to twist in satisfaction. The informant ruffled the dark-clad kid’s hair happily, and A-ya nudged him with just as much playful enjoyment.

It’s like Izaya read my mind! thought A-ya. In the best kind of way!

Who would have thought I would have a ‘partner in crime’ like this? thought Izaya.

Both of them felt fantastic. Even Saeru, nestled neatly in A-ya’s mind, was vaguely amused by such a show – they’d just used a goddess to spread a rumor! Granted, he also didn’t expect A-ya and Izaya to collaborate so well, either.

Both of you, toying with gods and siding with demons… At the very least, you make things interesting, kid.

This only served to heighten A-ya’s dark joy, thin smile spreading over his face as he and the informant continued silently on, composedly containing their cruel mirth.


Akise, huh? Rika heard Hanyuu’s news not too long after that – the goddess had gone to convey the message after Izaya and A-ya had re-met up with Twelve and Suzuya. But he doesn’t seem to have ill will. Under the current circumstance, Rika couldn’t vocally respond to Hanyuu. She closed her eyes. Around her, the other four of her group walked forward, trooping through a field of grass. There’d been a dirt road heading back north, but Akise had suggested they cut through the field. Minene agreed easily, and everyone else went along with it.

I suppose we’ll have to wait and see about Akise. If anything, I’ll bring it up to Minene… She knows him; she’d know well enough, I’m sure. Minene’s blatantly honest about her thoughts on others. I must remember, Izaya has a hand in what Hanyuu just told me, so whether it holds merit is arguable. Yet, even rumors such as those can hold a grain of truth…

Regardless of Minene’s analysis, I will keep an eye on Akise. Under the information that Hanyuu just gave me, it implies that Akise is either associated with the game masters or associated with Yato. Perhaps both. I do know that Akise wasn’t in any previous routes to this one… or else he’s been erased from them.

It is safe to admit that something is strange here. Brightening up and returning to her persona, she pranced forward to catch up with the others. She was only ten yet, and she was petite even for her age. Meaning—these older people walked kinda fast.

Currently, Yukiteru was handing off his beige hat to Celty for use with the armadillo. She mentioned through the communication of her phone screen that she wasn’t sure what to do with an armadillo that was always perched on her shoulders. So, Yukki had offered his hat, and Celty had tried placing Kincho inside it. In Yukiteru’s hands, the little guy seemed a bit nervous. Cautiously, he sniffed at Yukki. As the animal slowly relaxed, the cloaked boy lit up in finding the armadillo seemed to like him.

On Yukiteru’s back, a machine gun was slung using the strap it came with. Yukki had had the opportunity to select ‘Weapon Upgrade’ at the items pillar, and that machine gun was his prize. He didn’t know exactly what he could do with a machine gun, or why he needed it when he could freaking levitate stuff, but he guessed he was thankful for it even though he’d never touched a gun in life, nor had he really intended to until it just up and appeared in his hands.

“Oi, what’s that ahead?” Minene uttered, and they all came to attention.

“Someone’s out there,” Akise said coolly, hands in his pockets. “Be careful, everyone.”

“It seems kinda like his walking is off,” commented Yukiteru, brow furrowed.

“Probably injured,” Minene agreed shortly. The five of them sped up the pace. As the staggering form got slowly closer, it dropped, collapsing in a dark heap on the ground.

“Are they alright?” asked Yukki, alarmed.

“Let’s find out,” Akise said lowly, quickening to a jog. “Celty-san, ensure Rika-chan’s safety.”

“It could be a bluff, guys, look out,” said Minene tightly.

Yukki awkwardly passed Kincho and his hat to Celty before running with bare feet after Minene and Akise. He found that his feet were practically gliding on the ground. This awesome ability combined with adrenaline inspired him with hope: maybe they could help this guy! Maybe they could save this guy! How wonderful! What a great feeling!

They reached the broken heap of person on the grass in no time at all. It was but one man, lying perhaps three meters away, none other than the god of calamity known as Yato. He was lying face-down on the ground, his black tracksuit torn, charred, bloody and marred by the divine choices he’d made in this dastardly game.

Yukiteru stiffened in recognition. He’s the guy that killed L. The guy… that almost killed A-ya… He subconsciously stepped back as Akise stepped forward. Minene hissed at the silver-haired one to be careful. Behind them, Celty and Rika peered around them to see what was up.

“Oi!” Minene barked, and Yato stirred.

With hazy, dulled blue eyes, the god looked at them all. His weary eyes flickered – in recognition? Anger? Grim acceptance?

In any case, they closed immediately after as he slipped into unconsciousness.

Minene held up a hand to everyone else before approaching and examining, swiftly checking his pulse (he was alive) and his consciousness (he was out cold).

[What do we do?] asked Celty.

“He has been going around killing players,” Yukiteru admitted apprehensively.

[He thinks I killed someone named Hiyori.] added Celty. [I watched when he first snapped. It was rather frightening.]

“Well, I say we off him while we can,” Minene said matter-of-factly, hands on her hips.

“But,” piped in Rika, “where is Nora?”

There was silence.

“Ah, who cares about her? I want her dead even more!” Minene growled.

“I think we should help him,” proposed Akise.

Why?” the terrorist answered, exasperated.

“Yukiteru-kun, you wanted to try and save everyone, right?” asked the boy detective with a crooked smile. The one he was addressing straightened. Yukki’s mouth opened and closed. He drew his lips into a thin line, considering. “It’s likely the case that he’s a victim of circumstance, like many of the other people in this game,” continued Akise. “Whether he’s killed people or not, aren’t we just obeying the structure of the game if we kill him while he’s down?”

“Yeah, and then what, he offs us once he’s better?” Minene scoffed, crossing her arms.

“It’s true that Nora isn’t anywhere nearby,” Akise pointed out thoughtfully, touching his chin. “Hm…” Distractedly, he pulled out his little investigation diary, opening it to one of its pages. A smile touched his pale lips.

“That doesn’t mean he can’t slaughter us.”

[Have more faith than that!] Celty responded. [If not in Yato, then in your group!]

“I think Celty-san’s pretty cool,” Yukiteru agreed, remembering what A-ya had said about her being a grim reaper of some sort. “And besides, you’re pretty badass too, aren’t you, Minene?”

“I, well, thanks,” she frowned. “Not what I was getting at. Why help a potential traitor?”

“Why feed the very structure of the game?” Akise answered, closing his notebook with a soft clapping sound. “I’m sure Yato-san… hm, Yato-sama?” he contemplated this. “Ah, well, he’ll be appreciative just for Celty-san and I to remember that he’s more than just a ‘god of calamity.’ He’s still mourning the loss of a boy named Yukine. We can smooth over the misunderstanding with you, Celty, so long as Nora remains uninvolved. It’s likely she’ll pop back in at any time unless she’s dead, which I doubt. He’s just as angry at this game as all of us are. I’m sure he just wanted to find the quickest route to its ending. Perhaps he just couldn’t handle his loss, and the rage consumed him.” He shrugged. “It could be that he’s incredibly unstable right now. That doesn’t mean we can’t try and give him some support. I’m almost positive that he doesn’t want to die here.”

But I think I like Akise, thought Rika, gazing at the boy detective. Could he really have ill intent? She almost dared to hope for a happy outcome.

[I agree with you, Akise.] said Celty, coming forward.

“I don’t suppose you could do as you did with Yukiteru-kun and Rika-chan,” said Akise to the Dullahan, and Celty perked up in question, paused, and nodded her helmet as dark tendrils began cocooning the beaten-down god, lifting him into the air as gently as she could while raising her phantom hand with the motion (not that anyone really noticed it was phantom). In her other arm was Kincho inside Yukiteru’s hat.

“There is another house just ahead. We’ll hurry there,” said Akise, and Celty nodded curtly.

“This is a fucking dumb idea,” muttered Minene.

“I wanna help him, though, Minene,” said Rika, and the terrorist deepened her frown.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re doin’ it. I know. I know.” Arms crossed over her chest, she grudgingly accepted the decision.

Mii, thank you, Minene!” cried Rika happily, prancing forward. Akise smiled knowingly at Minene, but the terrorist just grumpily trucked forward.

“Let’s just fucking find this place, already… I can see it, not too far…”

Looking at Celty, Yukiteru noticed that the Dullahan was trembling slightly under the strain of carrying Yato with her shadows. Yukki figured that she was still recovering from whatever happened in her game, and, blinking, he said to her, “Ah, Celty-san.”

She turned her helmet to him in acknowledgement, and he gave her an awkward look.

“Hey, if you got him safe and sound in your shadows, I got the heavy lifting,” he smiled lopsidedly, easing her strain with a little wave of his hand. “I’ve got the levitating thing going on now, so it’s okay!”

Celty seemed to falter before she nodded to him in thanks.

With the unconscious Yato in tow, they headed towards the house ahead to tend to him, for better or for worse.

 

Chapter 66: Debatable

Chapter Text

 

When Yato came to, his thoughts were cloudy and dark. He felt that he was on his back, and the lack of light burning through his closed eyelids told him that he was in the dark. I passed out, he thought hazily. But for how long?

Where was I…?

Clarity came to him slowly, like a trickling stream. He’d teleported away from Seidou, that was right – he knew that it would take just about every ounce of what he had left, but as long as he focused on reappearing somewhere where there were no other groups nearby, he’d be fine to rest.

He remembered trying to continue on, merely because he didn’t want to be near that stupid little house where he’d started this damned game. He remembered Nora telling him that they should stop; he should rest anyway, he needed it. She was very insistent, but he was very stubborn. He remembered seeing the people coming from far ahead, his vision going dark. He remembered the ground suddenly being at his hands, the grass a lush green between his fingers. Nora embracing him, saying in that soft, lulling voice of hers, “It’ll be alright, Yato. They don’t like me, but if I’m gone, they may take care of you. Let them tend to your wounds; I can transport myself… I just can’t take anyone with me.” He thought perhaps she had kissed him on the head in farewell. “Call me when you need, just make sure you’re well enough to leave, when you do. I trust you, Yato.” There was the sound of a droplet of water colliding with a crystalline pond. Nora was gone. Next he knew, they’d been upon him. He made out the biker girl through his darkening vision, and all he could process was that Nora was wrong, she was dead wrong and this was the end after all. But…

Upon coming to the realization that he wasn’t dead, suddenly his current situation was far more important to understand. Where was he? What had happened?

Eyes opening in a flash of blue, he sat up abruptly, sending a shot of pain through his chest, through his gut. From the blue-haired girl. From Kuroha’s new vessel. He gasped at the sudden sharpness of feeling, bringing a hand to his torso. He was surprised to find it properly bandaged – his chest was otherwise bare.

“You’re awake.” A smooth, satisfied voice. Yato quickly turned his head to look at the one speaking: a young boy with silver hair and rose eyes, his blue jacket complimenting the hue to his pale locks. He looked rather familiar. It seemed he was the only one in the room with Yato. The sliding door was closed, and there were no windows. Yato remembered this bedroom, easy. “You probably shouldn’t move too quickly,” said the boy. His mouth upturned in a terribly smug smirk that reminded the god uncannily of Izaya. His hands twitched – he felt the incredible urge to grasp this kid by his pale neck and—

“I assume you want some kind of explanation, of course,” said the silver-haired boy, closing his eyes. “You could try to kill me, but both of us know that isn’t such a good idea. Please wait a moment.”

Yato’s eyes narrowed.

“I’m Aru,” said the boy with that smirk touching his mouth again. “Aru Akise.”

He sounds like he’s imitating a spy movie, Yato thought. The thought struck him as odd.

The boy whose name was Akise narrowed his eyes slightly, the same smile smoothly curving his mouth. “I’m ‘the fourth member of Group 6.’ I suppose.”

Now Yato was just confused.

“I did meet you once, momentarily. That was when you fought for a bit with Izaya-san,” – Yato’s eyes narrowed further at the mention of him – “…as well as Suzuya-kun and Celty-san.”

Ah, yes, he remembered him now, if vaguely. Akise hadn’t been one of the ones fighting, so it was fair for him not to recognize him immediately. A terribly angry feeling began to swell in him – if this person was involved with Izaya… The image of the biker’s helmet came to mind, an image he’d seen just before passing out. His lips began to curl, his teeth bared. He spoke slowly. “I want nothing to do with Izaya.”

“Don’t worry,” Akise answered calmly. “Izaya isn’t involved here, not any longer. He parted from this group early this morning, along with the possessed A-ya and the other two boys from Izaya’s replenished group.”

So there were no demon vessels to worry about… Seemed they figured out that Kuroha was back. And, Izaya was with him? Was that the case? What a combo that would be. Disgusting.

“I would like something of you, if you wouldn’t mind,” the boy continued. Yato’s eyes narrowed further, but all he had to say was, “I’d like for you to accept our hospitality.”

Yato couldn’t help but continue to be tense. He could not relax. How could he relax? Why were they helping him? It didn’t make sense! What could they be doing? Were they idiots?

“You’ve obviously taken quite a few hits, and being tailed by the half-ghoul Seidou Takizawa surely didn’t help your case.” He stared at Akise blankly. “At this point in time, after having failed to attack our larger group in the last incident, I don’t think he’ll go near a larger group of people. Even if he were to attempt it, we have enough strong players on our side that I wouldn’t worry too much on it.”

“Who… is…?”

“Yukiteru Amano, Uryuu Minene, and Rika Furude are all a part of this group,” Akise explained easily. “Yukiteru-kun is currently of rather strong status, and Minene-san is… admittedly a terrorist, but her motives are the same as our own. Amazingly, she’s a wonderful partner.” He chuckled at the prospect. “Rika-chan is just a kid, so we’d like to do our best to protect her. Interesting that such a young child would be chosen for these games.” Noticing Yato’s questioning look, he added, “She’s only ten years old, you see. I would have thought that Yukiteru-kun and I would be young, seeing as we’re fourteen, but there are others younger,” he shrugged. “That’s not to say we’re not capable.”

“What about the biker?” He knew that Akise was hiding something; he had to be.

“That’s Celty-san,” he explained. “I do believe there is a misunderstanding amongst the two of you. I understand you think she killed a girl by the name of Hiyori?”

Yato flinched, telling Akise that yes, that was the case.

“I can understand the misconception that Nora may have had,” he resumed, pulling a small blue notebook from his pocket. “It seems that Nora is nowhere around right now… Knowing that this is a firm belief of hers, I’m glad we can have this talk now. In the female game, you see, there was a schism in Group 5, which was Celty-san’s group. There were two other girls left in this group: Shiro, also referred to as the Wretched Egg, and Eto Yoshimura. Celty-san had departed from these two by the time your friend was killed by Group 5. If I’m correct in my analysis, it was one of these two that killed her, not Celty. One could possibly argue that because Celty-san was a part of their group, it was her responsibility to stop them… but seeing as both Yoshimura and the Wretched Egg were either volatile and chaotic or manipulative and cruel according to multiple sources, I should say that it was fair for Celty-san to make it out of there as soon as she could in order to protect herself.” Closing his notebook with a thoughtful look, he added, “In fact, it was apparently Eto Yoshimura that was the final antagonist, and Celty-san aided in that person’s ultimate demise.”

Yato wasn’t looking at him anymore, his head bowed. Was Nora wrong? Was it that Celty wasn’t guilty? But, no. What did it matter whether it was Celty or not that had killed Hiyori? In the end, she was still…

“Yato-sama… well, is it alright if I call you Yato-san?”

Yato blinked at him. Did he just call me… ‘Yato-sama’? Just a few days ago he would have been ecstatic. He felt like maybe he should be, but instead he just felt… strange. He brought a hand to his bandaged chest. No, inside, he felt—just—empty. “Yato is fine, even without honorifics,” he said quietly.

“Well then, Yato, I hope that you will be able to—”

“Why are you doing this?” A harsh interruption.

“I understand that you hate this game as much as we all do,” Akise answered simply. “I’m sure you understand that the true enemy is whoever is running the show. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Yato nodded distractedly, his eyes averted. “You shouldn’t have tended to me. This will end badly.”

“That’s only if you make this decision a bad one,” Akise smiled.

“I’m only going to take from you; it’s all I know how to do.” A flat assurance.

“I’m sure we can teach you, then,” chuckled the boy. “In return for our hospitality, I ask that you bless us with your company, as well as keep our group pet occupied. That is… at least until you meet up with your partner again.”

His brow was furrowed. “Group pet?”

“We have an armadillo,” he explained with some amusement. “His name is Kincho.” Akise paused, thinking on this. “Of course, this all includes you, well, not hurting us. Can you do those three things?”

“I…”

“You’re a god, right?”

“…Yes,” he frowned, cautious.

Akise smiled, pleased, at him. “Then would it make a difference if I gave an offering?” Pulling his hand from his pocket once more, he held up a single coin. “A holy offering of the generic five yen?” He flicked it in the air, catching it as it fell and slipping it between his fingers, flipping it between his knuckles with skillful ease. “It isn’t much, but I thought it was a charming touch to my request.”

Yato stared in wonder. Of all the strange things that could happen to him in this game… Yeah, wasn’t it true that he accepted any wish for five yen? The way things were going, he’d be granting wishes of assassination like days long past… that is, once he actually got home. If he got home. ‘Fitting,’ huh, Akise? No kidding. You have no idea how well. He almost wanted to laugh, but the hollow feeling continued to consume his insides. “Yeah, what was that?” he held up a hand, and Akise flipped the coin to him. With a swing of his arm, Yato caught it with a grin. It felt wrong on his face. “Your wish has been heard…” Was it really fine to fake this persona? “…loud and clear!” It didn’t feel like it.

“Well, I’m glad to hear it,” said Akise, pressing his hands to his knees as he got to his feet. “I’m going to join the others out in the living area. Whenever you’re ready, you’re welcome to join.” Yato nodded at him, and Akise thankfully left.

The god’s plastered smile dropped the moment the door was closed. He stared with dull blue eyes at the coin gripped between his thumb and forefinger. Five yen. Oh, how wrong this felt…

So, the wish for me not to hurt their group, Yato thought distantly, pocketing the coin in his pants. I wonder when Hiiro will… ah, no, that’s right.

“I trust you, Yato.” Her words rang in his head, contributing to the growing feeling of some sort of emotional abyss.

Trust me, huh? Not to get attached? Not to ‘betray’ her? Ah, well, she’s probably right, anyway. Looking down at the bandages wrapping his torso without expression, he added, I am a God of Depravity, aren’t I? So there’s no harm in using their resources to help myself physically. They were right: Father told me that I knew only how to take away. It’s my foundation. Looking around, he found his bloodied white shirt and black jersey folded neatly at his side. Blinking slowly, he picked up his shirt. Maybe this situation is advantageous to me after all. You were right, Hiiro; of course you were. If one thing’s for sure, you do want to—take care of me. I guess. He sighed lightly, lying back down with his shirt crumpled on his chest and his forearm over his eyes. Am I supposed to act cold? Or do I pretend, as though I were the same as when I began this game?

The hand clutching his shirt tightened into a fist. I can only ensure that this alliance doesn’t last too terribly long. Already, I feel kind of sick.

Alone in the shadows of that bedroom, Yato lay in deep contemplation, as he would for some time.

In the living area, the others waiting watched as Akise exited the bedroom quietly, closing the door behind him in all gentleness. Yukiteru, Celty, and Rika all turned to him immediately, curious of the results. Minene looked like she didn’t care, but she was the one that asked: “Well?”

“He’s awake,” Akise smiled.

“Well, that’s… good?” said Yukiteru, rubbing at his arm.

[Does he know I’m involved?] Celty’s message was held up with some nervousness.

“He does,” the boy detective answered. “I can’t tell for sure whether he believed me when I told him about the misunderstanding with you, but he doesn’t seem to have violent intent for now.”

“Really?” asked Yukki brightly, hands gripped in front of him. “That’s great!”

“From here, we can only be warm and welcoming.” Closing his eyes, Akise seemed quite satisfied.

Rika watched him curiously from her standpoint in the area between the kitchen and the living space. It seemed this house had been torn up from the inside sometime previously in this game. Yukiteru had already cleared out most of the debris and, not sure what else to do, just put it all in a pile out behind the house. She wasn’t all too sure what to think about this situation. It was pleasantly new to her, but with new experiences came the need for judgment of action. The thing Hanyuu had told her—for Akise to be connected to Yato, this would make sense. Was Akise acting with pure intent, or not? I need to ask Minene about it tonight, she thought, looking out to where should could see the fading light of the sky. Turning from the scene, Rika left the living space with the resolve to make everyone some tea.


Shintaro was frustrated. He and the other three that remained from his broken-up allied group were in the city, going around the northern fringes and working their way down slowly. “I seriously don’t want to be here anymore,” he uttered under his breath. Shirou Emiya glanced back at him. Shintaro didn’t notice.

Shirou had a bag slung over his shoulder containing provisions they’d found in one of the buildings they’d inspected. Shintaro still had Tsuki’s medical satchel, clutching the strap with one of his hands as he trudged along after the rest of his group. Shirazu walked with his hands behind his head, relatively casual even though there was a static sort of silence between them all, save for Shintaro’s occasional grumbling. Above them, the sun was beginning to set.

“Not that I haven’t ever wanted to be here. At all. Seriously.”

“Or any of us, Shin,” sighed Shirazu.

Akira was impassively quiet, leading the way with some purpose that nobody questioned.

“I’m just a shut-in, okay? Why was I picked for this game, huh?” he complained.

“Hell if I know,” Shirazu answered.

“I just wanna be in bed… in air conditioning… with, y’know, a certain mysterious AI annoying the hell out of me while I try to forget this terrible dream where I’m caught in a death game with a pair of scissors as my weapon…”

“Certain mysterious AI?” Shirou repeated blankly.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” His voice was taut, breaking on the word ‘talk.’ “I’m not saying other people haven’t lost a lot here – I’m not saying that at all – I’m just kinda bummed.”

“‘Kinda bummed’ is a way to say it,” Shirazu agreed soberly.

“There’s something that’s been really bothering me, too,” Shintaro added, restlessly scratching at his black-haired head.

“What’s that, Shintaro-kun?” asked Shirou mildly, adjusting his bag.

“Just—Akira.” A short and blunt answer.

“Eh?” Shirazu stopped, turning to look at him. Shintaro stopped too, and then Shirou stopped a few paces ahead, looking back as well. Akira slowed to a halt herself, calmly turning around to face them all. “What’s wrong with Mado? I mean—Akira. Y’know what I mean.”

“Uhh… um. Not exactly what I meant, really,” Shintaro mumbled. “In fact, I like Akira… a-a lot, so… It’s not… I mean… Ugh.” He hung his head. “Maybe I should just lay down on the pavement and never get up.”

“Shin,” Shirazu protested, tilting his head.

“Become one with the concrete. I’ll be part of the ant kingdom.”

Shin,” the orange-haired one repeated.

“Shintaro,” Akira said firmly. “Is there something you’d like to say to me?”

“It’s not even you!” Shintaro cried. “I just—you’re, well, I mean, you’re really, really amazing? I guess? No, not ‘I guess’ but—but you know. Well, maybe not. But I just—it’s just so stupid because Seidou would be talking about how there’s this person that’s so wonderful and fantastic and how they’re so much better than him but it pisses him off because he doesn’t know what to do so he just gets mad and hates them—but then he’d compare me to this person and be like ‘Yeah, you remind me of them, which sucks’ and then I find out that it’s you, you’re this person but I am so not like you at all because you’re actually cool and I’m just a lame-o jobless shut-in that can’t make anything out of my worthless goddamn self all because of a stupid mistake I made and I—” His hands flew to his head. “Just—what the hell?! This is stupid! It’s stupid! It was you, the wonderfully terrible valedictorian, apparently! And honestly I feel even more stupid for spouting all this but I wanted to say sorry to you because he was supposed to before I came too late to stop him from touching that damned pillar, and—and—”

“Hey, man, that wasn’t your fault,” began Shirazu, but Shintaro began shaking his head emphatically.

“That’s not—my point at all.”

Akira’s eyes were mournful. “Shintaro,” she said again.

Shintaro’s eyes were burning. “So I wanna say sorry,” he said again. “There. I’m sorry. Because he was sorry and honestly I have no idea where he stands now but I’ll be sorry for him because—because this sucks.” He finished with a matter-of-fact tone, his eyes shining with tears he absolutely refused to shed.

Lost, Shirazu looked over to Akira, who closed her eyes. The blond was impassive, but Shintaro knew why she closed her eyes. In someone’s eyes you can see all sorts of things. It’s hard to mask emotion that’s felt so strongly. If you close your eyes, this feat is suddenly much easier. At this moment, Shintaro kinda wanted to pluck his own eyes out, as gruesome as it sounded. Would he be calm and mysterious without his eyes to give him away? Even further than that, if it were these eyes which granted him these unwanted memories, would it be that he could no longer remember all of these parallel outcomes, haunting him like twisted dreams? He felt so… not-solid. Reality was ungrounded, his mind’s eye had painted fantasies that actually existed, and he felt like he was floating out of his head. He feared the feeling of the night coming to consume him like it had before he’d even known of a girl named Ayano. That dreaded numbness, the kind that drowned you out in static and left you wondering whether you were living for real or not. Wondering if maybe existence itself was a dream.

Shintaro felt ill.

“Thank you, Shintaro,” Akira said, her tone warm. She staved off the ice beginning to form with ease, but that was only one piece of what the hikkiNEET was facing currently. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. It’s respectable just for you to have come as far as you have.”

He gave her a despairing look. He wanted to tell her that it was really just dumb luck that had brought him this far. He wanted to tell her that even though life sucked – of course it sucked for him to be where he was – Shintaro Kisaragi wasn’t necessarily that resilient of a person. He was no soldier. He was no survivor of some unfathomable trauma that no one dared speak. He wasn’t made to be a protagonist! He wasn’t ‘hero’ material at all!

It wasn’t that he wanted to die. An indirect desire though it may be, he wasn’t at the point anymore that he longed for death. Sure, he’d give his life willingly if it meant bringing back someone who deserved it: Ayano, for example. Tsuki. Hell, even Ene! Don’t dare forget Psyche; don’t dare leave out Delic…

He’d die just to bring Seidou back, if that was what it took.

Shintaro wanted to tell Akira that it wasn’t just that he wanted other people to understand that he was hurting. He knew they were hurting with him. He knew they ached to the core, maybe worse than he’d ever understand. He knew they’d lost people too. And he knew that they understood that he was suffering alongside them, in his own way.

But it wasn’t unity and empathy he was craving. He was so tired, and he didn’t know what to do. He wanted to tell her that it wasn’t that he was hurting with them, it was that he couldn’t handle the pain, and he was just about ready to break down if this all didn’t end soon—but it couldn’t, and it wouldn’t, because how could it possibly end? Sure, Ayano was dead, but she’d been dead for two years. No, it was that Tsuki and Psyche had died right in front of him. It was that Kido had died. It was that Ene, yeah, Takane had died. It was that Saiko and Touka were off the list of the living, the latter of which he went way out of his way to try and save. It was that Roppi and Konoha weren’t here. It was that Kaneki had left. It was that Seidou was gone.

And god, he felt so alone here. Of his original group, Seidou was god-knows-where doing god-knows-what… and Roppi was on his own mission with Konoha, who was also someone who could feasibly be considered close to him. To include Group 1, even Kaneki was gone, leaving only Shirazu… and unfortunately, his orange-haired comrade was someone he just had no idea how to connect with, as it was with most people.

“I just want my team back,” he said eventually, his voice soft, subdued.

Awkwardly, Shirazu put a hand to Shintaro’s red-jerseyed back. “Me too, man,” he said. Three casual words such as these somehow bridged the gap. Behind his sharp-toothed mouth, there were words Shirazu didn’t know how to speak, and for some reason, looking into those strange carroty eyes of his, Shintaro understood that really, Shirazu found just as much difficulty communicating his feelings as he did. It was odd, these simple words made perfect sense to Shintaro all of a sudden, as though they had some sort of secret code that they’d only just figured out how to use. Was it because they’d gone through enough together in this game? Was this what bonding with somebody felt like? Ah, maybe, but why put so much thought into it?

Just absorb. Just connect for once. Okay? Can we do that?

Shintaro bit his lip, unsure what to do with all of this building emotion. What was he supposed to say? There was so much he wanted to spill out. He thought he’d been holding up alright, choosing to save Roppi over giving in to his own demons. But now that Roppi was gone again along with the only person that Shintaro had managed to truly save, all of it felt so stale. Was there any point? Sure there was, but it didn’t feel like it… And when something feels like it has no point to it, no purpose, no weight, no reason… It’s not exactly the best of feelings to have consuming your insides.

And Shirazu, what of him? With resurfacing memories of his late father burned into his mind; with the anxiety for the missing Kaneki, Seidou, Roppi, and Konoha striking lightning through his chest cavity; with Seidou’s bone-chilling screams ringing on in his head; with the heaviness of Saiko’s dead body weighing on his conscience and making him feel leaden… What was it he was supposed to say?

“I know,” said Shirazu.

“Yeah,” said Shintaro.

Somehow, that was enough.

Closing her eyes again, Akira bowed her head as they conversed without words. She was glad they could find some form of solace within one another. Shirou’s eyes were lost but empathetic. He knew not what they’d faced, but did understand loss. Understood pain. Despite Akira’s emotional distance, she was the same. Shirou knew it. They all knew it, Shintaro most of all. Because when you have that aloof look in your eye, it doesn’t always mean you don’t care, right? Maybe it just meant you were good at compartmentalizing. Maybe it was just that you were used to shutting people out. Maybe… maybe Shintaro understood Akira pretty well, after all.

Some way or another, they got walking again. Their quiet was heavy but comfortable, like a wet blanket soaked with warm water. You don’t want to remove it because you know that it’ll be uncomfortable the moment it’s gone. It’s getting heavy, but you’d rather bear the weight than experience that displeasure.

It was Akira that removed it. “I understand,” she said slowly, “that you want the rest of your team back. That is loyalty at its finest.”

It’s not just group loyalty anymore, thought Shintaro. We’re a tight-knit group of… ‘friends’? Is that it? Amazing… I made friends. He almost broke into ironic laughter. The shut-in understood Akira’s thoughts. With something so emotionally draining, one must turn to face such a challenge with logic. What other way was there?

“Loyalty… In honor, as well as in bonds,” said Shirou, and Akira glanced back at him. “They’re all very important to one another, I think,” he explained, sheepishly scratching at his cheek. “Ties of the heart… can do more than you think.”

“Like what?” Shirazu frowned.

“Maybe if we talk to Seidou, he’ll come back?” suggested Shintaro, and he couldn’t help it anymore. A nervous titter escaped him. He wanted it to work. It’s what he imagined whenever he envisioned seeing Seidou again, but honestly… How could he know whether it’d be possible?

“Maybe,” Shirou agreed whole-heartedly. “There’s no harm in giving it a try.”

“Except if we die in the process, yeah, that’d be no problem,” Shintaro answered. Shirazu frowned at him, and he spread his arms. “What? It seems like everything goes wrong in this game. Konoha was the exception, and—I dunno, that probably has some horrible side effect. I’m surprised he didn’t come back possessed like before, really.”

“Please understand,” Akira began, and Shintaro felt some kind of fear strike him at her shift in tone. Very measured, as though she were speaking as mechanically as possible. As if what she was about to say was something she very much didn’t want to say. Something that ripped her up on the inside, so she’d need to portion her emotions precisely for each word. Distance herself from her own mouth. And if she had to do that, what would these words do to him? “There is a possibility that Takizawa…” She paused. She closed her mouth for a moment. Shintaro wondered if perhaps her mouth was dry. “…That Seidou has become something of… an antagonist in this game. Shirazu, you understand what I mean. You have known him as he is now.”

Shintaro’s eyes flicked to the orange-haired one as he swallowed uncomfortably, his cantaloupe-colored eyes reflecting some kind of horrific memory that Shintaro hadn’t seen. “Well, but, I mean—I got to, you know, talk with him as a human, and he… he’s so not like that.”

“That’s changed,” she explained patiently.

“But it could be different this time!” Shirazu cried. “I mean, he got to be friends with Kane-kun, even! And like, we’re all his buddies, so I—I’m sure we can—can figure things out! I, I mean, Kane-kun has some weird moments where’s totally not okay, but he always comes around, even if he does something completely heinous like stabbing one of us in the gut or tryin’ ta eat us, ya know? Like, he could just be like that! Like Kane-kun! Like—like Sassan, right? Right, Mado?”

“But has Kaneki killed anyone he wasn’t meant to? In terms of this game, to make things simple.”

“Kill? Well, no, of course not…”

“The half-ghoul, Owl, has killed many CCG officers.”

“Well, like I said, I mean… It could be… like… different… because…” Shirazu deflated. He didn’t know what else to say to defend his friend.

“Seidou Takizawa is the same person that he was in the beginning of this game,” Shintaro said matter-of-factly. “Just because they ‘fast-forwarded’ him or whatever, that doesn’t mean they sent him back to his world for a few years, right? It’s just memory implantation at this point, isn’t it? Whether what he was given was fact or fiction, right? So maybe in your heads… and his head too… he’s killed these people. Let’s accept that. But would he have done that, having known someone like Kaneki? When Kaneki seems like he’d probably understand a lot of the crap that happened to him in between, right? I don’t know whether someone like me could have a hand in his development… but… it’s worth a thought, isn’t it? For argument’s sake… we’ll say that yeah, they tossed him back, sped him up, and—and everything went the same way. That doesn’t change the fact that he’s the same Seidou Takizawa who’s the leader of Group 2… The same Seidou Takizawa had that long one-on-one with me the night before that big battle… The same Seidou Takizawa that gave me confidence when everything was so freaking scary. The Seidou Takizawa that told me off for being a dumbass. The Seidou Takizawa that listened to me and did his best to understand even though he didn’t know how; the Seidou Takizawa that trusted my judgment even though he was the kind of guy who was heavy with doubt all the time; the Seidou Takizawa that I risked my life for more than once… He’s the same Seidou Takizawa that became a hero to me, so—so god damn it, I won’t give up on him!”

“The same Takizawa that graduated with me at the academy,” Akira agreed softly, lowly. “The same Takizawa that worked alongside myself in our workplace. The same Takizawa that fought at my side the same night he went missing. Shintaro, I know… I’m not saying that he’s not someone I care about. On the contrary, I care for him more than he’ll probably ever know.” There she was, closing her eyes again, this time just a bit longer than a standard blink. “It’s for this very reason that we need to have this discussion. Despite our hopes, there is every possibility that he has become an antagonist that won’t go back on that.” She paused. “If that isn’t the case, I would very much like to help him to the best of our ability. In such a case, he’s most certainly more than welcome back…”

I don’t know that he could understand how badly we all want him back, thought Shintaro sadly, rubbing at the back of his neck with discomfort.

“…However, if he… If the half-ghoul Owl becomes a threat to ourselves and other groups that mean no harm, then we must come to an understanding. Under that pretense, it would be most proper for us, as his teammates, comrades, and… friends… We hold every obligation to end his suffering.”

Shintaro froze. “Wait, what?”

Akira, having expected this, continued forward. Shirazu and Shirou both faltered, but followed after. The hikkiNEET hurried after them in horrified stupefaction. “If that time comes where he begins killing other players,” said Akira, “that is when we need to consider this action. If he’s killing a player that has ill intent themselves, that’s a different story. I can presume that all of you understand the context I’m speaking of. If he crosses that line… He’s just not the person we’re looking for anymore. He’s just a bloodthirsty ghoul that needs to be exterminated. And as for Seidou Takizawa… He deserves an honorable death before that gets out of hand in this place. Whatever it is that he’s gone through… Whatever happened to create that outcome, it’s not something Seidou Takizawa should bear. Do all of you understand?”

It was Shirou who stiffened, his feet suddenly rooted in place on the concrete of the sidewalk. Not all of them realized it, but all of them came to a halt. Akira didn’t need to repeat herself, only allow the words to sink in. Shirazu bit his tongue, his eyes festering as they gazed down at his dress shoes. He knew what she meant; of course he did. He knew the devastation wrought by the half-ghoul Owl. He just couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that Owl and Seidou Takizawa were one and the same.

Shintaro felt his insides twisting within him. He was laying on his side atop an unfamiliar bed, longing for the bedroom of his own that had become his entire world for two years. He could still smell the scent of its mustiness; he missed air conditioning. He remembered something dark going through his mind, but even better he could remember the exact number of lines on the wall he stared at – a pale green striped with an off-white. Vertical lines. He imagined that the ceiling stretched far above him. He remembered the small designs inlaid within the wood of the bedside table. Every detail was clear, albeit dyed in thick anxiety and pessimistic introspection.

The gentle rapping on the door, snapping him from his thoughts. How he sat up instantly, a jolt of fear splicing his chest. The ringing sound his ears had then created for him in the silence. The second series of knocks, more insistent. More urgent.

His worried utterance of, “Is… that my door?”

The awkward and apologetic… shameful… way that Seidou had come into the room. …Yet still somehow proud. Those fiery brown eyes, brimming with simmering doubt and remorse. Shame, but always that determination.

“Shintaro,” he had said, “who you were in the past doesn’t matter, either.” The lamp had an annoying way of flickering slightly at random times. It rather bothered him. “If you could learn to accept yourself and be happy with who you are, I think… I think that would make that girl happy, too.”

Ayano, Shintaro thought, pained. He brought his hand to his chest, clutching at the black fabric of his V-neck shirt hiding beneath his red jersey. Oh, how Seidou had inspired him that night. There was no way he could possibly understand how much it meant to him knowing that Seidou, who supposedly despised the kind of person Shintaro was, had offered him acceptance. No, more than that. It was shocking and confusing that Seidou would go out of his way just to properly apologize. Just to make sure that Shintaro was alright.

Seidou hadn’t been perfect; of course not. Shintaro was sure that Ayano, too, had her flaws. But those feelings were surely genuine, and that kind of care from anyone other than his mother or sister was something Shintaro hadn’t really experienced since… since…

Let’s just say that it was before he was a shut-in.

But all that had transpired between them culminated into Shintaro finding a sense of purpose and coming to the epiphany that maybe, just maybe, he could be forgiven after all. Shintaro could think of Ayano and call himself a murderer all he wanted, but surely, if he could save one person, then maybe he’d be worth saving, too, right? Hadn’t Seidou saved Shintaro? Hadn’t Shintaro, who had lost his hero long ago, just dubbed Seidou to be a hero of today? How many others had Seidou saved? More than Seidou knew, no doubt.

The proposal Shintaro had made to him: “Kuroha… he’s not the bad one, it’s the demon possessing him… Maybe I can get through to him.”

Seidou had agreed. Seidou had told the other leaders – Kaneki; Izaya. And Seidou had assured him well enough that it would turn out okay. And god damn it, he’d managed to give Shintaro some confidence… and that was saying something!

Maybe… I can get through to Seidou? his thoughts suggested, but his grey-eyed gaze only darkened. Or, Akira could? Kaneki? He bowed his head. And yet, what happened with my plan to help Konoha free himself of Kuroha? Psyche was brutally murdered, of course. Tsuki, Yukine, and Shizuo all ended up dead. In the end, I had to give up on that hope, didn’t I? There was no other choice but killing him… Even if we have Konoha now, it’s only because he was killed at some point, and Aureus brought him back as himself. Granted, Seidou isn’t exactly possessed… but everyone has their demons, I guess. It was Shintaro’s turn to close his eyes. Does that mean that Akira might be right after all? Will we have to end Seidou just the same? What, is this my price for getting Konoha back? What the hell?

“No.”

Akira looked at the speaker: Shirou.

The auburn-haired boy stood in firm opposition to Akira’s proposal, his hands clenched into fists at either side. “There’s no way,” he said firmly.

“Do explain,” Akira answered him calmly.

“That guy, Seidou Takizawa, wasn’t he someone important to all of you? No, that part doesn’t even matter. Shintaro’s right about him being the same person you guys remember in a positive light, so give him a little more credit! People can change, for better or for worse… He could be an absolute villain now for all I care, but isn’t it true that he once valued the ideals of something heroic?”

Shintaro felt something splicing his chest again. At this rate he’d be torn in half.

“This,” said Akira, “is precisely the reason—”

“Are you saying that it’s better for him to be dead?” Shirou snapped. “He’s not a dog you’re supposed to put down – what, you’re saying he’s a lost cause? You’re just going to give up on him? Why jump to that conclusion without at least trying to save him? Huh?”

“Shirou,” Akira responded coolly, “you can’t save everyone.”

He faltered. “But there’s nothing wrong with trying, is there?”

“You shouldn’t judge what’s best for someone you don’t know.” There was masked pain in her words.

“I’m not trying to impose or anything, but I’ve got to disagree with you if you’re gonna say that killing this guy off is the best we’ve got for him! We don’t do that to people! We try to help them!”

“And how do you propose we do that?” she shot back, tone level but beginning to sound strained.

“Shirou… bud, maybe we should just drop it for now,” suggested Shirazu uncomfortably.

“I’m just saying that maybe we should take into consideration that it could be that we just need to actually try,” Shirou frowned, his eyes on fire.

“As if we don’t want to,” Shintaro said in pained tones, posture tense and hand clutching tightly the strap of the medical bag.

“Then should we go along with this mercy-kill idea? I think it’s terrible!”

“You speak as though I haven’t gone through all other options,” Akira said slowly, lowly. “You speak as though I haven’t had experience of loss.”

“As much as this sucks,” Shirazu added, “it’s not like Akira doesn’t care or nothin’… She’s gotta know what she’s doing, here. She’s known Seidou for forever, so she’s gotta have some idea of what’s best.”

“How can killing a person be what’s best for them?” Shirou protested. “That can’t be the way to save somebody!”

“But sometimes no matter hard you try, you can’t be a hero all the time,” said Shintaro with distress. “Sometimes you lose people no matter what.”

“And what’re we supposed to do if it’s the wrong choice?” he pressed.

“H…how do I know?” Shirazu asked, brow creased.

“Give me a break, here…,” uttered Akira, bowing her head. Her hand was at her mouth, her eyes shrouded by her pale bangs.

“What if talking to him doesn’t work? What do we do, then?” asked Shintaro in turn. “What if he doesn’t listen, no matter what we try? What, do we leave him like that?”

“I—”

“Does anyone know the right choice?” asked Shirazu desperately.

Is there a ‘right’ choice?” Shintaro added grimly.

“One mustn’t harbor regret, only continue forward,” Akira said flatly.

“But for something like that—!” argued Shirou further, and his words were halted by Shirazu’s bark of, “Wait a minute!

The four of them were suddenly silent. There was a pause.

“Wh…what is it?” asked Shintaro tentatively.

“People are coming,” said Akira urgently.

“But who?” Shirazu’s voice was anxious.

“We’ll find out soon enough. Prepare yourselves,” said Akira with authority. Before she’d finished, Shirou had already uttered a ‘Trace on’ under his breath, his two short swords materializing in his hands.

Another group was upon them.

 

Chapter 67: Hide-and-Seek

Chapter Text

 

Roppi had already apologized to Shinichi, Hide, and Rin, albeit grudgingly. It was a very awkward and uncomfortable gesture. Shinichi and Hide forgave him easy, but Rin was giving him quite a hard time as they trekked further on their journey to try and reconnect with the rest of Roppi’s and Kaneki’s groups, ready and willing to walk through the night if necessary. Roppi and Kaneki, on the way, began explaining to the other four the current situation surrounding the Harrowing Blade. They didn’t bring up the Harrowing Blade itself – rather, they were discussing the interference of the game masters with Seidou’s fate, and how they were going to break it. They all agreed to do what they could to help (excluding Rin, who was rather grumpy in her opinions on the matter even though she ended up agreeing in the end). It was unanimous that this plan would not be solidified until it was discussed with Shintaro, Akira, and the others.

Konoha, in the meantime, made sure that everyone was well fed in his quest to share food with everyone. He was very sad to discover that Kaneki couldn’t fathomably share food with him because it would make him very sick. The shame that the half-ghoul exuded upon this particular discussion was something far more potent than Roppi had ever gathered from him, but judging by the way he averted his eyes from the boy Hide, he figured that perhaps it had to do with their relationship.

Apparently Hide had also noticed the shift. “Kaneki,” he said eventually, and the other had to look at him again. “Stop worrying so much about what I’ve missed. About you being a ghoul and all?” He grinned lopsidedly. “I already knew, man. I already knew.”

Shinichi savored the shocked relief in Kaneki’s pale grey eyes. He could just sense the disbelief; the weight being lifted from his tired shoulders. It was refreshing.

Roppi noticed that there was less shame being exuded after that conversation. He was also keenly aware of the constant verbal prodding performed by Rin Tohsaka, who apparently was doing everything in her power to piss him off.

If I’m supposed to be nice to her, she’s really, really pushing it…

“Ugh, he’s no tough guy after all, Shinichi,” she remarked, rolling her eyes.

“No?” Shinichi replied, blinking blankly.

Roppi glared into the distance.

“Roppi is most certainly a tough guy,” said Konoha mildly. “Not that I know what that means.”

“Thanks a bunch, Konoha,” Roppi sighed.

Rin snickered.

“Keep the teasing to a minimum, Rin-chan,” warned Hide. “Ya could actually get him to answer you.”

“No conflict, please,” Kaneki said calmly, closing his eyes momentarily.

“No, of course not,” Rin answered easily. “We’re just making conversation, right, Roppi?”

“I want to punch you in the throat,” he informed, and she gave a bark of laughter.

“Roppi-kun, might I request your conversation?” asked Kaneki, making an attempt at saving Roppi from something that could potentially lead to his eruption. Obviously Roppi was trying very hard to contain himself, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t break at some point.

“Sure,” Roppi answered curtly.

Hide caught his friend’s drift without words, dragging Rin into a conversation with Konoha about what sort of person Konoha was and what sort of abilities he had. (“Oh, I am an android, I suppose… I can do things like carry cars if I want, or heal something that hurts on me… Or at least, I thought I could. It only worked once in this place, and that was when I woke up from dying. I can’t even die right, which doesn’t make sense, I guess…”)

“Please bear with the company,” Kaneki smiled at Roppi, and the bitter one sighed heavily.

“You say that like it’s an easy thing to do.” Roppi’s red eyes were at the ground, watching his own feet as he walked. “I’m not made for dealing with people… I hate everyone, you know.”

“Is that really true, though?”

Roppi didn’t want to look at Kaneki.

“I understand now what it was you were trying to do, at that time. Now that I know what that weapon is… You were aiming to use it on Light-kun, weren’t you? Why was that?”

“I know that I don’t hate everyone,” he mumbled irately. “I—didn’t want… Kaneki, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Of course,” Kaneki answered apologetically.

“It’s just that even if I do care, I don’t want to admit it, which sucks. And then when I try to help, I do nothing but make things worse…” Roppi drew his lips into a thin line. “I hate it. I just—” Roppi’s voice lowered to an utterance beneath his breath: “Can I not save one from the pitiless wave?”

Kaneki paused, glancing over at the dark one. “…Is all that we see or seem But a dream within a dream?” he finished, and Roppi stared at him. “You enjoy Edgar Allan Poe,” Kaneki smiled gently, and Roppi swallowed.

“Y…yeah, he’s my favorite writer.”

“I do enjoy his work,” said Kaneki soberly, his eyes distant. Ah, hadn’t he just quoted it in a conversation with Seidou recently?

That’s right—though his memories were patchy in his Harrowed state; in his kakuja state, he could still remember what Seidou had said to him to prompt a quote from the very same poem: “Don’t get me wrong,” he’d said. “It’s not like I can’t empathize with you… I get it. I totally get it. I know just how bitter the taste is when you’ve already died once.” Indeed, Kaneki had quoted that very piece to Seidou the human, and between these instances and the comments between him and Robbi just now, they’d almost covered the span of it, hadn’t they? He could only think of two small sections that had been left out as of yet.

Whether the Harrowing Blade is the best option or not, we must do something for Seidou. At the time I’d seen him again, I wish I…

Kaneki sighed lightly, and Roppi’s eyes flitted to him with some fear. “Ah, what is it?” he asked the half-ghoul. Though Kaneki knew he meant well, it certainly sounded like he was asking in grudging irritation.

“It’s nothing,” he assured him in answer, touching his chin gently. “I’m just thinking on what’s coming up ahead.”

“Ah.” Both of them departed from one another and into their own thoughts.

It wouldn’t be long before they were drawn back into conversation by Hide, by Rin. Konoha was getting rather excited to find Shintaro again. Shinichi was silently wondering whether Yukiteru and A-ya were doing alright. Rin and Roppi quickly fell to quarrelling while Hide happily conversed with everyone at once, drawing in even Kaneki and Shinichi. The two partial-whatevers made eye contact momentarily, finding some form of connection in the glance.

Shinichi’s eyes flickered, then, and he paused, turning his head to look elsewhere. Konoha, too, tilted his head, as though listening.

“Someone is just a bit away,” said the partial-parasite, and the android nodded in agreement, his brow furrowed.

“Izaya’s group is nearby,” Roppi warned sourly. “I’ve mentioned that, didn’t I, Kaneki?”

“You did,” Kaneki mused, thinking about this.

“It’s not just that. It’s…?” Shinichi closed his eyes, his senses expanding at the loss of his sight. Upon their opening, his throat preparing to tell the others of what he’d heard, a crash interrupted them, sending a mild tremor through the ground. A sudden urgency filled them all. Everyone turned to either Shinichi or Kaneki, and the two of them looked at one another in shock at the others’ dependency on them of all people. Shinichi rubbed the back of his head with a sheepish smile.

“Let’s tread carefully, but be quick,” Kaneki said curtly.

“Who woulda thought! Ken Kaneki, the kid who never partakes in clubs at school! A leader, I say, a leader!” exclaimed Hide with good-natured amusement. “I knew you had it in ya!” They were off.


“That was almost really bad,” remarked Twelve, his hands to his head in all casualness as he walked alongside Suzuya after Izaya and A-ya. “I’m still a little confused on the whole purpose of that though, you know? Like… Kuroha, that was his old vessel, yeah? Why’d he jump at the chance to get to him?”

“He want the body back?” suggested Suzuya, pulling idly at one of the threads in his throat. “Good body, prob’ly.”

“Something like that would be a bit like betrayal, wouldn’t it?” Izaya inquired amusedly.

“I don’t know whether he really wants to be back with that body, but it wouldn’t make sense to me if that were the case,” A-ya admitted. “I suppose I understand if that body were more useful. I guess it depends on what he thinks of that… vessel.” He paused. “Ah. Wrong.”

“Wrong?” Twelve and Suzuya said together.

A-ya shook his head, closing his eyes. “I don’t wish to return to that body,” he said lowly. Suzuya and Twelve were beginning to get used to his little flips between the dully mischievous A-ya and the cold and cruel Saeru. “That brat—knowing he’s alive, it’s not that I want to use him again. No, absolutely not. On the contrary…” A-ya’s mouth twisted into that distorted smile that didn’t seem to quite fit on his face. “I’d rather kill him. Ah, better yet, I’d like to let him suffer, first. I’d like to incapacitate him and tear his world away from him again; I’d like to open his chest to the elements, pry open his ribs and force him to look into his empty chest cavity, yes, force him to realize that there really is no heart in his chest; he is a fake, a fabrication – and an empty vessel is all that he’ll ever be.” His words spilled from his mouth in growing malice, distaste sharpening his enunciations.

“That’s a complete enough description, I think,” Twelve remarked, rubbing behind his ear with an eyebrow cocked. Suzuya, who was staring blankly at the dark-clad demon, glanced momentarily at the terrorist.

“Huh,” was all he had to say about that.

“But A-ya, how do you know the demon isn’t lying?” Twelve inquired with a shrug, and Izaya laughed a bit.

“Even though I don’t know his thoughts,” A-ya answered, a slight shakiness to his tone, “but I can definitely feel his emotions…” He paused. “Twelve, that’s the wrong thing to ask, anyway.”

“Mm?” Twelve blinked his bright eyes at him. “How’s that?”

“There’s no such thing as that. In this world, there are only things that sound like lies, and things that sound like truth. That’s all there is, and all there will ever be.”

“That’s such a broad spectrum!” Twelve laughed.

“But, what?” Suzuya’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “If someone says something that they know isn’t true, though…”

“Think on the premise of ‘truth is stranger than fiction,’ then,” A-ya said simply. “Whatever it is they say, if you can’t tell it’s a lie, doesn’t it sound like truth?”

“I guess?”

“Doesn’t that defeat the entire purpose of the search for ultimate truth, and all that?” inquired Twelve. “Under that logic, truth doesn’t matter, does it?”

“Nothing really matters in the end, does it?” answered A-ya easily.

“Talk about pessimism,” snickered Izaya.

“Nothing matters, huh?” repeated Twelve, thoughtful. “I’d have to disagree, myself. Something like what you said, A-ya… You know that kinda makes you sound like a liar, right?”

“I know.” His voice was dull and distant. Hey, L… I’m that kind of demon too, he thought, addressing the deceased detective. Ironically, it was the discovery of ‘truth’ that ended you. But whereas you were offed by a god, I’ve been revived by the devil. Who’s the genius now?

He wanted to be childishly happy about the accomplishment, but he still felt so ill thinking about L. Thinking about Roy was worse. Roy, who had snapped him out of his head when he was arguably about to shut down for good… Roy’s death cut into him far deeper than he’d ever like to say.

I know you’re possessed, but there’s no need to call me ‘the devil,’ the serpent answered him. To be precise, I’m not even a ‘demon’ by definition, I suppose.

It depends on your definition.

Well… you’re not wrong.

“What an interesting mentality, I have to say!” exclaimed Izaya, raising his hands. “Cast aside reality for the idea of perception, right? What one perceives becomes one’s reality. It’s an inevitable part of our existence. Even if something is not ‘real,’ not ‘truth’… It can still become ‘truth’ if someone believes it, right? Isn’t that what you’re saying?”

“Yes, I suppose I am,” A-ya concurred.

“It’s like the logic of ‘emotional reality,’” Twelve came back in. “Ah, and how feelings skew your perception, am I right?” He shook his head. “Fine, fine, I do see where you’re coming from.”

“The idea of the monster known as a ‘liar’…” A-ya trailed off, his red eyes distant. Izaya’s eyes flickered to him for just a moment before returning to watching ahead. “The ‘sin of lying,’ I guess it is.”

Suzuya’s eyes unclouded, he tilted his head. This made far more sense to him than the previous direction the conversation had been going.

“That kind of crime,” explained A-ya, “cannot be judged properly by people as ‘people.’ Because even if you say something that is really, truly a lie, but you make it sound like truth, it becomes truth, in a sense, doesn’t it? If you can convince everyone of your words, you are not guilty. That’s what’s so scary about someone we call a ‘liar.’”

“In that case,” Suzuya said seriously, “the only one that can judge a ‘liar’ is themselves.”

“They are their own jury,” Twelve agreed. “But if they’re lying to themselves, if they convince themselves they’re innocent, where does the sin go?”

“It…” Suzuya took pause.

“That’s just it!” A-ya said, his voice strained in its nihilistic mirth. “There is no law to pardon that sin, and yet none to punish it either! Whether something is ‘real truth’ or ‘false truth,’ it becomes truth all the same. It just doesn’t matter anymore! If one of these sinners were to carry their regrets, the very worst part is that only they will know it. It is only a part of their reality, that’s all. No one else’s. And if they’ve let go of that regret, well, they’ve gone around creating new truths in the world. What power is that? How wonderful; how terrible.”

“And then, what if someone were to prove them wrong?” Twelve’s eyes were glimmering. “What then?”

“Then that reality is shattered.”

“And what’s left after that?” asked Suzuya. “If it can’t be ‘truth’ anymore…”

“Aa, what’s left…” Izaya’s laugh had a darker note to it. “What’s left is someone who doesn’t exist anymore. That sinner would have had to create themselves for that ‘lying reality,’ wouldn’t you say? In destroying their fabricated reality, it’s really destroying the part they’ve been playing all along. To prove their every word wrong is to prove their existence wrong.”

“What is that, then?” The CCG officer picked absently at his lower lip. “Is that person someone who ‘seems like a lie,’ or someone who ‘seems like truth’?”

“Neither,” Twelve answered soberly. “They’re just a fool.”

“…Ah.” Suzuya stopped picking at his lip.  “I see.” He began to hum a droning, dull note. “Twelve?”

“Hm?”

“When will Izaya be the fool instead of the fooler?”

“Ah—” Twelve was obviously alight with amusement. He turned to the informant.

Izaya had already erupted with laughter. “Hah? So brutally honest, Suzu-chan! I can’t take it!” He paused in walking, waving Suzuya off. “No, no, it’s not that I’m offended, don’t worry about that! Really, I completely understand! Me, well, sometimes even I can’t trust myself, you see.” He ended with continuous dry mirth that died into snickers that he simply could not contain.

A-ya watched the scene dully, his eyes flickering occasionally with a light that was not his own. He closed his eyes, allowing a calm to spread through him. He thought to himself that the universe was truly vast, empty, and cold. Cruel. Such a feeling began to fill him. He could outlast eternity; he could freeze over hell. It was a thick feeling, though, too thick to be something like outer space. It was not like the star-filled midnight that he once gazed upon with Yukiteru, no, this was an expanse of viscous, sinful honey.

He heard people ahead. A-ya knew what came next.

“Keep in mind,” said Izaya, “that Roppi-san and the android are still somewhere nearby, most likely. We’ll be wary of such an encounter, yeah, A-ya-kun?”

A group is just ahead now,” A-ya and Saeru answered, their serpentine orbs seeming to cut through the air they gazed through. He was looking straight ahead.

Twelve and Suzuya paused. The CCG officer tilted his head, questioning.

“What’s the plan, A-ya-kun?” inquired Izaya lightly, his tone cautious.

We need to thin them out,” they answered, tone dead.

The informant seemed to think on this while Suzuya looked to Twelve and the terrorist watched Izaya intently, waiting to see what he’d do. “I’ve come to find,” said the information broker, “that in this game, you can’t go around killing people. To go from group to group, being able to slaughter a lot of people at once is next to impossible – the most you can catch is two at most, in any given situation. If you go the genocide route, it’s a very slow process that usually gets you brutally injured and eventually killed. It’s the way this game is run. Surely Kuroha-san remembers this from his first attempt running through this game, hm? Were you ever able to commit the bloodshed you’d intended?”

A-ya’s body shuddered as though in protest. “You think I don’t know that?” he asked, voice acid. “It just depends on how you go about it, that’s all. I can’t kill a whole group at once, huh? Then all I need to do is split them up, as all. It makes sense, doesn’t it, Izaya?”

“Oh, I see!” Izaya spread his arms. “One at a time, hah? You going to do the splitting?”

A-ya’s eyes bored into him. “Yes,” they answered eventually.

“Good, good!” He clapped his hands a few times. “Isn’t that just perfect, then? Why don’t the rest of us – we three here, see – why don’t we play a game of our own, hah? It’s a scavenger hunt – we’ll do what we can to our targets, too. How’s that, A-ya-kun?”

A game…,” A-ya repeated. “Yes,” he said, “let’s do that.”

Twelve and Suzuya looked on as Izaya pulled them right on ahead into this terrible plot.

I’ll scatter them now.” The voice that was A-ya’s had an apologetic note to it, but the other voice had a tone to it that suggested the beginning of some obligatory mission. “I don’t expect any of you to behave foolishly,” the demon added, eyeing all three of the others, one at a time.

“I’m no fool,” Izaya smiled wryly, his hand always on the hilt of the Prophet.

“Yeah, yeah,” Twelve waved the possessed one off. “I get it.”

“So the mission is kill who we find?” inquired Suzuya, tugging at a strand of his snow-white hair. His eyes were wide and unreadable.

Do with them as you will. Incapacitate them instead, if you want. Let’s test out this theory, shall we?” Pausing here, the dark-clad demon’s eyes flitted upwards momentarily. The goddess that hid beyond their perception shuddered fearfully. Hanyuu deeply regretted having to follow them around. How could the news be possibly brought Yukiteru that A-ya was doing something like this? What’s more, was she supposed to do something? Due to the nature of her existence, there wasn’t much to do within the realm of her power right now.

Suzuya saluted to A-ya with blank expression. “Alright! Understood.”

A breathy laugh escaped A-ya’s pale lips, his mouth curling slightly. “Begin.” The dark-clad hero bounded into the air and after the group who awaited them just beyond the building he was leaping over now.

“Well,” said Izaya, pleased, “we’re still close by; no reason to get ourselves killed by being traitors. Shall we?”

Suzuya’s head was bowed in inscrutable emotion—or lack thereof.

“Oi, Izaya, I’ve got a question for ya,” said Twelve, his eyes narrowed suspiciously as he lifted one of his grenades from his belt. He began to casually toss it into the air and catch it, again and again without thought. It was treated as an insignificant object – say, a potato. It was hardly strange to the other two, who would play the same idle games with knives. “Your original theory; your original plan… Whatever happened to it?” Izaya smiled thinly at him, eyes narrowing. “Whatever happened to the ‘ultimate alliance,’ huh? Just scrap it, or what?”

Silently, Izaya merely put a finger to his lips, hushing him before spinning playfully around and prancing away as the first impact sent shivers through even the ground beneath their feet.

The possessed boy had perched atop the roof of the building separating his group and their current target – a group of four whom A-ya had never interacted with himself. He sensed the serpent’s thrill at seeing one he called “Recorder.” Comically, they were distracted by inner conflict at first while A-ya looked down on them without expression. The sky was darkening. The sun was beginning to set.

Tell yourself that it’s just business.

He could feel Saeru’s sharp-toothed grin, and his insides writhed at the image. I’m working with three others, and somehow I feel more isolated than ever.

No reason to kid yourself, Loner. You’ve always been isolated.

Is it that I’m alone again?

That you are.

Ah, I thought so.

It was oddly satisfying, watching the group beneath him freeze. Even more to stand on that ledge, his tips of his shoes teetering off the edge. He knew that as a human, this drop would have killed him. There was deep gratification as he slid from the ledge and freefell down five stories, his stomach lifting and his cerebral spirits soaring with the demon’s lust for the production of this oncoming tragedy. He felt less like he was falling and more like the air beneath him was parting just to make way for his presence.

He heard the harsh bark of the word “Above!” from the only female of the group, but the orange-haired one and the redhead were already looking as the dark-clad hero landed with calamitous grace, the asphalt fracturing beneath him like A-ya’s crumbling psyche. The one Saeru called Recorder cried out in alarm.

Red static surrounded him. The serpent took over for instinct as the redheaded one, Shirou, went at him whilst dual-wielding his two short swords. He swiftly slipped out of his range and into Akira’s, then jumping into the air to avoid them and the physical attack about to be dealt him by Shirazu. Shintaro was backing up, slow and halting. As they fought, A-ya began amassing his dark-clad energy, the air filled with electricity. In one grand swoop of his arms, he sent all four of his opponents skidding backwards a few paces. Shirou immediately charged again, his teeth gritted. Lightning struck where he was about to step, and he faltered, backing up with narrowed eyes of golden-brown.

Stop that, will you?” A-ya’s hand were to his face, his body hunched forward. His presence exuded darkness that contrasted with the afternoon light. “No… I have other group members. You lot are surrounded, you know. Understand? Every man for themselves.” Raising his head, he dropped his hands, fingers curled slightly as if in some unconscious desire to grasp something that wasn’t there. An eerie smile stretched across his features, a manic glint in his shining crimson eyes. “Let’s play hide-and-seek.

The air was hyper-charged – none of the four targets dared get too close for fear of electrocution. Shirou looked like he wanted to pounce anyway, but even the martyr was smart enough not to make a move yet.

I will give you twelve seconds. Ready?” Without waiting for a response, the possessed one plowed his fist into the street, lightning flashing around him and aiding in his goal to destroy the basic landscape. A clear street was too damned boring, and who was to say they’d actually play along if he didn’t give them incentive? If he didn’t give them a chance to properly hide? He needed to separate them, not inspire retreat.

The upturned city street sent Shintaro, Akira, Shirazu, and Shirou alike in varying states of disorientation. Shintaro had fallen backwards, slipping on the lopsided blacktop and landing hard on his tailbone, only to consequently slam his shoulder as he lost his balance trying to protect the medical bag. Shirazu, although surprised, was able to jump around enough not to be too terribly affected. Shirou, who had managed with only the dematerialization of his swords and a few scrapes, turned with concern to Akira, whose leg had been caught in the rubble. As life goes, it only made sense that she hurt the ankle that was already sprained. Complications, complications.

…Four… Five…

“Everyone, find shelter!” Akira barked, and all at once the others began scrambling to escape the messy street and take refuge in one of the nearby buildings.

“Mado-san, are you alright?!” Shirazu cried. “I ain’t leavin’ nobody!”

“I’m fine!”

“I’ve got her!” assured Shirou.

Shintaro listened to the chaos and to the ringing in his ears. To the numbers steadily climbing to the sureness of his demise. “…Eight… Nine…” Grimacing, Shintaro forced himself to move, scrabbling through the rubble and staggering into a door that he practically slammed himself into on accident. He moved on autopilot, his breathing already haggard.

When I get home, he thought, I’m never gonna have to exercise ever again. Not that I ever did at all. And not that I’ll actually make it home. Wincing at the thought, he slipped into one of the thin corridors, his heart beating like a bass drum in his ears. It throbbed; his head ached. I’m sick of this. Looking around, he found he had no idea where he wanted to hide anyway. What’s the point of hiding from…? A chill ran down his spine. It was him, wasn’t it? That snake. It had to be.

“He came back after all,” he breathed, dragging himself up the stairs as fast as his fatigued self could go. “Please let everyone else be okay. Please, oh please…” He passed through hallway on hallway – this place was a maze. He eventually leaned against a wall of beige, clutching his chest as he tried to stop himself from wheezing. In his attempt to silence himself, he tried to listen to his surroundings. I should find an inconspicuous room or something. He heard footsteps echoing through the halls, and his heart suddenly began freaking out in his chest again. Crap. Crap. Crap. Holding his breath, he inched towards the turn in the hallway. The footsteps got louder; he felt positive they were coming from the way ahead. In all caution, he peered around the corner, searching for someone waiting for him down the next hallway. The abandoned corridor he looked at contrary to his expectations oddly gave him even more anxiety. He watched the stillness for some time before beginning to creep forward, ready to tip-toe to the nearest closet and—

I found you.

Shintaro’s head snapped back as a hand grasped at his mouth from behind – he didn’t have the time to gasp or scream. He found himself being dragged backwards, too numbly frightened to fight back too terribly much. He was jerked back into a dark room, the door closed in front of him with a soft click.

“Don’t scream,” said his seeker, soft and low, and Shintaro finally found the nerve to fight as he was released, nearly sending himself tumbling to the floor in a straight-out faceplant. Wheeling around, the shut-in saw Izaya Orihara looking at him, his eyes glimmering even in the dark, his smirk-smile cruel as ever.

“I-Izaya?” Shintaro stuttered, unsure of how to take his arrival. Was he still being threatened, or not?

The informant brought his silver-ringed finger to his lips. “Don’t be too loud, now, Shintaro-kun. You don’t want Kuroha-san to find you, do you?”

He stiffened, swallowing thickly.

“I didn’t think so,” Izaya smiled, gesturing for Shintaro to follow him to the corner of the room next to the door. If the door were to open, it would be blocking them from sight for anyone that happened to walk in. Side-by-side, they backed against the wall. Shintaro felt hopelessly terrified. At least it was kind of like he was in some cool anime.

“So, um—” How should he put this? “Uh, Izaya, are you… er, on our side, or…?”

“Well, yes and no, to be honest,” Izaya answered, and Shintaro frowned at him as the informant began toying with his beige-trimmed sleeve. “You see, after Roppi-san went on his little machine gun spree, I can’t be entirely sure that you that you like me anymore.”

“I never liked you,” Shintaro informed him with deep exasperation.

He snickered in answer. “Fine, fine; I apologize. What I mean is that I didn’t know whether I’d be welcomed by your teams any longer, or whether I’d be treated as an enemy.”

Shintaro’s eyes narrowed. “I mean, Yato tried to kill us after the fact.”

“And Seidou tried to kill us,” Izaya shrugged. “So did Roppi, but you know that. I think both of them really don’t like me.”

“I don’t blame them or anything.”

“Hey, keep in mind I’m helping you out here, Shintaro-kun,” Izaya told him with a cold half-smile that seemed more strained than anything.

Shintaro decided to hold his tongue on that. “Uh… But, um… so… Seidou…?”

“Seidou’s changed quite a bit, it seems,” Izaya grinned at him. “Yes, he most certainly tried to kill me, not to mention the fact he attacked Suzu-chan, who apparently knows him. When he showed up, he seemed to already have some blood on hands… and around his mouth. He needs a napkin, at least. Completely immodest. Messy. Inhuman, perhaps?”

Shintaro furrowed his brow uncomfortably.

“To say I’m not curious would be a lie,” he chuckled. “What did happen, Shintaro-kun?”

“What happened to Yato?” Shintaro shot back.

“Good answer,” Izaya laughed quietly. “That aside, Shintaro-kun, in respect to whether I’m on your side… let’s say ‘yes.’ I want to help you out.”

“Why?” he asked suspiciously, but Izaya only shrugged.

“You’re interesting. You and I were still allied at one point, you know. I’m relatively sure that you agreed to it mostly because you wanted to avoid conflict, am I right? But I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted to create the ultimate alliance. The allied Groups 1 and 2 were arguably the most successful one of the game. Even though everyone’s scattered now, it seems that you’re still with Shirazu-kun, right? Well. There’s also that you’ve miraculously survived thus far, which is pretty good for a hikkiNEET such as yourself. There must be something going on here, unless you want to make the argument of dumb luck?”

He drew his lips into a thin line, avoiding eye contact.

“Really!” the informant scoffed. “You need more confidence, friend!” As he spoke, he brought an arm around the red-jerseyed boy’s shoulders. Shintaro very much disagreed with the gesture, shoulders bunching in discomfort. “That goal of mine hasn’t changed one bit, Shintaro-kun. And you’re the only one I’m going to tell that fact. You should feel special!”

“Only me? But why?

“I do like A-ya-kun… but both you and I know that if he’s Kuroha’s new vessel, he either must be controlled or eliminated.” Izaya paused, and Shintaro stared, troubled, at the deep grey tiles beneath his feet. After a few beats too many were spent in silence, the NEET turned to his head to look back at Izaya. He couldn’t make out the informant’s eyes, but he wasn’t smiling or anything. It was a rather dark expression.

“Um?”

“That being said,” Izaya continued, “I want you to continue collecting other groups. For now, I’m going to have a little fun behind ‘enemy lines,’ so to speak. I don’t know what to do with the poor unfortunate soul that was A-ya-kun, but I know I can’t exactly exorcize him. Yato-san could, I’m sure, but I doubt he’ll be doing such a thing now. If we unite against the demon, it will only end the same as last time, right, Shintaro-kun? This sword right here; I call it the Prophet. It might be able to kill Kuroha. It might be able to kill Yato-san, who has now become the same sort of threat. It most certainly can work against Nora, who I don’t particularly agree with either—everyone knows that she needs to go, too. This game can’t end until the warmongers are gone. It seems that the game masters are trying to make one out of Seidou-kun, too, which means they’re going to try and drive his decisions the way they want them to go. Hah… Good luck with that one.”

Shintaro frowned.

“If you meet anyone by the name of Aru Akise, be wary of him,” he added, and the shut-in blinked.

“The silver-haired one that had the bullet-proof vest?”

“The one and only,” Izaya smirked. “It’s not that he’s inherently bad or anything… just rather suspicious.”

“Uh-huh.” Shintaro drew his lips into a thin line. “So then, why should I believe anything you’re telling me right now, huh? How do I know for sure what you’re saying is true?”

He shrugged once again. “Faith?”

“That’s definitely not gonna cut it, here,” the red-jerseyed one sighed. “How do I know you’re not just saying that stuff; how do I know you’re not actually on the side of the snake, huh?”

“Do you really think I’d want to side with a legitimate demon?” Izaya snickered.

“No, I think you’re too smart to pretend to side with a legit demon who will rip your head off if you betray him,” Shintaro frowned.

“Call me a rebel,” he grinned, and Shintaro could only shake his head.

“I don’t know if I can believe you.”

“That’s perfectly okay. I wouldn’t believe me either,” he admitted.

“If you really are pretending, what are you thinking? Kuroha’s gonna know; he’s gotta know! He’s figured it out with other people; he’ll figure it out with you too, Izaya – you’re going to get yourself killed. Do you want that? But even if you agreed with that creepy snake, I wouldn’t be surprised either!”

“Like I said, do you really think—?”

“You have before! You have before, and you could do it again! He’s used you as a tool, and he’ll do it again! What am I supposed to do, here?!”

Izaya stared back at him silently, a smile of interest slowly curling his mouth. “Ah, Shintaro-kun… Have your eyes always glowed like that?”

“Ah—” Shintaro hastily tried to bring his hands to his now-red eyes.

“Is it that you’re possessed too? Or have you just always been a monster?” Izaya was leaning in closer, his eyes glimmering in his icy curiosity.

“S-stop that, I just—no, I’m not possessed, I don’t think— It’s not like this has always happened, just sometimes—in some games, in some—routes… um…”

“You know about the previous games?” Izaya asked blankly.

“He remembers the other routes?” piped up Hanyuu in equal amounts of alarm, upon which Shintaro let out a yelp of shock at her sudden reveal.

“Wh—who are you?

“Who are you?” Hanyuu cried right back. “Explain yourself, right now!”

“I—”

An explosion rocked the foundation beneath them, sending Shintaro to his knees. Unsurprised, Izaya smiled at the ceiling, his hand to the wall.

“Au, au—uauauuu…!” wailed Hanyuu, but Izaya only gave a soft heh.

“Seems Twelve’s getting a little bit bold, isn’t he?”

Shintaro’s stomach dropped. “T…Twelve?”

The spraying of the smoke-activated sprinklers answered him.

“We should leave the building,” said Izaya simply, and grabbed Shintaro by the wrist, pulling him quickly from the room before the shut-in even had a chance to respond, let alone protest.

 

Chapter 68: Caught

Chapter Text

 

Twelve watched Izaya go, shaking his head. The informant didn’t have to warn them any further not to go against the demon. Twelve couldn’t help but laugh at him. “But he didn’t answer my question, did he? Jeez.”

There was a cracking sound as Suzuya’s scythe went into the ground. Twelve looked at him curiously. “I’d better be good. I’d better. Gotta be a good boy, don’t I?”

The terrorist tilted his head. “Why’s that?”

“I wouldn’t want Mama to be cross with me,” Suzuya answered him, lifting his head and staring at the other with a wide smile edging on mania. “Right, Rei-chan?” and he began to titter.

Twelve thought on this. “How about this, Suzuya?”

“Wazzat?” He’d taken on a dark tone, his eyes wide but shadowed, ear cocked so that he could hear what he needed to where the action was.

“You want to be an accomplice to a terrorist?”

“Accomplice?”

“You wanna help me out?” he beamed, spreading his arms. “You don’t have to listen to Izaya, and you don’t have to listen to the snake demon. You don’t have to listen to your mama. You don’t have to listen to this game. Ah… but you don’t have to listen to me, either, in that case. It’s all up to you. My point’s that you do what you wanna do. Get it?”

“What… I…?”

“But hey, if you wanna help me out, say so.” He grinned wider, shutting his eyes. “It’d be a real blast; promise!”

Suzuya blinked at him, returning to his original state of blank disconnection. “Uh…”

The ground shook beneath them, quaking harshly to the point of sending both of them into a crouching position, one hand on the ground. “You know,” commented Twelve, “I think it’s real cool that you’re left-handed.”

“Ah… Thanks.”

They just kinda looked at one another for a bit before Twelve began to laugh. Suzuya joined him, even though he wasn’t altogether sure why. But that made it real, so it was okay. “What do I do?” Suzuya asked him as the terrorist got this his feet again.

“Hm?” He gave him a knowing look. “You helping me out after all?”

“Depends. What do I do?” he repeated.

Grinning ear-to-ear, Twelve pulled a collection of plastic baggies from his shorts pocket and tossed them to the CCG officer. Suzuya caught them with ease, squinting at the items in perplexity. “Thought I was doing nothing while we were in the shopping district? Izaya gave me tons of extra time when he was stalling that morning – you know when he was playing boardgames by himself and all? Careful with those, by the way” – Suzuya had opened one of the bags to inspect – “…they’re highly reactive to water.”

“Re…active?”

“Like, think about it this way: those little guys really hate water. So if they catch a whiff of even water vapor, they’ll flip. And by flip, I mean they’ll blow up. Literally.”

“Oh.” He closed the bag back up, following after Twelve as the terrorist gestured for him to follow.

“What we’re gonna do is split up – take these outta their bags and spread these things in the upper floors of the buildings people hide in. We want to clear out the buildings, understand? We’re driving them down and out. That’ll be the mission.” Twelve’s chocolate eyes were glimmering with mischievous light. “We want everybody – I mean everybody – back outside on the streets. Can’t play hide-and-seek if nobody’s hiding.”

“So…?”

“So by the time anything can happen, machine-gun-guy and android-vessel will come rushing over here to save Hostage-san.” He pointed to indicate Shintaro, running for safety in the building they were peeking out from the side of. “Shintaro – that is, Hostage-san – was with machine-gun-guy before, so why shouldn’t he come and save him unless he’s a complete ass?”

“Well, he kinda looks like Izaya,” Suzuya pointed out, and Twelve laughed.

“And acts like him, from what we saw. Just a little. He’s… a different kind of violent than Izaya. Izaya’s all about indirect violence. About internal violence. About violence in silence…” He paused. “Machine-gun-guy acts like he wants to shoot you to bits and pieces, but wouldn’t be able to handle himself if he actually did. But that’s just my assessment. I could be wrong – who’s to say?” Eyes narrowing, a sly smirk began to spread across his normally warm features. “Now, Suzuya, what you’re gonna do is go into that building over there and sneak up to at least a floor above where anyone else is; maybe the floor of. You don’t want to put these things too close to anybody. You just want them spread nicely in places where there aren’t people. Understand?”

Suzuya nodded. “But why?”

“These aren’t for hurting or killing people. These are just… alarm clocks, that’s all. When you’ve set them all, just wait a little bit. I’ll set a grenade off to trip the fire sprinklers. When I do that, I want you to set off your fire sprinklers too. If you want, I’ll give you a grenade, or you could get creative with it. What do you say?”

Suzuya seemed a little bit unsure.

“Hey, think of this as a good time – we get to blow stuff up for fun! Sure, it’s serious business, but from what I can tell, you know how to make serious business into something interesting. Right?”

“Ah.” Suzuya smiled lopsidedly at him. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“There we go!” Twelve nudged him, friendly. “Ready, then? So, do ya want a grenade?”

“Just in case.” The terrorist handed him one with an encouraging, crooked grin of his own.

“Alright. Shall we?”

The two split off, moving swiftly under the pressure of their plan. We’re flying, right? Twelve vaulted over a particularly large piece of upturned asphalt. Suzuya, I told you, didn’t I? That even with the single bent wing we each were given, we can learn to fly. His mouth twisted in shimmering curiosity as he looked to the sky. He spotted movement. Somewhere beyond the general ‘hide-and-seek area’ was a dark figure, bounding from rooftop to rooftop. “I wonder who that could be,” he remarked, and slipped inside the building that Shintaro had scrambled into a minute before. “We’re in for a fun time…”

He scurried over to the nearest stairwell, listening careful to the sounds echoing, or if there were any at all. Well, Shintaro’s somewhere up there, he thought happily, slipping up the steps and pausing at the next floor. Listened to the clicking of a door being shut. Headed up to the next floor. Looks like this is where I begin… Maybe one extra floor up to be safe. Jogging up to the fourth floor, he began pulling the other half of his baggie collection from his pockets. There’s no question that he was careful in opening and emptying each of the bags. Twelve was very methodical in his placement. Mathematical. Playful; prancing from one spot to the next with a fancy for fire.

Within fifteen minutes, he had finished his job. Sitting comfortably on a windowsill overlooking the street four stories below him, he rolled his grenade from one hand to the other, one hand to the other. Behind him, the twilight made the world look blue-grey. “I guess someone like Kuroha wouldn’t really expect this of me. I guess even Izaya wouldn’t really, either. More because they don’t want me to than anything. Because if I displease one or the other, I’m dead, right?” He closed his eyes. “It smells like winter here, even though it feels like summer or spring. It shouldn’t be both like that.”

His mouth twisted, opening again his darkening eyes as he gazed lovingly at his green-colored explosive. “Don’t underestimate me…”

All in all, he was satisfied with his work, as amateur as it was for someone such as himself. Twelve pulled the pin and tossed the hand grenade carelessly to the side. Leaning back pleasantly with his palms pressed to the sill, he listened to the first explosion rock the building.


Suzuya cocked his head to the side as he listened to the first explosion resounding mutedly from the building across the now-demolished street. “Guess I’m outta time. Whoops.” Giggling, he ripped open the rest of his bags and scattered them in the general area he was in on the third floor. That would work, right?

“Set off fire sprinklers; set off… fire sprinklers?” He paused, index finger to his lower lip. “Hmm…” He began to hum to himself, walking with a spring in his step back over to the stairwell, where he knocked heavily on the railing before jumping onto it and sliding down with his red slippers acting as his skateboard—perfect for sliding.

He jumped from the end of the railing and did the same for the next in the opposite direction. I wonder if there’s a furnace in the basement, he mused, humming his made-up tune and laughing a bit as he rode the railings.

The dark basement greeted him with warm arms. By warm arms, that is, he was able to find a furnace after all. His fingers wrapped tighter around the staff for his scythe, his mouth spreading further over his face. With new excitement, he ran back up the basement stairs and stopped at the top, the tips of his slippers hanging over the edge, as though longing to reenter the dark. “I wonder what happens if I blow this up,” he commented as he pulled the grenade from inside his messily-buttoned white shirt. Stabilizing his scythe with the crook of his arm, he pulled the pin and threw the explosive down the stairs, his wide eyes opening even further as he peered into the black with anticipation.

He heard it bouncing down the stairs; a metallic noise that clanged loud and clear just before the detonation began. The ignition fed on itself, beginning as one and then becoming two consecutive bangs, the second erupting into a louder and larger one than the first. Suzuya found himself blown backwards by the blast, a heat wave crashing over him and sending him tumbling backwards. He sat up with disheveled hair – well, more so than normal – with his red hair clips crooked in his bangs. He blinked. “That was awesome,” he said blankly, and it began to rain. He looked to the ceiling: the fire sprinklers had gone off. He heard the angry crackling of the fire below him. The floor beneath his hands was heated. He thought maybe the furnace didn’t like the water either.

Staring in interest at the sprinklers spritzing him with their water, he got back to his feet, his scythe held loosely at his side. So will that get everybody out? Is that really what we’re doing? He noticed dust falling from the ceiling. The walls were shivering in apprehension. “Those little guys must be reacting,” he said matter-of-factly, marching to the door.

A pained shout answered him, and he tilted his head blankly.

“Oh. Did I do that? Oops.” He distractedly picked at his lip. “Hum…” Curious, he began to wander towards the noise.


We always used to play hide-and-seek. It… It ’s was my favorite game, right? I’d play with C-ta, and I’d usually lose… It’s funny, isn’t it?

A-ya’s surroundings were so vivid and precise. He couldn’t have ever known this sharpness before, not in the dullness of his lonely logic. His world of grey.

Paint it red.

A-ya felt lightweight as a feather, his insides buzzing and writhing and swelling with something dark. His body was nothing but a suit, and he could feel himself slipping further inside of it, retreating without meaning to. He was moving in a lucid dream, his own footsteps slow but foreboding to even his own ears; if they were even his own ears.

Ah, you’re shutting down again, hah?

A-ya didn’t have an answer. He hadn’t meant to detach again.

I know you didn’t mean to or anything. It’s just ‘defense,’ right? I understand; sure I do.

Yes, perhaps it was defense, knowing what was happening next. Ah… what was happening next, exactly?

But what are you defending against, Loner? That’s my question.

Maybe a demon couldn’t understand…

There are no misunderstandings. I know you better than you know yourself, Loner. You’ve allowed me to become a part of you, understand? It’s like we’re one and the same.

A-ya vaguely wondered if maybe it was himself who didn’t understand.

Yeah, that’s right. So what are you defending, then? Yourself? You don’t need to, you know. After all, it’s not you who’s in danger, is it?

He found that he didn’t have an answer again. The serpent was right, he guessed.

Of course I’m right, Loner. You’ve killed two people so far, haven’t you? Oh, I see; I see… I understand now. It’s not defending yourself… no, not even from having to look at the blood on your hands. It’s not the blood that you so fear, is it, Loner? The carnage you have every ability to create? The tragedy you’re staging? No… You’ve wanted it all along, haven’t you?

Confusion permeated A-ya’s retreating consciousness. What was that?

You were bored with life, weren’t you? Something so dull as human life could never spark your intrigue, not quite. No, something like this is far more fun. Isn’t it?

No, that’s not it, A-ya thought, stirring within himself. Waking up.

Isn’t it? Even before you had me, how did you feel watching your precious fellow kill your other fool of a teammate? What was it that brought fear to your heart? Was it the killing performed? That you were targeted, yourself? Or was it that your friend had killed him without remorse?

I don’t know, really… It all happened pretty fast, and then…

And then the time came for you to kill your friend. Didn’t you enjoy that?

No, I—really didn’t, he answered. He felt his ribcage closing in on him at the memory. I didn’t like it at all. I—I didn’t mean to—

But didn’t you?

No, I—

Feel the scissors in your hands. Feel the injustice he brought you. Isn’t it true that you called him a demon?

C-ta is my friend; no matter what he might have done, that doesn’t the fact that I lo—

That you care for him, sure. But didn’t it feel good?

His scissors were in his hands, time slow and all sounds muted. Oh, the darkness that swallowed them. The red that colored them both. The sensation of sinking his blades into his neck. The tears streaming down from his warm green eyes. The words uttered from his withering lips: “You win.”

The emotions roared into focus, A-ya slipped back into his body and felt the overwhelming urge to vomit. Pleasant nausea squeezed his stomach. Ecstatic despair buzzed in his head. His vision swam, his feet unsteady. Where was he?

It didn’t, he protested. It didn’t feel good.

It’s not that you dislike the carnage. It’s not that you dislike the action.

That isn’t true…

It’s that you dislike the idea that you like it. Right, Loner?

No… That’s not—no, I…

Adrenaline drove his scissors into the satisfyingly fleshy blockage to his swing. Oh, the vividness of that moment! The clarity! The emotion! Nihilism and monotony were scrapped; he wanted to scream right now, he wanted to release all this raw energy, raw agony, raw and ever-so-beautiful enlightenment! Wasn’t it true that this shade of red had always been his and C-ta’s favorite?

That’s not—what happened…

Thrusting his hand into the insides of a god. The power coursing through him, the electricity he pulsed right on through. The gratification of experiencing dominance over someone who should surely be a superior being.

Is that really…?

The sickeningly sweet cracking of Roy Mustang’s bones. The horrifically beautiful way his eyes glazed over into milky white.

In accordance to his lonely logic, it wasn’t like any of them would last long anyway, right?

In accordance to his nihilism, their lives were worthless and expendable just like everyone else’s, right?

I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I didn’t want to kill anyone.

Then why did you accept me?

I… just want to go back to the beginning, that’s all.

Hah… you all do.

They stopped walking, sharing space in the vessel that was his dark-clad body. There’s breathing, they thought, a smile crossing their features. They turned to the door that stood at their side, stepping up primly and knocking in all politeness. Without waiting for an answer, they opened the door and walked inside. “You’re not very good at hiding,” they said, beginning to close the door behind them. Someone tried to pounce on them, waiting behind the door to strike. The possessed one jumped into the air, putting their catch in fine perspective. The oddball teen of Group 1: the one with orange hair, his pointed teeth showing as he scowled at the dark-clad hero. “Found you,” they grinned, and came down on Shirazu only for the partial ghoul to dodge swiftly away.

“I get it, y’know,” Shirazu said to the dark boy as he rose from his crouching position on the floor of his hiding room. “You were just some kid in the beginning, right? You’re totally not that person now… right? Konoha came back, and that’s real cool…” He swallowed, and the monochrome one tilted his head. “…but Kuroha never died either, did he?”

Very good, brat,” said the serpent. A-ya smiled.

“So, you’re the guy that offed Delic in the very beginning, huh?” Shirazu’s brow was furrowed. Sweat ran down his cheek. “You’re the guy that offed Psyche. Y’know… you killed half my group. That’s not cool.”

Do you want me to apologize?” he sneered.

“Nah…” He licked his lips. “I know what you’re doing, y’know. I… I get it, now. It’s a little late, but I get it. What you’re… doing…”

You’re repeating yourself,” they informed him dully, and he lowered his stance, his mandarin eyes narrowing and focusing.

A frown was drawn into his now-serious visage. “Yeah, maybe. Ya just want us all alone, dontchya? Well…” He smirked. “I guess it’s smart. But isn’t that kinda cowardly, splitting up a group of four? Is it that you’re all alone, or are ya real scared of us? We really did a number on your old body, huh, Snakey?” He released a bark of laughter, and A-ya’s eyes narrowed.

Be careful what you say.

“Why? You’ll try to kill me either way!”

A flash of crimson electricity struck where Shirazu had been moments before, but now the CCG officer was charging towards the possessed one, unscathed. A-ya lifted his arms, prepared to block his attack, but he only soared over him and to the door.

“What, ya think you’ll win, just like that? Just ‘cause ya found me doesn’t mean you win – ya gotta tag me first, asshole!”

Anger swelling, A-ya clicked his tongue and ran after him, static connecting the floor and ceiling of the corridor in an occasional flicker of violent intent expressed through lightning.

“Oi! Oi!” Shirazu barked ever louder, his feet pounding on the floor beneath him. “Mado-san! Shirou! Shit, man, it was a TRAP!” His voice rose steadily in volume as he ran for his life. If they don’t come, I’ll need some kind of opening to hurt this guy. C’mon, c’mon…

As if on cue, something erupted beneath them, distracting the possessed one momentarily while Shirazu immediately thought – That’s perfect! Turning on the pad of his foot, he spun back around and punched A-ya square in the gut, catching him off-guard.

Brat,” he spat, grabbing onto his arm as the fire sprinklers activated.

A-ya swung him around and slammed Shirazu into the wall, but the partial ghoul bounced back without a problem. The building itself began to quake and crumble, further aggravating the dark-clad hero. As the upper floors flared up due to the makeshift explosives set by Suzuya, Shirazu released his messily-aimed kagune, shooting projectiles every which way and adding to the confusion. As dust clouded the hallway, Shirazu knew that he had to make the ‘fight or flight’ decision, and quick. His thoughts were razor-sharp. I know I can’t beat him alone. I know that he’s faster than me. Now’s my best chance to break for it. It’s all I can do. If he catches me, I’ll fight with all I got.

Through the haze, he bolted away as fast as his legs could carry him.

Fool.

Shirazu was fast, there was no doubt – even the dark-clad hero had to put some effort into catching up. Into catching him, even, as A-ya threw his weight onto Shirazu’s shoulders and slammed him to the ground with his force. The partial ghoul had far more fight in him than the humans Psyche or Delic. But though it took longer than they would have liked, Shirazu’s persistence couldn’t save him, and neither could his idiotic teammates who’d left him behind. Like everyone had left each other behind. Comical. This game of hide-and-seek was drawing to a close.

I win,” he smiled eerily, and that was that.


Twelve at last slid from the window sill he’d perched himself upon, a smile touching his lips. He cupped his hands around his mouth, his tone jeering. “Evacuate immediately, everybody! A terrorist attack is at hand! Oh no~” He laughed a bit as he walked.

A shadow fell over him without warning, a sharp pain spreading from his abdomen. Frozen, Twelve discovered a hand in his gut and a ghoulish face smiling a Cheshire grin at him, pale face inches away from his own. Twelve didn’t know what to say, unable to give his assailant anything besides a bewildered, “—Huh?”

Boo,” grinned the half-ghoul, grabbing at Twelve’s orange t-shirt and yanking him forward, driving his hand further into his insides. It was Seidou Takizawa, his eyes wide and shining with a manic spark. Twelve began to choke, something thick rising in his throat.

“Um… Hey!” he greeted with only a trace of nervousness. He was awfully calm though his look of distress suggested that the hand in his gut rather hurt. As Seidou pulled at his intestines and tore open his abdominal cavity, the look quickly distorted itself into a full-on grimace.

“Don’t think I didn’t see you throwing together this fiery trap,” uttered Seidou.

“I don’t—deny that…”

“I started wandering, see. I got lost. I heard the demon. I heard him; that’s right. And I followed the sound, because I know the bad, bad, ba-a-ad things he can do. Don’t know about you. But you just tried.”

“Well, actually—”

Don’t interrupt me,” Seidou snapped, spitting acid. He shook the terrorist, whipping his head back and making him wince at the force put into the shaking. “I’ve changed it up; I know it too… You’re wrong, though. All of you are wrong. Little shits think I’ve gotta—listen to their—their verdict. But—let’s play, ah… Play Cops and Robbers! I—I’m not a robber. You’re the robber.”

“Actually, I’m a terrorist, which is a little bit—”

“SHUT UP.” Seidou twitched, shuddering over something that Twelve couldn’t perceive. Twelve clamped his mouth shut. For now. “That guy was wrong. I wonder… Hehe. You, I’ve got news for you. I don’t know your name; I don’t care what it is. But I’m gonna show you all that I can be—I will be… a hero, and all the fuckers who tried to say—they don’t exist, or that I can’t be because I’m not enough, I’m NEVER ENOUGH, well GUESS WHAT, YOU SHITS?!

Twelve was trapped in silent observation of this hysteria. Seidou had broken down into titters.

I’m gonna be the hero. Understand? LOOK AT THIS! Am I such a loser now? HUH?

The half-ghoul finally dropped him, and the terrorist collapsed to his knees, his guts spilling out in front of him against his will. It’s like a spring trap, he thought in interest. “Well, this is kind of unfortunate…” Grimacing a bit with Seidou’s shrieking laughter ringing through the halls and in his head, Twelve looked up at the wraith, his brow furrowed and smile beginning to form on his mouth. “Ah… well… Just as well. I knew I didn’t have long.”

“Seems you’ve become acquainted with death already,” Seidou grinned. “That makes it easier for you.”

“Yeah, death’s made my company,” Twelve agreed soberly. Casually. “He has a voice of deepest violet. Sometimes transparent. Sometimes deep grey edging on black. Very ominous and hollow, but somehow it just doesn’t faze me anymore.” He sighed lightly. “What about you? Sanity’s parted company from you, I guess. I don’t blame you or anything. I’ve never once been acquainted with it, myself.” He bowed his head, and Seidou peered at him in interest, his tongue clicking bitterly against the soft palette of his mouth.

“Is anyone sane in this place?”

Noting the acidity to his tone, Twelve tilted his head. “Maybe not.” Pausing, he looked down at his insides. “You know, it’s pretty scary. This doesn’t even hurt. Kinda cool, kinda creepy. Now it just feels real surreal.”

“I don’t like you talking,” Seidou informed him flatly.

“Then kill me,” Twelve shrugged. “As long as I’m conscious, I’ll keep blabbing. But hey, I don’t mind you killing me if you get to be a hero, you know? That sounds like a pretty good deal.”

“Shut up,” he hissed suspiciously, licking absently at Twelve’s blood on his hand.

“Whose hero will you be?”

“Why are you asking?” Seidou growled, his bloody teeth bared.

“I’m only curious.” Twelve eyed the half-ghoul’s stance, his foot sliding forward in preparation to make a sudden move. Maybe to decapitate him; maybe to rip his intestines right out of him and slurp them up like noodles—oo, that was a gruesome thought. Maybe that’s what happens when you see your insides? I dunno, I must have some sort of natural anesthetic going on, because I can’t feel a thing. “How will I explain this to Suzuya, huh?” he uttered. He was dimly aware that he might be saying something stupid, but with a little bit of introspection, he found that he just didn’t care. “I guess I can’t visit with Shintaro after all.”

“Suzuya? Shintaro?” Seidou repeated, rooted in place.

“Yeah, Suzuya’s in my group. And Shintaro; I kinda met the guy once. Last time I saw him I was trying to get him out of a situation where he could’ve ended up really dead in the crossfire… with Izaya and Suzuya involved and all… The fiery thing I set up was supposed to be designed to help him out, but I might’ve made him freak instead. He’s pretty jumpy,” he snickered.

Seidou was hunched forward, his fingers pressed to his teeth. “Whatdoyoumean.”

“What do…? Well, I dunno. What do you mean?”

“I… I…”

“Sorry, bud, but maybe you caught the wrong villain?” The thought struck him suddenly, and the terrorist couldn’t help but laugh.

Seidou was shaking his head in increasing vigorousness. “Nonono, that’s not right; you’re the robber, not me, not—you’re lying. You’re LYING.” In an outburst of rage, he shattered the window with his fist. Twelve tried to stop the laughter bubbling from him, but only succeeded when Seidou grasped his throat, yanking him up into the air with his feet and his entrails dangling beneath him. The terrorist brought his hands weakly to his own neck, and Seidou snapped his head back and forth, jerking him around in appalling outrage that bloomed like black dahlias or red spider lilies or falling icicles or smoky eyes peering into his soul or into his abdominal cavity – it was all the same now, wasn’t it? Twelve could no longer make out what Seidou was saying. He thought to himself distantly that this person’s voice was so very inconsistent. He was only dimly aware that he was being moved to the window. He felt a very heavy sensation. Solid. His vision returned in ebony flooring and crimson walls, no—shaking his head he saw that the floor was still white, the walls were still beige. Seidou had tossed him distractedly to the side, perched on the windowsill with his eyes fixed somewhere below them. Blinking slowly, Twelve began to perceive frantic flutters of red, erratic and confused as they danced through the air. He knew someone was talking beneath them, but understood not what they said. He looked at the scattered shattered glass around. Watched the world fracture with them as Seidou staggered backwards.

“I—can’t—”

His colors were crawling with black roots. Twelve watched Seidou angrily leave him there. He noted that his own entrails were still strewn out in front of him amongst the broken glass and their broken minds and their broken hearts.

“But…,” Twelve said, his coherence fading, “…whose hero was he trying to be?”

 

Chapter 69: Into the Night

Chapter Text

 

Izaya pulled Shintaro by the wrist as the upstairs erupted with sound. “There is so much I want explained to me right now!” cried Shintaro, struggling to keep up but having to keep up anyhow because he was kind of being dragged. His lungs and legs were screaming in protest. Something told him that Izaya was an expert at running away. “Where are we even going?” Opening a sliding door, leading to the outside, Izaya pushed Shintaro out onto the balcony. “Wha—? You know this is the second story, right? Who is that floaty girl following us, huh? And didn’t you say that it was Twelve who did this? Is he okay? What is going on?

I want answers too,” frowned Hanyuu disapprovingly, crossing her arms in protest.

“Wait, wait, blood?” Shintaro looked at the balcony; at the red drops on the ground around him. He looked up to a shattered window two floors up and swore he saw a familiar face quickly turn away, pale in the darkness of the falling night. “Ah—wait, was that—?”

“I want to try something, Shintaro-kun,” said Izaya, stepping towards him on the balcony.

“O-oh yeah? Well you didn’t answer a single thing of what I just asked you, you know—”

“Just trust me,” said Izaya, stepping closer.

 “Okay, but—” And Izaya shoved Shintaro to the railing and sent the NEET toppling backwards and over the ledge. The jerseyed boy took in a huge gasp – he tried to grab for Izaya, the railing, something, but to no avail. He saw the floating girl – Hanyuu? – with her hands to her mouth.  The broken window high above him was dark and empty. As he felt himself falling, time moving in a crawl, he wondered idly if this was how Ayano felt when she jumped.

He thought he saw Izaya smile in satisfaction. Well—I probably shouldn’t have trusted him. But as Shintaro closed his eyes, he felt a jerking sensation as a cold body rushed into him, gripping him firmly. His eyes flew open to see that Konoha was holding him midair. They landed on ground without problem. “Konoha!” he exclaimed, and his android friend gave him a gentle smile.

When the albino set him down on the street, he looked wildly around for who should definitely be with him: Roppi. Maybe even Kaneki! But had his eyes lied to him; was Seidou somewhere above? He felt weak with his relief and apprehension coming together.

He was right in thinking that Roppi would be waiting to greet his eyes, because there he was, glaring daggers at the balcony where Izaya had apparently already disappeared. “What the fuck?” Roppi hissed. “What a jackass!”

“Ah…” A boy with brown hair swept back on his scalp scratched at his cheek sheepishly. “Shintaro, are you alright?”

“Ah— Shinichi?” the NEET asked blankly. He pictured him catching Roppi in the air as he fell from the building their group had stayed in on the very first night. He remembered his kind voice amongst the otherwise cold group he’d come from. Was he the only one left, now? “I remember you – thanks again, but um, why are you…?” He pointed confusedly from the partial parasite to the bitter Roppi, confusion swarming his comprehensive abilities.

“A lot happened,” Konoha explained.

“Yeah, stories are for later,” Roppi said bluntly. He jerked his thumb to the direction of the torn-up street. “Kaneki’s out with Hide and Rin to try and find Shirazu and Akira and the rest.”

“I’d like to join them as soon as possible,” added Shinichi, and Shintaro nodded hazily. So much was happening at once—he was a little bit overwhelmed. Only a little. Really.

“Um… Is Seidou with you too?”

Roppi’s eyes were boring into him; Shintaro shrunk and wilted under his gaze. Something told him he was wrong. “No. Why?”

“Is he around?” inquired Konoha.

“I-I don’t know. I thought—well, never mind.”

“Perhaps we should wonder about that after everyone is out of the immediate danger they could be in,” said Shinichi, and Roppi grudgingly agreed.

“Let’s go,” nodded Konoha, and Shintaro was pulled along once again.

“Wait.” The NEET tried to tug back at the android, somehow stop him, but his own weak self was nowhere near capable of stopping an android with inhuman strength. “Wait—wait!” he tried again, and they all slowed, looking at him in perplexity. “Konoha, wait, you can’t go in there. You can’t confront this kid – you might—well, the person in there… What I’m trying to say is that – I don’t know – it’s possible that—that you might get possessed again.”

Konoha blinked at him, vague concern touching his face.

“I kinda figured they were involved, all things considered,” Roppi sighed harshly.

“Um?”

“Konoha can stay back with you and Roppi,” Shinichi suggested to Shintaro, and Roppi frowned at him. “I can go in and make sure your other group members are out of the buildings. From there, we can run.”

“No way – I’m going in to help,” frowned Roppi.

“Maybe it is best to stay back this time,” said the android quietly, and Roppi scowled, festering silently.

“Er, I mean…,” began Shintaro, but Shinichi only smiled at him.

“It’ll be alright. Kaneki and Rin are strong, and Hide is very smart. We’ll evacuate everyone as quickly as possible.”

“O…okay,” Shintaro said weakly, and he, Roppi, and Konoha watched him go. “Oh, guys.”

“Yeah, what is it?” asked Roppi distractedly, while Konoha gave a, “Hmm?”

“Just…” He slumped. “I’m so insanely glad to have you back. I need to say that.”

Roppi brought a sleeve to his mouth to hide his ever-so-slight smile. “Save the cheesy reunions for after we’re out of this mess, okay?”

Shintaro laughed weakly. “Okay.”


When Shirou and Akira heard Shirazu’s shouting, Shirou immediately whispered a ‘Trace on’ as Akira got to her feet abruptly. They hid in a small, dark room on the first floor. “Akira,” he frowned to her, his voice low, “you’re injured. You shouldn’t be walking.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she answered, her jaw set. Without a word, she took off her heeled shoes and gripped her quinque handle firmly in her fist. “I’m not losing my teammates in this battle. I understand that the goal of the enemy is to separate us, and that’s exactly what I let him do. We’re going to save Shirazu right now. There is no question. After we secure his safety, we’ll go to Shintaro as quickly as possible.”

“But you shouldn’t—” His argument was cut off by a banging sound. Their heads whipped in the direction of the door, which was shaking on its hinges as somebody continued to bang on it. Shirou immediately tried to step in front of Akira, but she refused. The wood splintered as their seeker smashed their way through, revealing themselves as not a threat but a friend. Kaneki’s eyes widened in relief as he saw Akira and Shirou waiting for him.

“Are you both okay?” the half-ghoul asked urgently, running towards them.

“We’re fine,” said Akira curtly, while Shirou cried out, “Her leg’s hurt!” She frowned at him.

“We’ll tend to that as soon as we can,” Kaneki said with a nod.

“Yo, you find somebody?” called another voice, and Akira blinked in surprise.

“Any luck?” added a female voice that made Shirou go rigid.

“Tohsaka-chan?” he murmured, and Rin and Hide both poked their heads in to see the results.

Emiya-kun?” she exclaimed in awestruck confusion, and he ran to her.

“Tohsaka-chan, I’m so glad you’re alright! Are you hurt at all? Ah, what happened to your arm?”

She jerked her arm away from him. “It’s fine,” she snipped, and put her hands on her hips. “Since when are you here? I cannot believe…!”

“I was so worried knowing that you were involved too, you know!”

Hide, in the meantime, approached Akira with warmth and curiosity. “Yo, Mado-san! You’re looking great!”

“Ah, Nagachika-kun… It’s good to see you,” she bowed her head, then looked to Kaneki. “Kaneki, Shirazu is a floor above us. Something’s happened – we need to go to him as soon as possible.”

Kaneki nodded his head shortly. “Shirou, take Hide, Akira, and Rin back out.”

“I want to join you,” Akira told him seriously.

“You’re injured; you shouldn’t fight straightaway.”

“Ah, wait,” said Shirou, raising his hand. They looked at him. “I don’t think you should go alone, either, Kaneki.”

“I’ll be fine,” he began, but as he spoke the ceiling began to fracture. Fear spread through him like cold tendrils.

“Everyone, out!” snapped Akira as Kaneki scooped her up and got them both out of the way of the collapsing ceiling, the dark-clad hero descending from the floor above.

Without hesitation, Shirou jumped in to fight, A-ya dodging to the side and smiling as the redhead sliced at his ebony cape. The possessed one stepped towards Kaneki whilst dancing around Shirou’s attacks. “You’re the only one left,” he spoke ominously, and the look on the half-ghoul’s face made A-ya’s expression contort in joy. “Ah, what a King of Tragedy you are! It tastes—so—good!

Kaneki had already let Akira back down, his face hidden behind his hands. “How could you…” His kagune was unfurling like knobby, scaled fingers from his back. Shirou joined him at his side, a short sword in either hand. Rin had her injured arm outstretched in preparation to shoot curses in the direction of this eerie boy. Akira had her chimaera quinque at the ready, her whip facing the enemy. Hide waited behind them all, observing in apprehension, his mind searching for something he could do to help.

It really is too bad,” said the demon, tilting his head. “For there to be five of you now; very unfortunate. Definitely not what we wanted, was it? Too bad.” He laughed a bit before lighting the room with the rising voltage of his power. He attempted to rush straight through the group only to collide with Shirou Emiya, his red lightning clashing with the boy’s teal electricity. “Get out of my way,” they hissed, trying to knock him from his path only for Shirou to retaliate, now with Kaneki at his side. This is undesirable, they thought, and backed up as Akira joined in the attack and red static spheres of hatred flew at them from Rin. Clicking his tongue, A-ya feigned a right, then bolted left and shot straight into the wall, breaking through easily and opening up his fighting area. Having managed to make it around to their backs, the possessed one considered going after the blond human hanging behind them all. Before they could make their split decision, the partial parasite Shinichi Izumi charged through the hallways and slid on the floor, skidding to halt as the four fighting A-ya beforehand poured back out of the room, ready to attack. Shinichi had faltered upon full sight of the enemy. He’d not expected this familiar face.

“Ah…” Shinichi began to deflate, his eyes filled with distant pain. “Is that you, then, A-ya?”

A smile crossed the boy’s tormented face. His mind flickered with memories of their alliance, back before… before…

“Ah, Shin…ichi… Looks like a fresher wound than it should be – your arm, that is. How have you fared without your little parasite? I—I mean, it—sure has been awhile, Shinichi.” He began to laugh, his mirth distorted. Corrupt.

“A-ya…”

Rin hesitated under Shinichi’s recognition of this guy. Shirou paused, and Kaneki followed suit.

A-ya only continued to laugh, and laugh, and laugh. Without another word, he fled the scene, leaving the six of them behind. Silence filled the spaces between them all. No one had anything to say. It wasn’t until Kaneki murmured Shirazu’s name that everyone came to. The half-ghoul immediately left them, jumping through the hole in the ceiling where A-ya had arrived. “Get everyone outside,” he called to them distractedly, and they all began to stir.

“I hope everything turns out,” said Hide, rubbing at his head. “Though it sounds like it didn’t end well.”

“Maybe we should head out for now, Rin,” Shirou uttered, sounding as though his thoughts were far from them all.

Shinichi, watching the way Akira stared fixedly at where Kaneki had disappeared, approached her, offering his hand. “Do you want to join him? We can meet the other three outside.”

She stared at him silently, her eyes flat, lips parted slightly as she tried to put together all of her thoughts. She couldn’t seem to come up with the right words to answer him. Perhaps she hadn’t even quite processed his offer at all.

“I’m Shinichi Izumi, by the way. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Lowering his hand, he bowed to her.

“Akira Mado. I… Yes, I’d like to see him.”

“I can help with that,” Shinichi smiled. Shirou, Rin, and Hide all nodded to them to let them know they understood. They began heading out, and Shinichi picked up the CCG officer as best and safe as he could with his single arm, jumping up into the hole and taking her to where Kaneki, Shirazu—and Suzuya were waiting for her. Shirazu lay between the two standing, and Suzuya and Kaneki faced one another, both unsure of whether the other was an enemy or not.

Akira signaled to Shinichi that she wanted to walk, and he put her down gently.

“Mado?” Suzuya asked blankly, tilting his head at Akira. She opened her mouth and closed it, silent. “You look kinda different. It’s your hair, I think.”

How strange. How surreal, to see him from the past, too. “We have a little bit of a time gap, Suzuya,” she smiled at him, and he blinked.

“Time… gap?”

“Yes.”

“So this person is not a threat, then?” asked Kaneki softly.

“No. And Suzuya, this person is fine too,” she assured the other officer. The scythe was hesitantly lowered. Kaneki’s kagune was cautiously dissipated into nothing.

“I’m pretty sure that this guy’s a ghoul,” said Suzuya slowly. “You do know that, right?”

“I do,” confirmed Akira. “Please trust me. It’s complicated.”

“And you,” said Shinichi tentatively to Suzuya, taking a step towards him. “Is it that you’re working with A-ya?”

“Uhh…” He took a step back. “I don’t work for anybody. I don’t gotta. I work for myself.” His eyes flickered to Akira. “For now… I, gotta go.” Turning, he began to run away. He looked back only to grin at Akira and say, “Don’t worry, I won’t go after you, Mado! I’m not gonna hurt you, ‘kay? Bye, now!” With a wave, he jumped down a flight of stairs and disappeared from sight, his childish laughter becoming distant as it faded away.

Now that Suzuya was gone, Kaneki at last looked to Shirazu, lying on the linoleum floor beneath them. His blood pooled around him, his eyes hazy, appendages crooked on all four sides. He was smiling lopsidedly, his sharpened teeth showing. Kaneki knelt beside him, and Akira joined him, expression solemn. A breathy laugh escaped the fallen one, his position shifting slightly as he turned to look at the two kneeling beside him. Shinichi remained respectfully apart from them.

“Kane-kun… ya made it back, after all.”

Kaneki put his hands on Shirazu’s torn chest, his face shrouded. “Don’t speak. We’ll get you the medical bag; it’ll be fine.”

“We won’t leave you here,” Akira added, her assurance firm but kind. She gently put a hand to his chest, and he smiled weakly.

“I’m just glad. I was… a little scared, all alone, you know? I don’t want to be… alone.”

“I’m sorry for leaving you all,” Kaneki whispered hoarsely.

“Kane-kun…”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I’m so sorry… I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

Glassy mandarin eyes looked, lost, to the tears that were spilling from Kaneki and onto his marred chest. “It’s okay; you don’t need to be—sorry or nothin’… I’m just glad you made it back. I—hey… Uh, Mado—shit, Akira, my sister… would you take care of…? And my teammates back home; I…”

“I will.” Akira was composed, her jaw tight.

“You can tend to them when you make it home,” said Kaneki. “You can see them again. You will see them again.”

“You have—no idea how much you’ve done for me, Kane-kun… Sassan.” He began to smile, his own eyes leaking and spilling down the sides of his face, one trail tripping to the floor softly. “Could ya kick Roppi in the face for me? Or maybe Seidou? I never got to. Ah, both of you…”

“You’re going to be okay, Shirazu,” Kaneki told him desperately. “You don’t need to say anything like that, okay?”

“It’s not like I… wanted to die, you know? But…”

“Stop that, you’re going to make it!”

“Thank you.”

“Shirazu—” Kaneki turned quickly to look at Shinichi. “Find Shintaro and get the medical bag immediately! We need medical attention for him as soon as possible!”

“Kaneki,” Akira spoke softly, putting a hand on the half-ghoul’s shoulder. Shirazu’s eyes had closed. Shinichi wasn’t moving, just gazing at Kaneki with that distant look he tended to have.

“Shinichi, you need to go now! If you don’t hurry, he’ll—”

“He’s dead,” Shinichi said flatly.

Kaneki’s words stuck in his throat. Choking up, he clutched at the fabric of Shirazu’s jacket. Both his and Akira’s head were bowed. A shadow settled over the two of them. They knelt there in silence, only the sound of Kaneki’s choked weeping audible. Another had passed into the night.


A-ya met up with Suzuya and Izaya apart from the uniting groups nearby. Suzuya was as odd as ever, and Izaya was just as sharp. A-ya was hazy; he felt like he didn’t fit right into his body anymore. Upon Izaya’s offhanded remark that Twelve was missing, A-ya immediately answered, “I will go find him.” Without any further discussion he left them. They looked at one another. Suzuya was suspicious about Izaya’s furrowed brow, but the informant only shrugged. He wasn’t going to tell that kid that A-ya might be going off to kill Twelve if he was too terribly injured.

And A-ya did find him that way, half-sitting as he leaned with his side to the wall and his entrails spread messily around on the slippery linoleum. The terrorist’s blood was scattered and smeared about, and his warm eyes were glassy, reflecting the still-blazing conflagration that he had created. A-ya stepped up to him with hazy eyes of his own. “You know,” he said, “you look a lot like someone I know.” His voice was so quiet; it almost didn’t make it through the fog of Twelve’s consciousness – especially with the sounds of crackling heat around them. It did, though, and he looked with some coherence to the fourteen-year-old. “His name was C-ta.” Unable to bring himself to speak, Twelve only smiled at him. A-ya looked to the ground, scattered with blood and glass. His expression was distant, perhaps sad. “I guess you’d have to be an older version of him, though. Hah, Twelve, you’re—so helpless…”

Twelve didn’t question the tears that spilled, or the way he hid his face in his hands and tried to shove all the feelings back inside. He didn’t question when A-ya wiped at his eyes and began shakily picking up Twelve’s insides and handing them over to the terrorist, as if he’d know what to do with them. “We’ll see if we can do anything,” A-ya said quietly, once the full length of Twelve’s intestines had been gathered. The terrorist blinked as A-ya carefully tried to lift him up, cradling the nameless nineteen-year-old in his comparatively tiny fourteen-year-old arms. “I’m jumping now,” he warned him, and from there he leapt down into the dark and back to the group that awaited them.


Seidou Takizawa listened to the hushed voices rising from the city square far below him, sitting with his back to the railing bordering the rooftop that he’d sought refuge upon. His eyes were closed. He didn’t want to see anything. There was only sound. He heard little welcomes and soft expressions of praise or of gratitude. Her voice, distant and cold. Maybe distracted, the apparition at his side corrected. Maybe masking pain. His voice, insensitive and whiny. Fatigued, his apparition added. Regretful.

There was Roppi’s voice, too, as dull and irritable as ever. Something was wrong – why was it that he sounded so much different than he remembered?

I hate them, he thought. Why aren’t I…?

How could he have possibly thought in the beginning of this stupid game that he could become a leader? How could he possibly think that any of them could think he was anything but a loser? Even now, they were looking down on him. Even the loser Shintaro thought of him as ‘loser.’

“I’ll always be a failure,” uttered his apparition, and Seidou’s lips parted in disgust.

You’ll always be a failure,” he answered. “Me, I, I’m a success. Exactly—what they wanted.”

“Isn’t that’s what’s failing them now?”

Seidou didn’t answer, the ends of his fingers pressing into the tops of his eyelids. Jealousy’s thorns pierced him, though he did not recognize them as they were. In response to their consequent wounds, he thought again: I hate them.

The news of Shirazu’s death was a statement so heavy that it almost didn’t reach Seidou, not at his vantage point. The sounds of their communion quieted. He silenced them entirely with his hands to his ears.

“I think ya should say you’re sorry ‘n stuff,” Shirazu suggested wearily. “Properly, to Shintaro. He’s your teammate, y’know?”

“Not anymore.”

“I wanna look too,” Shirazu said stiffly, running to him in the morgue. “I wanna remember ‘em, like you said. I shouldn’t not look because I don’t wanna. No, I mean… like, that’s exactly why I should look, you know? ‘Cause they deserve it.”

He did not open his eyes. He did not uncover his ears. “What does it matter?” Seidou echoed Roppi. “They’re already dead. You’re already dead.”

“Seidou—man, is that you?”

“No, it’s really not.” He released his ears to silence and pulled his dark hood over his head. “I’m—a reaper, hehe…” Burying his head in his knees, he grew silent. So did his apparition.

So did Shirazu. Seidou supposed he’d never speak again.

 

Chapter 70: Answer

Notes:

Happy belated Halloween, dear readers! I hope you enjoy.

Chapter Text

 

It was an awkward emergence when at last Yato opened the bedroom door and approached the living space, where the group that had taken him in awaited. He did not speak. He did not look directly at anyone. He just stood quietly at the end of the hall, his arms crossed over his marred chest. He’d already put on both his shirt and jacket, his black jersey zipped all the way up. Akise gave him a crooked smile and a nod of acknowledgement, though Yato’s only response was to avert his gaze further. Celty was rather subdued, tugging on her collar occasionally in expression of her discomfort. Minene spared Yato only a glance and a tch. Yukiteru, who was playing with the armadillo Kincho along with Celty, blinked at Yato and flashed him a nervous grin without much to say besides, “Er, I’m glad you’re up, uh, Yato.”

Speaking to him apparently had adverse effects: he looked ready to draw back and return to the bedroom, beginning to turn and walk away when Rika approached him with a tray of glasses. “I’ve made some tea, that’s so. Would you like some, Yato?”

He blinked bemusedly at her.

She beamed up at him with a closed-eye smile. He didn’t understand, but the only other thing she offered him was a, “Nii?” and a tilt of her head.

“Uh, sure,” he muttered quietly, taking one of the glasses. He warily watched her bring the tray over to the others, just as cheery towards her teammates as she was to him. He was well aware of the fact that she was the one who’d revealed a goddess to him, albeit a flimsy one. It was true that Rika felt slightly different than a regular human in regards to souls. For all he knew, that young goddess of hers was watching him now, transparent and hidden from his eyes.

Yato wasn’t all too sure that he could trust Rika’s warm countenance. After all, he’d killed the man with the dark, messy hair and the casual attire – judging by the way Rika had protected his gravely wounded body, it was a given that she cared for that person. It was also a given that Yato had killed him, so there was absolutely no reason for Rika to like him. In fact, he’d given her and a lot of the others here some pretty good reasons to hate him.

Why, exactly, had they taken him in?

Sighing, Yato looked to the glass in his hand. Now that no one was paying him any mind again, he cautiously took a sip. He drew back in rather pleasant surprise. It’s pretty good, at least. Lowering the glass a bit, he gazed at the torn wall where he’d thrown Izaya the last time he’d settled in this building. At the ruptured floor that he’d destroyed out of grief-stricken fury for the loss of Yukine – the floor which now the cloaked boy and the dark rider were using as the armadillo’s playground. Apparently the thing could do tricks.

Yato’s mouth twitched. He didn’t like the atmosphere, and he didn’t like this structure. It was too uncomfortably familiar, and all of the feelings tied to it weren’t exactly pleasant.

Wordlessly, he slipped past Akise as he headed to the kitchen area beyond the living space everyone was gathered in. Their already-subdued conversation dropped, and he was relieved to find a door in the kitchen that led to a back porch. He stepped quietly outside, slid the door shut again, and took a deep breath. It was very quiet. Before him was an expanse of open grassland. It seemed to go on forever and ever, especially in the darkness of early night. If what Izaya had said on day one of the game was true, there was a barrier blocking him from that barren freedom. He took note of a pile of amassed debris that he figured he’d created, now awkwardly placed and discarded here in the backyard, probably by someone in this group. Yato remembered the tantrum in only a hazy recollection. It felt like so long ago. Strange, wasn’t it? He’d lived for centuries, and yet a time where Yukine could be at his side seemed like so, so long ago.

He drew his lips into a thin line, subconsciously bringing his hand to his chest. That hurts, he thought. A pause. Then, That blue-haired girl really left her mark, that’s for sure. Carefully, he set down his tea glass before sitting on the edge of the porch, one leg curled in front of him with the other dangling off the edge. He leaned back on one of his palms, his thoughts distant. It sure is a good thing this group decided to treat my wounds. Otherwise, I may not have made it.

He listened to the sliding door slowly open and close behind him, and he returned to the present with some annoyance. Closing his eyes, he took a sip of his tea with his ears pricked, on guard. He listened to a quiet voice mumbling, “Um, pardon me.”

Yato looked at the cloaked boy Yukiteru with narrowed blue eyes. He set his glass back down.

“May I, uh, join you?”

Yato turned his gaze away to stare into the dark. “Why shouldn’t you?” he asked him dully. “I’m the guest, not you.”

“Ah…” With much nervousness, Yukiteru sat at his left, his knees tight together with his bare feet hanging over the porch ledge and swinging in idle animation. “I don’t think it’s really about that, you know? Because… I thought, maybe you just wanted to be alone.”

Yato gave a noncommittal grunt.

This didn’t help Yukiteru in the least. “Well, it’s okay to want to be alone. I like that too, sometimes. A lot of times, actually. Um, like, especially in my own room, with a big blanket wrapped around me, nice and cozy…” He swallowed. Yato gave no indication that he was paying him any mind. “I, um… I did come out here for a reason, though.” He began restlessly rubbing at his forearm. “I—well… See, I, I know that… you’ve done some bad things.”

Yato looked at him with cold eyes, and Yukiteru faltered before giving him an honest, if nervous, grin.

“But—you’re still w-welcome here. Because people can make mistakes, and… I mean, you’re not the only one here that’s done some bad things. I mean, Minene-san is a terrorist, see, and she’s killed lots of people. I still don’t know how to feel about that, really, but—but I mean, there’s a friend of mine in this game right now who might be killing other players—who’s making some bad choices, too. And this person, I figure—well, I know that he is actually a very good person who is hurting; that’s all. And if he deserves to be saved… If he deserves forgiveness, then—well, you’ve got to, too! Because even if I don’t know you, I should give you that chance—because everyone deserves that chance. I wanted to let you know that, because I think it’s important—for you to know that you’re welcome here.” He furrowed his brow, lapsing into silence and rethinking his words. And rethinking them. And rethinking them again.

“Is that friend of yours the serpent demon’s new vessel?” Yato’s tone was empty. Yukiteru’s eyes flickered to him only to find that the god was looking somewhere far away.

“Yeah… That’s him. His name, um, his name is A-ya.” He paused. “He… I hope he’s okay, right now. Well—I kinda figure that he’s not okay right now; of course he’s not. He’s possessed by some creepy snake that—that’s killed lots of people in this game already. Like Migi, which I’m—actually kinda sad about. Makes me wonder about Shinichi, but I’m sure he’s fine—and Ciel, you know, he’s only twelve, or something…” He was becoming increasingly restless.

“A little British boy with an eyepatch over his right eye?”

“Um, yeah.”

“Oh.”

Yukiteru observed that Yato was gripping the edge of the porch rather tightly despite his icy expression. No, now he actually looked rather scary. “Well, maybe I’m rambling too much about things to you. I…”

“That kid’s dead.”

The words rung as a low, resounding gong might. Yukiteru felt his insides reverberating. “Oh. Well… That, well, that’s okay. It’ll be okay. Because that—it’s okay. That’s okay.”

Yato loosened his grip on the wood beneath him, listening to Yukiteru fumble and go around in circles.

“I’m not really sure how you know that—I hope you didn’t—well, actually, that wouldn’t matter anyway, would it? Ah, no it wouldn’t, would it? No, not at all!”

Yato wasn’t sure what to make of the way Yukiteru wrestled with this issue. Was he trying so hard to appear friendly, or was he trying to convince himself of his own words? Maybe both? Ah, well.

“No, it wouldn’t, because either way, I guess Ciel just… didn’t make it, huh? That’s too bad. Not everyone will; that’s the way the game works, right? Yeah. Even that’s okay, because either way, he’s dead, right? Can’t worry too much about it at that point! It’s not like I can change what’s already happened!” Yato turned to look at him, and Yukiteru smiled back. “I like to believe in the good in people, you know? Because I know it’s there somewhere. And—even if I can’t change what’s already happened, I can change what will happen. I can make the future if I want to. You can too, you know.” Yato blinked, frowning a bit, but Yukiteru only turned to gaze out into the sea of grass. “So, I know that even if I don’t see him tonight – A-ya, that is – I know we’ll both be alright. It’ll be alright.” Smiling, he paused. “It’ll be alright,” he repeated.

Yato gazed at him in speculation. This boy – fourteen years old, right? Fourteen years of age, at the precipice of choice. It was the beginning of the most volatile point in a human’s life, where they had to start down the path of light or the path of darkness. It was such a pivotal time; such a dangerous time. Yato knew all too well how it could be, knowing that Yukine had been at that point himself, trapped at that volatile age for the rest of time. Yato brought a hand to his chest again subconsciously. He pushed away the thought.

Yukiteru – what a name! – was at that point too, huh? Which path would he take? It looked as though this kid was trying very hard to deny the things he didn’t want to see. Optimism is wonderful until it becomes blinding. Yukiteru had a haziness about his bright blue eyes. It was as though a film covered them, a protection mechanism for his comprehension. A filter. He was walking the line between light and dark even as Yato pondered Yukiteru’s place. Yukiteru likely didn’t know his own place, either. Yato watched his profile as his eyes darkened, like they were reflecting an oncoming storm. A smile still gently curved his soft mouth, contrasting with the increasing distance in his eyes. He was on the brink of breaking something or another within himself. Yato almost wanted to call it madness threatening to cloud his young mind. Turning back to the expanse before him, Yato wondered idly whether anyone else had noticed.

“Hey, Yato,” said Yukiteru. The god didn’t turn. Neither did the boy. “You’re a god, right?”

Yato furrowed his brow. “Yes. I’m a god.”

“You said you were a delivery god, right?”

He lowered his gaze. “Well—”

“Can I make a wish?” the boy asked brightly, his expression lighting up.

“Well,” Yato frowned deeply, “as I was about to say—”

“It’s only one thing; promise.”

Yato stared back into the hopeful young eyes of this kid. They were, perhaps, a little bit too desperate. Thinning his lips, Yato asked him, “What is it?”

He began playing with his fingers, his gaze nervously flicking around. “These thoughts of mine; all of my feelings for A-ya, well—if you’re a delivery god, could you deliver these thoughts to him? Could you do that? Or…?”

“I can’t send thoughts, or anything like that.”

“Ah.” He brought his knees to his chest. “That’s fine. I’ll see him in the future, so… at that time, I’ll…”

“I, ah…” Yato touched his chin, his eyes narrowing.

“Hm?”

“I could instead, grant a similar wish. You wish to be at his side, don’t you?”

Though Yukiteru couldn’t make out Yato’s eyes beneath the shroud of his deep violet bangs, he was still encouraged by these words. “I, yes, I do.”

“Alright. Do you have an offering?”

“A—what?” Yukiteru began to panic, patting down his dark cloak only to find that he had not a penny to his name. He let out a wail of despair, and the door slammed open.

“Yukki! What’s the matter?!” snapped Minene, immediately on his case.

“Yukki,” Yato repeated under his breath.

Yukiteru had stiffened. “Mi-Mi-Minene, hi! Uh, I was just t-talking to Yato about—uh, we were having a chat about stuff and I wanted to, uh—but I don’t have an offering for him, and—”

“Jeez, kid, you sure are loud,” Minene grumbled, her single eye narrowed in obvious disapproval. Celty poked her helmet out to investigate the situation, and moments later, Kincho followed, perched on her shoulder.

“Uh, sorry.” Yukiteru rubbed uncomfortably at his arm. Yato was immobile, still staring out beyond the barrier.

“You shouldn’t make such distressed noises,” the terrorist scoffed, rolling her eye. “You could be dying or something. The new guy’s supposed to be one of them beefed-up power players, you know.” Celty raised her arms to her as if to say, ‘Don’t say that; he’s right there!’

“Don’t be rude to the guest!” piped up Rika, hopping into the doorway. “Yato was once a friend, that is so.”

“Right.” Minene frowned a bit as Akise’s footsteps softly approached them all. The group in its entirety had gathered. “If anybody’s got some change, it’s Akise.”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Yato flatly, getting to his feet. “Yukiteru, your wish has been heard loud and clear.” Yukki blinked at him as the god smiled at him. “May your fates be verily intertwined.”

“R-really?” Yukiteru’s bright blue eyes practically shimmered.

“What—I don’t even want to know.” Minene shook her head and turned around while Celty shrugged in answer to her and Kincho grunted in curiosity. Rika and Akise only smiled.


A-ya’s fingers tingled and buzzed. It was a feeling that was not unlike numbness. His skin was nothing but another encasement. His cape was pulled around himself like a shroud. He’d brought Twelve down to the others and immediately explained to them that they were getting away from this area as quickly as everyone could. Twelve had managed to kind of sling his arm around A-ya’s shoulders, smiling lopsidedly at how comical it was for the small A-ya to be carrying the nineteen-year-old Twelve. The terrorist’s eyes continued to shine, though that may have just been the glassiness of them. Suzuya seemed rather curious about the predicament, though also unsurprised. Izaya was ready to question, but A-ya quickly cut him off. The three of them ran in silence.

They skirted the tower and stopped at the northern end of the shopping area. A-ya didn’t hesitate to burst through the front doors of the first building he saw, not waiting for the others as he laid Twelve on the glossy linoleum. “There’s surely something for you here,” he uttered, his tone low and tense even though it did sound like he was attempting reassurance.

Izaya and Suzuya caught up, entering the doors as A-ya ran for the bandages. Suzuya cocked his head at A-ya, picking at his ear. “Hm.” The CCG officer approached Twelve while Izaya watched, deadpan. “That’s happened to me before, too,” he commented. “Real inconvenient.” As he knelt beside the terrorist under the spotlight of one of the emergency lights glowing even without the bright fluorescents activated, he pulled a spool of red thread out of his messily-buttoned shirt, along with a silver needle. “It was like, you know, I wanted to see inside somebody else, and then I saw inside of me, instead.”

Twelve blinked at him slowly.

“So, Twelve… Does it hurt?”

The terrorist couldn’t answer him, so he just accepted Suzuya’s guidance as he helped him sit up, cutting away at the fabric of his shirt. Watched hazily as he took him, all inside-out, and put him right-side-in again. A-ya, gauze held loosely at his side, watched Suzuya patch Twelve back up. Izaya didn’t look, his red-brown gaze kept strictly to the dark window. His expression was of stone.

After Twelve was put back together and Suzuya tied off the string in a knot he knew would stay, the terrorist just kind of sat there on the floor of the shop he had now dirtied with his blood, his eyes still far-off. Suzuya remained crouched at his side, his eyes wide as they always were. He stared at Twelve as though waiting for him to speak. By now A-ya was sitting on a black swivel chair just beside them, sitting backwards on it with his arms folded over the top of the back of the chair. His head was buried in his arms as he waited for an answer.

Shuddering, Twelve eventually found his voice. “Didn’t think… they… would, fit back… in, actually.”

Suzuya laughed at him. “But they were in you before, weren’t they?”

“Guess so.” Twelve smiled weakly.

A-ya had lifted his head, watching them wearily, his brow still furrowed.

Twelve’s eyes drooped. “Dark world.”

“So, did it hurt?” asked Suzuya, leaning closer.

“Not really,” he admitted. He shivered, bringing one arm around himself. “Feels… like hot coals, nestled in…side of me. But I’m so cold…” He began to laugh faintly. “I wonder… Izaya, hey. Is this, what the end of the world feels like?”

Izaya didn’t respond, his eyes narrowing just slightly as he continued to gaze out of the window and away from the others.

“End of the world?” Suzuya repeated.

Twelve watched Suzuya’s red flicker with his voice, and his eyes drooped again. “I heard someone with a voice of pale yellow. It’s such a rare color… I think… it was that old vessel, actually. I bet he has…” He trailed off.

“…Has what?” asked A-ya. He didn’t want Twelve to stop talking, not now that he’d started.

“I like your voice better than the demon’s, really,” Twelve said, distracted. He was sitting on a thin layer of snow, the sun shining too bright through the ceiling—ah, wait, that was the light. Wasn’t it nighttime now? “Strange… I remember a time where… where everything was black, white, and grey. I can’t remember even what the food tasted like. That’s what existence alone is… Existence alone; that’s what monochrome means. Living, that’s better. To have… something like, ‘love.’” Smiling slightly, Twelve began to relax. He allowed himself to lie back down on the linoleum, his bare back on its cool surface. He could make snow angels. Blood angels. What had Suzuya said about angels falling to earth?

“Are you living now?” asked Suzuya.

“I think so,” Twelve answered, watching Suzuya’s crimson smear over his sight like paint. “I really think so. There’s too much color.”

“Will you be alright?” asked A-ya quietly.

His voice flickered scarlet in Twelve’s corneas. He began to laugh. “After my little scheme gone wrong, you’re asking me that? You’d think it’d be more like, ‘why did you do that?’ Well, anyway…” He closed his eyes, sinking into an icy ocean. The hot coals in his gut were all that kept him sure of his consciousness. “I am feeling… really very feeble. So tired. Wanna nap.” Opening his eyes, the world tilted on its axis and spun out of orbit as he tried to sit back up again. And with that, he fell right back into the snow. He knew it wasn’t snow. Dimly, he saw Suzuya peering at him. He felt his heart fluttering and straining in his chest. “I’m underwater,” he commented. “Crazy. There’s really no point trying to help me now. You know, seeing that none of us care about one another.” A wry smile curved his pale lips.

“You’re a teammate,” Suzuya said matter-of-factly, his tone disconnected.

“You’ll be okay,” A-ya added firmly. “You just need to rest. That’s all.”

That breathy laugh again. This hole in my chest, this hole in my gut – my hollowed-out and re-stuffed torso; it’s proof of life. “Beautiful. Look; harmony.” His eyelids shut once again; he was dipping himself back into the darkness. No, it doesn’t hurt. It just feels… He felt a shroud cover him. …uncertain. “I wonder what the world will look like when I wake up.”

“I can assure you,” uttered A-ya, “that it will look exactly the same.” With that, he returned silently to his swivel chair after having blanketed Twelve with his ebony cape. Suzuya watched him silently. The only sound was of Twelve’s uneven breathing, which began to gradually grow steady, if a bit shallower than it should be. Upon sitting backwards on the swivel chair again, A-ya once more wrapped his arms around the back and rested his chin there, his eyes shadowed.

The CCG officer glanced over to Izaya, who still had made no move to speak or act. Looking back to A-ya, he asked, “What now?”

“We let him rest,” answered the dark-clad hero. “We rest for the night. We wait.”

“Oh,” Suzuya answered, settling himself there on the floor. The familiar scent of iron permeated their hideaway. The gaps between the four of them were filled with silence.


The discussion between the reunited and newly allied groups was short and unreal.

“Oh, God, Kaneki, I’m so happy to see you; you have no idea.” Shintaro.

“Thank you, Shinichi, for showing up to help when you did.” Akira.

“Man, Shirou was your name, right? You were really awesome back there!” Hide.

“Honestly, I’m just pissed you got involved in that shit show in the first place.” Roppi.

“Konoha, thank you for catching Shintaro-kun… I don’t know that I’d have made it.” Shinichi. “Everyone did well.”

“Right, but where’s Shirazu?”

At Shintaro’s inquiry, the conversation came suddenly into focus. The pockets of light conversation, guarded and fake, went silent.

Roppi immediately looked to Kaneki, his eyes pressing for answers. He was too afraid to reiterate the inquiry with his mouth.

“Shirazu, well…” Kaneki averted his eyes, distress clear in their distance. Idly, he touched his chin. “W…we should begin heading away from here. It isn’t good to remain here.”

Kaneki,” Roppi said, his tone evidence of his urgency.

“Why ask me again when you surely know the answer?” The half-ghoul’s voice was quiet, his eyes shrouded. “Do you want to hear aloud the dreaded ‘Nevermore’?”

Roppi stared at him in horror.

“No way,” uttered Shintaro, tugging uncomfortably at his black V-neck. He looked at Akira, who solemnly shook her head.

“Shirazu died in battle,” she confirmed, and everyone was quiet.

“Sh…shouldn’t we at least… bury him?” Shintaro asked, but he was met with the negative.

“I think, perhaps, that it would be better to leave him as he is, at rest,” Kaneki responded, and Shintaro drew his lips into a thin line. Nodded. He couldn’t speak anymore.

Behind Kaneki, Akira, and Shinichi, the building they’d been in erupted in a sudden outburst of flaming fury, the windows of the lower floors shattering as the furnace in the basement exploded. Gradually, the building began to fall apart. The fire reached into the blackened firmament with arms of bright conflagration.

“It’s alright,” said Shinichi. “He will be buried.”

No one had an answer. Eventually, Rin suggested that maybe they should follow Kaneki’s directive and head out before anything else bad happened. No one had an argument for it, and so they left.


Yukiteru was showing Yato the tricks that Kincho could perform when they were approached by Akise. Apparently he and Celty thought it best that they rest. Night was falling. It was at this time, too, that Minene was approached by Rika. The younger took the terrorist outside without explanation, speaking to her in vague cute-sounds like she often did. Having worked with Rika since day one of even the female games, Minene complied easily. Besides, the kid looked like she had something pretty important to talk about. Seriously – last time she had that face she’d let Minene know that A-ya was fucking possessed, so you’d come to trust that she’d try to warn about anything bad if she could. She was a really insightful kid; Minene had to at least grant her that.

It was just the two of them out here. Once they couldn’t hear Yukki or Akise talking anymore, Minene crossed her arms over her chest. “Alright, kid,” she frowned, “are ya gonna tell me what this is about?”

“Tell me about Akise,” she answered simply, hands clasped behind her back. She looked up at the terrorist with those old eyes of hers, currently quite piercing. She was being serious.

Minene was almost concerned. Rika didn’t usually make such a direct demand of inquiry. Well, keyword is almost. Minene was Minene. She didn’t get concerned about anyone but herself. Usually. And besides, Rika was a tough kid.

“Akise’s a good kid, I guess,” Minene began, rubbing at the back of her head. “Kinda weird, but I’ve worked with him a few times in my realm. It’s funny because… y’know, I’ve mentioned to you that I’m in a death game either way.” Rika was nodding patiently. “He wasn’t a part of it or anything, but he started getting involved somehow anyway. Really curious, I guess. I think he’s following what he thinks is justice? I dunno; I can’t believe in that stuff anymore. But…” Frowning, Minene sat cross-legged on the grass. “I feel like this is gonna be a long conversation. Let’s sit down.”

“Okay,” Rika agreed, kneeling neatly on the ground in front of her.

“Yeah, so this kid—I like this kid, I guess you could say,” she continued. “Akise’s strange, but he’s incredibly reasonable. Almost abnormally reasonable. He wants to be a detective, I guess? He’s been working with the police for some time, apparently. Loves playing that detective game, and I hear he’s pretty good at it. I don’t mind working with him. Like I said: he’s reasonable. Even if I hate somebody, he’d probably be able to convince me not to kill them if there were a good enough reason not to. Being thrown into this battle royal, I can’t say I’m surprised that he wants to unite with as many people as possible. If he says that it will help end the game, then I’d have to believe him. He’s usually only slightly off the mark, if not right on it. He’s really laid-back, too, so he’s not annoying or anything.” She rolled her shoulders in a shrug. “I dunno… If he gets a theory, then I’d give his words some thought.”

Rika nodded again, thinking on this with her tiny hand to her chin. “What do you think about what happened with the items contraption?”

“Eh? The items thing?”

After Yukiteru had approached the pillar and obtained his unneeded machine gun, he suggested that Akise give it a go. After Yukki had stepped down and Akise had approached the module, however, something a tad odd happened. The pillar activated, sure, but the hologram never reappeared. What’s more, the touch screen showed up purple, its display occasionally glitching and trembling in his presence. The screen was otherwise blank. Akise had shrugged it off as a mistake, and they had gone on their way. He didn’t seem to have any more of a clue than anyone else, so they let it go right with him.

“To be honest, I have no idea what that was about,” Minene admitted. “But really, I don’t think he knows either. I think that if anyone can break this game, it’s him. Could be a sign that he’s the only one outside the realm of the game masters’ influence. Ya think?”

“I’m not sure,” Rika answered quietly, her violet eyes far-off.

Minene watched her young face for some time before sighing and leaning back casually on the heels of her palms. With Rika that deep in thought, she didn’t want to disturb her right away. Instead, the terrorist directed her one-eyed gaze to the starry sky. A smirk curved her mouth. To think, she was hanging out with a ten-year-old. How out of the ordinary was that?

Yukki must have been so thrown off, having the rough terrorist bring in the little Rika behind her. Minene was a bit surprised, herself. It had all happened by odd circumstance. When first they met, it was in battle. And yet this kid had managed to stop all violent advances between Minene’s group and her own. She’d even stopped Minene herself from just bombing the hell out of this bothersome kid that no one had the guts to kill. But the way she held her arms outspread, her eyes filled with desperation as she cried out for everyone to stop… Minene began to envision a small girl with violet hair, crying in the ruins of a war-ridden society. Indeed, she’d seen her younger self in Rika. Not that she’d ever tell her that.

It wasn’t until later on in the game that Minene really began to see what this kid was about. In fact, it wasn’t until that point that she really, truly wanted to make sure she stayed safe.

There were only four of them left in their two combined groups by that point: Maka and Nora were the only others besides themselves. After Minene had lost the rest of her group to Celty’s group, ironically enough (not that she was upset – on the contrary, she was relieved), she really expected Rika to be more upset than she ended up being. No, instead, Rika was being so annoyingly optimistic that eventually Minene just had to blow up on her.

The sun had already set, and the forest was dark. Maka was perched atop one of the trees, on watch for intruders. Nora was at her back, keeping an eye on the opposing side. Every so often, her jaded eyes would flick down to the two below her – Minene and Rika, that is.

“Even if Tamura and Minatsuki have died, we should not give up, that is so,” Rika had said matter-of-factly, and Minene huffed at her, standing up and turning away from her.

“You haven’t learned shit, have you, kid?” the terrorist asked gruffly.

“Nii?”

“This isn’t something you can take so lightly, alright?” She turned back around to glare down at the ten-year-old, who was innocently tilting her head to the side in question. “This is only easy for you because people keep protecting your ass, understand?”

“I understand,” Rika confirmed quietly.

“At some point, it’s gonna be every man for themselves, so if you wanna survive, kid, you gotta be willing to fight!” She threw her hands into the air in frustration. “Don’t you get it? It’s kill or be killed, here! Until you get that through your little head, you won’t be able to make it! Understand?

Rika hesitated, thinking on this. “I think…” She bowed her head, voice lowering. “…that it’s you who misunderstand, Minene.”

The terrorist blinked her single eye, mildly surprised. She’d never heard Rika use this voice before. Then her eye narrowed, and she leaned in, challenging. “Oh yeah?”

“I know that people will die in this game. That is their fate. For Lust to die, or Tamura… I already knew they wouldn’t make it from the beginning. Minatsuki couldn’t either. I realize that people are dying to protect me, but it’s not as if I asked them to. I’d rather they didn’t. I’d like to make it to the end of this game with you, Minene, but if you continue to act like this game is us against each other, it won’t turn out that way. The truth of this game has evaded most of us. This isn’t a death battle at all; that’s what the puppeteers want us to think. That’s just for fun. The real enemy is the ones running the game. For you to say this place is kill or be killed… aren’t you falling prey to the very mentality that they want you to?” At this question, her small mouth curled upward in an ironic smile.

Minene, conversely, began to scowl. Who did she think she was?

“I know I’m very good at being a kid,” Rika continued mildly, the smile evaporating. She began toying with the orange-handled knife she’d been given at the very beginning, twirling it in her fingers and performing clever little knife tricks. “…But really, that’s far from the truth. At this point, I know there isn’t any need to keep up some sort of persona. Not in a place like this. Why should I, when I don’t have friends around anymore that may be frightened or put in danger? I’m ‘ten years old,’ right? I shouldn’t be this desensitized from something so final as ‘death.’ I should be sad. I really should. It’s not that I don’t care, and it’s not that I don’t get it… I’m just busy trying to solve the puzzle, instead, knowing that death is inevitable. ‘Willing to fight,’ right, Minene? I am. But not unnecessarily.” She paused, then smiled at the terrorist from her spot amongst the roots of a tree. “That’s all.”

Minene frowned at her, absorbing everything she’d said. Cautiously, she sat back down beside the younger one. “You’ve got a home to get back to, don’t you?”

“I do,” Rika confirmed. “Some good friends are waiting for me there.”

“Any parents?”

Rika paused. “No, no parents… that is so.”

Looking into the starry sky above, Minene recalled losing her own parents at eight years of age. At that time, what was it that she wanted?

“Don’t worry about it, Rika,” Minene said eventually, clapping the child on the back. “We’ll make it to the end of this together.”

“When this game ends, it will not be over,” Rika warned her ominously, but Minene only scoffed.

“From here on, I’m after the game masters. I’ll see to it you make it, got it? We’re gonna show them who’s boss! Alright?”

Rika stared blankly at her for a few seconds before smiling a closed-eye smile, returning to her usual childish self. “Alright!”

Minene wasn’t all too sure she knew how many nights ago that was, now. She didn’t feel the need to count. Numbers didn’t mean anything when you’re in a situation like this. You just keep going until you’ve made it out the other end.

She and Rika watched as, above them, two fireworks shot up into the air, one bursting pink, the other silver.

“Do you really think that Akise may be the only one outside the influence of the puppeteers?” asked Rika in the present, and Minene shrugged again. “Or could it be that he is unknowingly being used as their ambassador – as a direct link to them?”

Minene furrowed her brow, giving Rika a perplexed look. “I don’t think so. I’ve worked with Akise in my world, too, remember.”

“Could that, too, be fabricated?” A pause. “It may be a stretch, but I’m trying to think of every possibility,” she admitted.

“Yeah, okay,” the terrorist conceded.

“We don’t know the origins of the game masters themselves. We don’t know what power they possess, but when you say you and Yukiteru had the knowledge of the future in your hands and neither of you foresaw this game, what does that entail? They could easily make up somebody like Akise.”

“I mean, I guess you’re right—but why?

“Do you really think that the game master would make such a mistake as to bring someone into the game on accident? The items contraption doesn’t work for him. He did not appear around anyone, and he does not technically belong to any specific group.”

“Well, what if, like… you know, you’re saying there’s more than one game master, right?”

“Yes,” Rika confirmed.

“Well, who says they all agree with one another? Maybe one of them brought in Akise to spite the others, or something…” Minene paused, frowning. “…Because honestly, Akise is somebody that’s gonna break the game, not play into it. That or the game will be the end of him, ya know? He’s the kind of guy that I’ve heard can mess with the future even though he doesn’t have it in his hands, I guess you could say.”

“Someone who can break fate,” Rika murmured, gazing somewhere far-off.

“Yeah,” agreed Minene. “Like that.”

“I see. Akise shouldn’t be here, that is so.”

“Eh?” She looked at the ten-year-old only to find that she was smiling.

“Thank you very much, Minene. I will keep this in mind!” Beaming childishly at her, Minene sighed and ruffled her hair.

“Happy to help, I guess,” she grumbled, and Rika giggled happily in response.


Nora sat alone in the dark of the cabin hidden amongst the trees of the eastern forest. The pink circle marked the spot on the floor where Kaneki, Shirazu, Psyche, and Delic had all first entered the game—where Bishamon, Hiyori, Yuno, and B-ko had first began. Now it was a quiet place, abandoned and dark. A single ray of silver moonlight ran across the wooden floor. A scrap of paper lay discarded on the floor in the shadows of a bare table: it read Psyche Orihara. Nora figured it used to indicate the ownership of some weapon that had lain on that table, but as far as she was concerned, it was now just a scrap of paper and nothing more.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep, contented breath and released it slowly. It was quiet here. In this peace, she’d been compiling in her mind all that needed to be taken care of. As far as enemies went, there was certainly Izaya. Consequently, she and Yato would be targeting the ones he was working with. She thought of the demon’s vessel and began to smile. She envisioned A-ya’s red eyes, and the way they flickered and shone. She could tell easily the difference of temperature between the boy and the demon. The demon had eyes of ice, that was sure – but the boy; he had pools of scarlet for his irises.

“His eyes are so very pretty,” Nora murmured, bringing her hands to her face and opening her own eyes. “It really is too bad that he’s allowed a demon to eat away his insides. If only he could harness that, instead. Hm.”

She thought of Yato. He was surely awake by this time. She hoped so. Thinking of the group she’d left him to, she envisioned the beautiful anomaly named Rika. She vaguely wondered how she was faring, but decided she had no reason to muse over a human like her. But it is true that she’s tied to a god. I wonder how long that goddess has remained at her side. I wonder how close they are. Whether they understand each other. Whether they’re like a family. Something heated blossomed in her chest, and she smiled again.

I’ve decided that I don’t like her after all. She wrapped one arm around her knees, using the other to rub gently at her eye, stained with blood that had seeped from a laceration on her forehead. It wasn’t a new wound.

Yato’s ailments should have been treated by that group. He needed to get better. She wanted that. She knew it was necessary. She also knew that they may try to convince Yato that Celty wasn’t the one who killed Hiyori, but at this point in time, did that really matter anymore? He’d already started back on the path he belonged on; right where she wanted him. That bothersome Hiyori had softened him, but now Yato had already attacked every group in-game at least once. Maka was dead. The purple, flamboyant one was dead. The intelligent man with the tired eyes was dead. That blue-haired girl who knew too much was dead. All by their hand. All by Yato’s hand. Surely he knew that there was no going back now. There never had been any turning back, as much as he tried to. And that was the truth.

Smiling contentedly, Nora got to her feet and brushed herself off. “I know Yato will make the right choice,” she said quietly, and walked forward on sandals that clacked against the floor, wood on wood. She went to the window, looking out into the forest as far as she could through the dark. He will recover with that group. He will latch onto them, use them to get better.

And then, before long, I will see him again.

 

Chapter 71: To Know

Chapter Text

 

It wasn’t until early morning that Izaya spoke. The first rays of dawn were seeping through the windows, and he couldn’t stand lying still there any longer in that dreadful quiet. “A-ya-kun,” he began, “what, exactly, are you thinking?”

A-ya lifted his head from his arms, his eyes weary. He hadn’t slept well either, it seemed. He never even removed himself from the chair. Suzuya shifted on the floor, rolling over to look at the informant. Izaya wasn’t surprised to know that the others (excluding Twelve) were awake as he was.

“What do you really expect to do now that Twelve is in this state?” Slowly, Izaya sat up. “For someone who’s made a deal with a demon – who needs to ‘thin out’ the players – the move that you’ve just made doesn’t really suit you!” Izaya’s mouth twisted, his eyes shadowed. “Why keep Twelve alive now? He’s survived being disemboweled, which is wonderful, sure – but he’s right: he’s lost a lot of blood, and there’s no way we can perform a transfusion here. I want you tell me right now, A-ya-kun. Do you really intend to keep Twelve alive, knowing this?”

A-ya stared at him for some time. Suzuya’s gaze had moved to the dark-clad boy. Eventually, A-ya answered steadily: “I do.”

Izaya’s smile waned, then dropped. “Then I suggest we grab some iron supplements; anything we can find. Fruits and vegetables; nuts and dairy products. Meat. He’ll need as much as he can get once he wakes up, I can assure you.”

A-ya blinked at him, vaguely surprised. It wasn’t what he expected from Izaya, really, but on these words, he got to his feet. He felt admittedly strange without his cape. “Alright then. Izaya, you can get the vegetables and meat. How’s that?”

Izaya smiled thinly. “My pleasure.”

“I can get dairies and fruits, yeah?” suggested Suzuya, raising his hand.

A-ya nodded. “I’ll find iron supplements and nuts. Twelve can choose what he wants when he gets up.”

“We also need water,” Izaya added.

“Of course,” A-ya agreed. “Should—we keep someone near Twelve, actually?”

Izaya shrugged, nonchalant. “Probably.”

Nodding distractedly, he corrected, “Suzuya, stay with Twelve, instead. Izaya and I will split and gather things that he needs. If you want, you can try to find things that are in this store, but I don’t want you leaving the building unless there is an imminent threat.”

Suzuya blinked his wide eyes. “Oh, okay.” The CCG officer watched the informant and the dark-clad boy leave the store with flat affect. He contemplated what sorts of things he might find in this store – maybe some of the supple-somethings. After they were gone and the glass doors closed behind them, the silence fell like snow. He looked idly to the sleeping Twelve, his breathing slightly shallow but otherwise even. The terrorist didn’t exactly look healthy despite his easy rest, and the first rays of morning pouring through the glass made him shine, his skin pallid.

Suzuya tilted his head, eyes narrowing in introspection. Mado was in this game, huh? She looked older. Takizawa, too, but he sure had changed. The albino thought back on his encounter with the orange-haired boy that had been taken down in hide-and-seek. He claimed that he was a CCG officer, too. Suzuya had to believe him, at least a little. After all, this boy had called him by his name.

The fallen carrot-head had squinted at him, confounded at first glance. “Ah… Suzuya? Suzuya, is that you?”

After Suzuya gave him a bewildered confirmation, the injured had laughed, breathless.

“I bet you’re younger than I know, huh? You’ve got white hair ‘n stuff; totally weird. I’m Shirazu, by the way. You don’t meet me for a while yet. By the time I met you, you were a special class investigator. Can you believe that?”

Suzuya had tilted his head at him. “A special class investigator?” he repeated. He really didn’t know what to make of that. He’d never gone through the academy, and he wasn’t exactly “warmly accepted” by the whole of CCG, by any means—if there was even such a thing as “warm acceptance.” If there was, he’d never seen it.

“Yeah… A special class.” Shirazu smiled weakly. “You’re pretty awesome. Why am I talking about this right now? I don’t really know, but I’ve heard so many stories about how you used to be—such an underdog, y’know? And that was me, I guess. So, I just wanted to say… like, you’re gonna make it. You’re gonna go far. I wanna say it now ‘cause—I don’t think I’ll get the chance otherwise. You’re really amazing: the leader who never leaves a teammate behind. I respect ya… That’s all.”

Suzuya really didn’t know what to make of that. What was there to make of it? Was it truth, a lie? It was soon after that when Kaneki arrived. Suzuya recognized him from a few past events, but was unsure of whether he was supposed to kill him. Apparently Mado was on his side, though, so it was okay.

Now Suzuya was still trying to piece together that carrot-head’s words. To call him a leader? A leader who never leaves a teammate behind, at that. Well, think, he thought to himself. What was it A-ya had said?

Does it sound like a lie, or a truth? Pausing, Suzuya got to his feet. “It sounds like a truth, I guess,” he commented thoughtfully. “But I dunno how to believe him.” He stared down at the ashen visage of Twelve at rest. Gently, he put his hand to the resting one’s forehead, brushing back the bangs plastered there. He was warm. Suzuya didn’t know what to make of this. “You’ll be up soon. Sleep well.” Turning on his heel, he skipped off through the shopping isles. “Iron supple-somethings, here I come!”

In a building just down the street, A-ya stood with a bag of pistachios in one hand and a bag of cashews in the other, deeply contemplating which would be the best thing to bring back for Twelve. With a shrug he came to the conclusion that he’d just bring both back. As he shifted the packages to one arm, he took pause as he coughed. Looking into his palm to find droplets of deep red, he wiped distractedly at his mouth and continued on his search for fruit, disregarding the evidence for his injury.

Loner, pay mind to your physical well-being, thought the demon sourly. Surely you’ve noticed the deal dealt you by that annoying orange one.

I really didn’t, actually, A-ya admitted. I don’t feel it at all.

That’s very inconvenient.

Yeah, well…

How did the action feel, by the way? he inquired, regaining that tone of cold amusement. After all, I let you do the job, Loner. That kill was all yours.

Why ask? You know how I feel, don’t you? Before Saeru could answer, A-ya added, Actually, I’d like to just have a conversation with you. Can we do that?

The demon was silent for a moment. What do you mean? he asked eventually.

I have a question for you.

Yes? His tone had lowered; A-ya felt the demon’s annoyance churning inside himself. He could imagine the tail of a serpent waving back and forth in impatience.

I love urban legends, Saeru. I love the occult. I’ve gone over that with you, as strange as it is in this situation. But if I didn’t, I wouldn’t have said yes to that deal of yours. You know that.

Your point?

What’s your legend, Saeru? I have you dwelling inside me, using my body as a vessel… You know, the whole package. So, exactly who is it inside me? What’s the story of the Clearing Eyes Snake?

At first only silence met his mental inquiry, though A-ya was unfazed by it. The dark-clad boy only continued gathering fruits – he figured berries were good, right? Strawberries, blueberries, blackberries? He grabbed them all, wondering vaguely why they were still somehow fresh despite probably being out in the open since day one of the games.

Eventually, the serpent answered him. Why do you feel the need to know?

I told you I wanted to get to know you. I’m curious. Humans are curious creatures.

A-ya heard his laughter echoing in his head. Right you are, Loner. What surprises me more is that you still persist in learning more about me even now.

He shrugged. I don’t know what to tell you. You’re a demon, not a human. You’ve got different values anyway, so it’s not like any of what concerns me matters to you. I already knew that. I told you that I enjoy the occult, that I enjoy urban legends. What’s happened in this game hasn’t changed that.

Chuckling with that icy mirth, Saeru answered, Alright, then, Loner… I’ve been around for centuries, you know.

Start from the beginning. I want to know where you come from.

A-ya got the sense that he had, perhaps, stroked the demon’s pride just a little in asking him about himself. He almost found it funny. My origins lie with my first master, you see. Have you heard the stories of a monster called ‘medusa’?

I have.

She is the one true Medusa – from my realm, in any case. Born at the beginning of time, she wandered the earth for a long, long while. This Medusa, this monster… My, she was a funny one! I’d been with her for as long as I… well, I had been with her for longer, far longer than she seemed to realize. I would speak, of course, but my words were incapable of finding purchase in her thoughts. Oh, for an eternity I waited for her – my master. All that time right within her, but she never did seem to notice me. No, that’s right. I couldn’t tell you how long it was I spent there, alone, anticipating the moment she would hear me for the first time…

My, it was a lovely thing, when she met me in the dark. In a pleasant, warm dream. Neither she nor I were alone. No, it did not last long, but it was the beginning. At last she had produced desire: a wish. An outlandish thing it was indeed, that! Imagine, this monster had fallen in love with a human! It was a path bound for tragedy – it was of utmost importance that I intervene, of course. So, I gave her the solution to her problems. Together, we two would create an eternal world where time did not pass and she could keep her family together without fear of their inevitable deaths. Humans are so dreadfully mortal. Not my master, though. Not her.

Oh, dear, just thinking of it now fills me with such sweet mirth! How much she had changed over all those years! What an idiot His tone dropped off into bitter amusement. A-ya found it intriguing that his manner of speaking shifted quite noticeably as he got deeper into his tale. From that point on, though, I could speak, if only in the realm of dreams. My realm. My world. I convinced her that her family would live better without her, and she left them for that eternal dream we’d made together. From then on, it was only her and us, the snakes. None of them thought. None of them had real ambition or consciousness. I was different. My, how I mocked her after the decision was made. Now we’d be trapped there forever, and it was all her fault!

She always watched the ‘real world,’ though, ironically. As if the world she’d created wasn’t exactly what she’d wished for. Admittedly, I was also dissatisfied… I could speak to her whenever I liked, now, but what was the point when she was so consumed by her despair? Fool that she was, she allowed herself to fall in love, and that tore her apart. Now we belonged in unreality, where nothing was tangible.

Well, it wasn’t until centuries more passed and her daughter and granddaughter reached their death sentence that she made a move, drawing their cadavers into our endless dream out of desperation. Another desire was born; she had another wish for me, and of course I was ever so willing to oblige to my little master! It was impossible to revive them both… but using one as a sacrifice, we could make an arrangement for one of them to survive.

I warned her that this decision meant her relinquishing the power of every one of us. I told her that she would no longer have any of the abilities of the snakes; I told her that we would no longer be bound to her command. She insisted upon my action; anything to save at least one of them.

Thus, I sent the queen snake back into the real world with our master’s granddaughter as her vessel. She would grow to the full extent of her life, unaware of the serpent planted in her. The queen snake kept the quarter-medusa alive, but she was not conscious as I am. Using this set-up, we serpents were drawn back into the real world one by one… by people who died in pairs, harboring wishes that we could grant. All of my brethren were anxious to return to their queen, upset by the separation. To say it was easy to convince them to return to the real world would be an understatement. All of them… and myself… were gradually reintegrated into reality, being drawn together to once again reunite with the queen… Two of these siblings of mine are on the playing field right now, in fact. ‘Recording’ and ‘Awakening’ are both among us.

Your previous vessel and the guy in the red jersey, right?

Correct.

A-ya thought on this for some time.

I wonder, do you know the meaning of the word ‘loneliness’?

Saeru paused. I don’t, though it was a feeling that brought my old master to me for the first time. His tone was vaguely annoyed.

I see. Okay. A-ya let it go. But what was it, then, that you strived for? Existence, right? I know resetting your realm has something to do with the tale; you’ve brought it up before. In the end, it was to live longer… is that right?

Yes, you could say that, Saeru admitted.

A-ya smiled and answered aloud, “Alright, then. Thank you very much for the story.”

Are you satisfied, then?

“In fact, I am,” the dark-clad boy beamed slyly. “If ever I make it home, I’ll have to tell the others about that. That makes two, now! The tale of Deus ex Machina, the god that resides in imagination… and of the Clearing Eyes Snake, the demonic entity that was born in the realm of dreams! Think about it; granting dead kid’s wishes and bringing them back to life? How cool is that? Definitely a story I’d want to hear!”

You’re not making it home, kid.

“So?” he answered contentedly. “It’s a great thought. I like that thought, even if it isn’t real. Saeru, I have something to ask of you.”

What’s that? A-ya imagined his serpentine eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“When we reset, I want you to find me, and I want you to tell me that story again. Every time, so that there will eventually come a loop where I don’t forget it. Okay? Because legends never die – you’ll exist forever, no matter what happens.”

That’s not exactly what I mean when I say—

“Hey, Saeru?”

What?

“I can feel what you feel right now. Is the reverse true? Can you feel what I do?”

No, I cannot, Saeru immediately answered, and A-ya laughed freely as he approached the building where Twelve and Suzuya should be waiting for him. He kicked open the glass doors, his arms stocked with items for Twelve’s replenishment. The first thing that struck him was Suzuya, looking down at the fallen terrorist in utter bewilderment. When A-ya looked at the floor where Twelve lay, he was then hit with the vibrant red coloring the cape that he’d taken from his own shoulders to warm the fallen one.

“It’s red again,” A-ya commented quietly, just as lost as Suzuya looked. That cape had turned black as soon as he’d accepted Saeru’s possession. What might have made it change back to its original red hue? Perhaps he wouldn’t get an answer.

As he approached Twelve, the terrorist began to stir. Brown eyes fluttering and flickering open, Twelve looked blearily from the ceiling to Suzuya to A-ya. He smiled weakly.

“Good morning. I have iron supple-somethings,” Suzuya offered immediately, shoving the bottles at Twelve before he could even process what he’d said.

He laughed feebly, trying to sit up and failing to do so. “Supple…somethings. My favorite.”

A-ya quickly set down his items and helped him prop himself up. “I brought some food that might help.”

“Blood loss sucks,” Suzuya contributed with a nod, and Twelve gave another soft laugh.

“Y’thought… you could, get rid of me? Heh.”

“It’s alright,” A-ya assured without expression. “We’ll get your strength back up.”

“Good idea.”

“Hey, A-ya,” said Suzuya, his brow furrowed. “Where’s Izaya, though?”

“Hm,” the dark-clad boy frowned, “I’m not too sure, but…” He shrugged. “He’ll be back.”

“Probably,” Suzuya agreed noncommittally. “Oh, there he is now.” They looked to the doors as the informant strode through them and approached, expression rather serious.

“Get Twelve to his feet,” he commanded, and Suzuya immediately questioned him:

“Why?”

“I have a solution, trust me,” said Izaya, smiling thinly. “Come now, Suzu-chan. Have a little faith.”

Twelve did his best to help as A-ya lifted him as gently as he could. Suzuya went to his other side, and they stood with Twelve’s arms wrapped around either’s shoulders. Izaya snickered; they were both shorter than the terrorist. Poor Twelve couldn’t lend much help to them, as much as he tried. The adrenaline from beforehand was gone; his fatigue was thick, pungent grey. Heavy weights, liquid. He was moving through cement. “Cold,” he remarked, unsure whether he’d said it aloud or not. It must have been aloud, because Izaya took the red cape on the ground and draped it distractedly over the terrorist’s bare shoulders.

“What are we doing?” asked Suzuya, and Izaya answered with a, “Follow me.”

As Izaya led them from the building – he even held the door, how nice – he began to better explicate his plan. Knowing he was going to explain himself once they were moving was the only reason A-ya had agreed in the first place. “Twelve has just survived a pretty nasty injury,” he began, leading them down the empty street slowly but surely. “Typically, people shouldn’t survive something like disembowelment in this game. The fact that he’s survived, though, is only one miracle. I know how the game masters work. Twelve is handicapped right now – just look at him! In that state, he can’t do much at all. He’ll bring the game masters disinterest if he’s stuck this way for too much longer. If we don’t do something, he’s bound to die. However, the fact that he’s made it this far means that the game masters have, of course, given him some way to properly recover. Where else would they hide it but at a special items module?”

“You’re saying that the fact they’ve let him live this long means there has to be a way to make him better,” said Suzuya. “Right?”

“Because otherwise, he’d just be an obstacle to them,” agreed A-ya. “He’d bring stagnancy.”

“Jeez,” Twelve chuckled breathlessly.

“I’ve found one on this end here,” Izaya said, and directed them into a pharmacy, holding the door for the three once again. There it was, at the help desk: a pillar emanating that familiar purple glow.

It flickered to life as they approached, the silhouette of the Voice appearing with its arms spread. “One group at a time, please,” they smiled, and A-ya looked at Izaya.

“Here, you take this side of him. I’ll back up.” They switched up, and the dark-clad boy nodded to the informant in acknowledgment. “It was a good thought, Izaya. Thank you.”

Izaya only smirked at him before turning to face the silhouette. “Thank you kindly. Your choices are as presented.” Without another word, they disappeared with an eerie smile.

The blue touch-screen was projected to them, and as they stepped forward, A-ya could feel his own apprehension building.

What will you do if healing him is not an option?

He didn’t grace Saeru with an answer this time. He merely watched, thinking to himself that it would just be too good to be true for Twelve to be just fine after this.

Izaya, Twelve, and Suzuya all looked into the options: five in all, one of which was Celty. Two of the buttons were flashing cerulean, drawing their eyes to both options instantly. They were throbbing with the necessity of selection. One of the flashing options was, in fact, for Twelve: Recovery. The other…

“It’s for that Yato guy,” commented Suzuya bemusedly. “What’s a Blessed Rega—”

“It doesn’t matter,” Izaya spoke quickly, flatly, as he pressed the button for Twelve’s healing. He was enveloped in that all-too-bright light, and they all closed their eyes in answer. As the light died, the informant added drily, “I won’t do that to him.”

Suzuya wanted to ask who he meant, but decided he’d ask some other time.

Twelve slowly lowered his arms from Izaya and Suzuya’s shoulders, looking down to inspect himself.

“Do you feel any better?” asked A-ya tentatively, gripping one of his arms with his opposite hand. He was still suspicious of too positive a result.

“I feel great,” Twelve corrected, turning quickly on his heel in glee. “And look at this cool scar I’ve got!” To make his point, he gestured to the stitch-like scar on his gut where he’d been patched up.

Suzuya laughed. A-ya sighed lightly, smiling. Relief.

“It’s certainly got a story for it,” Izaya remarked, patting him on his bare back.

“No kidding,” he beamed. “No kidding.”

 

Chapter 72: Exchange

Chapter Text

 

“So, when are we gonna get moving again?” Minene quickly grew impatient upon her waking the next morning, just late enough for Rika to have made everyone morning tea again, and for Akise to have already made breakfast. “I’m not saying that it isn’t a good idea to lay low, but… give me a reason or something. I’m getting restless, here.”

“Yato needs to rest yet,” Akise smiled at her, and both she and Yato scoffed in unison. They looked at one another a moment before quickly looking away again.

“Bullshit,” she frowned.

[I think what Akise is saying is that all of us should rest.], suggested Celty.

“Exactly,” confirmed the young detective. “I’m not implying that all of us are particularly drained as of right now, but I’d like to head out later in the day.” He closed his eyes, sticking his hands back in his pockets. “Meaning, I’d like to take much of the day to recover, and leave as the sun sets. I’d prefer us to be active at that time, rather than risk the possibility of another ambush.”

“Oh, good idea!” commented Yukiteru brightly.

Minene rolled her eyes. “We could get ambushed either way, Akise.”

“That’s true,” he shrugged, “but I feel it would give us an advantage.”

“He’s right,” admitted Yato. He paused to eye the terrorist. “People out there could be thinking, ‘Ah, it’s dark and people are resting. It’s the perfect time to strike.’”

“Yeah, like you set up for two nights ago, right?” she growled, eye narrowing. She crossed her arms over her chest.

Yato looked away, seeming annoyed. Akise quirked an eyebrow at the terrorist while Yukiteru went silent, suddenly somber. Minene was referring to the night Roy had died, huh?

[Minene, please stop that.] Celty didn’t very much approve of her prodding.

“Yato did that in a yesterday,” Rika corrected simply. “Today is today. Not yesterday.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Minene waved her off, sitting down at her place on the floor. “I know. Besides, I know that he wasn’t even directly involved. It could be that that bitch Nora decided she wanted to lead that other creep to fresh meat – meaning us. So if you didn’t do that, well, my bad.”

“No,” Yato said flatly, “I sent her.”

Minene frowned at him for a bit, then busted into laughter. “Damn, well at least you’re honest. What a shit!”

Yato frowned right back, leaning back on the wall and crossing his own arms. He looked rather displeased.

“I don’t think this needs any further discussion,” said Akise.

“From here, Yato does what Yato does now,” Rika said matter-of-factly. “We see what he can do from now on.” She smiled at the god, but he only averted his eyes. “People do bad things all the time. Humans, gods, demons; they all have good and bad. That doesn’t make them bad people, or bad spirits, or bad beings. When something goes wrong, people are bound to follow that path. That doesn’t make it impossible to change it, that is so.”

“Yeah!” Yukiteru agreed heartily. “It’ll all turn out. Right, Yato?”

“Sure,” he uttered unconvincingly.

“Maybe you don’t believe it now, but I do,” Yukki beamed, and Akise couldn’t help but smile as the ebony-cloaked boy proceeded to thrust Kincho at Yato in offering. Rika joined the scene joyously.

“He’s cute,” Akise commented to himself contentedly, and Minene looked at the boy detective. Celty turned her helmet to him, in turn.

“Cute?” Minene repeated dully. “Yukki’s an annoying brat.”

“I’d have to disagree,” Akise answered calmly, touching his chin and closing his eyes. He was still smiling.

Minene was squinting at him. “You’re not, like… You know.”

“Not what?”

Celty was turning her helmet back and forth, from one to the other. She tilted it questioningly.

“Never mind,” Minene grumbled, and Akise chuckled.

“Minene-san, it’s alright. After all, I do like Yukiteru-kun as more than a friend. Not that he needs to know that in the current situation. Quite the contrary.”

Celty seemed to gasp despite her headless-ness. [Oh! I didn’t realize…]

“So you’re gay, then,” Minene said flatly.

“No, I just like him in that way.”

“That makes you gay, kid.”

Akise shrugged. “It’s all the same to me. I just love him, and that’s the truth.”

[I respect that. I wish the best for you, Akise.]

“Well, thank you.”

Minene rolled her single eye.

[Speaking of truth, Akise-kun, there’s something I’d like to talk to you about.] She shifted a bit, and Akise blinked at her.

“No need to be nervous,” he smiled. “What’s it about?”

[I’ve been meaning to bring it up, but I’d like if you and I could speak alone.]

“That’s perfectly fine.” He looked at Minene, who raised her hands up in acceptance. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’ll go over with Rika and Asshole, over here.”

“You could at least say Asshole-san,” Yato frowned.

“Ah!” Yukiteru jumped to his feet. “That’s right! Celty-san, I wanted to ask you something, too!”

Celty pointed at herself in confusion, and Yukki nodded emphatically. Akise chuckled at her bemused response. “Why don’t the three of us go for a walk? Celty-san, are your arms strong enough for defensive purposes?” The Dullahan stiffened, but Akise only spread his arms with a smile. “I know you’ve been having issues. It’s alright to be honest – no, it’s almost imperative that we are all honest with one another, here. Shall we?”

Dumbfounded, Celty nodded her helmet. Unfazed, Yukiteru joined them in their venture outside of the house, leaving Yato, Minene, and Rika together. Before stepping outside the door, Akise took a glance back at Yato. “I expect you’ll take good care of Minene-san and Rika-chan, yes?” He gave a closed-eye smile. “We won’t go far. Ah, and Minene-san, please don’t argue too terribly with Yato-san.”

“No promises,” she said dismissively.

Chuckling, Akise left with the other two. “I hope,” he said to Celty, “that it’s alright for Yukiteru-kun to tag along.”

“Um, I can leave after I talk to you, if you want,” Yukki offered to the dark rider, playing with his fingers and smiling awkwardly. “I mean, I get it if only he can hear about it. Since, well… Like, only you can hear about what I, uh…”

“Type it onto her phone,” suggested the detective-to-be. “Would that be alright, Celty-san?”

Nodding her helmet in approval, Celty handed over her phone to Yukiteru. “Ah, thank you…” Yukki sure was glad Akise understood this kind of thing. No suspicions, no jealousy or anything. It almost made him nervous, like surely Akise was hiding something else. Because of course nobody could just understand one another and trust one another without question. It was so alien to him. Yukiteru thought of A-ya and thinned his lips in discomfort. No, I think that’s the way it’s supposed to be. But Akise trusts me… and I trust him, too. It’s okay. It’s okay. As he looked at the keypad with nervous blue eyes, he thought, I wish I could tell Akise about Aureus, too. Thumbs hovering over the romaji letters, he froze. What if he was wrong? What if Celty wasn’t the one that had found Aureus in the female game? Even worse, what if she had refused Aureus’s offering in some violent manner? What if Aureus didn’t approve of Celty after all? What if she’d tell Akise?

“Ah, you’re shaking…” Yukiteru felt Akise’s hand at his shoulder, and he jumped, looking only to find Akise’s warm smile. “It’s okay, Yukiteru-kun. I can leave for a bit if you need to be alone with Celty-san.”

Yukiteru couldn’t even hear him past, ‘It’s okay.’ All he could think was that Akise sounded every bit like C-ta to A-ya, and then all he could see was those placid green eyes after Keiichi had died, and he looked at the phone in hand on instinct, as if it were his future diary. As if he hadn’t been in this damned Emina Games for however long. As if it were his phone, and not Celty’s; as if it held all the answers, like whether Celty was safe to trust, or whether Akise really actually wanted to help him, or—

Yukki shook his head. “U-um, it’s nothing. I mean. You’re okay. Um. Don’t leave. It’s fine.” He thought as quickly as he could about what the best way would be to ask Celty about Aureus without giving it away. Hastily, he typed the word ‘hatch,’ and passed it back to Celty. He couldn’t put into words why, but he didn’t want that phone in his hands any longer than it had to be. Suddenly, Yukiteru craved the safety of knowing his future. He shook his head again, mostly to himself. As he passed over the phone, he caught Akise’s eye. His friend was still smiling, tilting his head in a look of reassurance. When the phone was gone, Akise’s hand was at Yukki’s wrist. Yukki smiled weakly back at him.

Celty tilted her head at the simple message. Hatch? She thought of an egg, perhaps, or a plan. [I don’t understand.], she said to Yukiteru, whose face flushed in embarrassment.

“Here, um…” He took the phone back and thought about it again. ‘Do you know of a wooden hatch?’ he typed, then handed it back to her. Yukki watched as the Dullahan stiffened, darkness puffing out from underneath her helmet.

[One that leads underground?]

Yukiteru nodded happily. His fear subsided for the time. Akise put his hands back in his pockets, pleased that Yukiteru’s anxiety had quelled.

[You know Aureus?] Celty’s posture implied her immense shock and awe, leaning towards the fourteen-year-old in rapt attention.

Yukiteru nodded even more vigorously. “A-ya and I,” he explained.

[Really!]

He furrowed his brow as he smiled at her. He knew he had to pick his words very carefully. Just because Akise wouldn’t be reading Celty’s phone screen didn’t mean that he was now suddenly deaf. “Yeah, you’d been mentioned, too.”

She brought her phantom hand to her helmet, amazed. Why hadn’t she considered the possibility that someone else had found Aureus? Of course it had to have happened! But to think, it was Yukiteru—and A-ya, apparently. [Were there any others?]

“I… not with us,” Yukiteru said slowly. “I think we were the first. After, I don’t know.”

[This is exactly what I wanted to speak with Akise about!] she exclaimed in her silent way. [With the information that Aureus gave us, we’ll be able to work together to end the game!] Pause. [If there’s anyone we need to tell, it’s Akise, don’t you think?]

“I-I thought that we weren’t supposed to tell anyone,” Yukiteru answered nervously, rubbing at his arm. Akise was listening to Yukiteru’s half of the conversation, his hands in his pockets. He seemed unconcerned.

Celty thought about Yukiteru’s point, her phantom hand to where her chin would be. She typed, [That doesn’t mean we can’t tell him the most important thing.] Yukiteru tilted his head in question, and she continued, [Not about Aureus himself, but the things he told us: where the Control Center is, how many game masters there are, how to end the game, etc.]

“Oh!” Yukiteru blinked. “Of course; why didn’t I think of that? Akise! We have to talk to you about something!” Celty nodded her helmet in concurrence.

Akise smiled. “Yes?”

“Uhh.” He looked at Celty. “Where do we start?”

She hesitated, then began typing rapid-fire. [We have information regarding these games.]

“I’ve come to figure so,” Akise said, and she began typing again.

[The game masters are centered in the tower at the center of the game field – there are seven masters in all.]

“But not all of them are so bad,” Yukiteru piped in. “Some of them don’t agree with this game at all. But the one or ones controlling this stupid thing are in that tower.”

Akise was nodding. It made sense.

[The construct of the game doesn’t let the ones who commit unnecessary violence to finish the game and reach the end.] Tap-tap-tap. [In my game, there were 9 of us left, but even after reaching the tower, nothing happened.] Tap-tap-tap. [Someone named Eto didn’t fit into the system, so the game couldn’t end with her alive.] Tap-tap-tap. [I think it was because of her self-serving attitude.] Tap-tap-tap. [Because of her violent intent.]

“And this game, um,” Yukiteru piped back in, “…this game’s goal is really the cooperation of everyone on the field. So, all the power players, all the bosses—they can’t make it. The reason nothing happens if all players approach the tower is partially because of that. Um, there was something else…” Yukiteru squinted as he thought about it while Celty tilted her helmet a bit in question. “Minene blew up the tower. That was wrong.”

Celty straightened as if to say, ‘Oh. Oops,’ or perhaps, ‘Oh, I could have told you that.’ It was hard to tell.

“There is an entrance to the tower, but it’s underground.” Yukki scratched his head. “I don’t know exactly where, but that’s how you get in.”

“And knowing the masters of this game,” Akise added, “there’s likely one more challenge awaiting us in order to gain entry. Beyond that, I’m sure there are even more trials.” He began to chuckle as he watched Yukiteru deflate.

“Yeah,” the cloaked one agreed wearily. “You’re probably right.”

[We’ll worry about that when we get there.] A firm statement.

Akise agreed with a calm nod, bringing his hand contemplatively to his chin. “So, the both of you are implying that you may or may not have had contact with one such game master that didn’t like the course this game has taken?”

Yukiteru blinked. [We may or may not have, yes.], wrote Celty.

“And, if that were the case… this person is probably where Yukiteru-kun got his gravitational abilities, and why Celty-san is able to use the items modules even though the others from her game cannot. That may or may not be true?”

Yukiteru looked at Celty, and Celty turned her helmet down to face Yukiteru. They both looked back at Akise and nodded. Yukiteru swallowed.

Akise stroked his chin. “And – theoretically, of course – this person wouldn’t want you telling me about them, because that’s classified and something horrific might befall you if you betray that secret?”

“Um,” said Yukki. “Theoretically… yes?”

“I see,” Akise smiled. “Thank you, both of you. This is very important to me.” He pulled his blue notebook out of his pocket along with a pencil and began to write the information given to him down for future reference. “I’m glad we’ve had this discussion.”

“Me too,” Yukiteru grinned. “I feel so much better! Ah, something like that kind of info; shouldn’t we tell the others? And Yato! If we tell him that, then surely he won’t leave or anything, right?”

[We should still be careful, Yukiteru.], Celty warned him, and his smile faded.

“Huh? But wouldn’t it be better if everyone knew those things?”

“It’s also information that can be taken advantage of,” Akise admitted. “Somebody could try to cheat. Like, for example, Minene-san demolishing the tower of your game.” He nodded to Celty, and she scratched at her helmet.

“Well… oh well.” Yukiteru shrugged it off. “It’s fine, because Yato’s already doing much better. You were right, Akise-kun—I really think he was just misled and upset, you know?” His hands were gripped into fists in front of him, his excitement growing. “Just like Hinata and Mao were, right? Just like A-ya is! And we can help them, just like we helped Hinata and Mao – I bet all of the bosses in this game aren’t even all that bad! I bet all of them are just as confused, do you think? We could even get through this game without having to kill anyone else – we could save them! Can’t we?”

“I’m sure it’s possible,” Akise said carefully, touching his chin thoughtfully. “We’ll have to be careful if that’s the way we’re going about things, of course.”

[There may be a few that just have ill will.] Celty warned them, and Akise nodded.

“There’s also that. At this point in the game, those may be few and far between after all. But they aren’t yet eliminated.”

“That’s okay,” Yukiteru beamed. “Like you said, there aren’t many.”

“It just means we must be wary about the line between these people and the ones we can help,” said the boy detective, and Yukiteru nodded.

“Yeah, I know!” he said brightly.

Celty turned her helmet to Akise in a wordless expression that perhaps Yukiteru didn’t know. Akise only shrugged, smiling at her. “If anyone can change someone’s fate, it’s Yukiteru-kun.”

“Yeah!” A jolting crash resounded from their shelter as though in ominous punctuation to his optimism. They all turned to the house, Yukiteru’s smile dropping. Angry shouting rang out from what sounded like Minene. Without a word, they all ran back.

Rika had been conversing politely with Minene and Yato both, all of them sitting or kneeling on the floor of the house with Kincho sleepily nestled between Rika and Minene. “Hopefully, we will all be spending lots of time here together, now, that is so. I hope we may get along!”

“I don’t get along well with people I know I can’t trust,” Minene uttered drily.

“I don’t get along well with people who are dicks,” Yato uttered right back, crossing his arms indignantly.

“Oi, I have every reason not to trust you!”

“And you’re a dick, so.” Yato shrugged.

“What the hell…”

“You’re a terrorist, aren’t you? You kill kids.”

“And you haven’t?”

Yato paused. “Not on purpose,” he conceded, and she rolled her eye. “…Not for a long time, anyway.”

“Right, right. Whatever.”

“Past is passed,” piped in Rika. “What Yato does is what he does today, not yesterday. It’s the same for Minene.”

“Whatever,” Minene repeated. “Fine—aren’t you supposed to be a god?”

“Your point?” Yato frowned.

“Why are you wearing a tracksuit?

“Why not?” he sniffed.

“And what the fuck was thing you had when we first fought? A napkin around your neck?”

Yato blinked. “My…” He paused, then closed his eyes, turning from her in distaste. “That was my scarf. I don’t want you dissing it when I don’t even have it anymore.”

“Good. It looked dumb. And yet…” – she gestured to him – “…tracksuit. What are you, a Russian gangster? Trying to look like a bad boy?”

What?” Yato turned on her. “Alright, I’m not even from Russia! Do I look Russian?! My hair is purple!

“So? You’re also wearing a tracksuit.”

He pointed at her accusingly. “Well, what are you wearing? What kind of jacket is that?! Your neck is covered, but your cleavage is exposed – what, is that supposed to be your pocket? You’ve got money in there?”

“N-no!” she snapped, going pink. “What’s wrong with that, anyway?”

“So that is where you keep your cash?”

“No!”

“Then what, is that supposed to a be a terrorist thing? Trying to baffle the police with your boobs?!”

Rika hadn’t seen Minene lash out the way she did at Yato in that moment. Kincho jumped in shock; her fist was at Yato’s head in an instant, and he crashed right through the thin wall behind him. Moments later she had him by the collar, shaking him violently. Kincho was squealing in distress. “Ya want me to beat you?! I will! I don’t care if you’re a god!”

“Sto—uh—” In reaching out to push her away, he had only served to complicate the issue by grabbing the breasts in question. He grinned sheepishly at her, and she slammed him back into the ground, jamming her knee into his back and wrapping him in a chokehold before he could regain a sense of things. “I’ll die—I’ll die!” he wailed, but she only held tighter.

Yeah you will, you little shit!”

“I didn’t do anything wrong this time!”

This time—exactly!”

“I’m innocent! I—owowow…!”

Celty and Yukiteru burst through the door in all urgency. Before them was Yato in Minene’s chokehold, with Rika holding Kincho in the background. The youngest smiled at all of them. “Nipaa~”

Yukiteru and Celty deflated. “Um?” Yukiteru was so lost.

Akise followed after his friends into the house, his hands in his pockets. “Minene-san, please release Yato. He has yet to recover.”

“What did he do?” asked Yukiteru weakly.

“He’s a shit,” Minene growled in explanation.

“She insulted my tracksuit,” mumbled Yato, his hands gripping the arm wrapped around his throat. “She obviously doesn’t have a concept of ‘comfy.’”

“Minene-san, put him down,” Akise sighed, while Celty and Yukiteru seemed to silently agree with the command. Grudgingly, Minene released him.

Rubbing at his neck, Yato frowned at her. “Jeez, what’s all that about… Doing that in front of a kid, how terrible.”

“I swear to God…” She was grinding her teeth together.

“I’m sorry.” He turned to look at her. “I am God,” he grinned, and she punched him square in the face once more. He lay there with a weak smile on his face. “…Ow…”

“Perhaps we should all take time to properly rest,” said Akise, brow furrowed as he watched Yukiteru kneel beside the god, asking if he was alright. “We’ll stay here for a few more hours or so. Is that alright for you, Yato-san?”

“Ah… yeah…”

“Ah!” Yukiteru leaned over him. “Is it that Yato’s coming along with us for sure?”

“Eh—”

“I’m so glad!”

“Nii!” cried Rika in approval.

“Oh… uh…” Yato scratched at his head. “Of course I’ll protect Yukki from a tyrant like Minene!”

“I can’t believe—” Minene stopped as Yukiteru lit the atmosphere with light laughter. “You’re actually going with it, Yukki?!”

“Minene-san’s nice when you get to know her, I promise,” Yukiteru assured the god happily. “Just like you, Yato!”

“That’s debatable,” Yato said quickly. “I mean, my category is less in the area of ‘nice’ and more in the range of ‘garbage,’ so—”

“None of that degrading business,” said Akise. “For now, let’s all rest.”

“I can make tea!” Rika chirped, jumping to her feet.

“Thank you,” the detective-to-be smiled. “Minene-san, no more fighting with Yato-san. I’d like for him to be feeling at least a bit better when we do head out.”

“Yeah, yeah.” The terrorist crossed her arms irritably over her chest.

“Honestly, Minene, you should be a little more gentle with someone so weak and helpless like I am,” Yato snickered, and she knocked the back of her fist into his side. He curled forward, laughing with tears in his eyes. “I’ll… shut up now, okay?”

Shaking his head, Akise sighed even as he smiled. A bothersome personality, maybe, but nothing that was evidence of ill will. He felt that he’d made the right choice, indeed.

 

Chapter 73: The Problem Is

Chapter Text

 

The alliance of nine members retreated from the torn area where hide-and-seek had taken place, heading further into the middle of the city itself.  Somehow they’d gone on all night, purely by accident. Come morning, they settled themselves in a hotel lobby, everyone making an attempt at getting comfortable in the couches and chairs set out for guests. There was a hotel café just beside them all, but no one seemed in the mood to eat besides Konoha, who offered pastries to the others in vain. A general sense of weariness and distress had settled. They all introduced or re-introduced themselves in a rather mechanical fashion. Shintaro made his rounds with the medical bag, tending to Akira’s ankle and Shirou’s lacerations as well as the slightly-less-recent wounds of Shinichi, Rin, and Hide. Shinichi’s stub arm was properly wrapped in gauze, along with Rin’s arm and Hide’s shoulder. Unfortunately for Shintaro, Rin had found a new object for her taunting: the hikkiNEET himself. His flustered and stammering way of trying to answer her only served to amuse her further.

The talk was mostly tense. Roppi cautiously asked what happened to Light, his eyes averted. Kaneki couldn’t look at anyone in the eye upon mention of the missing member’s name. Shirou’s explanation was “missing in action.” Akira’s explanation was that he was “presumed dead, so don’t think too much on it.” Shintaro’s explanation was in the realm of “we actually have no idea; I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“There’s something we need to discuss,” said Kaneki eventually, and in the scattered conversations, all others present went quiet and looked at him even though his voice was rather soft. Kaneki folded his pale fingers together in front of him. “We need to talk about Seidou Takizawa.”

The quiet earned a greater weight. Hide distractedly scratched at his cheek, tilting his head and eyeing his friend with his brow slightly furrowed. Akira crossed her arms over her chest, eyes distant and unreadable. Shintaro looked someplace far-off. Roppi rubbed restlessly at his arm. Shirou lowered his head a bit, jaw tightening.

Konoha raised his hand. “Which one is that?”

Despite everything, Kaneki’s shoulders relaxed slightly, a small laugh escaping his lips. “The one… ah…” He touched his chin.

“When you first joined us, he’d been fighting with us against that god,” tried Shirou.

“He, uh, kinda resembles Kaneki?” offered Shintaro. “But with a cloak? And um—hungrier? I guess? I’m sorry.” He hung his head.

“Ah.” Konoha nodded. “He thought I tasted like sushi. I remember this.”

Akira put her hand over her mouth. She didn’t look very comfortable with the way this conversation was going.

“That’s right, we needed to help him also,” Konoha added, eyes shining in some kind of enlightenment even though he remained expressionless. “I remember this, yes, I do. He is the one who ate his mo—”

“Please stop,” Roppi said, looking vaguely ill.

“Oh.”

“Sounds pretty messed up,” commented Rin, folding her arms in front of her. “So, what are we supposed to discuss?”

Shintaro lifted his head. “Are we going to decide to—help him?”

Help him?” Rin repeated.

“He’s gone through something within himself that none of us could truly understand,” Shinichi said, his tone dead. “He’s caught at the point where he doesn’t believe in the name ‘Seidou Takizawa.’”

“Oh yes, he did say he wasn’t Seidou Takizawa,” said Konoha. “But then, who is he?”

“Did you guys meet with him?” asked Shintaro, brow clinched.

“It’s—a story,” said Roppi, clipped.

“It’s not that he’s a different person, or anything,” said Hide, bringing his hands casually behind his head. He leaned back on the loveseat that he and Kaneki sat on. “It’s just that he needs to be reminded that Takizawa’s still Takizawa. Right, Mado-san?”

Akira stirred, but didn’t know how to answer.

“What if he is a different person?” Kaneki asked faintly.

Hide frowned at him. “’Neki, just because he’s changed doesn’t mean he’s a ‘different person.’ It just means he’s gone through some stuff, and he’s got some demons to deal with. Y’know, that’s the way things go…” He closed his eyes, content. “Just like Kaneki’s still Kaneki. Shinichi’s still Shinichi. You know?”

Kaneki stared him. Shinichi looked at the ground; a light smile touched his mouth. It seemed the partial-parasite had more faith in Hide’s words.

“I think that’s exactly the way to go about it!” Shirou exclaimed, gripping his hands into fists. “He just needs to be reminded of all the things he once fought for!”

“Oh, jeez…,” Rin sighed.

Shintaro swallowed. “What if… Um—what if that’s been so warped that… um, he spins it on us, I guess? Think about it. ‘I have my ideal, and this is it.’”

Roppi laughed bitterly. “Oh, yeah, and then he holds up someone’s severed head as an offering like, ‘Yeah, isn’t this great?’”

“Er—” Shintaro shifted uncomfortably. “Something like that.”

Shirou was touching his chin, eyes dark. “That’s a good point,” said Rin.

“I guess that could be the case,” Shirou agreed grudgingly. “One of the first things he said to me… It was about his ideals. He basically said that the ideal of a hero was a lie, but the basic concept of a hero was still possible. The real question is what he thinks a hero is now, huh?”

“I-I don’t know if I want to know,” Shintaro admitted.

“I’m sure it’s not the same image as it used to be,” Akira concurred, her voice soft. She sounded as distant as she looked.

“So are we gonna try to help out this guy or not?” Rin huffed.

“I think we should,” said Shirou.

“I—I want to, too,” said Shintaro, “but…”

“As of this moment,” Kaneki came back in, “whether Seidou is able to be saved may not even be the question.”

“Wait,” said the hikkiNEET, “then what is it?” He seemed a bit edgy at the idea that perhaps they were trying to solve the wrong problem.

“Do tell,” Akira agreed.

Kaneki bowed his head. “There is every possibility that he’s not just a product of his evident torment. The game masters have been following the same pattern again and again: they threw antagonists into the game from the beginning – back then, it was the demons… What happens when they are defeated? Who became the antagonists?”

“It was Seidou,” Shirou said, eyebrow cocked. People were beginning to get the picture he was trying to paint.

“And A-ya,” Shinichi added darkly.

“And Yato.” Shintaro had a look of disturbed enlightenment on his face. “All of the new bosses are only bosses because of some mechanism of the game, right?”

Roppi had his sleeve to his mouth, his eyes dull. “Yato had Yukine, but that kid was killed by Kuroha’s group.”

“A-ya had his losses,” Shinichi admitted.

“And of course the snake that used to be Kuroha would try to tempt him.” Shintaro swallowed. Was it his fault that the demon had come back, too? He thought of Aureus’s warning of the consequences that may arise when bringing someone back to life. If the result was Konoha’s return, then surely, also… Shaking his head, he continued, “And with Seidou, it was all triggered because of that fast-forwarding mechanism, right? We know that already, but the point you’re making – the game masters create more antagonists from previous players as soon as the current bosses are cleared, right?”

“So?” asked Rin. “That makes sense. Of course they would want to spur the game.”

“But maybe it’s more than that,” said Hide, uncharacteristically grim. “Imagine you’re the one making this game. This antagonist is your new boss; you’re not just gonna up and let them turn back on that, right? You’re gonna want them to stay an antagonist, right? Because for everything to be resolved without a ton of carnage… Well, if they’re watching this like a TV show or a movie, like, I wouldn’t want my movie to be like that.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” mumbled Shirou, while Rin sighed.

Roppi’s sleeve was still at his mouth. “I think these game masters enjoy stories of the tragedy type.”

“Wow, they’re like you, Kaneki!” beamed Hide. “I’m kidding—I’m kidding, of course.”

“Right.” Kaneki closed his eyes.

“So then,” Shintaro said tentatively, “…you’re saying that we can’t help him, right?”

“I’m saying that it may not be Seidou’s choice.” The half-ghoul had his hands still folded in front of him, his thumbs pressed together. “It may be that Seidou… perhaps along with the other current antagonists… They may have lost all free will in regards to the path they take.”

“That’d be unfair!” Shirou remarked, straightening in his seat. His golden eyes flashed in indignance.

“That makes sense, as much as it sucks,” Hide nodded.

“Is it really the case, though?” inquired Shinichi. “Why would the game masters keep such a tight grip on his path, or A-ya’s, or Yato’s? If it were just Seidou, then why? Even if it were all of them, why them? There are a few people here that were almost antagonists – isn’t that also true?” Kaneki touched his chin, eyes darkening, while Roppi averted his gaze in distinct discomfort. “Now, that’s including myself. What changed that?”

“Um…” Shintaro half-raised a hand. “I mean, I feel like something like that may be determined by what happens to you, or whoever’s the subject at hand. Circumstances change what path someone goes down.”

Rin crossed her arms again. “But does that mean that even if someone goes on the right path, it isn’t their choice?

Shintaro blinked. “I…” He hung his head. “I don’t know…”

“Maybe it just depends,” offered Konoha, quiet. “For one person, they want to see what they do on their own. Another person; they are troublesome for the masters, so they push them one way or another.”

Hide frowned slightly. “So then the question becomes the difference between Seidou being interesting to the game masters, or being annoying.” He rubbed the back of his head. “Well…”

“It is true that antagonists are necessary for the ‘game’ to continue,” Shinichi conceded. “If no one wants to fight, what game is there? And with a lot of potential bosses getting the circumstances that lead them in the right direction, then the stragglers afterwards are the needed bad guys, right? And that means Seidou, I guess.”

“It could be some kind of point being made, too,” suggested Hide, running a hand through his bleached hair. “If this is ‘entertainment,’ things have to fit together just right. Maybe it has to do with who’s survived this far. Maybe the choice has to do with, I dunno, some kinda symbolic statement about what’s going on with the good guys. Maybe it’s because they’ve just got this creepy liking towards him!” Hide threw his hands into the air. “They’ve probably got favorites, too. Hell!”

“If it really is the case,” said Akira carefully, “that Takizawa is subject to the control of the game masters and has therefore lost the free will necessary to be saved… then it would be best to put him down—preferably as swiftly as possible.”

“I can’t accept that,” Shirou frowned.

“We also don’t know that for sure,” pointed out Shinichi.

“But which is worse?” added Shintaro. “If he were unable to snap out of it because of that outside force, or that he just—didn’t make the right choice of his own accord?”

“I think Roppi has something to say about the matter,” Kaneki said calmly, and the alter drew his lips into a thin line, shoulders rising.

“I, ah…” Roppi prepared to speak firmly with a tone other than dry bitterness. “One of the game masters came to me. She, um… Her name is Seraph.” He paused, seeming lost in thought. Everyone was staring at him in rapt attention. “She—said she was against the game, and even though the whole thing was really damned suspicious… I think I believe that much of her. And even though I’d thought I was being ambushed by another player, maybe, I’m pretty sure she was—definitely a game master. She knew a lot. And she told me about how Seidou could technically be saved, but there were two game masters in particular that were holding him to his fate because they didn’t want him to return in any way to who he was.”

“You met—?” Shintaro looked more perplexed than surprised. The others ranged from shocked to interested, or perhaps a bit of both.

“Yeah, she… Hm.” Roppi crossed his arms loosely. “She seemed pretty pissed about the whole thing, too. Said she’d been trying to give him at least a choice, but…”

“If she doesn’t like the game,” questioned Rin, “then why is she a game master?”

“Maybe she doesn’t have a choice either,” Roppi said flatly, and Rin didn’t have an answer.

“But if that really is the case,” said Shirou, “then what do we do to fix it?”

“Perhaps we just need to off him after all,” Shinichi remarked thoughtfully.

“There’s gotta be another way,” rejected Hide, scratching at his cheek.

“This game master,” said Roppi carefully, “gave me an option to break him of the grip of the others.”

“What? How?” Shirou was leaning forward, eager.

“There is an item…” Roppi paused, swallowed, and continued. “There’s an item I’ve attained; a product of the game masters. A mechanism of this stupid game…” He pulled the Harrowing Blade from his pocket and stiffly held it up for the others to see it: its ebony hilt inlaid with rubies; the hidden blade glinting crimson in the light of the lobby. Shintaro was the only one who wasn’t looking. “This knife… when it draws blood, it draws out the worst of a person.”

“How is that going to help?” Rin shot at him.

Roppi didn’t take kindly to the interruption. “Maybe you’ll find out if you’re quiet.”

“Allow Roppi to finish, Tohsaka-chan,” Kaneki said coolly. She only frowned, silent.

“Although this mechanism is a terrible thing, alone…,” Roppi continued, going slow as he thought out his words with all caution and preciseness. “It really is a terrible thing. This blade has drawn the blood of both Kaneki and Light.”

Akira and Shirou thought hard on this. The confusing incident that left them with the suddenly-illogical Light Yagami, severely injured by Kaneki, who had up and left just as suddenly… It made a lot more sense now. Shintaro, on the other hand, just bowed his head.

“Wow, the worst of ‘Neki, huh?” Hide grinned wide. “He doesn’t seem so bad!”

“Surely this isn’t—I mean…” Shirou scratched at his head. “It’s not a bad thing, but I don’t think this could be the worst of you, Kaneki. If… if only because I know enough about people to understand everyone has a, uh… pretty bad side.”

Rin gazed at him with slightly-softened blue eyes, but Shirou didn’t notice, his gaze somewhere distant.

“…Even if it seems like a completely different person,” the red-haired one completed his thought.

“That’s just it,” Roppi said seriously. “You can reverse the effects of this thing, and this—this veto is just as important a rule as all the others in this stupid game. It’s a part of what the game masters set up, so they can’t—they can’t argue Seidou’s own free will if he gets this mechanism reversed.”

“Wait, what?” Konoha tilted his head.

“Like…” Shintaro paused, groping for better wording for the android, as well as for the other confused faces in the circle. “Something like—the game masters are the reason that Seidou doesn’t have free will right now, right? That’s because of some sort of ridiculous antagonist clause in their gameplay. But—if those same game masters made this, too… and if this is an item that’s supposed to stir the plot… then any of the rules they’ve made surrounding this blade… They can’t argue against their own mechanism.” The NEET nodded to himself. “Yeah, they can’t argue against their own mechanism,” he repeated. “That’s what it is.”

“I… think I understand,” Konoha said slowly.

“Then, say we draw Seidou Takizawa’s blood,” said Shinichi. “This thing draws out the worst in him. Let’s say we figure out how to reverse it. Then what? This gives him free will back… I’m not saying that’s bad. It’s very good. But…”

“Will Takizawa still make the wrong choice?” Akira asked, her voice quiet but heavy.

Roppi shrugged. “She informed me that if he made the wrong choice, his sins would come crashing down on him. I’ll believe her on that only because, if you look at the bad guys, they go through a lot of shit. Sebastian was slaughtered, and Kuroha was torn to shreds inside and out before finally dying—”

“I did the inside,” Konoha said, soft and proud.

“Oh, Konoha,” Shintaro sighed, finding himself smiling a bit.

“Exactly.” Roppi gestured to Konoha as if it proved his point. “Maybe the snake dude’s back, but I’ll bet he’s already injured, and who knows how troublesome that ‘A-ya’ kid is for him? Izaya’s been an asshole, and look at him – he’s caught in a group with that very demon, and even though Izaya is a screwed-up douchebag, he would not side with a demon; not like that. Yato’s been torn to shreds at this point, too. I wouldn’t be surprised if he just collapsed somewhere, honestly.”

“Alright, so if this Seidou guy makes the wrong choice, he’ll eventually be punished,” conceded Rin. “But what about immediately?”

“Immediately, people may be killed,” Kaneki answered bluntly. “There is a heavy risk involved in what we are discussing. Whether we decide to put him out of his misery or attempt to save him, there will be possible sacrifice either way.” He closed his eyes. “Of course, no one will be forced to partake in this.”

Roppi nodded in agreement.

“In any case,” added the half-ghoul, “even if Seidou comes to a positive conclusion, there may be casualties despite that victory. This isn’t going to be easy in any stretch of the imagination, and we have to be prepared for those possibilities.”

“If this is so risky,” said Akira coolly, “then we must take into consideration the fact that it may be better to kill him swiftly.”

“I don’t like it,” Shirou frowned indignantly.

Akira closed her eyes. “Please understand. If it comes to be that more people would die in all if we were to try to save him, then that simply isn’t the correct path to take. Sacrifice one for the many… We must go for the ideal possible outcome.”

Shirou frowned. “One for the many, huh? It’s interesting.” As Akira raised her eyebrows in question, Shirou looked to the ground. “When he first came to… after fast-forwarding… it was the first thing he said to me. ‘I am that sacrifice,’ he said. ‘I am the product of that ideal.’ Can that really be right?”

“I do not think Seidou will make the wrong choice, if it were his own,” said Konoha simply.

“What makes you think so?” asked Akira coolly.

“This person… Seidou. We met him on our mission to help Kaneki.” He tilted his head slightly. “He helped Roppi, even if it might have been on accident. It might be that I just don’t understand exactly what happened, but what it looked like… I saw two people telling one another how much they’re hurting, and then deciding there’s nothing to do about it. Seidou, he told us that he didn’t want this; I know that for sure. He said that he hated it the way things were. I remember that.” Konoha touched his lips thoughtfully. “I think he was right to be as upset as he sounded. Because the world really is a scary place.”

“You know what, Konoha?” said Hide. “I think you’re absolutely right!” He leaned forward. “In that last battle – Rin-chan, Shinichi, you guys remember?”

Shirou blinked, bemused. ‘Rin-chan’?

“I remember, alright,” Rin frowned, recalling the death of Senji.

Shinichi brought his hand to his stub arm as he recalled the event. “Yes?”

“I know it kinda sucked,” Hide conceded. “I mean, who knows how I would’ve ended up if ‘Neki didn’t show up when he did? But… like, Seidou was really trying there, when he recognized me. I’m sure of it – he’s just a little miffed about what’s been stolen from him over time.”

Rin scoffed. “A little miffed?

“He has a hole in his heart, that’s all,” said Shinichi softly.

“He was at the last battle, too!” Shintaro blurted, all tensed in his excitement. “He—I saw him in the window when I was on the balcony!”

“What was he doing there?” Akira asked calmly.

“I, uh…” Shintaro blinked.

Shinichi was thoughtful. “I don’t suppose he could have been the one to cause the explosions.”

Shintaro shook his head vigorously. “No—no way, I know who that was. There’s this guy—a terrorist; he says his name was Twelve. He was one of the new players, so—”

“Maybe he was trying to stop this Twelve guy?” suggested Hide.

“If only—I’d gotten to speak with him, or something.” Shintaro put his face in his hands, thinking hard on anything else that would prove Seidou had hope for him yet.

“When I was under the influence of the blade Roppi has,” said Kaneki, “Seidou did confront me. My memory is blurred. I do wish that I…” He paused, eyes dark. He shook his head. “I do know that I said some cruel things to him, but on the other hand, he was no better. I do remember getting the idea that he didn’t have the capacity to accept responsibility. His ruefulness is too potent for him to handle, I’m sure. Or, at least something along those lines. There was also…” He trailed off, and everyone was respectfully quiet as he tried to recall the event. “I do believe that he is to some degree aware of whatever control has been placed upon him. He himself understands that what has happened with him doesn’t make sense in context, and I do have a vague recollection of his mockery of his own position as a puppet.”

“Puppet,” Konoha repeated.

“He did mention that he thought everything he came across right now was nothing but a sardonic set-up,” remarked Roppi.

“The question, then,” said Shinichi, “is whether it’s his bitterness talking or… or it’s a cry for help in disguise.”

“I’m sure,” said Shirou, “that he wishes for help. I just don’t believe he’s aware of it.”

“Let alone that he’d admit it,” Shinichi agreed.

Roppi had brought his sleeve back over his mouth by then. “But there’s still a greater problem at hand: if we do take this risk and try to harrow Seidou, we need to know how to reverse the effects as quickly as possible. We don’t want to have him harrowed for long, and I’m sure he’ll have even less control when he’s under the influence of this blade.”

“Well,” said Shirou, “when did Kaneki dispel its effects?”

“We’ll have to go on his example,” added Rin with some distaste, “seeing as the other guy is ‘missing in action.’”

Kaneki nodded. “It was… ah, I’d heard Hide in that battle you referenced a minute ago.” He looked at the bleached-blond boy. His childhood friend beamed goofily. “For some reason, I hadn’t noticed how distorted everything had become. Yet, hearing him cut through that distortion—so clear and vivid was his voice. It was very disorienting; I wasn’t quite sure what I was to do right then. I could tell that I was being drawn to continue being as I was – I was in the midst of a fight with Yato, in fact. But, thank goodness, something possessed me to run through the trees and make sure Hide was alright. It was just after I’d stopped Seidou from hurting you, Hide, that my thoughts really came back into focus. It was a burning sensation, as if I were being purged of something poisonous. It wasn’t unpleasant – rather refreshing, actually – but immediately afterwards, I felt reality come back into focus too. I admit I felt—very guilty for my actions.”

“It’s all good, Kaneki,” Hide grinned. “You were super badass back there. Who would’ve thought you’d be that strong? Seriously!”

“So it was Hide that broke the effects, then,” said Rin.

“Or was it the desire to help?” inquired Shinichi.

“Maybe even the act itself?” suggested Shirou.

“No, no,” argued Rin. “Think about it – if the action broke it, wouldn’t the effects prevent him from ever doing that?”

“Willpower?” the redhead tried with a shrug.

“So a strong will to help another breaks it?” Shinichi thought on this.

“It was his voice, he said,” Shintaro said quietly, deep in thought.

“Then, was it Hide’s voice specifically, or was it the sound of distress from Hide specifically?” asked Akira. “Is it dependent on a person, or is it the combination of this person being in distress?”

Kaneki thought before he answered. “I think that even as I got closer and I could hear Hide talking normally, it still had a sense of clarity to it.”

Hide was practically glowing with joy.

“What?” Kaneki was frowning ever so slightly.

“I dunno,” Hide waved him off. “I missed ya too, bud.”

A Mona Lisa smile touched the half-ghoul’s lips, only for Kaneki to clear his throat and hide it with his hand.

“Now then, what are the requirements for this person?” asked Shirou. “What is Hide to you?”

“Ah.” Kaneki blinked.

“We’ve been buddies since the elementary,” Hide said proudly. “I do my best to look out for this guy.” He nudged Kaneki, who smiled lopsidedly despite his furrowed brow.

“A protector, then?” said Rin.

“Or a friend?” said Shirou.

“Or a hero?” said Shintaro. Everyone looked at him for a moment, and he quickly turned his face to the ground, flustered.

“A hole in his heart, you said?” Konoha tilted his head, looking at the half-parasite.

Shinichi straightened. “I did.”

“How do you fill something like that?” asked the android. “What is the meaning of ‘love’? Can it come in the form of someone like Hide for Kaneki? Or you with that little hand-man?”

Shinichi’s brown eyes widened. Absently, he brought his still-attached hand to his chest, his orbs glazing. “I…”

“Even if there is a hole in somebody’s heart, can it still be filled?” Konoha persisted. “Even if someone doesn’t have a heart at all, can it still be felt? Why do people do things like ‘protect,’ even when most often it seems that you will fail? Why are people sad when they fail to protect? What is the meaning of the term ‘friend’? What about ‘hero’? What do these mean? Aren’t they all still from the same place – I mean, the heart?”

Shintaro was gazing at his android friend with sad, awed eyes. “Konoha…”

Shinichi was visibly distressed, his jaw tightening and his hand gripping at his chest as he lowered his head, staring at nothing at all. “I—you’re…”

“Ah, I am sorry.” Konoha sank slightly. “Have I hurt you? I didn’t mean to. Ah, and I never apologized, either…”

“No, it’s alright,” Shinichi said calmly, releasing his chest. He did not raise his head. “You don’t need to apologize.”

“You—have a good point, Konoha,” said Roppi, eyes narrowed. “It makes sense, being tied to the heart and all. If this thing draws out the worst of you…”

“Then, someone who draws out the best of you?” tried Shirou.

“Maybe,” Roppi said thoughtfully.

“Not necessarily,” Shintaro said slowly. “Couldn’t it be just that? Someone you really care about? Come kind of—connection you have?”

“It is true,” conceded Shinichi, his head raised to reveal his blank face, “that Migi didn’t necessarily bring out the ‘best’ of me, going by Konoha’s argument.”

Shirou scratched his head. “Then someone with strong ties to them, huh?”

“Like, Shintaro?” asked Konoha, tilting his head.

“Oh, no, no.” Shintaro waved his hands in front of him. “I—I’m not for that. Him and I… I mean, we couldn’t have been—all that close.”

“Maybe Kaneki,” suggested Roppi, and the half-ghoul smiled apologetically at him.

“I don’t think Seidou would take kindly to me right now,” Kaneki admitted, hand to his chin.

Hide eyed him, curious. The bleached-blond one then sighed heavily, folding his arms over his chest and holding up a single finger. “Isn’t it obvious? Who has the greatest association with Takizawa?” Hide turned to the silent Akira, quirking an eyebrow. “Who’s the one that can get through to him the best, huh? Who do you think?”

Akira stared at Hide, her jaw set. She had nothing to say.

“His number one to his second-place complex; I see,” commented Kaneki. Everyone was looking at the female officer now, her stature stiff.

“You know,” said Shintaro with a weak smile, “I told you—he did want to apologize. He did have affection for you in some way or another. That’s something you need to know, I think.”

“So the only one that can do it is Akira?” asked Rin.

“I guess it’s up to her, then, huh?” said Roppi, eyebrows up.

“As I’d said before,” Kaneki said, “no one will be obligated to join in this, regardless of what we choose to do. Knowing Akira is the best bet to purifying the effects of the blade, it seems it will be up to her which course of action to take.”

“At this point, it’s hard to tell,” remarked Roppi, eyes dead. “We may not be going on a rescue mission after all.”

“It may not be a rescue mission in the first place,” Rin pointed out. “It could just be a suicide mission.”

Shirou stood and turned to face Akira, who had been sitting beside him. “Akira-san, I don’t wish to impose. However!” He bowed deeply. “I ask that you please take this into consideration!”

Akira’s head was bowed, if slightly. She did not look at him. When she spoke, her voice was low. “Do you really think…” She raised her gaze to him, violet eyes shining in something reminiscent of desperation. “…that I don’t want to help him?”

Shirou began to deflate, looking at her with some kind of wordless shame.

“I don’t know, Shirou. Everyone. Please. I would like some time to think.”

The gazes upon her were colored with different shades of empathy or apology. Rin was looking away.

Eventually, Kaneki answered her with that slight warmth touching his lips. “Of course.”

Konoha smiled gently. “I’m sure we will do the right thing,” he said.

“Perhaps, for now,” said the half-ghoul, “we should rest.”

 

Chapter 74: Undercurrent

Chapter Text

 

“I’m sick of this system,” Aureus said firmly. He was leaning back in his swivel chair, legs criss-cross-applesauce, barely fitting on the seat. In his dimly-lit haven beneath the earth, he was facing Seraph, who was leaning forward and nodding at him. “That’s why I’m doing all of this ‘dirty’ stuff, as you put it. Jeez.” Restless, he ran a hand through his golden hair. “I’m so—frustrated about all of it!”

“And that’s why I’m here; you know that, right?” said Seraph.

“I know…” He tugged angrily at his hair. “I’m just pissed off.” Although the items master was incapable of leaving his hatch, Seraph had at last come to meet him down here, ready to conspire together.

“Me too,” Seraph smiled slyly. “We’re gonna mess with Muse; we’ll make them wanna kill us!” She burst into joyous titters.

Aureus gave a weak sigh, looking over at the screens. “Well, it looks like the Unity Group’s talking about that plan you proposed,” he remarked, and she peered at the screen curiously before her mouth spread into another grin.

“Oh—yay!” she clapped her hands, spinning around in triumphant giddiness.

“Using my Harrowing Blade to get Seidou out of the mess Muse has got in store, huh? Do ya really think that they don’t know about this?”

“I know Muse knows by now,” Seraph huffed.

“That we did this behind their back, too?”

“Hm, I dunno.” She put a finger to her lips, contemplative. “Probably.” At Aureus’s exasperated look, she giggled. Watching him bring his hands to his face and then slowly drag them down, her smile dropped. “Have they decided to go with it? Do you think it’s a good idea, Aureus?”

“I mean, yeah, kind of.” He rubbed at the back of his head, squinting at the screen. “Are they going with it? I think they will. I’m less worried about the purification and more worried about the act of harrowing Seidou at all, you know?”

“Well, do you have any other ideas?”

“I—don’t…” Aureus shrugged. “Honestly, if he’s gonna end up killing Akira because of this, I won’t be happy at all. I’d rather he’d injure her and take her along with him. Drag her to the graveyard and have Anna—”

“We don’t talk about the graveyard,” Seraph said flatly, her countenance suddenly very grave. Pun not intended.

Aureus raised his hands peacefully. “My point is, they just wink out of existence. I’m okay with that. What would be the symbolism of him actually killing her?”

“Who said Seidou was going to kill her?” she sniffed. “He won’t!”

“He might.

“He won’t,” she insisted. “The worst part of him; who says it’s his violent nature? Does it have to be sadism?”

Well…” Aureus still didn’t seem convinced. He paused, unfazed by Seraph’s demanding stare. He gave up, releasing another sigh. “I do think this’ll work. I just don’t think it’ll work well.”

“They’ve pretty much figured out how to fix the effects of the blade,” Seraph pointed out. “Greyson and Rainbow are the veto to that item, and both you and I know what that means.”

“Bonds of the heart, yeah, yeah…”

“I already talked to them,” she added. “Rainbow said that Akira would work if Seidou were harrowed.”

“Alright, alright,” Aureus conceded. “So they’ll be able to purify him; that’s good… I don’t think Akira’s gonna turn this down, as much as she’s conflicted about it.”

“Oh, she won’t turn it down,” Seraph smiled thinly. “I know she won’t.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Yay, character development?”

“Yay!” she agreed heartily, clapping her hands again. “It’s very important; she’s doing so well! I’m glad.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll believe you,” Aureus said carefully. “I’ll go with it and say that Seidou won’t, you know, pluck Roppi’s head off like a pineapple or rip Akira to shreds in blind rage. If the Harrowing Blade really is negated in time… then Seidou should be alright as long as other groups don’t intervene. Or Muse doesn’t intervene. I can at least give you that. Alright?”

“Alright,” she grinned a closed-eye smile, folding her thin fingers together. “So, you’re against Muse now, right?”

Aureus looked at the stone ceiling, yellowish-auburn in the half-light. “I wouldn’t say I’m against them… but… yeah, I want them to burn in a pit of fire and flames.” He paused, then flashed a grin at Seraph.

“Great!” she squeaked. “And—it’ll all turn out okay. Not a bad end route like Muse wants.”

“Yeah,” Aureus repeated distractedly, looking back over at his screens. “Like Muse wants.”

Seraph peered at him for a moment, perhaps curious, before she bit restlessly at her thumbnail and turned to eye the screens again. “Yeah,” she echoed.


“Grey, look.” Someone with hair every shade of the rainbow turned their laptop screen to a silver-haired one, tilting their head in half-hearted curiosity.

“Hm…?”

“This armadillo; I swear to god…”

“Uh-hmm…”

“It really likes Celty,” said Rainbow, containing their laughter as they shook their head. “Hilarious.”

“Yeah…” Greyson paused, nestling themselves beside Rainbow on their couch. “I’m kinda impressed that Yukiteru’s holding up like he is.”

“He needs to find A-ya,” Rainbow said sadly. “I really need them to… to…”

“I want them to fight to the death,” remarked Greyson.

“Of course you do. I want them to kiss. Or something.”

“They can kiss or something right before one of ‘em dies.”

“That’s terrible.

“I wanna see Izaya cry, too.” A thoughtful tangent.

“God damn it, Grey.” Rainbow began to laugh again, appalled yet unsurprised. “I want Shizuo to be, uh, not-dead.”

“So they can kiss?” asked Greyson flatly, eyebrows raised.

We-e-ell…” It was then that Muse entered the room they resided in: a lower floor of the tower which Greyson and Rainbow called home. Muse’s arms were spread, smile on their face.

“Rainbow, Grey, how’re you guys doing, hmm?~”

“It’s been awhile,” remarked Rainbow, and Grey jumped to their feet, running giddily over to Muse to hug them. They accepted the embrace graciously, unfazed by the nuzzles of affection they received. “Well, actually not that long, but you know.”

“It’s still nice to see Muse!” chirped Greyson, and Muse laughed lightly.

“I take it you’re both well; I’m very happy.” They folded their fingers together behind their back, smiling thinly. “I don’t suppose either of you know where Seraph went?”

“No, oh no,” said Greyson immediately. “Not at all.” They clasped their hands together in front of them, tapping the fingertips of their index fingers together. “No.”

“Nah,” said Rainbow, more thoughtful. Their eyes were on their screen, away from Muse. “I thought she was with Durden.”

“She isn’t,” said Muse simply, smiling just the same.

“Not with Durden?” Grey remarked. “Well that’s weird. She wouldn’t be with Rodd, right? No.”

“Yeah, we haven’t seen her since when Shintaro almost went off the deep end,” added Rainbow.

“Which time?” asked Muse.

“The time when he almost went XX,” Grey said excitedly. They began tapping their fingers together in rhythm: evil plotting fingers. “It was wonderful…

“I’m kinda glad he didn’t go XX,” said Rainbow.

“But it would be fun!” grinned Greyson.

“Yeah. But isn’t there enough stuff going wrong? Grey?

Muse, quirking an eyebrow, released a sigh. “Ah, well, at least I tried. Just wondering! I’m going to go and keep an eye on all the players, then.” They were smiling again.

“If you ever wanna ‘keep an eye on’ them with us, you can,” said Rainbow, gesturing to their laptop.

“Yeah, it would be nice to spend time with Muse,” added Grey, leaning into them.

Muse only smiled and politely waved their hands before them. “Ah, yes, thank you very much. I’ll keep this in mind, yes I will. For now there’s something I need to think about as all.”

“Okay…,” said Grey.

“Alright,” said Rainbow, nodding agreeably. “Sounds good.”

They gave their simple farewell exchanges, and Muse left. Greyson returned to Rainbow’s side. Both were silent for a few moments. Neither dared speak about Seraph. “I miss Muse,” said Grey quietly.

“Look at this kid,” said Rainbow. “Rika’s amazing.”

Grey looked at Rainbow, then at the screen. They seemed to agree silently over something. “I guess she is,” they said.

Muse, having left their area, rose up from their floor to the top of the tower, the elevator softly whirring as they ascended. The smile had dropped, their hands opening and closing, opening and closing. Their breathing was deep. A static rage buzzed within them. “It seems they won’t admit it, huh,” they commented to themselves, their gaze steady. They were very still besides their opening and closing hands. The elevator door opened, and they stepped out onto their typical residence during this game. While Aureus could not leave his hatch, Muse was just as aware that they could not leave their tower. “Seraph and Aureus are spending time; I am very… glad.” They calmly walked to their desk and stood there. And stood there.

Eyes placid, they crushed Twelve’s already-mangled contraption with their foot. “They’re doing all this to help Seidou Takizawa… Interfering with Roppi. Working with Aureus. Their plan makes it sound like I don’t want Seidou to be saved. As if I wouldn’t let him be, but of course I would. Of course I would. As if I’m not being fair, right?” They smiled, relaxing shoulders they hadn’t realized they’d bunched up. “Of course I’m being fair. I’m being perfectly fair. They absolutely have the capability of saving Seidou, so if they really believe that I’m being biased, not letting him improve… If you go against me in that way, well, I’ll just have to punish you for it.” They plopped themselves on their swivel chair, contentedly grinning. “That’s right; that’s all there is to it! That’s it! Let’s see how pleased you are with that outcome, then, hah?” And they laughed in the company of themselves. They were all that was.


The sun was beginning to set, the sky taking on that pale shade that meant the night was on its way. It was at that time, in the yellowish air, that Akise said it was about time to head out. Needless to say, Minene was pretty relieved to get moving again. “So is the heavenly douchebag actually sticking around, or are we parting ways?” she asked bluntly, and Celty seemed to sigh.

“I guess that’s me, huh?” remarked Yato, looking thoughtfully to the sky as if were some kind of profound observation.

“That would be up to Yato-san,” Akise shrugged pleasantly, his hands in his pockets.

[I agree.] said Celty. [I think Yato should decide from here whether to continue on with us.]

Yukiteru seemed rather concerned. “I thought that…” He wrung his wrists. “Well, you know…” Akise glanced at Yukki, smiling slightly.

“If I have the opportunity to take my leave…” Yato brought a hand to his chin.

Yukiteru looked at him hopefully. After all of that, hadn’t Yato even implied himself that he was staying? Surely there was no question! The only answer was to stay, wasn’t it?

“Well, I guess that means I’m leaving,” Yato said matter-of-factly, and turned right around to face the woods. “Nice meeting all of you; thanks for saving my life and whatever!”

Yukiteru slumped, appalled. Celty straightened, utterly stumped. Akise quirked an eyebrow.

“WHAT?” snapped Minene, grasping him by his collar and yanking him backwards with a yelp of protest. “After all that, and you’re about to up and ditch?!”

“I—well, I mean—you just said—”

“That was supposed to be your chance at redemption, dumbass!” she growled.

“Yato is a part of this group now,” said Rika sweetly. “That is so.”

“It’s certainly true that all of us want Yato to come along: even Minene-san, it seems,” said Akise with some amusement. She frowned at him. “It’s almost considered out-of-character. I’m impressed.”

“Fuck you,” she growled, and Akise chuckled.

“I…” Yukiteru paused, thinking hard. He clenched his hands into fists, and Yato looked at him curiously. “I don’t think I want to let you leave. I think we all know what would happen if you left now. Don’t you? I’m not an idiot, okay? Isn’t it true that only one of two things would happen with you, Yato? You would return to causing conflict, wouldn’t you? Or you’d get killed—and I don’t like either option! I wanna be your friend, so c’mon.” In all his determination, he gravitationally tugged Yato to his feet again. Minene was leaning away from him, still a bit flummoxed by Yukiteru’s whole new ability or whatever.

Yato, although standing upright now, was not looking at anyone, especially not Yukiteru. His eyes were dark and cold.

Akise brought a hand to his chin, thoughtful. “Perhaps Yukiteru-kun has a point, however. Those wounds you have, Yato-san… I’m sure they’re not healed quite yet. It may be best for us to keep you around a little bit longer, wouldn’t you say?” He smiled wryly at the god. “You know. To make sure you’re alright. That’s all.”

“I’d be fine,” Yato answered, clipped.

“No you wouldn’t; that is so.” Rika pranced up to the god and tugged at his hand only for him to pull away. She looked disappointed.

“On the contrary,” Yato said, his tone low, “I think it would be better for me to be gone. You all know it just as well as I do.”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” Akise smiled, hands back in his pockets. “Do explain. Whatever you do is up to you, isn’t it? You have every bit of control, so long as you’re aware of your own agency. Isn’t that so?”

“Nipaa~” agreed Rika.

“I’ve accepted your hospitality thus far, but I won’t anymore,” Yato said flatly. “I want nothing to do with your group.”

“I knew he was a dick,” Minene scoffed.

Celty stood, still. Her phone was in her hand, her thumb hovering over the keyboard as she searched for words. At last, they came to her. [The God of Depravity, the God of War, the God of Calamity – that’s what you said.] She held it up to him, and he nodded, staring into the dark glass of her helmet with a steady gaze. [And what does that mean to you?]

Yato furrowed his brow. “I don’t know what you mean.”

[Do you feel like a God of Calamity right now?]

He rubbed at the back of his head, perplexed. “I mean… who says it’s gotta feel like something? I’m not—well, I guess so?”

[You don’t sound so sure.]

“It doesn’t matter whether I feel like it; that’s what I am,” Yato frowned. “If some human doesn’t feel human, does that make them inhuman? What does that make them? Do they become something else?”

She thought on this. [Sometimes.]

Yato scoffed.

[I’m very sorry about what happened to your friends.]

His eyes narrowed.

[I can with all sincerity tell you that I never even met the girl named Hiyori. In fact, I didn’t kill anyone at all, even in the other game.] Pause. [I did aid in the murder of the half-ghoul Eto, but she was an antagonist that needed to be rid of, unfortunately.]

“What’s your point?” Yato asked bitterly.

Celty hesitated, then asked everyone, [If I take off my helmet, can I be assured that I won’t frighten any of you?]

“It’s fine,” Akise smiled, while Yukki’s eyes widened in alarm. Was A-ya right? What if she was actually headless?

[Minene, could you please cover Rika’s eyes?]

“She’ll be fine,” Minene waved her off.

“Nii?” Rika tilted her head.

Slowly, Celty removed her feline-esque biker’s helmet, releasing an outpour of thick black smoke which thinned and dissipated in the great reveal of stark nothingness. There was, in fact, no head on her shoulders – just a steady trickle of dark smoke.

“Ooo,” commented Rika, interested, while Minene nodded in approval.

Yukiteru’s jaw dropped. A-ya was right! Fear gripped him even though he kept trying to tell himself that this was surely really cool; this was amazing – a living legend! If only A-ya could see!

Well, he kinda wanted to scream, honestly.

On the other hand, Akise could only remark, “Interesting,” in all his pleasant intrigue. Glancing at his silver-haired friend, Yukki shut his mouth, managing to calm down with Akise being so… well, okay with this.

Yato’s scowl dissipated into bemusement as he looked at her. He’d sensed something about her, but hadn’t been able to pinpoint what sort of being that power would originate from. What was she?

[I’ve been told that I’m something called a Dullahan. Do you know that title, Yato?]

It did sound familiar to him, but he couldn’t quite remember what it was that defined this creature. It certainly wasn’t a being of Japan.

[I guess not.] She paused. [It’s something like a ‘headless horseman.’] Pause. [A grim reaper who chooses who’s next to die.] … [It’s something that doesn’t have a lot of positive tales surrounding it.]

Yato was quiet. He didn’t have an answer.

[So I guess my point is…] She faltered again, perhaps unsure of herself. She didn’t seem to be very comfortable with her helmet off. [I live a relatively peaceful life without my head at my side.] Tap-tap-tap. [I wanted to find it for so long, but in the end, I do believe that I’ve become something different than I was born to be.] Tap-tap-tap. [I live happily with a man named Shinra. He has been very kind to me.] Tap-tap-tap. [I’ve made friends of both human and non-human origin.] Tap-tap-tap. [I may get caught up in a lot of violent situations, but I don’t ever mean harm to anyone else. Even if I punish a human for something foolish or cruel, I do not kill them.] Tap-tap-tap. [Am I still a killer, then? Do I need to continue to be? Perhaps I can still bear the title ‘monster,’ but does that mean I have to fit that mold?]

Yato’s gaze averted to the ground, but after she typed her next message, she brought her good hand to his shoulder, her phantom hand clutching at the phone to display her message to him, albeit with darkness emanating about her nonexistent hand. He looked.

[Your nature doesn’t matter. You’re your own person. You don’t need to be defined by your title.]

The others were silent as Yato crossed his arms uncomfortably over his chest. In this pause, Celty slowly put her helmet back on. It was just as she had situated it properly that Yato spoke up. “You really didn’t kill Hiyori, huh?” he said. He couldn’t look at her. Not that it made much of a difference, apparently.

[I didn’t.]

“I bet… you were friends with Shizuo, weren’t you?”

She straightened, holding her phone to her chest. She didn’t have any words to display. Her hands seemed to tremble, if slightly. The darkness about her quivered.

“I figured.” He smiled wistfully. “I annoyed the crap outta him, let me tell you. Yukine and him got along real great. And I’m sure he’d get along with you, too… Ah, well, my point—it’s that Shizuo… he was a good guy. I’m glad I got to work with him. I felt horrible when he…” He trailed off, unwilling to finish.

[Thank you.] she typed.

“For what?” he asked, guarded.

She paused. [I don’t know how to put into words.]

“Just accept the damned thank you,” grumbled Minene. She sounded bored. “So are ya comin’ or not?”

“Well, it’s not that I want to stick around…” began Yato, “…but maybe it would be… safer, if I stuck around—you know, I just don’t want to die. That would suck.”

Yukiteru jumped at him, giving a joyous outcry. “I’m so glad!”

Yato grunted in pained annoyance. Akise stepped in: “Careful, Yukiteru-kun… Yato’s still healing.”

“Eh—sorry…”

“No, no!” Yato squeezed the cloaked boy about the neck, ruffling his hair. “It’s fine!” Even though now Yukiteru was wailing in protest. “I’ll take very good care to protect Yukki!”

“Don’t break him,” Minene said dully, and Yato released him.

You are one of the culprits to keep an eye on!” he said accusingly.

“Oh, be quiet!”

Celty tilted her helmet, lost.

From Rika’s arms, Kincho grunted.

It was Akise who eventually began leading all of them up the dirt path to begin their venture, wherever it led them. Minene and Yato were bickering as much as ever, while Akise, Celty, and Yukiteru kept to themselves, not too talkative. On occasion, Yukki would jump in with Minene and Yato, but that was about all. Rika was listening to everyone, smiling to herself.

Looking at the yellowish sky, Rika found herself content. It was certainly true that Yato had been on their side in previous routes. How many times had Yato been the one that fought fate from the start, striving with all his might for a happy ending? She knew for a fact that Yato was a good person at heart, even though he’d started down the wrong path in this route.

It was true, at least, that they’d never taken in Yato when he was this deep in antagonism, but then again, that was Akise’s idea, wasn’t it? And Akise didn’t exist in any other route besides this one.

Even if Akise is suspicious, she thought, at this point, I can’t necessarily say that anything’s gone wrong… In fact, he has, perhaps, taken Yato and saved him from his path of demise. A player thrown in by a game master who isn’t in favor of the game, huh, Minene? Maybe.

Kincho began to squirm in the beige hat that once belonged to Yukiteru. “Nii?” she inquired of the armadillo, and it squealed at her. Politely, she held the animal closer to the ground, and it jumped out of the hat and scurried over to Celty to climb all the way up to her shoulder. Rika watched the Dullahan go rigid in surprise, then stroke gently at its head with her index finger. Kincho grunted in approval.

Rika watched without expression. She didn’t need to wear a childish air when no one was paying her any mind. I must admit that Akise is still an anomaly, good-willed or not. Perhaps I shall bring it up to Yukiteru. He seems even closer to Akise than Minene is, so maybe he has further information in regards to his nature, or his origins, Regardless, Yukiteru should be informed of the strangeness of Akise’s situation.

“Rika; Rika!”

Rika didn’t visibly react as Hanyuu appeared to her. The others wouldn’t be able to see her, nor hear her. Rika noted that Yato faltered in his step, turning to glance back at Rika in vague confusion, perhaps suspicion. Yukiteru distracted him again pretty quickly.

Rika frowned at Hanyuu in disapproval.

“Uuu, oops…” The lavender-haired goddess twiddled her fingers, nervous. “Perhaps that god can sense when I—wait a minute! Since when is Yato here with all of you?! How dangerous is that— Isn’t that bad? Isn’t that scary?”

Rika shook her head slightly, and Hanyuu gave her characteristic wail.

“I—I know that he’s good in some routes, but isn’t he not good in others? Like—like this one?

Rika shrugged.

Rika!” Hanyuu cried. “This wasn’t your idea, was it?”

Rika nodded to Akise, and Hanyuu looked downright horrified.

“It was Akise’s plan? Oh, oh no, oh no, no, no, no… uu… uwaauaauuu…!”

Rika didn’t look concerned, nor amused. She frowned at Hanyuu and cocked an eyebrow, still not making eye contact.

“Oh, yes, I was here for a reason, th-that’s right, um…” Hanyuu paused, hovering along after their group, slowly making their way to wherever. “S-so, A-ya has killed someone else, now… It was someone from Kaneki’s group, you know? This route, Kaneki’s not an antagonist, so it’s okay. I mean—well, it’s really not okay because someone died, and it’s just really not good. Um, Izaya seems to be kind of conspiring against A-ya… but… it’s hard to actually tell, because he’s Izaya.” She rubbed at her arm uncomfortably. “I still don’t like him. Even if he is trying to do good here, somehow, I’d bet it’s for himself. Really. Even if it weren’t, I still wouldn’t like him. D-don’t laugh at me!”

Rika had taken to chuckling slightly under her breath.

“Although, apparently A-ya, Izaya, and Suzuya… all of them did do their best to help Twelve, who was mortally wounded.”

Rika’s brow furrowed slightly.

“He’s actually alright now. Rather strange. Twelve isn’t in every route, himself. For him to survive, it is surprising. I am glad; I do like Twelve.” She folded her hands together, her eyes averted from Rika. The human tilted her head slightly at the goddess, but Hanyuu only shook her head. “Twelve says some beautiful things. I like him.” She paused, and Rika waited. For Hanyuu to come back in such a rush, something far more important must have transpired. “But—there’s something else, too. Rika. Somebody else—someone else remembers all the other worlds of this game.”

This received some response: violet eyes wide, she flicked her gaze to the goddess in alarm.

“Y-yes! He is in Kaneki’s group now. His name is Shintaro, and he referred to them when speaking to Izaya. As he recalled, his eyes were red—it is true that they were reminiscent of A-ya’s eyes, but there was no such feeling of malice! This boy has the ability to remember, Rika! We need to find him and come to a plan of action; surely we can help each other!”

Rika nodded slightly, her eyes filled with sudden conviction. How interesting. Perhaps this was an intriguing route, after all. She sure was glad Izaya had stopped her from killing herself; hah!

“I can lead you to them; I can! We need to reach them as soon as possible – they are about to embark in a very risky mission, and I wouldn’t like for Shintaro to perish before we can speak with him…”

Rika continued looking straight ahead, to Yato and Minene, to Yukiteru, to Celty and Akise.

“I know, but we should bring it up to them somehow. We’ve got to meet up with them.”

Rika nodded again. With a set goal in mind, she had no reason to give up. Perhaps there was hope for this world after all.

 

Chapter 75: Threat to Life

Chapter Text

 

After the incident of Twelve’s near-death experience, the group of four left the shopping district once again to set themselves up at the edge of the western woods. Before this, Twelve had remarked upon the fact that his ‘Double Open Heart’ shirt was ruined and he was thus now shirtless. “Not to mention,” he added, “that my blue shorts aren’t really… blue anymore.” He proposed that he find himself some new clothes before they went anywhere. He ended up picking out a red t-shirt and jeans, with a yellow-beige blazer for good measure. Twelve even found a pair of glasses and asked how he looked only for A-ya to say, “Stop.” Suzuya blinked bemusedly. At least Izaya laughed.

Discarding the red spectacles, Twelve pranced along with the others with new vigor and new character design. Very exciting.

“I think my new scar kinda looks like a centipede, don’t you?” he’d ask on the way.

In regards to the items module, A-ya had taken his turn to make his selection. As he stepped up, however, the silhouette said to him, “One group at a time, please!

A-ya was confused at first, turning to look at the others only to find that all of them had backed off quite a lot. Izaya shrugged at him. Turning back to the Voice, the static figure gave him a smug smile. A-ya got it then, eyes narrowed. “That’s hardly fair,” he said.

As A-ya of Group 3 and Saeru of Group 5, I cannot accept you!

That’s bullshit,” the demon spat, and the game master began clicking their tongue in discontentment.

But the voice would not budge from their position – neither of them could receive anything from the module. What a bother—they didn’t need anything extra anyway.

A-ya now stood with his arms crossed over his chest, watching indifferently as Twelve tied A-ya’s now-red cape about his shoulders and struck a pose.

“A hero?” said Suzuya blankly.

“No. A super terrorist!” Putting his hands on his hips, Twelve laughed.

“I wonder why it became red,” remarked Izaya, sitting cross-legged on the grass at the edge of the woods.

“It used to be,” A-ya admitted, closing his eyes. I’m so tired…

You are permitted to sleep, Loner. I’m not going to slaughter your group.

Right, okay. He didn’t sound convinced.

I have no reason to, yet.

‘Yet,’ I see. But would it make a difference? My body won’t rest.

True, the serpent conceded.

“When I first activated the dark-clad hero item,” A-ya further explained, “my cape was red.”

“Ah, and the original Kuroha, too,” mused Izaya. “The android went all black and grey, didn’t he? Save for his yellow eyes, of course.”

“Then why’d it go back to red?” asked Suzuya. “You’re still possessed.”

“Something symbolic, I’m sure,” said Izaya. “Obviously A-ya-kun we still have the demon’s company. Perhaps it’s because it was draped over Twelve? Curious.”

“Existence alone, right?” asked Suzuya, peering at Twelve. “Monochrome is existence alone. Didn’t you say that?”

Twelve nodded, not saying anything. He took the cape from his shoulders, expression sobered.

“Still weird,” said Suzuya. “Existing and living… I don’t get it, still.”

“You will, sometime,” Twelve said, eyes far-off. “I’m sure you will. It doesn’t have to be today.”

“Hmm.” He didn’t seem to believe him, but that was just as well.

“If you want your cape back, you can,” the terrorist added, holding out the cape to A-ya.

The dark-clad boy blinked, then shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter. It’s just a cape. Just a dream.”

“You say that like dreams are trivial,” Twelve smiled thinly. “Did you achieve that dream, A-ya?”

A-ya thought about it. He got to be the invincible, dark-clad hero. It was only for fifteen minutes or so before he was defeated, only to be possessed by Saeru. And then what? He’d become the hero in his own right, hadn’t he? Because sometimes the good can only come from being the bad guy, right? A handsome genius – surely he’d reached that title in some way or another, even if it was partially due to Saeru’s insights. He’d earned the admiration of Yukiteru, too, hadn’t he? And how exalted he had been to earn the praise of Yukiteru! How wonderful it had felt! How fantastic!

Well, and what about a king?

The image of Roy Mustang’s damaged body in the dark came to mind… Calling Rika ‘Princess’ even though he knew it wasn’t him speaking. Was he the King of chess yet? Was he really so important? Or was he a knight? A rook? Even a pawn?

“I guess I did,” he said eventually.

Twelve smiled at him. “That’s good. Was it what you wanted?”

“I don’t know,” he said honestly, and Twelve spread his arms.

“Why, what kind of attitude is that? Seems you need to come up with a new dream, huh? That’s the only way to go!”

“I guess so,” A-ya agreed half-heartedly.

Twelve’s mouth thinned into a slyer, colder smile, his eyes narrowing. “Then, A-ya, I have a question.” He rocked back on the balls of his feet, leaning forward. “When you saved me from my predicament, you were saying something. I’m curious now. Who is C-ta?”

A-ya’s eyes darkened.

Izaya blinked, then leaned into the scene from his spot on the ground, eyes glimmering. How interesting this would be!

Confused, Suzuya looked from Izaya back to Twelve and A-ya. He began to pick at his lower lip.

“C-ta has been with me since childhood,” A-ya informed him, devoid of inflection.

Twelve cocked his head to the side. “What happened to him?”

“He…” A-ya’s eyes wandered away from Twelve. “He…” He felt ill. “He was ki…” He paused. “He died,” he said.

“I’m very sorry,” Twelve said, nodding. “I’m sure there’s quite the story involving that. I won’t ask; don’t worry. I’m just trying to piece something together. I can’t figure out why you saved me. Seeing as none of us are supposed to care about one another, and knowing that one of your goals is to thin out the players… In fact, I’ve defied you once already! For these three facts alone, I think the most logical answer for you would have been to let me die, or kill me then and there. I like to think that maybe everyone here is just a little bit delusional about how much we actually care, you know? I really shouldn’t have made it this far—for lots of reasons.”

Twelve paused, and A-ya gazed at him, listening intently.

“I do like you, A-ya. I like A-ya, sure—to have such a loveless name… to hide such leaden loneliness – you’re shut out from the world, too. I can promise you, at least, that you are not helpless.”

A-ya’s eyes widened.

“You’ve made it as far as you have, haven’t you?” Twelve smiled slightly. “Find what it is you want to leave behind. Figure out how you want people to remember you. You’re allowed to have a dream, or a wish, or whatever you want to call it. Strive for it with all your might. Savor the fun bits in between, because those are the best parts.”

He just stared at him, even as Twelve closed his eyes, smile fading.

“Be very careful in what you strive for. I mean, if it’s a real dream, there are gonna be people who try to stop you. It’s pretty sad, actually, A-ya.”

The dark-clad boy’s expression became a silent, monotonous question.

“I told you, didn’t I? I don’t understand why you saved me when I was trying to save the people that you were trying to kill. Talking to you hour by hour, your voice gets smokier and smokier. Even right now, every word you say doesn’t flicker with the scarlet it was before. It’s getting all mixed up with the colors of that snake you harbor. Surely you understand, A-ya.” Twelve’s eyes narrowed at him again. “The way things are going, if things had gotten too bad, I had planned on killing you.” He grinned at A-ya’s expression. “Not because I want to, of course—and hey!” He shrugged, spreading his arms wide. “I’ve lost all my grenades now, so for now there’s nothing I can do!” And he laughed.

As Twelve walked back over to Suzuya, A-ya looked at his hands. After some time spent in contemplation, he lowered them to his sides. He didn’t speak. There was nothing to say.


The odd conglomerate of the nine players in the city took to the hotel café after everyone took time for a nap, whether they actually slept or not. No one was really quite hungry (other than Konoha, of course), but it seemed like now was a good time to try to relax while they still could. Perhaps it would give Akira a chance to gather her feelings and place them where they needed to be. Perhaps she’d be able to reach a conclusion in the cinnamon latte that was her choice of beverage. She’d almost gone for something simpler, but when Hide had nudged her and urged her to go for something more interesting, she could only look at him with such wistful, apologetic eyes before she got the latte instead. Roppi was approving of her choice, raising his cup of iced caramel latte (sweetened thrice) in cheers. They tapped cups without expression.

Kaneki and Shirou made their way behind the counter, Kaneki making all the drinks while Shirou scavenged the back to find the necessary items to make fresh goods to eat. Somehow, all the bustle made things a little bit better. A little bit. Konoha was enthralled by the variety of goods Shirou had the ability to make, and upon Shirou’s inquiry of, “So which would you like?” Konoha answered, “Yes.”

Rin, looking annoyed as ever with her chin resting on her palm, watched Shirou work with Kaneki to serve the seven on the other side of the counter. She hoped he wouldn’t forget to get something for himself, too… which undoubtedly he’d do anyway. She sat upon a stool, her legs crossed. She was at one of those little round tables at cafés – you know, the tall ones. Grudgingly, she sipped from a milkshake that Kaneki had made her with much care. Hide sat across from her, nagging her to be more lively. Shinichi, sitting on a cushioned seat against the wall beside Hide, pointed out that perhaps it was her last chance to do so. Then it was Shinichi’s turn to be harassed by Hide’s positivity, only for the partial parasite to then be the subject of Rin’s teasing. He could only sigh.

Akira sat on the end of a couch in the far corner. No one disturbed her. Shintaro sat on the opposite end of a different couch, his head bowed. He was as isolated as Akira was.

“Shintaro-kun,” called Kaneki from behind the counter, and the hikkiNEET looked up, confused. He looked as though he’d been snapped from some deep thinking.

“Ah?”

“Which was it you preferred?” Kaneki, smiling gently, held up a bottle he’d found in the fridge. Shintaro’s eyes widened at the red label. “Coca-Cola?”

“Oh, may the gods smile upon you!” he cried, scrambling to his feet and gratefully accepting the blessed soda from the half-ghoul. Kaneki cocked his head slightly, eyes warm. Shintaro sure loved soda.

He returned to his spot on the couch, soda in hand. He gulped down the gracious liquid, eternally pleased. Praise be to soda.

“You’re disgusting, you know that?” asked Roppi dully, and Shintaro choked. The bitter one hid his snicker behind his sleeve, sitting neatly beside the NEET and crossing his legs, one over the other. Shintaro continued to try and remove soda from his lungs. “Are you dying?”

“Yes,” he choked out, and Roppi patted him on the back, looking unconcerned. “We all are.”

Roppi’s red eyes flickered in distaste. “Yeah, sure we are.” He shrugged. “Some faster than others. If you keep going like that, you’ll be dead sooner.”

Eh?” Shintaro looked at him desperately. “Is that a threat? That’s totally a threat.”

Roppi laughed a bit behind his sleeve. “Or a promise, if you want to die.”

“Um, that’s really dark.”

“You started it,” Roppi shrugged.

“I guess I did,” Shintaro sighed. There was a pleasant quiet between them for some time, if one that was touched with the dark undertones of what was to come. “So, uh… You met Seidou again, huh?” He swallowed. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought that up so quick.

“We did,” Roppi said, monotone. His eyes were dead, sleeve still to his mouth. “He was, ah, in the middle of something when we found him.”

“I see…”

“We had a coherent conversation, I guess.” Roppi shrugged. “It wasn’t really a pleasant one, but it’s not like you can’t even talk to him.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah. That doesn’t mean he’s rational by any stretch of the imagination, though.”

“O-oh, yeah. Of course.”

“I do feel guilty,” Roppi confessed.

Shintaro looked at him, but his eyes were of stone. “I think we all do,” he said quietly.

His cherry eyes closed. “I know,” he said.

“Do you believe in this idea?” asked Shintaro, tugging at the collar of his shirt. “Like, this is a big deal, you know.”

“Do your weird eyes tell you anything about it?”

“Um—no…”

“Then we’ll just have to hope so,” Roppi said firmly.

Shintaro didn’t answer at first. A wave of admiration swept over him. For Roppi to sound so sure… His eyes were filled with conviction – he didn’t seem to be faking, either. Shintaro stared at the ground, eyes distant. Roppi sure had come a long way, hadn’t he? As stubborn as he was, he’d never been so confident in himself.

Can I be confident right now? Shintaro wasn’t so sure. “Roppi, how are we even going to get close enough to stab him with that thing?” His voice was quiet.

“I’ll be the one to do it,” Roppi said matter-of-factly.

Shintaro straightened up in alarm. “But—”

“This wouldn’t have happened to Seidou if I hadn’t run off when I did. I want to fix this.”

“Well, that’s fine—but you know that it’s not—”

“—my fault? Sure, you could tell me that. It’s an arguable point.” His eyes darkened. “But so is the point that it is my fault, so either way…”

“You could die, Roppi,” Shintaro whispered to him in horror. “You’re still just a human, you know. And I… I don’t want you to die.”

The smile that touched Roppi’s lips was safely concealed behind his sleeve. “It’s okay, Shintaro. I want to do it.”

“But you…”

“This isn’t about me; it’s about Seidou.”

Shintaro didn’t have an answer.

“Besides…” Roppi turned to Shintaro, eyes expressing sorrowful appreciation. He lowered his sleeve to reveal a pained, lopsided smile. “If I do survive, Shintaro, then I’ll have earned the right to live. Isn’t that what you said? If I can save one person, then maybe I…” Roppi trailed off, then looked away. “I need to do this as much as Seidou needs me to do this. Okay? And if I don’t survive, then that’s okay, too. Not because I want to die. It’s not like that anymore. I just, at least I’d die for something good, right?”

Shintaro was about to protest, but he noticed that Roppi’s hands were trembling, his dark hair shrouding his eyes.

“And for once…” Roppi murmured, “…I really don’t think I want to die.”

The red-jerseyed boy turned his head to face forward again, his shoulders sagging. He didn’t know how to tell him that it was okay. He didn’t know how to tell him that he understood. Awkwardly, he tried patting him on the arm only for Roppi to grasp tightly to his hand with his own.

At first Shintaro thought Roppi was angry with him, but his countenance did not change, and Roppi did not release his hand. Unsure what else to do, he squeezed back.

“I’m—sorry,” Roppi uttered.

“Don’t be,” Shintaro whispered back. He felt the quivering of Roppi even through how tightly he’d gripped onto the red-jerseyed one. Shintaro sighed lightly. He could feel the swelling emotions in his friend. He had to be careful, or he might start crying.

Oh, no. Here it is. Shintaro brought his free arm to his eyes to stop the burning. No way. Definitely not the time to break down. Nope. Lowering his arm, he tilted his face to the ceiling.

He listened to the sound of an oven dinging in signal to its finish of the product. Shirou was calling out that it was all almost ready, it just needed to cool. “Konoha, you shouldn’t—!” Shintaro could help but smile a little bit at Shirou’s protest of alarm. He heard the redhead then say, “Isn’t that hot?”

Konoha’s response was, “What’s hot?”

Shintaro felt his hand get released. Roppi was back, his arms crossed over his chest like nothing had happened. “I swear to god, Konoha,” he sighed, and Shintaro gave him a half-smile even if he wasn’t looking.

As Shirou and Kaneki began handing out all the goodies on plates, Akira got to her feet. Everyone paused, looking at her. She hesitated, then stood tall. “After we’re finished with our meal, I’d like to discuss the plan – who is participating and who isn’t. I will be a participant in saving Seidou Takizawa. For now, let’s enjoy ourselves.” She accepted a croissant from Kaneki before adding, “Shall we?” She then proceeded to inform them that sandwiches would also be a wonderful idea, because she’d like everyone to be fed properly before they set out. She even stated that she wanted to implement this as soon as was possible – at the earliest, tonight.

It’s really happening, thought Shintaro. He looked at Roppi. Strangely, his friend looked content.

 

Chapter 76: Return

Chapter Text

 

As Yukiteru’s group reached the upside-down ‘Y’ in the dirt road, they paused. “That road,” said Akise contemplatively, “leads to where we came from.”

“Maybe Yato can use…?” Yukki began, but didn’t finish. …The items module, he thought. Maybe there was a reason Akise thought it better for Yato not to have that opportunity.

“The road ahead leads to the city, it looks like,” said Minene.

“I think we should head into the city, that is so,” said Rika.

Akise looked at her, interest flickering in his pink-red eyes. “Oh? Why’s that, Rika-chan?”

“I feel that it is the best way to go. Even though I’m not accustomed to the city myself, I think we may find groups there that could become a part of our alliance.”

Akise considered this, and she could almost envision his thought processes swaying. “Hm, perhaps after we do a little detour.”

“Detour?” repeated Yato dully, scratching at his head.

“Yeah, what sorta detour?” asked Minene sourly.

“Neither road,” said Akise. “Just, left.”

“Left?” repeated Yukiteru. “Why left? To…?” He thought about what there was in that area of the game field. “The only thing I can think of, um, it’s kinda the direction of where my group started, I think.”

“That is so,” agreed Rika. “Mine too.”

“Huh.” He blinked. Right, the female members had the same game area, didn’t they?

Without another word, Akise began walking that way, hands in his pockets.

“So, hey, wait!” Minene wasn’t too thrilled, though everyone began following him anyway, if in a delayed fashion. “No explanation?”

Celty shrugged in answer. [I’m sure he has some reason.]

“Yeah, yeah…,” Minene grumbled. “Detective boy being all mysterious and shit…”

“Is there any reason?” asked Yato, strangely flat.

“Sure there is,” Akise answered calmly.

“Granted, I am getting more and more pissed with this game in general,” admitted Minene bitterly. “What’s the reason for any of this, huh?”

“Maybe that doesn’t have a reason,” Yukiteru said quietly, sounding almost fearful. Akise turned his gaze to look at him out of the corner of his eye. “But, that’s all the more reason for us to have a reason to keep going, right?”

“Is it?” Yato asked skeptically.

[Something like, fighting for the memory of the fallen, perhaps?] inquired Celty.

“Yeah!” Yukiteru agreed whole-heartedly. “I mean, sure, a lot of people haven’t made it, but like, I can still fight in their honor, can’t I? For someone like—like Roy, or L, or even C-ta or Keiichi…”

Rika pricked her ears, but otherwise didn’t react. She knew that Keiichi was long dead if he wasn’t with them now. She ignored Hanyuu’s soft whimper of grief. There was nothing to be done.

“That’s bull,” Minene said lowly, and all but Akise turned to look at her in question. The silver-haired boy merely glanced backwards out of the corner of his eye. “‘Fighting in their honor,’ huh? Or making promises to the dead, doing things for their sake—it’s worthless. The present is made for the living, and to do things for the sake of people who aren’t a part of today is a waste. You just gotta keep going forward.”

“But to just disregard them…,” Yukiteru disagreed. Rika’s eyes had grown cold and distant.

“Careful, Minene-san,” said Akise easily. “There are a lot of differing opinions around you.”

“So?” She scoffed. “Everybody has to live with their own misfortunes. That’s the way the world works.”

Yato was dark and silent.

“There may also be backgrounds we may not understand, as mortals,” said Akise.

[Maybe we should stop speaking of this for now.] suggested Celty, but Yato held up a hand.

“No, Minene is right,” the god said. He’d been doing a lot of serious talk lately. “The people of the Near Shore and the people of the Far Shore aren’t meant to interact. The living should carry on without the dead, just as the dead must carry on without the living. There’s a reason that lost spirits never remember anything about their life, not even their name.” Yato’s visage was one of solemnity. “It may sound rather harsh, Minene, but you’re absolutely right. On that token, I’m someone who walks the path between the Near and Far Shores. Where does that put me, then? Hell if I know.”

Hanyuu, at Rika’s side, was uncomfortably playing with her fingers. Indeed, where would that put her? After all, she’d once been nothing more than a spirit, herself.

“Still…” Yukiteru clenched and unclenched his fists. “It just doesn’t seem right.”

Yato cocked his head at him, contemplating before he said with more warmth, “It’s not the idea that the dead are gone forever, it’s just coming to understand that the dead no longer walk the same path as you. The two worlds aren’t meant to intertwine – that’s all, Yukki.”

“What a lonely thing… Isn’t it?”

“It doesn’t have to be,” said Akise with a slight shrug.

“Mm…” Yukki didn’t think he quite believed it couldn’t be a lonely logic. Maybe he just couldn’t wrap his head around the idea of both the living and dead just moving on without each other. Ugh, putting it that way, it doesn’t sound so good, but… “I guess that means I’ll just have to save everyone,” he said firmly.

Yato stared at him blankly.

“Well, don’t wait,” Akise smiled crookedly. “I believe you can make it happen. Show me a miracle, Yukiteru-kun.”

“Ah…”

“You can’t save everyone,” Minene frowned.

“But you can try,” said Rika quietly. She liked Yukiteru. If this route didn’t permit Keiichi to be the hopeful one that could break fate, maybe he could take on that role. “Is that wrong?”

Minene was irritably quiet. Akise was smiling to himself, content. Yato didn’t know what to think, only that he didn’t wish to ponder what happens when spirits die a second time.

As twilight came upon them, they passed through the shopping district. Just beyond it was the open expanse of park land, and upon their exit of that district, they could make out the outline of the thin trees ahead. Yukiteru thought that maybe he could make out the fountain his group had first shown up at. For a moment he was excited with the familiarity, but then the same nostalgia jabbed him through the chest. Keiichi’s and C-ta’s bodies were both in that woods.

I wonder how A-ya’s doing right now.

It was around now that Rika approached him and tugged at his black robe. “Mm?” Yukiteru turned to her, blinking down at her tiny self. Granted, her height just about reached his chin, but for a ten-year-old, that was still rather petite. He thought so, anyway.

“I’d like to speak with you, that is so,” Rika smiled at him. “Would that be fine?”

“Uh, I guess so.” Yukiteru scratched at the back of his head. “Alone, or…?”

“Yes, please,” she chirped.

Shrugging, he accepted her small hand. He figured they could diverge from the path of the others and meet back up. Not too far, of course. God knows he didn’t want to be too far from the others. “Rika and I are gonna split off for a little bit,” he said to them.

[I don’t know if that’s such a good idea…] Celty shifted pace in discomfort, and Kincho grunted at her as she walked backwards, typing to Yukiteru. [What for?]

“Rika probably wants to ask him something,” Minene said uncaringly. “It’ll be fine. She just wants to be alone with him for a sec. You know – get some privacy.”

“That should be fine.” Akise stopped walking, and the others followed his example, forming a circle of discussion. He touched his chin, thinking.

[Can’t this wait until we’ve already reached our next checkpoint?] Celty asked nervously.

“Well, I don’t see why we should,” said the silver-haired one.

“I figured we could just, you know, walk parallel or something,” said Yukiteru. “We can meet up at the house near the fountain ahead. My group used that as a safe spot for the first two days.”

“That sounds fine,” Akise nodded. “Don’t take too long, though.” He smiled. “And don’t go too far, Yukiteru-kun, Rika-chan. I don’t want anything happening to either of you.”

We’ll be fine, though,” Minene smirked. “We’ve got Celty on our side.” The Dullahan grew comically sheepish at the compliment.

“And Yato, that is so,” Rika chirped.

“Doesn’t he need a weapon?” Minene asked cynically.

“Gods are strong without their weapons,” Yato sniffed, crossing his arms. “It’s not like I’m useless.”

“You’re also injured.”

“I could rip the ground apart if I wanted to!”

“So could I!” she snapped. “Ever heard of a bomb?

“No need to react so explosively,” he scoffed, and she ground her teeth.

Yukiteru laughed, good-natured. “Yato-san, please don’t harass Minene-san too much.”

“Why would I do that?”

“I hate you,” she informed the god flatly.

“Rude!” Yato cried. “Isn’t that a bit blunt?”

“I’ll see you soon,” Akise said warmly, gently touching Yukiteru’s shoulder.

“Nii,” Rika beamed. “See you, everyone!” She gave a nod to Minene before taking Yukiteru along with her to the right. The others kept walking. Soon enough, they were all going in the same direction again.

Watching Akise, Minene, Celty, and Yato walk along far to their left, Yukiteru asked her, “Now, what’s this about? Really.” He was running through all the possibilities in his head, and the most likely one seemed to be some kind of inquiry about A-ya. Apparently Rika had watched A-ya kill Roy. Well, it was the demon—the demon killed Roy-san, not A-ya. Still…

“It’s about Akise.”

Yukiteru blinked, thrown off-guard. Akise? “What about him?” He was utterly lost—and what a serious tone she was using! For a ten-year-old it was just a little bit unsettling. “I know he seems a little bit shady, but he’s actually very nice.”

“Are you aware of the mysteries surrounding his arrival?” she asked him.

“Um, no?” Even though he peered at her in question, she did not look back up to him. He felt somehow intimidated, and so reminded himself that someone didn’t need to be innocent or naïve just because they were young. After all, Yukiteru had almost been murdered by a five-year-old. He really hoped Rika wasn’t like that.

“It’s apparently the case that Akise appeared to Izaya, Twelve, and Suzuya when they were approaching the items pillar in the other household to the south. He had papers of information on every player, and also had his blue investigator’s notebook on hand, which has more info than yet we know. He isn’t of any known group; he has no number. The items pillar does not work for him; he has no weapon. Yukiteru, what do you think of these things?”

Yukiteru blinked a few times, then took pause as he pondered. He began to laugh.

“What is it that’s funny?” she inquired, still using that new, unsettling voice.

“See, it wouldn’t make sense any other way,” Yukiteru told her honestly. “Akise’s a suspicious guy, but he’s really just doing his best to take care of everyone else; I know it. It’s funny, because he wasn’t a part of the battle royal that I got caught up in back home, and yet he still somehow got himself involved. He convinced us that he was a part of the game himself—convinced us he could tell the future when really, he was just bluffing!” He released a bark of laughter. “Actually, he’s really cool. He believes in me, too. I’m thankful for that, because I know I can’t always do it for myself.” Yukiteru looked off to the woods, brow furrowed. “And because of that I don’t want to doubt him. I don’t think I have the capacity to doubt him. I want to believe in him, too.” He looked happily to Rika, who was staring up at him in rapt attention. “You should too, Rika-chan.”

“If I remember correctly…” Rika said slowly, “…you did not remember Akise until that ‘timekeeper,’ a game master, granted you those memories. Isn’t that correct?”

“I mean, I guess so…” Yukiteru faltered momentarily, then argued, “But Minene-san knew him beforehand, too! So it’s not like that timekeeper guy just made him up.”

“I have one other thing that I find to be of importance to tell you.”

“Eh?” Yukiteru looked at her with some worry.

“Yukiteru, there are parallels to this game in more than the sense of the female counterpart. This isn’t the first time this game has occurred.”

“It isn’t, then?” Yukiteru asked blankly. “I mean, I knew that you could reset it, but…”

“So you knew that much?” She appeared to think hard on this.

“Yeah, I knew it was possible to restart the game,” Yukki admitted, “and actually, I had the option to, once. I just, um, didn’t know whether it would make a difference. So I didn’t do it. Do you know whether…?”

“There are slight variations to every game, but no outcome thus far has been desirable,” Rika informed him.

“Oh…”

“What I’d like to tell you,” she continued, “is that your friend Akise has not been in a single other route besides this one.”

“Really?” He rubbed at the back of his head. “How weird. I wonder why.” He paused. “But that means that surely we’re on the right track!” He looked to the ten-year-old in utmost hope. “Because if it’s never worked before… When you throw Akise in, then I know that we can figure this out, together!”

“I hope that is the case.” Rika was solemn. “I’ve already discussed this with Minene. From what I gather, he is the type of boy who can break fate—and he appears to believe the same of you, Yukiteru. That is a very precious ability. I know that Akise is someone that shouldn’t be here. He is a piece that does not fit in the puzzle… Whether that works for us or against us remains to be seen, but I do hope that it is the former rather than the latter, that is so.”

“It’ll turn out alright in the end,” Yukki assured her. “I’m sure of it.”

Her old eyes looked at him, fatigued. “I want to believe you.” Her tone was one of sincerity.

A not-so-distant crash caught their attention, and they both turned to view the source: a flash of red lightning caught their eyes just beyond a patch of trees to the north.

“That’s…” Yukiteru’s eyes widened. “It’s got to be…”

“Yukiteru, we should return to the others,” Rika said firmly, but Yukiteru had already started walking in the direction of the flash. “Yukiteru,” she repeated, and he stopped, turning to her.

“Akise said it, too – that I shouldn’t wait.”

“We should bring the others with us, then.”

“It’s A-ya,” Yukki insisted. “I’d know him better than they would, anyway—and I want to show him that it’s okay, okay? What if he’s in trouble? It’s you who should return to the others. We’re still really close to them – will you be fine meeting up with them over there? Or should I take you back, first?”

“That’s not—I’d be fine,” she said, “but you—”

“After all,” he said, “I didn’t stop him from running off in the first place.” He flashed her a grin. “If I’m gonna save everyone, I have to actually start doing it, you know! If I don’t, somebody else could die, right?”

“But Yukiteru—”

“Have a little confidence!” He turned and began to run towards where surely he’d find A-ya.

Yukiteru!” she snapped. Her urgency struck him, but he kept going. “If you go to meet him now, you’ll—” She shook her head, mustering up all her inner willpower. “If you go, you’ll likely die!”

The dark-cloaked boy only laughed at her. “It’s not like I haven’t broken fate before!” he called, and began to hover, then fly towards his destination.

Staring after him incredulously, Rika could only be silent in her own form of helplessness. I am sick and tired of this repeating cycle, she thought, and began to run after him as fast as her little legs would carry her.


They had moved again. A-ya’s group had begun moving again in eerie silence up until the point where they came across the collection of large rocks that they had slept amongst back when their groups had been a conglomerate—back when Roy was alive, and A-ya and Yukiteru had been together.

Here A-ya stopped, sitting on one of the rocks without a word. The others looked at one another and did not question the decision. Perhaps this was another short break, or perhaps this was the resting place for the night. None of them knew, but they supposed they’d find out.

It was A-ya who was left out from conversation this time as Twelve, Suzuya, and Izaya all partook in some odd conversation about food. Twelve began by remarking upon the beauty of its simple pleasures. Suzuya found himself actually understanding where Twelve was coming from in saying that once upon a time, food was just necessity. The fact that it was something beyond that now was beautiful alone. Suzuya had to add on by saying that sweets were wonderful, whereon Izaya piped in that he liked bitter better. At Suzuya’s blank stare, Izaya went into an excitable state as he happily explained that one could analyze a person just by the kind of foods they liked. How very exciting!

A-ya sat alone on his rock, not really paying the three on the ground any mind. His consciousness was static, hazing in and out. For a moment he saw things in vivid color, details engraving themselves in his head. The recurring theme was red. But upon a return to clarity, he sensed only the thick black. Distantly, he wondered whether he would ever really sleep again. Less distantly, he contemplated the reality that Twelve had admitted to his plan to kill A-ya as if it were nothing. Just your friendly neighborhood terrorist, causing a casual conspiracy here.

But why should A-ya be surprised? When A-ya could see Twelve for the admirable person that he surely was, why wouldn’t Twelve be planning A-ya’s demise? With these dirty hands, there was no wonder. Perhaps it was A-ya who was naïve.

Of course you’re being foolish, said the serpent. You act as though you and them are a part of a group together, when the only road for you from here is one you’ll walk alone.

It was as if the demon thought he didn’t know it already.

Really. If you know it so well, why are you so put out by Twelve’s honest statement of his planned attempt on your life? You chose this path knowing what it was you were giving up.

A-ya wished he would be quiet—just for a moment. That’s all.

I’m only pointing out the truth to you.

I know it.

If you know it, why won’t you acknowledge it?

Who says I’m not acknowledging it; you’re not acknowledging it. It’s that shut-down again, isn’t it? Maybe I don’t want to look at the truth of what you’re doing? They’ll try to kill you. They’ll try to kill me. It’s not as though you can trust them. It’s not as though I…

…Stop it. Stop that.

What’s that?

Stop telling me things I know already.

Why, when you—?

It’s too boring.

When had he curled forward the way he was now? When had he brought his hands to his face?

You’re afraid, said the serpent.

A-ya couldn’t help but agree.

There’s no turning back now, Loner… Yet even as the serpent expected pleasure for tormenting his master, A-ya’s body began to tremble in its fetal position.

Are you—joking?

The snake didn’t know what to make of it. A-ya was holding back laughter.

Why would I turn back now but to begin anew? This fear is even more potent than it’s been since the beginning of this damned game—amazing! How couldn’t I long for this richness? This terrifying pleasantry? It’s the best thing I could ever feel!

There was a hand at his shoulder. Immediately, A-ya jerked away from the touch and whipped his head to look at the culprit. Izaya was smiling, overly sweet in what was surely mock apology. “I didn’t mean to startle you, A-ya-kun,” he said, and A-ya’s eyes flickered darkly.

Don’t touch me,” he said. Well, they.

Izaya held his hands up in the air in a show of peace, grinning wide with eyes mere slits, almost closed. “My, my, terribly sorry! I see that you’re in a bit of a state. Should I perhaps wait until later to snap you out of it? Or would you mind a few unpleasantries? I’d love to chat with you, A-ya-kun!”

“Chat with me,” A-ya repeated, then smiled disconcertingly. Izaya ignored the chill down his back. “What a great idea, Izaya-san. Let’s talk for a bit.

“Ah, wonderful!” The informant clapped his hands together. “No need to be so irritable about it. Although, I would like to warn you, A-ya-kun, Twelve did have a bit of a point.” He shrugged. “Maybe it’s inevitable, but I wouldn’t like for A-ya-kun to be consumed by the demon… But if that were to happen, I guess that would just mean A-ya’s lost that battle, wouldn’t you say? If it’s a battle at all, which it seems to be. Curious.” His smile was thin as ever. “But A-ya-kun, in inviting a monster into yourself—be wary, or else you may become a monster, too.”

A-ya’s eyes were alight with amusement. Before Izaya could put together how the boy had reacted, his cold hand was at the informant’s throat. The younger pulled Izaya down closer to his height, making him stagger. Instinctively, Izaya had pulled his knife, pointing it at the black sweater vest that the other sported. A-ya smiled at him. Izaya frowned back, one hand to the wrist of A-ya. It wasn’t as though the dark-clad demon was strangling him, just gripping him in a position that could leave him without an esophagus.

From behind their rock, Suzuya and Twelve poked their heads up, eyes peering over it to see what was happening.

You speak of monsters,” they said lowly. “You fit that very mold yourself, don’t you? Everyone here – monsters, right?” A-ya’s hand tightened at Izaya’s jaw, and the informant’s eyes narrowed. He looked bothered enough to want to break free of his grip, but he was also smart enough not to try. “Isn’t it wonderful?” A-ya grinned. “To be a monster?

“Is it?” whispered Suzuya to Twelve.

“Shh,” Twelve hushed him.

A-ya released Izaya, and the information broker immediately straightened, looking annoyed as he rubbed at his throat. “You speak as though monsters are such terrible things.

“Your words have merit, A-ya-kun,” Izaya conceded, tone taut. “But I see you’re acting a little bit impulsive, aren’t we?”

I wouldn’t be too sure.

“A-ya-kun,” Izaya began, but it was A-ya alone who cut him off.

“Don’t,” he said. They stared at one another for some time. Izaya watched those serpentine eyes, flickering with something feverish. He tried to see whether he could make out A-ya somewhere in those scarlet orbs, but wasn’t so sure what he saw there. Izaya almost began to smile, but A-ya beat him to it, cocking his head and beginning to titter at him. Instead, the informant found himself frowning once again. Casually, he flicked his blade back into its hilt before putting it back in his pocket where it belonged. He was quiet, raising his eyebrows in question to the apparently amused one before him.

“It’s the only way it can be, isn’t it, Izaya?” That odd shine, yes, that could be A-ya hiding in the glimmering light of hysteria. “I decided, anyway – my dream is to start this over again! It’s not like you don’t have a reason to do it, too. I know that you can say something like—like calling me a monster, but really, what’s the difference? When who lives or dies in this game doesn’t really matter?”

“If it didn’t matter,” pointed out Izaya, “then why did you spare Twelve?”

“Because I’m still human somewhere,” A-ya answered coldly. “And I don’t want to hear it from you, anyway.” He gave another laugh bordering on mania. “Besides, it’s not like we don’t know that you’ve got your own motives, too, right, Izaya?”

“A-ya-kun,” Izaya insisted, “personal motives or not, do you really think—?”

“SHUT UP!” At the outburst, crimson lightning crackled through the clearing, charring the ground at Izaya’s feet. The informant was stone-faced, unfazed.

“Whoops,” whispered Suzuya. Twelve pressed his hand to the rock in front of him, using his arm as leverage as he jumped over it and approached. “Huh? Twe…?”

“Calm down, A-ya-kun.” Izaya widened his stance, cautiously bringing a hand to the hilt of the Prophet. “There’s no reason to act so rashly, now.”

Why? Because you don’t want to die?” they inquired sneeringly, and A-ya scoffed. “What’s the point of cherishing such a thing? Fearing such a thing? And how stupid we are, to still be sad over something like losing someone else.”

He stopped. Twelve came upon him with a sudden embrace of amnesty. A-ya could do nothing but freeze in place.

Still guarded, Izaya cautiously released the hilt of the Prophet, tilting his head and smiling crookedly. “Hah?”

“Hey, A-ya,” said Twelve to the smaller one in his arms. He paid no mind to the confused Suzuya, now crouching on the rock they’d been beside. “Every little thing I’ve said is true. I’d really planned to end you if it really came down to it – but do I think I’d actually be able to do it? Honestly not. I think I’d just stick around ‘til the end. It’s not like I’m actually needed by anyone in this world. What better way to spend my time with my favorite jerk, Izaya;” – Izaya cocked an eyebrow, humored – “…or my partner-of-circumstance, Suzuya; or the possessed kid that saved my life?” Twelve laughed at the words coming out of his own mouth. “Yeah, you could even kill me right now, as I hug you. But that wouldn’t make a difference to me, either. I’m aware of my mortality; trust me. We make this so complicated, but only because it’s more interesting that way. I wasn’t kidding when I said I’d love to just exist together. We don’t need conflict unless we make it, right? A-ya, no matter what happens, there is one thing that is, was, and always will be. This thing will last you and I and everyone else through even the darkest of winters. This thing is called ‘hope.’ Because even if ‘love’ is dead, hope can never die. It’s a cycle of rebirth; you cannot get rid of hope. I promise you that.”

A-ya found himself trembling again. Ah, the recurring theme of his helplessness. Oh, A-ya, you’re so helpless, he’d say… Though Twelve wasn’t like C-ta in that way. What was A-ya to make of that? And why should it matter now, anyway?

He smelled summertime. “Get off,” he said flatly. Softly. Twelve let go of him with a chuckle, and Suzuya began to snicker.

“A-ya is too spooky for Izaya, hehe,” said the CCG officer.

“Oh, hardly,” said Izaya.

Suzuya proceeded to wiggle his fingers at the informant. “He’s gonna eat up your eyeballs and swallow up your brain – gonna tear you up and put you back together; gonna take your soul.

“Ah,” Izaya was deadpan. “Stop.”

“I don’t think it quite works like that,” A-ya added, rubbing at the back of his head with dull expression.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s not so leisurely as that!” laughed Twelve. “It’s more like just, suddenly – boom! The end!”

“The end!” Suzuya agreed happily.

“How dark you’re being, heh?” Izaya sighed.

“We’re in a little bit of a dark situation, though, heh?” A-ya answered him.

The informant looked at him – although the visage of him was still without expression, he saw the glitter of A-ya’s dark humor in his red eyes. Izaya couldn’t help but crack a cruel grin, laughing in that harsh way of his. “There you are! There you are!”

“There, there!” Suzuya piped in.

“Don’t underestimate humans,” said Twelve with a sly smile, “just because demons are more interesting at first glance.”

“Right?” grinned the albino, and Izaya and A-ya looked at one another. They were practically glowing.

“That…” Izaya’s mouth spread into that terrible grin he once wore hourly. “That’s absolutely right! How could I forget?” Indeed, he’d been so caught up in all of the wonders and horrors of ghouls and demons and gods and parasites and monsters in general that he’d nearly forgotten the joys of humanity itself!

Just as A-ya and Izaya had both reached the point of utmost obsessive delight (although A-ya enacted this in a much more contained and expressionless way), Suzuya turned to quickly look to the woods, his eyes just slightly wider than they were usually. They all paused. A-ya, too, looked to the woods. The crackling of an occasional twig, a quick and successive sound that sounded as though someone was hurrying their way here. It took less than a second for Suzuya to have his scythe at the ready, A-ya and Izaya ready to fight, Izaya with his hand to the hilt of the Prophet.

Above the trees, the black-cloaked figure of Yukiteru arose. A-ya saw him first and recognized him immediately. Seemed like Yukki had decided it was easier to go above the trees than through them, peering around to try and find presumably A-ya himself.

“Lay down your scythe,” A-ya told Suzuya flatly, and the albino lowered it slightly, looking disappointed.

“Hah, it’s Yukiteru-kun, is it?” A-ya disregarded the smooth, entertained tone of Izaya.

“I’d like to go meet him alone. That is all I ask,” he said, and Twelve saluted him.

“Sounds good!”

“Boring,” remarked Suzuya.

“I have to agree with Suzu-chan, this time,” said Izaya.

“Oh, be quiet for once,” A-ya said with oddly good nature. A slight smile touched his mouth. “I’m sure you’ll have much more fun hearing the news after the fact, Izaya.” He looked at Twelve, and paused. “Thank you,” he added with a note of awkwardness, and he sped off through the trees without anything else.

“Ah, A-ya,” sighed Twelve with a smile.

Izaya shrugged. “I suppose he isn’t wrong,” he conceded.

“Worthless,” said Suzuya, thwacking Izaya on the head with the butt of his scythe.

“Eh?”

Twelve laughed. Suzuya found himself grinning along with him.

 

Chapter 77: Meet

Chapter Text

 

“Ah, this must have been the starting point for the orange groups,” remarked Minene, scuffing the orange circle on the ground with her boot. She, Celty, Akise, and Yato (and Kincho!) were standing before the water fountain now. Once upon a time, A-ya and Yukiteru had watched the stars together here. By now the four slips of paper with everyone’s names had run with the rain. Minene eyed one of them, now sunken to the bottom of the fountain water. “Wonder what number that was.”

“Group 3, I do believe,” remarked Akise thoughtfully, looking at their surroundings. “A nice little haven here. I can understand why Yukiteru’s group stuck around as long as they did.”

[There are residential houses nearby, too.] added Celty.

Yato gazed at the houses not too far off, and at the park trails leading further into the woods. He’d never much explored this particular area, so it was new to him. A residential area here, huh? The suburbs up north were far closer together, many houses alike, all up close and snug with one another. Of course he’d demolished his fair share of houses there—and hadn’t that been when Saeru had reawakened? He supposed so.  He wondered what Yukiteru would think about the matter if he put together the fact that A-ya had possibly gotten possessed because of Yato. How messed up was that? He, a god, had brought on possession? What a joke.

And what a joke this game was – really. Even if he were to leave this group, the end result would be his own demise. He’d learned it himself that when you try to kill people, it only works one at a time. Very inconvenient and time-consuming, and it had almost gotten him killed. He was more accustomed to being able to slaughter whole villages at a time—he could attest to how much more satisfying that was; and much easier to desensitize from.

His thoughts almost began to ponder what Yukine or Hiyori might say about his more recent choices, but almost immediately he skirted around such ideas. He didn’t want to think about it. Besides, what was the point? It’s not like they could find out, anyway.

What a hollow feeling this was.

[Yukiteru and Rika are taking a while…]

“Don’t be so nervous,” Minene waved off the Dullahan. “Really, they’ll be fine. Don’t underestimate my girl Rika; she can be pretty badass if she needs to be.”

Pocketing his hands, Akise smiled warmly at the terrorist. “I find it wonderful that you’ve bonded with a child, Minene-san.”

“Oh, shut up, detective boy.”

“I’m rather curious how that came about,” he admitted, “but I won’t pry.”

“It’s not like I’d actually be surprised if something too terrible happened to them just now,” she scoffed, crossing her arms over chest. “In this game it’s good to have some alliances going on, but to get too attached is a mistake. This game is designed to take lives. Hell, it’s the same thing in real life, too.”

“Oh?” Akise seemed unconcerned with her logic.

“Yeah,” she scowled. “Life is hell. There’s a reason I became a terrorist, Akise.”

“I understand that perfectly well,” he said calmly.

[Can you really say that life is hell?] inquired the Dullahan.

“Of course I can. Anyone who hasn’t experienced suffering is just deluding themselves. There’s a reason people say that ignorance is bliss, but goddamn, those are the people that piss me off the most.”

[The world isn’t as bad as you think.] A statement made with warm conviction.

Liar. It was the first answer that came to the god.

Minene stared at the words on her screen, her mouth downturned. “I beg to differ,” she said coldly. “Take the things you’re so fond of and imagine them being stolen from you. What does that make?”

A long pause. [I can’t say I know.]

A Dullahan, huh? thought Yato, detached. A Shinigami of sorts; a death god. What would you do in such a situation of despair, Celty? Isn’t it true that you, too, are still a Dullahan at heart? While I…

“Regardless of all of the inevitable suffering in this world,” Akise shrugged, “I like to think that I enjoy my existence. If it’s the past that plagues you, then just remember that if the past makes your present, then your present makes your future. Seeing as we have every ability to control our present, why can’t we change something as fickle and unassured as the future? We can make it whatever we like it to be, if we so wished.” He held up his index finger, smiling that sly smile of his. “Even if there are dark and twisted things that we all dread; even if there is sin, isn’t it also true that there are virtues? Aren’t there beautiful things to counteract the terrible? For every seed of hatred planted, there is surely someone who has learned the meaning of ‘love.’ For every liar, there’s surely someone who seeks Truth. Death and life come in the same package, just like hope and despair; war and peace; good and evil. Really, what the world looks like just depends on perspective, to me.”

If the present makes the future? repeated Yato. But what does the future look like anymore?

Minene scoffed, unmoved. “Then how come some people get the short end of the stick? How come some people are stuck with only sin? How fair is that?”

Akise closed his eyes. “I never said that the world was just.”

[I understand exactly what you mean, Akise. Thank you for putting it into words.]

“Ah, no need to thank me.”

“Augh, bullshit,” Minene huffed, rolling her single eye.

Something like sin doesn’t matter to me, anyway, thought Yato grimly. I punish sin; I cannot do wrong. So why feel so bad?  He rubbed at his forehead, head bowed. Good and evil means nothing to me. Sins and virtues mean nothing. Hope and despair? War and peace? Life, and death…

“In any case,” said Akise, “we should probably head to the house Yukiteru-kun mentioned. It seems it may rain, and I’m sure they’ll be back soon.” Touching his chin, he began to chuckle. “I hope he doesn’t do anything too rash.”

[I sure hope not.] A more frantic tapping. [I don’t want him getting hurt.]

“Oh, no. Don’t misunderstand, Celty-san. I trust that Yukiteru-kun won’t get himself killed. I also trust that he won’t leave us behind.”

Minene released a bark of laughter. “If there’s anything that I can believe about that kid, I can at least give him that. Ya just can’t kill the kid; Rika’s the same way, somehow. He just ain’t gonna give up.”

Looking between Minene and Akise, Celty seemed at least slightly assured by their confidence. It occurred to her that perhaps Yukiteru and Rika deserved a little more merit, and she relaxed. Just because they were younger and seemed normal at first glance, she knew that they were just as abnormal as anyone else she’d ever known well. How could she have thought anything less, when ‘abnormality’ was her ‘normal’?

As they walked towards the small collection of houses beyond, Yato found himself lagging behind detachedly. A Dullahan, he repeated in his head. For what reason did they need to die?

Kincho began pawing restlessly at Celty’s shoulder, grunting at her in distress. She attempted to calm the armadillo down with pets, but to no avail. She stopped walking, and everyone else followed suit.

“What does that damned armadillo want?” growled Minene, and Celty gave a flustered gesture in indication that she didn’t know.

“Oh, my,” said Akise as Kincho bounded off of Celty’s shoulder, through the air, and onto the grass. He squealed at them, much to their confusion. All four of them watched Kincho struggle to explain something that no one could understand, grunting a few more times, sniffing the ground, and then skittering forward towards the very houses that were their destination.

“What the hell?” Minene scratched at her purple-haired head.

“Perhaps we should follow,” said Akise.

Celty nodded her helmet in confirmation before they all hurried after the armadillo with all their curious confusion in tow.


They met one another above the forest. A-ya climbed a tree beneath Yukiteru, jumping into the air with the branch he’d pushed off from vibrating in protest, or perhaps fear. “Hey,” said the dark-clad hero rising before his friend, and they seemed to hover there, suspended in a moment.

Yukiteru’s blue eyes widened. “A-ya—”

“I can’t fly, you know,” he said, and went down again, landing easily on a branch below before jumping to the forest floor beneath him, knees bent to take impact more easily. Yukiteru descended slowly, landing with gentle grace. A-ya righted himself, straightening his legs and shifting his weight casually to one side. For what seemed like a few minutes, at least, neither of them spoke.

“Your cape’s gone,” Yukiteru said finally, and A-ya furrowed his brow. Yukki swallowed.

“Uh… yeah.”

“Not that it’s any less cool,” Yukiteru added quickly. “You still look really super awesome, not that you ever—oh, this is totally not how planned this going.” He hung his head in despair.

A-ya’s laughter rang in his ears; what a pleasant sound! Delight stirred, and Yukiteru raised his head, smiling awkwardly. Would this be alright, after all?

“I’m glad,” said A-ya, “that talking to you is the same mundane thing.”

He squinted at his dark-clad friend. “That wasn’t sarcasm… right?”

“No,” A-ya assured him, closing his eyes. “It really wasn’t.” He took a deep breath. “After all, that was I’d wished for most that night, right?”

Recognition flickered in those blue orbs, visions flickering of hands held on rooftops, the stars making their twinkling rotation above them. “A-ya, I’m really happy that I got to see the stars with you.”

“Me too,” A-ya agreed.

Yukiteru smiled, the warmth of optimism was beginning to set his eyes alight despite the continued awkwardness of their interaction. “So—are things well?”

“Mostly,” A-ya answered cautiously.

“That’s—good! I think.” He paused. “Everyone on my end’s fine too,” he added. “I think it would be—wonderful if, maybe…”

“We’re not reforming as a group,” A-ya told him, his tone dropping into deadness. “It’s too late for something like that.”

“It’s never too late for anything like that!” Yukiteru assured him, spreading his arms. “We’d all be happy if you came back! Twelve and Suzuya, too! And—probably Izaya. Well…” He averted his eyes with a furrowed brow, thinking on that statement. “I don’t know so much about Izaya, but we’d work it out, I’m sure.”

“Yukiteru, don’t you understand? What I’m trying to do…”

“What’s that, reset?” Yukiteru took a step forward. “We don’t need that! See, it’s okay, because we know how to end the game, right? It takes the cooperation of everyone on the playing field, so… And Celty; she’s met Aureus! I’ve seen her without her helmet – she really doesn’t have a head—you’ve gotta see it.”

A-ya flinched. “I’m resetting the game,” he said softly.

“Well, I’m ending it,” Yukiteru said firmly. “Why do we need to reset it if we can end it for good? What’s the point of reliving this terrible game? You know, I just found out that we’ve played this all before, over and over and over again. It’s not like it ever changes much.”

“And I’ve told you,” A-ya said flatly, “that I wouldn’t mind doing it all again, all the same way.”

Why?” A frustrated and befuddled inquiry. “How could you not mind?”

“Don’t you get it, Yukiteru? What is there waiting for us beyond this game?” A-ya raised his palms to the sky, shrugging with arms wide apart. His own eyes were despairing. “There is no future.”

“Sure there is!” Yukiteru cried. “What makes you think that—?”

“This game is fake, remember?” A pause. “Nothing here is reality. Everything is nothing more than a dream. We’re just acting out the parts in a play. Somewhere, somehow, we’re carrying on with our normal lives. And because of that, there’s nowhere to go if we end the game. With the end of the game comes the end of us…” He bowed his head. “And I don’t want to return to a world where none of this happened, either. I don’t care if none of it changes – I want to lie next to you and tell you about Mearry-san. I want you to tell me about Deus ex Machina – over, and over, and over again. I want you to tell me about the stars, and I want to feel like maybe I’m not alone after all. I want to be with you – I don’t want it to be like we’ve never met. I want C-ta at my side again – yeah, I don’t care if he tries to kill me, even! I want him to make me feel worthless, useless, helpless! I want Keiichi to try to end me; I want to feel exactly what it’s like to have somebody to cling to when I’ve lost everything that I once held close to me!” A-ya looked at him, eyes quivering in their sockets. “I don’t want to lose you, Yukiteru. And this feeling of longing; the fear that’s twisting up my insides right now… It’s the most vivid thing I’ve ever felt.”

Yukiteru didn’t know what to say at first, his hands clutching themselves at his chest. “A-ya…”

He tilted his head, his expression welling with desperation. “I don’t want all of this to have never happened. I want it to continue being real. I want it to happen—as many times as it has to. Is that so wrong?”

The cloaked boy thought about it. “It’s not that it’s wrong, A-ya. But if you want to be with me… if you don’t want to lose me, then why are you so far away? How does that make any kind of sense?”

A-ya blinked at him, shocked. “That’s right.” The dark-clad one took a step forward. “That’s exactly right! Why don’t you try to reset this with me? It’s not like you don’t miss the beginning, yourself. I’m sure that there are things you want to fix, and I’m sure you don’t want to go back as if this never happened, right?”

“I mean, you’re right, kinda, but…” Yukiteru shifted from one bare foot to the other. “What’s the point if we won’t remember? Would it be any better the next time? I’d be happy just having had time with you at all, A-ya. And who says we have to go back home as if nothing happened?” He offered a weak smile. “It’s true that I told you that you’re my first friend, and under the circumstances of this game, that’s the truth. You’re my best friend, too, and I don’t want to lose you, either. So…”

“Then we can go back to the beginning together, can’t we? That’s all I want!”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea, A-ya.”

“Why not?” A-ya pressed. “Why don’t you think it’s such a good idea?”

“How can it be when it requires you getting possessed?” Yukiteru cried. “Look, I’m sure we can work out the whole possessed-by-a-demon thing, but we don’t need to hit the reset button just because things haven’t gone well so far. There are still people we could save – there are still people that can make it! And I’m sure that the end isn’t so grim as you make it out to be, A-ya. Even if it’s undesirable, we’ll show the game masters who’s boss, and we’ll make a happy ending! Okay?”

A-ya stared at him with flat eyes. Yukki’s arguments seemed to evade him. The dark-clad hero tilted his head slightly to the opposite side, face devoid of expression. His eyes flickered. “Ahh, I wonder why. Maybe…?”

“Okay, A-ya, when you that double voice thing, it’s still kinda creepy,” Yukiteru said nervously.

It is true that you haven’t lost them yet,” they commented. “When for me… C-ta… B-ko… There was Roy…” He brought his hands to his face.

“A-ya,” Yukiteru began, empathetic.

So then, if I kill him, you will understand.

What?

“W-wait…”

“You know.” A-ya lowered his hands just enough for his glowing red eyes to show. “Surely if you lose Akise, you’ll understand how I feel, right? If he were dead, you’d want to go back to the beginning for sure. Wouldn’t you? Wouldn’t you? Yes, I’m sure you would. And then…

“A-ya, I really think that that demon guy is giving you some really bad ideas,” Yukiteru said slowly, taking an unconscious step back.

His dark-clad friend only grinned at him. “Then you and I really can be together, can’t we?

A-ya! You’re spouting the same crazy stuff that C-ta would!” Yukiteru argued in nervous exasperation. “Do you really think that would make me want to be on your side if you killed my friend? What the hell?!”

“All you need to do is understand that if the game is fake, he’s really not dead! No one is—not Keiichi, not Sebastian or Migi, not Roy or L, not C-ta!” He tittered madly. “If we go back, all of them will be alive, so it’s okay, right?”

“I really don’t think it would be,” Yukiteru refused, shaking his head.

“Hey, Yukiteru… That’s the whole reason that I separated myself from everyone else, you know? This is the very reason you and I can’t be beside one another.”

“And why does it have to be like that? We don’t need to…”

“Then join me, why don’t you? This game is a fairytale, so dance in my dream with me.” His face contorted into an eerie smile. “Nothing would make me happier.” At this statement, A-ya charged.

It began to rain. Yukiteru noticed a drop land on his cheek from the cover of the leaves above. Then he was in the up-above, gliding through the air to avoid A-ya’s first attack.

I don’t want to fight you, you know,” they said, then snickered. “It’s against my little Master’s orders,” added a voice that gave Yukiteru chills.

“Then we can work through this! You know?”

They laughed. I need to drive him away for now, thought A-ya, or else show him what I truly feel. I want, want, want, want, want him to be on my side, at my side, be at his side, I want it, I…

Yes, that’s right, find the feelings and express them, why don’t you? What is it that you feel for him?

I want to see him, again and again, I want to not be alone, I don’t—want to hurt him…

So if you want him at your side, if it’s true that you

Love him. I love him like I loved C-ta.

They burst through the leaves above them, just as A-ya was about to tackle him back to earth, Yukiteru gave a stammering apology as he sent his friend to the ground of the field beyond. A-ya felt the weight of gravity heavy at his chest. He struggled to raise himself from the influence of Yukiteru’s ability.

If you want him at your side… if you truly want to save him, then use that monstrous power, why don’t you? Don’t hold back too much, or he’ll best you.

Yukiteru’s eyes were shining as he approached the weighted A-ya, staggering to his feet. “I’m not going to let you reset the game, and I’m not going to let you die, either. No matter what you do or say, I know, somehow – I’ll make it alright! You got it, A-ya? No matter how much you fear the future, I’ll make our future, and you know what? I’ll meet you there.” His expression broke into a somewhat sad smile as he released A-ya from the extra gravity. “Wherever we are, whoever we are, remember me, okay? I’ll be at your side in that future; promise!”

And the past…” A-ya lunged at him only for Yukiteru to bound into the air, flying at high speeds. “is our future!” A-ya knew that he couldn’t fly like Yukiteru could. While he still had time, he grabbed at Yukiteru’s cloak and pulled him down. “Let’s live together in the next world, in the next and the next and the next!” Eyes flashing crimson, A-ya kicked Yukiteru downwards with a pulse of red lightning that paralyzed him long enough that the cloaked one couldn’t manage to utilize his gravitational abilities in time.

The earth shuddered as Yukiteru plummeted into the ground beneath him, buried in a crater that he could not comprehend was something his own body had made. He tried to get up only to collapse again. He began to cough, struggling for air as though only now did his windedness catch up with him – he’d hit the ground too fast to worry about something like air.

A-ya landed at the edge of the hole, his eyes wide. “Yukiteru?” He began to sway. “Are you…?”

Yukiteru couldn’t bring himself to answer; his head was spinning and he’d lost his breath. He felt sure that the rain was trying to drown him.

Bringing his hands to his face once more, the dark-clad boy curled forward, now staggering under the weight of his own mind. The dirt that Yukiteru was struggling to sit up in was gradually turning to mud as the sky poured its sympathies upon them.

What will you do? asked the serpent.

I don’t know.

What will he think?

I don’t know.

Do you see now? What you’re capable of?

I don’t know…

Yukiteru was on his hands and knees by the time A-ya could hear the sounds of a small voice, calling out to them frantically in the loudest volume they could likely muster. He looked to the small Rika emerging from the woods they’d originally been in. What, had she been watching them before? They must have flown right over her head.

Ah, so the Princess is here.” A-ya found that he couldn’t stop himself from speaking.

She glared at A-ya as she at last reached them, breathing hard. Accusingly, she pointed at the dark-clad demon. “Let Yukiteru go. I must return with him to our group. He has attempted to save you from the dark path you tread, and you have refused. Leave us be.”

A-ya began to titter again. He wanted to scream, or maybe just float away and never come back down. He felt like an alien, or like he’d lost his body and become a stranger. He wondered if he would recognize himself in the mirror.

“Ri—ka?” Yukiteru choked out. “What’re you—?”

“We’re leaving this scene immediately. Come on; the others need us now.”

“Wh—wha…?” Yukiteru stumbled to his feet, unsteady as he scrambled back to level ground. “What happened?”

“It does not matter. We must hurry,” she said seriously.

“What about—?” Yukiteru looked to where A-ya had stood only to find that he was gone. “A-ya?”

“No time,” Rika grabbed at Yukiteru’s hand and pulled, but the cloaked one pulled her back.

Before she could protest, he scooped her up in his arms, wincing as he did so before taking off. “If there’s no time, then we’ll do this. How do you know something’s wrong?”

The rain began to slow. Rika looked like she was eyeing something – or someone – that Yukiteru couldn’t see.

“I had some help,” she said quietly.

“Well, let’s hurry,” Yukiteru said simply, and sped back towards the others with thoughts of A-ya still heavy in his mind.


The armadillo led the four of them to the very house that Yukiteru spoke of, skittering up the front step and scratching at the bottom of the door. It squeaked and squealed in distress of its predicament of not being tall enough to open the door, not to mention its lack of opposable thumbs. Akise was more interested in the stoop than the door itself, apparently. As Celty opened the door for Kincho, Minene asked him: “Ah, whatchya lookin’ at?”

“There’s blood,” he commented, straightening back up and following the others in the door. He left it open for Yato, who slipped in with his head bowed. The door remained open behind them.

“Oh, jeez…” Minene rubbed at the back of her head. She, Celty, and Akise all gathered around Kincho’s finding: the broken, battered, and beaten body of Yoh Takami, his blood still somehow fresh. Looked as though he’d been picked apart by someone or another, perhaps a ghoul. Kincho squealed and wailed in despair, turning around and around and sniffing at the human again and again as if it were unable to accept the fact that he was dead. Unbeknownst to any of them, Yoh had been another caretaker of his.

“Ya think he knew the armadillo?” asked Minene.

“I’d suppose he did,” Akise answered, quiet. The armadillo’s cries died down into miniature utterances of sorrow. It curled up at Yoh’s side, nudging at him and nestling itself in the crook of his neck.

[How terrible…]

“To think,” scoffed Minene, “that an armadillo is mourning somebody.”

Yato stared at all of them, and at the armadillo, and at Yoh Takami. The last time he’d seen this boy, he’d been trying to kill Yato. Who was it who died instead?

He recalled how it felt to have Yukine’s soul ripped from his own spirit. He recalled the way he’d parted into two pieces, severed neatly. He recalled the experience of watching his Shinki die in front of him.

And why should it be that Hiyori had died? What had she ever done? He’d already dreaded her mortality – she was meant to age and die long before Yato’s existence had been extinguished. For her life to be cut off like that… Did it really matter who’d done it? Why did Death need to be so cruel, no matter the circumstance?

For Yukine to have suffered in life the way had – he was a lost soul, after all. He’d first died when he was fourteen; what was this terrible truth?

He could not kill Death. Here, did that rule still apply? He could be wounded by mortals here, why couldn’t the personification of death be killed?

Who said any of the so-called rules couldn’t be broken?

What was it, really, that a Dullahan looked like in its true form?

What about a God of Calamity?

All this talk of the future, he thought bitterly, when the future is just as fleeting as the past. Why should I play along, at this point? I began with nothing, and finally I’d found people who wanted me around. It took years; centuries. And now both of them are gone. What is the point? Where is your reason for me to keep going in this way?

Before him, the other three were discussing the possibilities of Yoh’s origin. It seemed neither the armadillo nor the cadaver were willing to give them any answers. Yato shifted his weight to one side of his body, feeling himself grow colder. Yes, what was it that Celty would become if she lost those friends she spoke of? If she lost the man she alluded to in her oh-so-inspirational speech?

Who was it he had left, now? Who did he know would not leave his side, without fail?

[Perhaps we should wait for Rika and Yukiteru outside the house.] suggested Celty.

“I mean, I’m down with that, if you want,” shrugged Minene. “But I kinda wanna see Yukki react to a dead body, honestly.”

“Minene-san, even I have to say that’s pretty terrible,” Akise sighed.

“Oh, come on, it’s not so bad! Death happens—he needs to get over himself.”

Yato supposed it was also true that the mechanisms at work in this game, being as suspicious as they were… Couldn’t it be that by the end of the game, he could go back to a life with Yukine and Hiyori both beside him? Couldn’t going home be some kind of reward – of course without the consequence of losing them for good. No, surely he would find them again, some way or another. Or perhaps—not so surely. Couldn’t he make the game masters give them back? He could try it.

He guessed that maybe, just maybe, he might be able to return to that life. All he needed was to avoid temptation and keep on keeping on, right?

He listened to the smooth voice of Akise, the harsh tones of Minene. The tapping of Celty’s touch screen. Iron permeated his senses. He imagined Yoh opening his eyes and looking at him. He imagined him smiling a smug smirk that made him itch. He pictured warm magenta eyes, and closed his own. The loss swept over him as an ocean. He may drown. Who could save him now?

He uttered a single word under his breath: “Hiki.

At first there was nothing; just the idle musing of the three over the body. That, and the armadillo in mourning. It snuffled quietly, burrowing itself closer to Yoh, almost hiding beneath his cold body in search of his warmth. They figured that it knew its friend was dead, whether it acknowledged it or not.

“Speaking of which, maybe Yato knows the guy. He’s being too damn quiet,” said Minene. “Oi, Ya—” She was cut off by a quick and simple slash. There he was, with a sword in hand, its blade jutting from the Dullahan’s chest. Everything stopped. Yato’s cold eyes had frozen time itself.

He ripped the blade through her, and all at once time began again. Her body dropped with a very stiff and dull thud. Her helmet tumbled from her neck and rolled across the room.

“Shit!” Minene began, pulling a grenade as fast as she could from her belt. She managed to pull the pin before he’d slashed through her gut once. Grasping at her abdomen, she moved backwards with hindered precision as the bomb went off. The God of Calamity sliced through the flames and then through her, stabbing just below her ribcage. She fell to her knees with a grimace, expression contorted as she collapsed.

In the midst of the confusion, Akise had grabbed at the first object he could find that could possibly be used as a weapon. Kincho was screeching in terror, scrabbling on the hardwood floor to hide underneath the cadaver.

“You mother—fucker…” Minene got out. “A—kise—get out…” She weakly struggled with the pin of her last remaining grenade, but Yato, crouching in front of her, took it easily from her and pulled the pin himself, tossing it carelessly behind him. “You’re—a dick.”

Yato’s expression was blanker than it had ever been. His expression was the picture of Nothing. The second grenade went off, somewhere in the background. “I told you it was the wrong decision to bring me into your group.”

Oddly, her eyes looked beyond him now. She was too distracted by the image of a man that shouldn’t be here. It’s—that bald asshole?

Presuming Minene unresponsive, Yato turned suddenly on Akise, who blocked his blade with a medium length, milky-red staff. The thing splintered with a loud crack, and Akise tsk’d before making a break for it through the fire the second grenade had made. I was using a bone, Akise thought in amazement, and that was the only initial thought he could muster.

Well, rather, his first initial thought was, I’ve made a mistake. He was the one that wanted to bring Yato into their group, and this was where it brought them. Akise felt awful—but he had no time to feel awful right now.

The silver-haired one burst through the back door and skidded on the thickly wet grass, soaked in blood. Looked like someone had been lying in his own pool for some time here. This wouldn’t help him. What could help him?

I need to warn Yukiteru-kun, he thought urgently, as Yato came calmly out from the burning house.

“Thank you, Akise,” said Yato. He was all cold; all dark. As the sun set, so, too, did his warmth. “If it weren’t for you, I’d not have been able to complete a task like this. Thank you for saving my life; and thank you for your hospitality.”

Akise chuckled drily, his eyes narrowed. “You hardly seem grateful, Yato-san.”

“I’ve fulfilled your wish, Akise. You said I only needed to uphold it until I met up with my partner again, didn’t you? And here she is.” Nora buzzed in his grip, content. He pointed his blade to Akise, who spread his stance in preparation for a fight he knew he couldn’t win.

“So you did,” Akise conceded. “Was that what all this was about? I can’t possibly believe that’s the only reason you stayed. But I don’t suppose… you could accept one more request?”

“No, I couldn’t.”

Those eyes were of ice. Akise remembered a similar feeling associated with the time where Yato had first snapped.

“I guess there’s no point in asking why you’ve done this, at this point.”

“No, there’s not.”

“It was worth a shot,” Akise smiled, and he jumped backwards in anticipation of the slash he knew was coming. The blade skidded over his bulletproof vest, and the silver-haired one began to chuckle. I’m going to die. He knew that the next blow would surely end him. Stabbing right through the vest into the heart? Straightforward decapitation? “This is alright, Yato-san. As long as Yukiteru-kun makes it, I—”

The blade came.

 

Chapter 78: Night Falls

Chapter Text

 

The unified conglomerate of nine had already laid down the structure of their gamble of harrowing Seidou Takizawa. It was decided that every one of them would be segmented into three main groups: those who would be directly interacting with Seidou (that is, Akira and Roppi), those who would remain nearby for backup or as a buffer from outside influence, and then those who would not participate at all. All of them were discussing the plan and giving suggestions and whatnot, but it seemed to be an unspoken truth that Akira and Kaneki were at the head of this project. That being said, the both of them had decided early on that there would definitely be people who wouldn’t participate. Even under the event that everyone did want to, they would still select at least three people to remain apart from the project. Call them designated survivors, if you want.

Akira tried to suggest that Kaneki be one of these ‘designated survivors,’ and he’d looked at her with a face of stone. For him, his participation was without question.

But of the nine of them, Rin opted out under Shirou’s request (“I didn’t really want to be involved anyway, Shirou.”), and Hide was practically forced out of the project by both Kaneki and Akira. After that, they wanted to choose someone strong enough to take care of the others should anything happen. Their first choice had been Shirou, seeing as he was perceived to be relatively strong, and he was close to Rin after all.

Needless to say, Shirou refused vehemently. “I’ve been fighting to try and help Seidou this whole time – I want to partake!”

So instead, Shinichi was to be staying with Rin and Hide at the designated safe spot, or base… or whatever you wanted to call it. “Perhaps Shintaro should also remain with them,” said Roppi, his sleeve to his mouth.

They looked at the jerseyed one, bent over on the floor as he picked apart the telephones he’d collected from all around the hotel. The tools he was using were ones he’d found amongst other miscellaneous things behind the reception desk. He was concentrating deeply, and only responded with a vague, “Un?” at the sound of his name.

“I feel like he wants to join us,” Shirou said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head.

“He’ll be safer with Shinichi-kun’s group,” Kaneki mused.

“I am taking part,” Shintaro uttered as he worked. “I want to see Seidou.”

“If he understands the dangers… well, is that still okay?” asked Hide.

Shintaro firmly smacked the pliers he was using to the floor, looking up to everyone else with eyes shining red. “I know the dangers, and I’m going with you. I want to be there. If I’ll be in the way, that’s one thing, but if I’m hanging back with Konoha in hiding, then that’s enough for me. I don’t want to be in the background for this one. Seidou is important to me, too.”

“Fucking eyes,” muttered Roppi, looking away.

Ah, I’d never asked him about those, had I? thought Kaneki, staring intently at the pliers. He didn’t answer for some time.

“Understood,” said Akira. “However, I don’t know that it would be…”

“We’ll let you, on the condition that you remain with Konoha, and only with Konoha,” said Kaneki, his eyes still set on the pliers. “And… be careful with those,” he added dismissively, and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.

Shintaro blinked. By then, his eyes were grey again. “Eh?” He looked at the pliers. “I mean, I will. I’m gonna—make us walkie talkies.” In presentation, he held two of the phones up. “I saw it once in a textbook.”

“Will that even work?” asked Rin skeptically.

“I have a photographic memory,” Shintaro answered her distractedly, picking his tool back up and returning to his work.

“Let him feel useful,” Roppi said to Rin.

Hey,” Shintaro cried in protest.

“He has his worth, Roppi,” Kaneki sighed lightly, smiling that Mona Lisa smile.

Now the sun was setting and Shintaro didn’t know whether Kaneki’s words had any merit. He didn’t know if even his own words had merit. The three that weren’t participating – Shinichi, Rin, and Hide – were about to leave now, giving their ‘good luck’s and their ‘see you’s. They would only act on their plan tonight if they found themselves under the correct circumstances. If it got to be too late and the circumstances didn’t arise, then they would join Shinichi, Rin, and Hide in the residential area they had been designated to. It was the same suburban area where the graveyard lay in the northernmost part. The group of six that were involved situated themselves on the outside of the thickest part of the woodland here, just between the edge of the city and the edge of the forest.

Shintaro watched the farewell scenes from a distance, sitting on a stump where the only thing he’d have to give was an awkward little wave. Shinichi gave very quiet goodbyes. He spent more time bidding adieu to Kaneki and Roppi than anyone else. The partial parasite did make a point of catching Shintaro’s eye and bowing slightly. Shintaro hastily nodded back, and he was admittedly happy to see Shinichi smile at him.

For Rin, the most prominent of goodbyes was with Shirou. Made sense, knowing that they’d found one another here only for one of them to go on some risky mission. Shintaro imagined that Rin would be scolding him for not sticking around with the safe group. She had to be, her stance screamed scolding with her stance wide and hands on her hips with a displeased expression on her face. She was cut off from whatever she was saying when Shirou hugged her. Some kind of tsundere struggle ensued, followed by timid acceptance. Shintaro had to stop watching – she sure was cute.

Akira and Hide exchanged bows, and the blond patted Roppi on the back, all friendly. He did the same for Konoha, and his android friend proceeded to pick him up and squeeze in his odd form of affection. Hide was laughing all the way through, so Shintaro supposed it was okay. The NEET smiled at the scene, if slightly. Kaneki was the last to be approached. The half-ghoul was as subtle as ever, speaking things that were likely words of concern for Hide’s safety. Shintaro watched as the brighter of the two pounced on Kaneki in an aggressive show of all of his care. He could tell that Kaneki didn’t quite know how to react, but he could also kinda tell that this was routine… or had once been routine, at some time. Shintaro wondered what had changed that. He wondered what had changed any one of the people here. He wondered whether Kaneki had ever pushed away Hide like Shintaro had pushed away Ayano. He wondered why anything had to change, and then he thought to himself that if he could have anything, he’d ask to start over.

He hung his head. That wouldn’t work, would it? No. And now he was thinking too much – at least his walkie-talkies worked. Shinichi’s group had one, and then Kaneki, himself, and Shirou would each get one, too. He’d made four in all. He’d been initially worried about how well they’d work, but Shirou had come over to take a look and, using some kind of teal sparky mage-stuff, had fixed up anything that could be improved with them. Shintaro and Shirou then tested them out together – the next obstacle would be the range of communication. Even with Shirou’s tampering, they could only be so far away from one another before the reception was shot.

Just as Shintaro was about to give up on the contraptions, the phones had lit up with golden sparks—he thought for sure they were short-circuiting and about to explode. Although Shintaro had panicked and Roppi, nearby, had dully criticized his handiwork, they worked fine afterwards. In fact, they’d worked even better. No matter the distance, it seemed, the quality was not hindered, let alone the reception.

Shintaro imagined the golden-haired items master sitting in his swivel chair with two thumbs up, waggling them back and forth. “Thanks, Aureus,” he uttered, and sighed. I really hope this is a good idea.

It began to rain. Shintaro thought he heard Kaneki breathe the word “cloudburst” as he looked to the sky. It was Shirou, however, that sat beside Shintaro on the stump. “Mind if I join you?” he inquired politely, and Shintaro shook his head. It was then that the redhead sat. “How are you holding up, Shintaro-kun?”

He’s so friendly, he thought. “Um, I’m holding. Up. Yeah.”

“So, you’re so-so,” he chuckled. “That’s fair.” He paused. “I hope that Tohsaka-chan will be safe. Thank you for making those walkie-talkies.”

“No, no. Thanks for, uh… fixing them up with your… mage… stuff. Really cool.”

Shirou shook his head. “I don’t know how you managed to fix the reception issue, though. That wasn’t me.”

“I had help,” Shintaro uttered, rubbing at his arm. He paused, then looked at the ground. “Hey, Shirou – you… uh.”

“Hm? What is it, Shintaro-kun?”

“You’re involving yourself in something as risky as this, even though you didn’t know Seidou very well, I’m sure. It’s—really brave, and so I wanted to say… I dunno. You’re pretty—heroic.”

Shirou blinked at Shintaro, then laughed a bit, modestly rubbing at the back of his head. “I wouldn’t go so far as to say that. Brave? I don’t know whether I would fit into that bracket. I’m just doing what I think is right.”

Shintaro gazed at him with a light sigh escaping his lips. “But isn’t it hard just to do that much?”

“It shouldn’t be,” Shirou told him somberly.

“Isn’t it difficult to find what’s ‘right,’ though?”

“Sometimes,” he conceded. “But to me, well.” He smiled a distant, nostalgic kind of smile. “My father was my hero. A long time ago, he saved me, and from then on I thought that maybe, if I could save at least one person, then that alone would make all the difference. That alone should bring me happiness. That’s what true happiness is, isn’t it? I figure that if I try to save everyone, then I’ll be that much happier. That’s my belief. That’s all.”

“To save at least one person, huh…” Shintaro’s eyes were overcast. “I’ve been hearing that a lot lately. Say, Shirou.”

“Yeah, Shintaro-kun?”

“If someone were to just save one person, would that make them a hero?”

That warm smile. “I’d say so.”

“Even if they don’t think they’re a hero, that is?”

“Of course.”

“I see… Thank you.” Because if Seidou saved me, and he’s a hero to me, then he, too, should be saved. Maybe this would work out, after all. That ever-indecisive sense of confidence began to flow again.

“Do we all know our stations?” asked Akira officially, calling everyone to attention. Shirou stood up, and Shintaro awkwardly followed suit. The six of them were all gathered together.

“I will be in the building just over there,” said Shirou, pointing his thumb behind him.

Akira and Kaneki gave nods. “An upper floor, that is,” added Kaneki, touching his chin. “There, you will intervene with long-range attacks if need be. If anything is going remotely wrong, you will act.” Shirou gave his assent, and Kaneki continued, “I will maintain the area between the six of us and the three apart from us: Hide, Shinichi, and Tohsaka-chan will have me at their aid if anything goes wrong on their end. If anything goes wrong in the mission regarding Seidou, then I will help this end, here. I’ll also pay mind to anyone that may be coming our way.”

“If any other groups are in the vicinity when Takizawa is led here,” said Akira, “the plan will not take place. There are no exceptions. Understood?”

A chorus of understanding.

The CCG officer continued, “I will be waiting here. Shirou, Shintaro, and Kaneki all have a communication device, courtesy of Shintaro. Nagachika’s group also has one. We will communicate through those. Before Kaneki leaves for his post in between this group and Nagachika’s group, he will be watching over Shintaro while Konoha and Roppi track down Takizawa.”

Nodding, Roppi continued, “Konoha here will find him using his weird-ass ears, and I’ll be reminding him to keep tabs on everyone else he can hear. We don’t want any interference, or else we’re screwed. We’ll find him, I’ll be a dick, and then Seidou will follow me, using Konoha for speed…”

“I don’t remember telling you to ‘be a dick,’” Akira said flatly.

“How does one ‘be a dick’?” asked Konoha, his hand raised.

Roppi sighed heavily.

“Roppi will lure Seidou to this area,” said Kaneki patiently, “without trying to make him angry. He will only resort to egging him on if it is absolutely necessary.” He eyed the alternate. “Right, Roppi?”

“Yeah.” He distractedly pulled his jacket back up onto his shoulders, where it was supposed to be. “Got it. And then I stab him with the Harrowing Blade when I have the chance, and that’s when Akira’s waiting here comes in.”

“I go to Shintaro at some time, right?” said Konoha, looking to Roppi.

“You will retreat from the scene as quickly you can,” Akira confirmed. “Either when Roppi uses his blade on Takizawa, or when you reach this clearing here.”

“Which one?”

“The one that comes second,” Roppi clarified dully. If one were paying close attention, they’d notice the anxiety underlying his voice. Anyone not paying close attention would peg it as impatience.

“Ah,” said Konoha softly.

“As soon as you retreat,” Kaneki said to the android, “you will stay with Shintaro. There should be no reason for you to leave his side after that. I will go to my post either at that point or before that, but I don’t want Shintaro-kun put in any unnecessary danger.”

“I will do my very best to protect my friend,” Konoha said firmly.

“If anything goes wrong, though,” said Akira, “you can step in if you think you can help. If you do, though, you must also make sure that Shintaro is safe.”

“Ah, yes.”

“Is that all fine for you, Konoha?” asked Kaneki. “Do you understand?”

“I think I do,” he nodded. “Go with Roppi, find Seidou, then leave Roppi alone when the second thing comes. Stay with Shintaro. Help if I can.”

“If things get too rough,” Roppi added with averted eyes, “then it might be better for you to grab Shintaro and take him to Shinichi and the others, okay?”

Something that might have been concern flickered in those watermelon orbs. “I see. Okay.”

By now the rain had stopped and the sun was setting. All through their discussion, they’d been pretending that there weren’t the familiar crashes of battle somewhere in the distance. The sky was darkening in such a way that implied more than the night – a storm was brewing, for better or for worse.

“Speaking of which,” said Shirou, “Konoha… what’s the word on Seidou, or other groups?”

“Ah…” Konoha tilted his head, eyes hazing. As the sky darkened, the luminescence of his eyes was becoming more evident. “Cluster of… three. That is our friends. Then… Ah, a one-two person, down, way down that way… A one person, and another one… no, two person there… Three-person-not-ours, over there…”

“How far away?” asked Akira seriously.

“Far away. They’re far away; all of them, except our three. The other three-person is closest besides them, but they are not moving anywhere.”

“What about Seidou?” Shintaro asked Konoha.

“Make sure it’s Seidou,” added Roppi with a meaningful look.

“Mm? Seidou is right there,” Konoha answered calmly, turning around and pointing to the top of a building not all too far away. He wasn’t right behind them by any means, but they could see his cloak billowing in the wind from here. Indeed, from here they could at least tell that he was looking their way.

“I thought you said he was in the woods, there,” Roppi said, tone taut.

“He was,” Konoha agreed. “He moved.”

“No shit—”

“Perhaps we shouldn’t—” began Akira, but Kaneki cut her off.

“Everyone get into position.” They looked at one another.

“We’re doing it,” Shirou chimed in. “He’s here, isn’t he? What else could we ask for? So he’s coming from the wrong side; so what? Let’s go for it while we have the chance!”

“Change of plans,” Roppi said flatly, shoving his machine gun at Konoha, much to the android’s confusion. “Konoha, take care of Shintaro. I’m going to approach him alone. I’ll make sure he makes it here, I promise. Alright?”

“Roppi—” Shintaro began to protest.

“It’s fine, Shintaro. I told you; I need this as much as Seidou does.” The dark one turned to Akira and Kaneki. “Let me go. Even if you say no, I’ll do it—because I think… that this is the right choice.”

Shintaro thought for sure that the smile crossing Roppi’s features was the closest thing to happiness he’d ever seen on his visage.

And just like that, it had begun.


A-ya sat in the dampened grass where the forest ended and he could watch Yukiteru and Rika return to their group, wherever they may be.

What else did you expect, Loner?

He wondered whether the sunset was beautiful beyond the clouds. He wondered what color it was.

“I hurt him,” he said dazedly, and brought his knees to his chest. “What am I…?”

You should have known this was a risk from the beginning.

“It’s just another trick, isn’t it?”

A-ya shifted. Who was that, talking? He shifted his gaze, someone just a bit younger than himself had sat beside him. He blinked slowly, his senses thrumming in and out of cognizance.

The other child looked at him with a single narrowed eye, his other shrouded by his dark hair. A cold smile touched his young, pale lips. A-ya remembered him, of course: Ciel Phantomhive. What was he doing here? “You’ve fallen for the same trap as me, huh? I should have expected it.” He chuckled, but A-ya could only blink again.

This sure is something, commented the demon, sounding vaguely irritable.

“Maybe people like you and I belong in the dark…” Ciel’s eye was distant. “Is it so bad? I can’t even tell.”

You should really get some sleep, kid.

What’s that? I should sleep?

“I’d wanted to see where you’d end up. Ironic, isn’t it?”

You need it. You know that you’re sitting alone, right?

“How’s that?” he asked aloud. “I’m with you, Saeru.” He noticed that Ciel was gone.

I’ll leave your body be while you rest. This is becoming a hindrance even for myself. I won’t let you die; you’re my host. But barring that, you should sleep.

I should get back to the others and sleep with them, he thought, even as he buried his face in his knees. Oddly, he felt comfortably warm. All feelings of loneliness began to melt with his consciousness. Curled into the fetal position before the trees behind him, he began to slumber at last.


“So how long will A-ya take, do ya think?” asked Suzuya.

“Who knows?” answered Izaya, unconcerned. “I’m more curious as to how he’s doing with Yukiteru-kun.” He was possessed with that old fixated spark. “What will they talk about? What will they feel? What will they do? It’s so exciting, I almost can’t contain myself!”

“You’re weird,” commented Suzuya, picking thoughtfully at the stitches on his right arm.

Izaya laughed. “Thank you, Suzu-chan!”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Why should I?”

“Because…” Suzuya had to think about it. “…Because it’s annoying.”

Izaya only snickered.

“Maybe it’s just that you’re annoying,” the albino conceded, bringing a finger to his lower lip. “That would make sense.”

“Sorry to disappoint, Suzu-chan – you can’t get rid of me so easy.”

“I could kill you, sometime.”

“Alright!” Izaya chirped. “Wait in line, then – there’s quite a few after me!”

“That’s okay, I don’t mind cutting.”

Twelve couldn’t help but laugh at the exchange. “You two are insane,” he said good-naturedly. “Not that I’m not, but hey.”

“Sometimes, just a little bit,” admitted Suzuya, “Izaya is kinda okay, maybe. In an annoying away.”

“I’m touched,” Izaya answered with a grin, and Suzuya pointed his scythe at him.

“I don’t like that face,” he said lowly.

“Hey, hey,” cut in Twelve, hands in the air. “I don’t want any heads rolling right now, okay?”

“What about eyes?” inquired Izaya with humor as Suzuya rolled his in bother.

“I’ll incapacitate you, then,” the officer sniffed, and Twelve laughed again.

“Ah, Suzu-chan learned a word after all!” cried the informant, who then dodged as ‘Suzu-chan’ swung his scythe at him.

“Akise was nice,” smiled Twelve, his hands in his pockets. His brown eyes were rather distant. “Wonder how that lot’s doing.”

“Don’t care,” Suzuya said dismissively.

“Harsh,” said Izaya.

Twelve released a bark of laughter. “That doesn’t mean much, seeing as you wouldn’t care if even I died, right Suzuya? Unless that’s changed?”

“It hasn’t,” said the albino, and any hope in Twelve’s voice was extinguished as he sighed sadly.

“Ah, well, I tried,” the terrorist shrugged. “And of course, there’s Izaya.” Twelve paused. “Speaking of which, hey.”

“Hm? What is it, Twelve?” That cold, cruel smile.

“Do you know why it is I chose to join you and A-ya over remaining with Minene and Akise and the others?”

“Hm?” Izaya’s eyes were barely open, slits. “Because we’re more interesting, I suppose?”

“No, actually, that’s not it at all.” That dark light that so intrigued Izaya flickered in Twelve’s eyes as he smirked, but it didn’t last long. He shook his head and displayed a look of detachment. “No, I understand that Suzuya doesn’t like your eyes at all, but from the beginning, I’ve seen my partner somewhere in them. Maybe that’s just my projection or whatever… That’s a fair inference. But you have the same unreachable distance about you, and the same ice in your eyes. They’re familiar to me. And it made me think…”

“Twelve-kun,” Izaya smiled thinly, “if you’re implying that you’re becoming attached to me, then I find that to be incredibly cute. I warned you from the beginning that the connections that you’re trying to forge will only hinder you, and the fact that you want to befriend me, of all people—why, it’s just hilarious!”

“Oh, yes,” Twelve answered warmly in turn. “It’s very comical. I know that. Because just as I warned you… my partner said the very same thing to me.” He beamed at the informant with narrowed eyes. “As sparks, we cannot burn alone, Izaya.”

Izaya scoffed. “I don’t need anything like connections or ties. I made that decision a long, long time ago, Twelve-kun.”

“Then what are you fighting for? Why go on?”

He frowned.

“I’m not saying that anyone should die if they’re alone, by any means,” Twelve shrugged. “But maybe, just maybe, you might long for something more. Could that be the truth? It sounds like a truth to me, over a lie.”

“Hoh,” Suzuya piped in, eyes wide in disconnected intrigue.

“If the only things that exist,” said Twelve, “are things that sound like truths and things that sound like lies, then let’s say that I’ve been trying to piece together a picture of Izaya Orihara that sounds like a truth rather than a lie. I can be wrong; I don’t mind. But I’d like to get to know you.” He smiled knowingly at the informant, and Izaya found himself narrowing his eyes warily. Oddly, his words brought him discomfort. “Let’s say that Izaya, once upon a time, chose to disconnect himself from the world because he couldn’t afford to care – for whatever reason. It could be selfish, it could be a defense, or it could be just because. In doing so, he shut himself out. That’s not so bad – all three of us know the feeling of being shut out, don’t we? We know how it feels to be alone in a crowded room.  We’re well acquainted the term loneliness, whether we’re consciously aware of it or not. A-ya knows it too; I’m sure of it.

“Now, continuing with the tale of Izaya Orihara, let’s say that he’s a lying bastard. Let’s say that he’s manipulative and has caused some horrible things.” Izaya almost began to speak, but Twelve only continued with more power. “He’s caused conflict. He’s a warmonger of the human mind. A terrorist – that’s right! He’s a terrorist! A real terrorist of psychology – you set off bombs in people’s heads, in their relationships, and so on and so forth… Maybe Izaya has a goal in mind, but maybe he’s just having a good time. That doesn’t matter. He’s satisfied, isn’t he?” He looked at Izaya, who was just staring at him with his jaw set. Twelve released a heh. “Isn’t he? Of course he’s satisfied, but let’s say that Izaya has taken himself so far down on this path that he’s found himself all hollowed out and empty inside. Let’s say that somewhere, somehow, he is still craving those troublesome things you call connections because Izaya is still human, and as we’ve established, we know all too well the word loneliness.

Twelve at last faced Izaya directly, and the informant actually found himself taking a step back. Hilarious. Twelve was smiling. “I guess my point is that I’m coming to think that all of that talk about how we don’t need anyone else… that sounds like a lie. I want to work with you, Izaya.” His eyes were shining with the light of sincerity, and that gentle smile – ah, such an expression was one he’d not often seen directed to him. In fact, only one other time, and that… (To think, that Shizuo would die for him!) …that surely didn’t count.

Izaya didn’t know what to make of Twelve, on the other hand. He found himself smiling thinly at the brunette, spilling with cold mirth. “Do you really believe that I’ll fall for something like that? Hah! I’m touched that you’re trying so hard – I really am! But just because I love humans as a whole doesn’t mean I take kindly to you specifically. I’ll concede that you’re interesting – oh yes are you interesting! – but in the end, your efforts to ‘reach me’ are futile.” His grin stretched from ear-to-ear. “Because I’m someone who doesn’t want anybody to try and ‘help’ when I’m enjoying myself just fine. You’re mistaken, Twelve-kun. I take joy in playing puppeteer, and there’s no way I’ll let myself get tied up in those precious strings of yours.”

Twelve was unfazed. “I know about what a terrible person you can be,” he admitted, and Izaya narrowed his eyes at him. “But we’re all pretty terrible at some time or another. I’ve already pieced you together, the way I see it, and I’d like to try anyway. You think I’ll back down from a challenge? I’d like to give you a chance because we who’ve been shut out at some time or another aren’t so alone when we’re together, you know? No one deserves to be truly alone.”

“You mock me,” Izaya scoffed, derisive.

“I’m not trying to. I don’t expect you to jump at the chance. You don’t have to warm up right away. It takes a while for spring to bring flowers, you know? That being said, Izaya, someday, I would like to be your frie—”

Twelve’s expression went blank, perhaps just as confused as they all were. His brown eyes widened – they looked so tired now. Hurt. Izaya’s mocking smile froze on his face; he couldn’t quite react yet to the figure in the dark, nor the red dribbling from the corner of the terrorist’s mouth.

“The heart is such a heavy, troublesome thing, isn’t it?” spoke a low, deathly tone. Yato’s eyes peered into Izaya’s; the informant still didn’t process what had just transpired. “Allow me to fix that,” he said, and pulled the sword from Twelve’s chest.


Yukiteru and Rika approached a building now on fire, frozen and unwilling to enter. The cloaked boy set Rika down on her feet, slow and gentle. “What happened?” asked Yukiteru faintly, and Rika closed her eyes. Beside them, unbeknownst to Yukki but known well to Rika, Hanyuu hovered with hands clutched tightly together.

“I-it was Yato…,” Hanyuu said tentatively, and Rika nodded. She opened eyes without warmth.

Could it really be that Akise…? Her mouth downturned. No, no need to jump to conclusions. “This was Yato’s doing,” Rika spoke, and Yukiteru didn’t respond, stepping towards the fire that gave them light. The sky was swelling with thick black – a storm was coming. “Yukiteru…,” Rika tried again, but he only opened the door without a word. Frowning slightly, she followed after the other in deadened apprehension. Why should she be so perturbed by tragedy nowadays? There was no point.

Within the building, Minene’s eyes flickered hazily to the figures entering. Reflecting on everything amongst the flames, she recalled how it felt to lose her parents all that time ago. All this time, what was it she longed for? I was trying to save Rika, wasn’t I? she thought hazily. For as long as she’d been fighting, in the end, she’d only wanted to be saved, too. Someone had better take care of her.

And as Rika and Yukiteru looked at the bodies of Celty and Yoh and Minene, Rika of course approached her long-time teammate, crouching beside her and whispering an apology.

The terrorist smirked at her. “You guys better win.”

Rika’s jaded eyes softened. “We will, Minene,” she assured her, and Minene’s eye lost what light it had left, leaving only the reflection of the flames. Expressionless, Rika stood as she heard the nervous skittering of the armadillo, scurrying to her side in all urgency. Blinking, she scooped Kincho up in her arms and looked to Yukiteru, who was staring at Celty and Yoh, trembling in place.

“What… is this?” His voice quivered hopelessly. Rika watched him wipe at his face with the crook of his arm. “What is this?” She approached him quietly, thinking it best for him to be left with his thoughts for now. Standing at his side, she hoped that her presence could bring some form of comfort. She could only ignore Hanyuu, who was stammering ‘I’m sorry’s and whimpering in her own despair.

She saw no need to cry. Maybe this had never happened before, but somehow all ended the same. A dull ache consumed her from within.

“Yato, huh?” said Yukiteru, and he proceeded to pick up his machine gun from beneath Celty’s body, having left it with her. Rika supposed they hadn’t had time to retaliate with it. Yukki paused, his eyes shrouded. He seemed to sway on his feet. Rika followed after him as he wandered to every room, then out the back door. A pool of blood was there, but nothing else awaited him save for the night. Wind gusted about them, the fire at their backs. “Where’s Akise?” he asked.

“Akise…” Rika looked back to the house, but there was no upstairs to it. They’d looked everywhere. “I’m not sure.” She paused, waiting for Yukki to say something. It seemed he had nothing else to say, eerily quiet as he stood still, looking to the black sky with his cloak billowing in the rising wind. Deciding he was too quiet, she opened her mouth to speak when she saw his shoulders shaking. She stopped herself.

In the quiet beyond the crackling flames, laughter emerged. It began soft, barely contained, and then erupted in an outburst of hysterics. Yukiteru turned to look at Rika, and she could see his tear-streaked face in the light of the fire. His wide, blue eyes had a strange spark that was all too familiar. He was smiling. “This is alright. Isn’t it, Rika?”

Her eyes narrowed slightly. She wasn’t sure what he meant. “How so, Yukiteru?”

“So what if Yato betrayed us? So what if Akise—who knows what happened to Akise, right? And what does it matter?” He laughed with a hitch, an unnatural note to his tone. “This game is fake, Rika! Anyone can die, and it doesn’t matter! We can kill whoever we want, and it’s okay because in the end they’ll come back, won’t they?”

Possessed with some whole new aura, Yukiteru cocked his machine gun and pointed it at Rika. “So if I kill you,” he said, “it would bring me one step closer to the end, right?”

Yukiteru,” she said firmly, while Hanyuu fearfully covered her eyes.

He lowered the gun, tilting his head. “You’re right. You’re the only one I know that remembers other routes of the game… But on that token, you probably want to go back to the beginning by now, don’t you? Do you think A-ya’s right? What do you think?”

Rika stared at him, for once at a loss for words. It was true that it was Hanyuu that had reset her own world of the little town of Hinamizawa. Did she want to go back to the beginning? Of course she did. But…

“It’s okay, Rika; we’ll make it to the end, and we’ll make sure the game masters bring everyone back,” Yukiteru grinned. “And even if they don’t, I’ll go home and make sure that I become god so that I can bring everyone back – like Minene and Ciel and you and A-ya and C-ta and Keiichi and—and people like Yato can go ahead and DIE for all I care!” He dropped the gun to the ground and brought his hands to his face, staggering backwards before falling into a crouch on the wet ground. The rain began to fall again.

Rika began to approach with caution, but Hanyuu stopped her. “Wait,” whispered the goddess. The child looked closer, uneasy. Around Yukiteru, she could just make out the shriveling of the grass at his feet in the light of the fire. This influence of wilting death began to spread, and Rika took a step back. Kincho was trembling in her arms.

“Yukiteru, please regain your senses…”

The shadow of his cloak seemed to flicker before he looked at her with utmost despair. “What else am I supposed to do?” he asked weakly.

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly.

“What else am I…?” He buried his face in his hands again. “How could I have thought I could save everyone? I-I… don’t need anyone else. Not Akise, or you… Not Yuno or—A-ya. I just—need myself. That’s it. So I can—do stuff on my own. Right? That’s right. I’ll—kill everyone… in order… to save them all.”

“Yukiteru,” Rika said seriously, “I don’t think that you’re thinking logically—”

“Don’t SAY THAT,” he snapped, and broke down into sobs.

The child closed her mouth again. She decided it was best to leave him be, and so she knelt there on the wet grass, already soaked – not that Yukiteru wasn’t. It was all she could do as he wailed to the storm clouds above, impartial to their suffering.

“It’s not like you’re the only one,” she whispered, bowing her head. Minene’s somehow reassuring smirk came to mind. Her eyes burned. “Really. What am I supposed to do, either? Yukiteru…”

Hands clutching at her black skirt, she mourned their losses alongside him.

 

Chapter 79: The Fool

Chapter Text

 

The scream that ripped from Suzuya’s throat was one that left Izaya rooted in place. It was such a beautiful sound, the emotion so raw that even he could almost, almost feel it, too.

“I’ve been meaning to meet up with you again, Izaya,” the God of Calamity said with glowing eyes of cerulean, a gaze that could cut diamonds. They flickered as Suzuya’s scythe came down on him – of course, he dodged. The clearing was filled with the sounds of metal on metal. Izaya returned to himself, pulling the Prophet from its sheath. It was so dark by now, he could just dimly see where Suzuya and Yato were fighting. But every so often, he could see the flash of Yato’s luminescent eyes, showing him exactly where he was. Mouth twitching, Izaya jumped into the fray as the rain began to come down again. Eerily, he felt sure that Twelve’s eyes were watching him.

Izaya wanted to remark upon Suzuya’s evident attachment to Twelve, but something stopped him. He thought he heard laughing among the clashing of sword on scythe on sword, and laughed harder when he realized it was his own. The informant brought down the Prophet in a hardy swoop that made Nora quiver beneath his crimson blade – Suzuya swiped downwards and made the god jump backwards just in time for the CCG officer to only draw blood. “DIE!” Suzuya screamed. “Go to Hell, God, BURN IN HELL!”

“Hey, Suzu-chan,” uttered Izaya quietly as Yato lopped off one of Suzuya’s legs by the knee. “Do you think the world will end in fire, or in ice?” The albino caught himself with the butt of his scythe, regaining his balance before he released another battle cry as the scythe came down on Yato again. The god swiped it away with increasing ease. “What do you think, Yato-kun?”

In the midst of battle, he went unheard. He found it interestingly nice to be fighting alongside Suzuya, as wildly as he was behaving right now.

“You’re fighting with too much emotion,” Yato commented flatly as he deflected another of Suzuya’s swipes, blocking Izaya all the while. “You’re surprisingly strong even after losing your leg, but what difference does it make if you’re not fighting effectively?” He knocked Suzuya backwards and turned to Izaya. “Troublesome.” Rebounding off of a rock, Suzuya jumped at the God of Calamity whilst using the scythe for his leverage. His single red-slippered foot was aiming for Yato’s head. Izaya was aiming to skewer him on the other side. Smiling, the god threw his sword into the air and caught Suzuya by the ankle, swinging him around and attempting to knock him into Izaya. The informant dodged, jumping onto a nearby rock while Suzuya’s remaining leg was broken before he was tossed like a ragdoll to the side. Before Izaya could come down on Yato, he was gone, sword in hand.

All the informant could do was keep up with him, his heartbeat roaring in his ears. Rolling thunder surrounded them – the lightning would light the scene vividly for a split second before all went dark again and Izaya was left without any trace of night vision. Look for his eyes. Predict his movements.

Out of the corner of his vision, Suzuya was using his scythe to get back onto his only leg, but the torn ligament and broken bones wouldn’t allow him to move his weight. He watched Suzuya collapse. Try again. Collapse. Persistent kid, he thought in approval, but it was distracted and distant. He needed to pay attention. If Yato disappeared from in front of him, then—behind him!

Izaya whirled around to empty black. Did he close his eyes to throw me off? No— Izaya looked up to a lightning-stricken sky, and Yato was waiting for him. Izaya just barely raised his sword in time to block, but it sent him to the ground, the air knocked from his lungs. His head spun from the impact, and the next thing he knew the Prophet had been ripped from his grip and tossed to the side. The only thing he could get through his own head was the urgency of the situation he was in. I could die here. I could die. That’s inconvenient. He flipped out his switchblade from his pocket and jabbed Yato in the gut with it, feeling it sinking into his abdomen. Izaya grimaced as Yato backed off and he rolled over, gasping for air he staggered to his feet. Quick, I need to get that sword, or—

“How does this feel, Izaya?” Yato’s voice was behind him – Izaya whirled around and swiped at nothing. He clicked his tongue. “Your teammates can’t help you right now. The first one is dead, and the other is…” – Yato smiled cruelly – “…incapacitated. Can you fight for yourself?”

Izaya took a step back, one step closer to the Prophet. His switchblade was gripped tightly in his hand, pointing to the God of Calamity. He was smiling, or at least he thought he was. He chuckled drily, taking another step backwards. “You’re hardly being fair, Yato-san…”

Calmly, Yato followed him, step for step. “I know you’re headed for that precious sword of yours. It won’t make much of a difference. The fact that you’re going for it; the fact that you’re still fighting—clearly you don’t want to die.”

“Alright, you caught me!” Izaya cried, and let out a bark of mirthless laughter. He spread the arm not holding his knife out. “So I don’t want to die! I have a will to live! Call me a human – how dastardly.

Yato smiled. The lightning flashed. “But you’re not fighting for yourself, are you?”

Izaya’s brow furrowed. “I’ll be honest – I was expecting to be scolded for my selfishness. What’s this, now, Yato-san?” He took another step. Yato followed suit.

“You aren’t living, Izaya. You do nothing but live vicariously through other people, don’t you? You take pleasure in watching people instead of experiencing things yourself.”

“I can admit that I take pleasure in watching people,” said Izaya, “but I’ve had my fair share of experience—”

“No, you haven’t,” Yato cut him off, taking a threatening step and making Izaya back up two paces. The thunder rolled. “That’s not the kind of experience I’m talking about. Izaya, you find your happiness through the experiences of other people. In your realm, I’m almost positive that I wouldn’t find you on the front line but behind the scenes. Am I right, or what?”

“What’s wrong with being behind the scenes?”

“You don’t appreciate what it means to be alive at all,” Yato said lowly. “Otherwise you would have been utterly devastated when Shizuo died. Your heart would have ached for Psyche and Tsuki. It would have killed you to not have stopped Yoh Takami from killing Yukine, having known exactly what that plot was. You can keep your knife at hand even in bed, but that doesn’t mean you’re fighting for yourself – it just means you’re paranoid. Maybe you’re so scared of death because you’re nowhere near fulfilled here in life. You don’t know how to live for yourself. You could tell me all sorts of things about me, couldn’t you? You could analyze me down to the core of my uncertain existence, couldn’t you? So then—what could you tell me about Izaya Orihara?”

Izaya’s eyes narrowed.

“Well?” asked Yato. He paused. “What can you tell me about yourself? Is there anything to be said? It’s not so hard to read you, after all. But Izaya Orihara is not living. He’s using other people to be alive.”

Izaya made a move to grab the Prophet under the light of the electricity above, and suddenly his hand was impaled, Nora piercing through his palm and into the ground. Yato had him pinned. A pained sound escaped him, but then Yato’s free hand was at his throat. Nora was pulled from the informant’s hand, and Yato lifted Izaya by the neck. His vision fading, the rolling thunder sounded so far-off, like an avalanche somewhere in the realm of his prefrontal cortex, or maybe his occipital lobe. He couldn’t tell.

Without expression, Yato put Nora in the ground and ground his fist into Izaya’s gut, sending the informant flying backwards into the nearest tree. He couldn’t help but vomit red, his insides screaming in protest to Yato’s violation of equilibrium. Yato didn’t even permit him the chance to purge his own insides, gripping his neck and pinning him to the tree, now, blood still oozing from his parted lips. For a moment Izaya’s consciousness slipped, but then he was back, still struggling to breathe – he was trying to keep up with everything that was happening to him, but it was becoming alarmingly difficult.

In an attempt to cut Yato with his switchblade, he found it being pulled from his hand thrown irately to the ground. “You think you don’t need other people,” said Yato. “You’re wrong.” He dropped the informant, and Izaya slumped to the ground, blood rushing back into his head at last. He was breathing hard with his bad hand clutching at his stomach, trying not to choke, trying not to vomit. He used his good hand to try and wipe at his mouth, running with blood. The iron was smothering his taste buds. “You’re starving for the love of humanity, right? You’ve said it yourself. And to be so selfish while not even understanding the worth of life…”

“You—” A cough cut Izaya off, but clearing his throat, he tried again. “You—don’t seem… to take life too seriously, now, do you? Yato-san.”

Yato’s gaze merely pierced him, impassive. Izaya wondered when that look had become so distant.

“Hey, Yato-san, is this really what you wanted to do?” Izaya smirked weakly, his teeth stained red. “You were so mad at me for being a monster, right? And yet here you are with blood on your hands… Can you really call this justice? How many people have you killed?”

“More than you,” Yato answered flatly, pointing his sword at him. “But you’re a human; you can sin. I’m God; I can do as I please.”

“That being said, I’ve never actually ki—”

“Shut up.”

Izaya closed his mouth, smiling thinly.

“I think I’ve made my point well enough. Is there anything else you’d like to say?”

“Aw, you’re even giving me last words?” he asked in mock appreciation, and Yato lifted his sword, eyes burning. Izaya backpedaled immediately. “No, really, Yato, is this what you want? I’m the last living member of your original team! Does that mean anything to you? I just want to end this game, is that so wrong?”

“Then why did you let Yukine die?”

Izaya stared into his unmerciful face, lost for words. He didn’t have an answer. As much as he searched, he really didn’t have an answer.

“I don’t know,” he said sincerely. His voice sounded pitiful to his own ears.

“I see.” He raised his weapon.

“Wait, Yato-san! You could use that rage for good! We could still end the game!”

“Goodbye, Izaya.” His voice was hollow – it resounded in Izaya’s head like a death knell.

The informant wanted to dodge. Could he block it? Where had his switchblade gone? Fear gripped him, its cold hands holding him in place. I don’t want to die. His wide eyes were squeezed shut as he tried to cover his head and chest with his arms, bracing himself for the final blow. He was possessed with the terrifying thought of where he may go when it was over. Would he cease to exist? He wouldn’t mind going to Hell so long as he knew that at one time, he had lived—but the prospect of just winking out of existence was horrifying to him.

He heard wet footsteps, slow and calm. It had been more than a second or two, now. Cautiously lowering his arms, he looked to see Yato walking away from him. He released the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Wait… what? Yato wasn’t going to kill him? He was filled with a dizzying sensation, maybe relief, and had to stop himself from tittering.

Yato stopped walking, and Izaya stiffened. “I’m not going to kill you,” the god said to him. “That would be too pleasant an end to your life. In this game, death is an escape from this ridiculousness. Here, dying is a gift. I hope your teammates find peace.” A pause. “All of them,” he added. “Celty, too.” He looked back at Izaya with a terrible smile, lit momentarily by the sky. “I’ve performed my specialty on you, Izaya. You say you don’t need anyone, so according to you, what I’ve done won’t make any difference. Let’s just see how you fare with all of your ties severed. In layman’s terms, that means that not a single person has ever met you.” He tilted his head, closing his eyes. “Bye, now,” he grinned, and disappeared with the rolling thunder, leaving Izaya alone with the immobile Suzuya and the deceased Twelve.

Breathing a long and quavering sigh, Izaya leaned back on the tree behind him, body shaking as he settled in the calm after the storm.


A-ya jerked into consciousness to find a black sky looming over him. Immediately he checked his surroundings – alright, he hadn’t moved after all. But what time was it? How long had he slept? He hadn’t meant to—

It’s only been twenty-six minutes.

A-ya got to his feet. Was that so? That wasn’t so bad. “I should return to the others, then,” he said, mostly to himself. It’s so dark.

It’s a storm. Have you yet noticed that you’re soaked?

I hadn’t, he admitted, turning his back to where Yukiteru had left and returning to the thin trees. He walked slowly, feeling oddly placid. He looked at the thin canopy in idle reverence. Spending so much time among the trees in this game, he’d begun to find it strange that there didn’t seem to be a single living creature besides the players themselves. No squirrels, no rabbits, not even birds. None of it. And yet, here stood all these trees, living in this terrible dome. If they could speak, he wondered, what would they have to say about all of this?

You have strange musings, Loner.

At least I’m musing about life rather instead of death, Serpent.

What’s the difference?

A-ya smiled.

He did take his sweet time meandering through the underbrush. He supposed he’d have to find a better shelter for all of them, as he was sure nobody wanted to sleep out in the rain. Worst case scenario, they would head over to the shopping district again.

A-ya felt like something had ripped from his insides; he figured it had to do with Yukiteru. Yet this hollowed-out feeling was somehow refreshing. He felt unconcerned – he didn’t feel a thing. Thank goodness he’d passed out like he did, too! His senses were sharp again; he actually felt awake.

Your awareness has improved by 54%, the serpent confirmed in approval. Of course, you can’t stay awake forever.

I need to sleep again soon, A-ya agreed. And I’ll do that as long as you don’t do anything too rash.

Oh, of course not, Loner. A soothing tone.

A-ya couldn’t help but laugh. “Using a voice like that, I don’t know if I can trust you!”

Could you ever?

“Ah, who knows?”

The longer he walked, the more Saeru’s presence swallowed his insides. He felt like he’d learned the meaning of the word vessel. The thought of being unable to recognize himself in the mirror recurred to him, and he crossed his arms over his chest uncomfortably. It was a muted discomfort. He imagined being split open like Twelve only to find that he didn’t have any insides to spill. He thought that perhaps it should disconcert him a little more than it did.

It was incredibly quiet when he drew closer to the clearing where the rocks were situated. He felt the serpent stirring in impassive curiosity. A-ya wondered if he should be worried. A-ya wondered why they were so quiet. A-ya wondered why he felt alright with this.

When the trees broke and he found himself in their little gathering place, the first thing he saw was Twelve’s body, lying still. He had been pulled into the broken lap of Suzuya, who had closed the lids of the terrorist’s eyes. He approached them devoid of expression. Suzuya stirred, and looked up at A-ya with the same blank look. His white hair was messier than was usual, dripping with the pouring rain. A few of his red hairclips were missing. He just stared up at A-ya with nothing to say. What could he say?

A-ya gazed at him quietly, then looked at the ground around them, picking up his discarded cape, now downtrodden, muddy, and soaked. Then he picked up what he presumed was Suzuya’s lower leg. Returning to his teammates, he moved Twelve off of Suzuya’s lap and to the ground, draping his cape over Twelve as a shroud of sorts. A-ya noted that the cape was black once more.

After this was done, he looked to Suzuya. “Can you get up?” he asked. The officer’s head was bowed again, and he didn’t so much as stir in answer. He was holding his scythe up at his side, though, so A-ya knew he wasn’t unconscious. Or dead.

The dark-clad boy looked at Suzuya’s legs, one pooling blood that looked black to his night vision and the other twisted at an odd angle.

“You can’t get up, can you?” he asked. He recognized that he sounded perhaps a bit more monotone than even was normal for him. Suzuya didn’t answer. “You’re not going to answer me, are you?” There was nothing to be said. A-ya straightened up, his serpentine eyes flickering luminescent scarlet. “Oh, well,” he said together with his possessor. “I suppose there’s no use for you anymore, either.” He tilted his head, eyes narrowing just slightly. “With wounds like that, there’s no helping, is there? And I know that look in your eye.” He paused, then raised his hand. “Goodnight, Suzuya,” he said softly, and they ended him with a swift blow to the chest. The scythe fell with a clatter into the rock behind it. A-ya’s mouth smiled, if slightly.

He tried to slice us, the serpent commented in amusement. Perhaps he wasn’t done yet, after all!

But I guess that was the only option… That’s it, isn’t it? He looked to the abyss of sky. I’m alone.

Mm, behind you, Loner.

“Eh?” Dully, he turned around to see a figure slumped by a tree at the other end of the clearing. He seemed to be laughing, holding his abdomen with blood running down his chin. A-ya approached.

“Ah, A-ya-kun,” he said. “You missed the most—the most terrible show. I must admit, I’m a tad bit ashamed of myself! Pretty pitiful—ah… What will you do, now?”

“Who are you,” A-ya asked him flatly, his eyes unrelentingly cold. They narrowed just slightly. “And how do you know my name?”

Loner, what are you going on about?

I’ve never seen this person before.

Is that so… Interesting.

“Oh, come now, A-ya-kun, what are you saying?” asked the man. “I’m your teammate, of course!”

“I don’t know who you are,” A-ya reiterated lowly, and the informant stared at A-ya with wide eyes. He laughed with a hitch.

“You can’t just forget about me, A-ya-kun—don’t you remember? I was the first to follow you when you split off!”

“That was Twelve.”

“I was there when you killed Roy Mustang!” he insisted, sounding more desperate with every word. “You and Rika-chan and I—we—”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said dismissively, and the despairing one began to struggle to get to his feet.

“Y-you’re kidding! This is has got to be joke! You can’t just say something like that. There’s no—” The man’s eyes rounded. “Yato. Yato did this—he made it this way, didn’t he? This is his fault.”

“Ah… is he lying?”

To call him a lie would be fraudulent, but to call him a truth would be blasphemous. This one’s just a fool. A-ya could feel the serpent’s smile in his psyche.

The stranger seemed angry now, suddenly gripping at A-ya’s black vest and yanking him closer. “You can’t forget me—I’m Izaya Orihara, remember? We started a rumor together – that’s right, you and I are one and the same! And that’s why—”

Get off me,” they frowned, pushing him away and sending him to the ground. Izaya went to his hands and knees, covering his mouth. Seemed his insides were trying to get him to spew red. “Saeru,” A-ya mused aloud, “should I kill him?”

Izaya froze. This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be happening, no, this was insane, this couldn’t—

No, we’ll leave him be.” Izaya looked up into a face contorted into a grin, glowing red eyes looking down at him. “This soul may grow ripe yet for tragedy. This could be fun.” They laughed, and turned to listen to the distant sounds of some kind of skirmish. That smirk twisted his mouth. “We might as well join the show,” they remarked, and gave a distorted chuckle before running off towards the noise.

Izaya tried to grab at him too late, grasping at thin air. He was certain that it was the demon grinning at him at the end. He was certain there was recognition. If nothing else, the demon remembered him—but of course that snake wouldn’t tell A-ya about such a thing. “That… fucking—bastard!” He slammed his fist into the ground. A new horror began crawling beneath his skin. If this was how A-ya had responded to him…

What had Yato done?

God damn it,” he hissed, curling forward with the top of his head resting on the ground.

The clearing was deathly silent. His muscles began to relax. “It’s too—quiet,” he said to nobody. “Twelve, won’t you talk?” he murmured, and laid there in the downpour with nothing else to say.

 

Chapter 80: Underdogs

Chapter Text

 

Roppi stood firmly before the building that Seidou was perched on, looking up at him and into the rain. I’ve always loved the rain. Hands in his pockets, he gave the Harrowing Blade a squeeze, maybe just to reassure himself that it was still there. Then he spread his arms wide, hands free. “Are you coming down here, or what?” he asked the wind. He didn’t know whether his voice could reach Seidou’s ears, but it was worth a try. It must have done something, because here was Seidou, jumping from his perch and landing with knees bent. His hood was up, white strands falling and framing the lower half of his face. His eyes were overcast; Roppi couldn’t see what expression he was making. All he had to go on was the perpetual frown of his black-dyed mouth. “I swear to god, Seidou…,” he began drily, his mouth twisting in that sarcastic smirk. He eyed the ahoge that stuck up despite the hood he wore. “That freaking piece of hair on your head – I can’t take you seriously.”

Seidou raised his head just enough for Roppi to make out an expression of skepticism. “Don’t mock me,” the half-ghoul said lowly.

Roppi swallowed. He noted the shifting of Seidou’s position, barefooted on the ground. Preparing to charge? Probably. Maybe that wasn’t the best way to start this off. “Look, I’m not planning on fighting you. See, I don’t have my machine gun, either.” He held out the palms of his hands to present this fact.

Seidou’s countenance didn’t change. “Then what do you want.” He spoke through bared teeth.

A breathy laugh answered him. “Well…,” Roppi began. He drew his lips into a thin line. “I think it’s about time this stupid-ass sardonicism of yours came to an end. I’m a fan of Poe, not Shakespeare… and god damn it, let me tell you—I’m fucking sick of tragedy.” He felt his words come more easily, his purpose surer. “So let’s get rid of the parts we play for second, okay, Seidou? Let’s play improv.”

“What are you talking about?” he growled, cautious.

“I know you don’t want to be where you are, and I don’t want you to be where you are, either.” Slowly, Roppi began shifting backwards. “None of us do.”

“What are you doing.”

Roppi stopped, planting his feet on the ground. “Saving your doomed ass.” He spread his arms. “Seidou Takizawa was miffed with Kaneki just for existing nearby! How would he feel if he became a ghoul like you did?”

Seidou’s eyes narrowed.

“But right, isn’t it that you said that you weren’t Seidou Takizawa anymore?”

“I’m not—your Seidou Takizawa,” he reiterated, a halting confirmation.

“Well I’m not going to buy for a moment that you were ever okay with everything that you’re doing now. Right?”

“If you become—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Roppi waved him off. “You gave me your whole spiel.”

Don’t cut me off,” he hissed.

Roppi raised his hands up, a smile smeared over his face. “Sorry. Well, not really. I’m going to be brutally honest here. Forgive me.” He reached his hands into his pockets, a casual gesture. His fingers wrapped around the Harrowing Blade concealed there. It was cold to the touch. The rain was thick. It felt good; it helped cool his mind. He felt clean; it was a good hour, a good scene. He closed his eyes, a preparatory impulse. “Look. You’ve literally told me how much you love this situation—and how much you despise it, in the same conversation.”

“I don’t need you to tell me about me. You’re wasting your breath. I know you’re just stalling.”

Roppi smiled a lopsided smile. “Maybe I am,” he admitted, and took a wary step back as Seidou took a step forward. His posture was firmly confident in the face of the dangers Seidou’s presence posed. “But Seidou could not get over the idea of ghouls as a human. And what did he do to Akira?”

The half-ghoul drew back, as though suddenly unsure of his bitter fury.

“He couldn’t look at her, could he? What did he do, other than lose his teammates one by one? One had—died…” His red-eyed gaze drifted away only to return to his former team leader. “Another was an asshole and ran off, right, Seidou? And then the third was just a dumbass trying to save the former. I bet Seidou was pretty pissed. Was he?”

“He was,” Seidou bit out.

“And he was also worried, wasn’t he?”

Seidou didn’t answer.

“Because, after all, he wanted to look at Akira, too, didn’t he?”

His pallid eyes narrowed further, his posture stiff.

“Just like how underneath that confident act, Seidou really had an inferiority complex that—”

“I don’t want you speaking about me,” he spat, and Roppi frowned. “You don’t know a THING about—”

Because I’m the strong one, right?!” Roppi raised his voice above Seidou’s distorted tones, above the wind, above the rain. Above his doubt, above all the guards he’d built around himself. “I never cry; I never needed anyone because I couldn’t give a single shit about anyone else—because everyone is nothing but filthy scum, and so am I! I didn’t care what happened to Seidou or Shintaro; I just wanted other people to die! Why?”

Seidou didn’t seem to know where he was going with this anymore.

“Because really, I’m the weakest of them all, right?” he smiled faintly, and Seidou began to deflate. “Because I’m the one who cries himself to sleep at night. Because I’m the one who needs someone – anyone – more than anyone else because I’m too fucking pitiful to take care of myself. Because it wasn’t that I wanted everyone else to die, it was because I wanted to die. Because I didn’t want to lose anyone else. Because losing someone to death again was so terrifying that I’d rather be the one taking lives.”

The half-ghoul finally decided upon a response: a smile spread over his darkened lips, eyes disdainful. “Oh, bully for you, Roppi. How cute. And what does that mean now?”

“It means that both you and I have been acting the opposite of how we feel this whole damn time.” The look in those eyes was one of earnest fire. Seidou just stared at him, his skepticism plain in his shadowed face. “You’ve gone through a lot of shit, Seidou, but you’re not a ghoul. No matter what you go through, you’re still Seidou Takizawa. Whatever Seidou Takizawa may be – I don’t care what you’ve done or what you’ve been through, who you’ve eaten or who you hate… You’re still the one that led us through this god-forsaken game, and you’re still the one that tried his best despite everything. Open your goddamn eyes, Seidou!” Roppi spread his arms again. “I give a shit! And that’s saying something, isn’t it? All of us, we really… We fucking care about you, so stop being such an asshole and actually listen!

Seidou scoffed, unconvinced. “Then what, exactly, were you doing with the rest of your group, huh? What’s the real plot here? What part are you really playing? I’m very good at playing ‘ghoul,’ just you watch.” He lowered his center of gravity, his mouth twisted into a smile-grimace. “Because I’m NOT the same, I HAVE changed, and do you know how? You know HOW, Roppi? Huh? Because like THIS, when I’m LIKE THIS, I’m not a FAILURE. Right?

“I beg to differ,” Roppi answered drily, backing up a few paces. He turned slightly, slipping his hand back into his pocket. Hidden from Seidou’s view, he clutched again at the Harrowing Blade.

“Of course you do!” he exclaimed. “What are they waiting for, over there? What’s this about, actually? Why aren’t you saying? Huh? Huh? You’re not here to chat—you’re here to KILL ME, aren’t you?

“On the contrary,” Roppi smiled, “we’re trying to save you.” In his pocket, he flicked out the blade. Here it was; the moment was coming. Roppi felt his mouth go dry again. He thought distantly of all the street fights he used to get into, but now all of those foolish antics seemed so arbitrary. He wished that he could apologize to Tsuki for doing such stupid things all the time. He wished he could apologize to him for harming himself, for hating himself. For hating Tsuki, sometimes, too, but not actually hating him. He wanted to apologize for being as cruel as he was – to Tsuki, to Shintaro, to Kaneki, to Psyche… to Seidou. He wondered if maybe saving somebody could make up for that, too. He wondered if anything could make up for that. He conjectured that maybe sins can’t be atoned for; you just bear them on your back and keep on keeping on, hoping that somehow you can become a better person through it all. He hoped he was getting there.

Save me?” Seidou repeated to him, and erupted in harsh cackling. He opened his arms to Roppi in turn, his eyes wide and somehow despairing. “How?”

“We’ll just have to find out,” Roppi told him with sincerely apologetic tones, and he jumped on the chance, lashing out at Seidou with the Harrowing Blade and succeeding in clipping him on the cheek, his pale skin contrasting with the gradual drip of crimson.

“Do you really think—that a little knife… could…?” Seidou paused, a tremor running through his body and releasing in a hunched-over posture. He brought his thin fingers to his cheek, hands trembling just slightly in something that could easily have been disbelief. “What the hell…

Roppi began to backtrack towards where the others were waiting. “Seidou, we’ve gotta do this for a second. I just want you back.”

“Did you really think that cutting my fucking face was gonna help?!” Seidou snapped, his eyes wild. “You’ve always been nothing but a piece of SHIT; why should I believe YOU, of ALL PEOPLE, when you’re the one who never paid a lick of attention to ME?!” Seidou took a step forward. Roppi backed up a little bit faster. “TELL ME, Roppi, when YOU’RE the one who ran away from us! WHY SHOULD I BELIEVE ANY OF YOU?! I’d rather kill every last one of you—!”

Every one of us?” Roppi cut in. “Me? Kaneki? Shintaro—?”

Seidou brought his hands over his eyes. “I’ve ALWAYS hated Shintaro! That spineless prick was nothing but one of those straight-A motherfuckers who never gives a SHIT. He DROPPED OUT when he was the best of the best! You can’t get more careless than that!” Suddenly his tone dropped. It seemed that the temperature did, too. “You don’t know… he doesn’t know… the difference between a 99 and a 100. It is not a—one point gap… It’s the difference between a success and a failure.” And just as quick, he snapped back: “I WAS A FAILURE, ROPPI. And I’m fucking SICK of it! I’m sick of it! Sick! Sick! Sick!” He dragged his hands down his face. “Sick… I hope he wants to die. I hope you want to die. I hope you both fall into the deepest pits of self-loathing, and then I hope you live long enough to SUFFER that. I hope that even then, neither of you have the GUTS to actually DIE—yeah, yeah, you’re right, you were right, Roppi, that’s right, because I know and you know that a lot a lot a lot of SHIT HAPPENED but HEY, WHO GIVES A SHIT ANYWAY?! Why do you care?! YOU DON’T. You – and everyone else – just wants to get rid of another fucking INCONVENIENCE that is ME; it’s ME; it’s ME and I’m PROUD OF IT, YOU MOTHERFUCKERS! At least that means I did SOMETHING right, even if it’s being wrong! Right? RIGHT?”

“Seidou, that’s not true—!”

“SHUT UP!” Seidou screamed, his clenched fists held at his sides. Roppi was struck with the image of a child throwing a tantrum, and almost laughed before he was grabbed by the shoulders and flung into the nearest building. He thought he heard a door opening somewhere and wondered if maybe that was Akira following her cue.

Somehow he still found himself laughing. This, he thought mildly, is where shit gets real, huh?

Among the trees, Konoha and Shintaro were huddled amongst the underbrush. Kaneki had already headed to the midpoint between the safe group and the action group, and Shirou was already stationed in the building. It was him who was to give Akira the signal – right now the officer was waiting in the building with him, just on a lower floor. They were in one of those tall rooms with a spiral staircase going up and up – they could communicate with one another alright despite the fact they were on different floors.

Shintaro watched the scene unfold with bated breath. Back when Roppi and Seidou were just talking, he kept mumbling to himself, hoping all was well. It was strange to see him – Seidou, that is… like a wraith in the rain. Strangely, he recalled a legend told by his late father, in which one may hear a ghost train’s whistle blowing only in the midst of a heavy storm. The rain was coming down in sheets, now, and staring intently at Roppi and Seidou, he idly thought about where the train may lead. He wondered whether Seidou had been there. Maybe Kaneki had, too. Maybe it was beyond him. Of course it was.

“You talk to yourself a lot,” Konoha murmured to him, and Shintaro stiffened, face flushing in embarrassment.

“I’m worried,” he admitted, just as quiet.

“I am also scared,” Konoha had agreed.

But as the scene continued and they huddled there pressed to the trunk of a tree and peering around it in an almost comical fashion, Shintaro began to feel his android friend trembling at his side. “Mm?” He turned to Konoha, concerned. The albino’s eyes were wide and troubled. “Wh-what is it?”

“Two people are gone,” Konoha said faintly.

“Gone? Like, what do you…?”

The look on his friend’s face told him that they were dead. “Someone’s coming closer… Th…that person is coming closer.”

“Closer? How much closer?” Shintaro pressed. “We’ve gotta let everyone know.”

“Yes, that is a good idea,” Konoha confirmed nervously. “It’s good. That’s good.”

“How close?” Shintaro repeated.

“He…” Konoha’s eyes hazed over for a moment, and then Shintaro found himself with his back slammed to the wet ground, Konoha overtop him.

“Ow.” He grimaced, his back already feeling the bruise that would inevitably form. “What…” He looked to where Konoha was looking only to find that creepy kid who’d played hide-and-seek with them, crouching there without a cape now, just red eyes and a terrible smile. A-ya was his name, right—and he was possessed by…

Ah, Recorder,” the boy grinned in hissing tones. “Seems that the vessel protected you this time. How nice.” As A-ya straightened, so too did Konoha stand.

Shintaro struggled to sit up, horrified. No way, we can’t afford anything like this!

A-ya shrugged. “I almost kicked you right in the head,” he said in two voices. What a creepy little trick. “You should be grateful. You’d be dead so easy if it weren’t for him. Not that I want to kill you so quick this time. Not that I want to kill you at all, really. But that’s a matter of preference,” they said, and laughed.

“You can’t hurt Shintaro,” Konoha said firmly, taking a protective step in front of the red-jerseyed one.

Oh? Why not?

“Because I won’t let you,” he said, and the other one laughed.

This guy, Shintaro thought, amazedly staring at his albino friend. Everyone else was so damned impressive! Why was he so lame? “Kh…Konoha,” he spoke up, and realized how weak he sounded. He tried again. “Konoha, if you fight this guy—you might…”

“…become somebody else again?” Konoha finished solemnly. “I don’t want that,” he admitted. “But I want to protect you, now. Because I can protect you. Do you understand this?”

“I… yeah…”

A-ya sighed heavily, looking to the rain-drenched canopy above. “What is it, to ‘protect’ someone? Mm, I guess it doesn’t matter…

Shintaro thought about how cool it was to see scarlet and watermelon orbs both hovering in the dark as the dark-clad one attacked. Then he mentally scolded himself for being an idiot and scrambled to find the walkie-talkie in the dark – he’d dropped it when Konoha had pushed him to the ground. Upon finding it, he activated it without hesitation, opened his mouth, closed it, and turned it off. What do I say? He tried again. “We have—um, interference over here. It’s—the snake demon. Konoha’s fighting him right now.”

He released the button, hoping and praying that it would work like it was supposed to.

“Do we halt the plan?” Shirou’s voice.

“Is he away from Roppi and Seidou?” Kaneki, serious and firm.

His steady voice brought Shintaro some relief. “He’s not involved—Konoha’s got him distracted for now. He wants my head, but at this point I think he’d be happy with killing anyone…”

“Do you need help down there?” Shirou.

“Should we intervene?” Shinichi.

“Nobody leave their stations,” Kaneki ordered.

“Roger,” said Shirou.

“…Roger,” said Shinichi.

“Shintaro,” said Kaneki, “I’m on my way to you right now. I’ll help Konoha. Is the plan already under way?”

Shintaro peered through the haze of rain and the cover of darkness. “I think Seidou’s just been harrowed—I don’t…”

“Then we’ll keep going. Keep A-ya away from them as best you can. I will be there as soon as possible.”

“O-okay,” said the NEET, and he listened to the line go silent. With a gulp, he braced himself for a lot more of stress on top of stress as he shakily grabbed Roppi’s machine gun, eyeing Konoha and A-ya staring each other down while keeping an ear out for Seidou’s screams.

Roppi, on the other hand, could only hear ringing now, using the wall as support, getting to his feet and watching as Seidou appeared in front of him. The annoying ringing in his ears thankfully dimmed. “Really, though,” the bitter one chuckled weakly, “even though you were slightly dickish, you weren’t that bad of a guy. You were no failure – you were just being human. Humans make mistakes, right? Like you’re making now?”

“You have no—fucking—clue,” Seidou growled, acid on his tongue. “I wasn’t so great. I wasn’t a good guy. You know it. YOU KNOW IT.”

“You don’t understand.” Roppi smiled a weary smile. “I want to thank you, Seidou.”

“Why thank me?” he asked, derisive. “Why thank me? Why? Because I make you look good? DON’T MOCK ME, DAMN IT.” With Seidou grasping at his neck, Roppi found that he’d lost his grip on the Harrowing Blade. He’d begin to lose grip on consciousness, too, if Seidou kept this up.

“Are you going to kill me?” Roppi asked him, and watched through bleary, rain-soaked eyes. “Is that what you’re going to do? Go ahead and do it, Seidou. Go ahead and do it. I’ve stared death in the face all these years; why should I shy away from it now? Even though…” Roppi didn’t think that rain often was so warm, nor did he recall it tasting of salt. “Isn’t it strange? Maybe… I don’t want to die after all.”

Seidou’s icy grip tightened around Roppi’s neck, but his eyes widened, uncertainty flickering there. “…I…”

A strong, cool voice pierced the half-ghoul straight through his rib cage: “Takizawa, put him down!

The half-ghoul turned to her – Akira stood with her pale hair plastered to either side of her face. Her quinque was grasped firmly at her side, and Seidou’s gaze skipped over her face and to her weapon, his eyes filling with further outrage. Roppi was dropped carelessly to the ground, where he held his throat tenderly and watched as Seidou began approaching Akira. Would this work? He really, really hoped so. He envisioned him leaping to her and decapitating her; he envisioned her putting him out of his misery once and for all. Keeping his red eyes set on the two facing each other, he berated his train of thought and wished he’d stop thinking about the more negative of outcomes.

“You ARE planning to kill me,” he growled. “What the fuck? What did I do? Huh? HUH?”

“I’m using this,” Akira answered calmly, “as a mechanism of defense—not offense.”

“I don’t believe you,” Seidou said flatly, taking a step back. “Why should I? Huh, Mado? You weapon-obsessed, asexual bitch!”

She seemed unfazed by the insult. “Don’t you understand? Takizawa…”

Don’t talk to me like that,” he bit out. “I’m not an idiot. What is there to understand?”

Her brow was creased. He noticed that much. “That it wasn’t that I wanted you to die. That’s the last thing I wanted. I…” She hesitated, searching for words. He narrowed his eyes, never looking at her directly. He allowed the darkness and the rain to shroud his vision. “It was never that I didn’t like you, Takizawa. From the beginning… there was something about you that I envied.”

Another step back. Incredulousness. “What could you possibly have to envy about me?” he snapped.

He couldn’t help but spot the smile that crossed her mouth, and, unwillingly, his eyes met hers in the dark. Lightning illuminated their features just long enough for her face to be burnt into his empty eyes. “Takizawa,” she said, and to his surprise, she began approaching him, gently setting her quinque on the rain-soaked ground. “Day by day, throughout the academy, I blew through all of our classes. You know this. But I never really saw it as anything like an accomplishment. Why should I, if I didn’t need to put effort into it? That isn’t what’s worth it. It never has been. It’s hard work that deserves respect, and really…” She paused, gathering her thoughts. Compartmentalize. Compartmentalize. How could she compartmentalize this anymore? “Never once have I known what to do with any one of my beliefs. And so… always… I’ve admired your passion.”

There was a momentary pause. His lids widened. “My…?”

What was that? Previous frustrations of underserving heroes simmered somewhere within the ice of his insides. She continued approaching. He took another step back. She stopped. So did he. “Knowing that you would spend hours in the library, studying so earnestly… Knowing how much you cared for the cause you fought for—yes, the fact that you were fighting so hard at all… It all struck me as honorable. Everything you did, you did it because you thought it was right.” She paused again, and the lightest laugh escaped her, nostalgic and leaden with something he couldn’t identify. He didn’t think he’d ever heard such a thing escape her – wait. There was once, when she had said the words, ‘you don’t know how happy I am to see you.’ Was that really what she said, there, in the hospital?

“Well, when you were bickering with me, I wouldn’t call that motivation ‘justice.’ That was something altogether different, wasn’t it?” He hated the gentle face she was making. “I was almost frightened that you really did hate me, Takizawa. But before this happened to you… here, in this game, that is… Though years apart, I like to think that we communicated just a little bit better. Because—you told me you were happy to work with me, didn’t you? You told me that the game of one-up you try so hard at… You said it was fun. And for you to say you were thankful for my position as your obstacle to overcome… I can’t help but say I’m thankful for you, too. The truth is that—after you went missing, you don’t know how much I missed you – you and Amon both. If I could just—get through to you somehow, I’d… I’d want you back.”

“You’re lying,” he said through withered lips. She must have been unable to hear him, because she did not respond. Maybe she did hear him, but didn’t know how to prove her own words, because how could anyone prove something so purely rooted in emotion, something so deeply abstract? And of course, it was Akira Mado, and Akira Mado didn’t know how to do emotion. No, this couldn’t have been, could it? Because Akira Mado was everything he wasn’t, and for him to have been so jealous of her successes, there was no way that she… could experience envy towards him, who was never… not ever, enough.

“Please,” she said. But he couldn’t hear her anymore, either.

In the underbrush of the forest, Shintaro watched Konoha drop a tree over the dark-clad demon just in time. The android, knowing full well that it would only slow down the enemy, dropped to one knee, clutching at his abdomen and breathing hard. Shintaro could imagine blood blossoming on his lower torso, but could only make out something like a black splotch there in the dark. Swallowing, Shintaro pointed the machine gun at the branches of the fallen tree, witnessing the emergence of the possessed kid. It reminded him of a demon crawling out of hell, or some boss respawning after the first stage of the final battle. The shut-in felt a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach, as heavy as the machine gun in his lap.

This was so not a video game.

He closed his eyes. “Think of it like a first-person shooter,” he told himself under his breath, the gun trembling with his clammy hands. Or maybe it was the rain that made his hands slippery. He liked to think it was the rain. “Pretend it is just a video game…” My friend is risking his life for me; I have to help him out. The shut-in felt that it surely had been far too long since he had made contact with Kaneki, but cognitively he knew that somehow, it had only been thirty seconds or so.

Konoha’s watermelon orbs were tired and worn as they looked up at the already-recovered serpentine enemy. The dark-clad demon seemed to smile down at him, but that could have been Shintaro’s imagination. “Don’t hurt him, either,” he breathed, and screwed his eyes shut against the saturated air. He inhaled deeply. “Don’t hurt Konoha, either!” he shouted, and he saw both pairs of luminescent orbs look to him. “D-don’t test me!” Speaking so boldly, he felt just bold enough to cock the gun, and did so. “I—just because I’m a shut-in doesn’t mean I can’t take you down!”

That low chuckle sent shivers down his spine. “What was that?” asked the serpent, and Shintaro felt sure that this was what it would feel like for one’s blood vessels to freeze over.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled pitifully, and laughter erupted in both voices.

So you’ve learned to talk for yourself, but you still can’t do a thing!” And he cackled. “This game will begin again; maybe you’ll do better next time.” He shrugged with an air of offhanded apology. “But in order for the game to reset; in order for the game to move, people need to die. But you understand that by now, don’t you?

Anger struck him. He couldn’t speak. He could not put this rage into words. How could he?

Konoha was at his feet, a look of diligence shining there in his pink eyes. Lightning illuminated the scene and burned the image into Shintaro’s photographic memory. It was like a flash from a picture frame—and he hated it; he hated it because he knew that it ruined what little night vision he had acquired, and he hated it because the lightning had a kind of reddish quality to it and that meant this kid might be contributing to it, and he hated it because that meant it was a blaspheme of the color of heroes, and god damn it, he was sick of all this overthinking…

But he didn’t think at all when Konoha widened his stance to brace himself and the dark-clad demon began to crouch, ready to pounce and maybe fry Konoha’s android self with the lightning… No, he didn’t think at all when he pulled the trigger and felt the surprising kick of the firearm, the spurts of light from the gunpowder blinding him further. He quickly stopped, appalled with the sheer loudness, and the way it hurt, kicking back into the crook of his elbow – he could barely hold the thing in the first place. But most of all he was appalled that he had pulled the trigger himself, that he had actually done it.

And amazingly, it had stopped A-ya… the demon… whoever, in their tracks. Hissing in distaste, he fell into a protective crouch. As the lightning lit the sky again, he saw he was clutching at his arm where the bullets had found their mark. Shintaro also saw Konoha’s look of flummoxed shock. He blinked with eyes that were likely as lost as Shintaro looked. Not that he could tell.

You little BRAT, I didn’t think you could pull it off, really—pull the trigger, that is—maybe you’re interesting yet, Recorder.” He laughed evermore. “Cute! How cute!

Konoha, who had lifted a heavy branch in the meantime, came down on the dark-clad one with brute strength, swinging it down with all his force. A-ya dodged, but the trunk he’d stood on split under the force.

Shintaro didn’t want to shoot anymore. Not like this. Not in the dark. Not with Konoha so close. He thought he saw the dark-clad demon pause, cocking his head. “The King is here,” he remarked, and bounded backwards as who could only be Kaneki descended from the canopy above, his six scaled appendages pointing towards the possessed one. The half-ghoul crashed down beside Konoha, and A-ya began to speak again. “After all, the evil hero—it was me.” They tittered. “I won’t be the underdog anymore, right? That’s—my underdog supremacy doctrine.” He dodged another quick attack from Kaneki and Konoha and, as A-ya crouched sideways against the tree he’d leapt to, everyone looked on in horror as he rebounded from his place and kicked off of the body of the tree, shooting right through all of them and into the fray of the confrontation of Seidou Takizawa.

And Seidou Takizawa the half-ghoul stood frozen in place as Akira approached again. He found himself paralyzed. He was on fire, and these weren’t pleasant flames. He wondered whether the word ‘shame’ was applicable.

“Seeing you, Takizawa, I’m… sad,” she said. As if she should feel anything. As if she could understand sad. Did she know the meaning of fear, no, terror? Her small hands almost reached up to him, he didn’t know for what. He never wanted to think of the adjective ‘gentle’ when he looked at Akira Mado. In any case, she decided against the gesture.

“I know that you’ve suffered things that I couldn’t imagine,” she said. As if that made things any better. Seidou felt like he’d eaten cement. “But also…” She staggered, and at first Seidou couldn’t imagine why her hands were pressed just below her rib cage, just like he couldn’t imagine why it was that her eyes looked wetter than the rain.

The firmament’s downpour finally slowed. The shower of her regret did not.

“Mado. What… are you doing,” he said. The cement had gotten caught in his esophagus, caking his larynx. It seemed to be solidifying in his lungs, too, because he found that he couldn’t breathe.

Her lips were like crimson autumn leaves, trembling in the wind. “Do you know…?” she continued, curling her fingers tighter around something that was emerging there from beneath her ribcage. He didn’t want to know that there was someone just behind her. With the placement of such assault, he felt as breathless as she. “I—won’t… stop now. I need to say this much… Takizawa… because… You know… how many times, I thought of this?” She was smiling at him. She was smiling at him.

“Stop,” he ordered her faintly.

“What if… back then, I… had stopped you?” she whispered. Her nails dug into the flesh of the hand that stabbed through her abdomen. She would not let go.

Now he couldn’t help but notice what was wrong with the picture. It stood out and throbbed in his vision, in his chest. He felt the cement straining to break, or maybe that was how it felt when cement dried inside of you. “St…o…”

But she persisted. “That night… when…”

And with a final crack and a sodden splurch, the dark-clad hero yanked his arm from Akira’s body, taking her insides with him and spraying red all over himself. Her front was intact save for the gaping hole in her gut. Seidou felt himself pressing pause. He took a deep breath, like his insides had become a vacuum. Empty. He was leaving himself in suspension.

Her face was still struck with unspoken pain, the regret that spilled over only now, with the rain.

A-ya’s young face began to glow. Something deep in his eyes died just a little bit.

Roppi had scrambled to his feet, but the look on his face made it plain that he didn’t know what he could do against a demon.

Akira fell limp into Seidou’s arms; he felt her weight, holding her in such disbelief that he couldn’t tell whether the deadweight was heavy or light. Maybe it was heavy in his mind but light in his arms. Maybe it was the cement that weighed so much. His eyes were trembling in his sockets. The cement had caught him; he was becoming a statue.

Seidou witnessed a serpentine grin as A-ya cradled his wrist, now broken. He laughed lowly, teetering from one position to another on feet that seemed so unsteady. Seidou could not make out anything he was saying, nor could he quite process why Roppi got between him and the possessed, his arm outstretched to the side. Seidou could only process the haziness of his own vision, the throbbing of his head, the cement that asphyxiated him, the breath he was holding, and the incomprehensible feelings that were threatening to explode from somewhere he thought was dead.

All at once, he released his breath with a scream that shattered even the cement of his lungs: “I SAID STOP IIIIT!”

Roppi turned to him. His eyes were filled with something he didn’t want to look at, but Seidou couldn’t see him anymore anyway. “Sei—” Roppi began, and the half-ghoul beheaded him in one swipe, sending his cranium flying over to the edge of the forest beyond. Shrieking unintelligibly, he blindly lashed out at A-ya, too, only for the possessed one to swiftly move around him and begin sprinting away from everyone and into the city, his face touched with satisfaction. He shoved Roppi’s headless body to the side, and it crumpled to the ground as if realizing that it was no longer animate. Akira’s body was left on the asphalt, still running with water. Seidou was not aware of these facts, only that there was movement ahead and he couldn’t stand its existence. Releasing another scream of raw outrage, he started towards the movement ahead only to be distracted by a foreign attack to his shoulder. He halted, looking in the direction from which the attack had originated. He bared his teeth at Shirou Emiya, who was pointing a weapon at him from up above. Another crystal shard hit home and, yanking out the projectiles from his flesh, Seidou went for Shirou instead.

Shirou backed off from the window the moment he saw Seidou go into a crouch. He brought his walkie-talkie to his ear, reconsidered, and then said into it, “Kaneki, stay back,” before he tossed the contraption to the side. He knew what the order would be now – this man had killed Roppi; so now Seidou Takizawa was to be exterminated. There has to be a better way, he thought, even as Seidou burst through the window with wings of vermilion, his ghoul eye shining red in the dark.

The redhead shot again at the ghoul with what Shirou reminded himself was once Seidou Takizawa’s weapon, but the wraith ran straight into the attack – Shirou threw the crossbow forward and ran towards the stairwell, muttering under his breath the words “Trace on.” As his dual short swords materialized in his hands with a crackle of teal, he heard Seidou pause at the railing. As it was a spiral staircase, Shirou could stare over the expanse and into the shadowy figure of Seidou, a level above him but otherwise directly across from him. And as Seidou jumped over the gap and directly to where Shirou stood, the archer could just make out Seidou’s features, contorted into a horrid grimace that might have also been a distorted smile. His single human eye was empty as empty could be.

“You’re going to kill me!” he cried as the ghoul smashed the wall behind him, and the redhead proceeded to take a leap of faith and jump the railing, falling three more stories before reaching ground. Midair he could sense the vibration of the building around him. Though it was too dark now to be really sure, he thought that perhaps Seidou was demolishing the stairwell in its entirety. When Shirou landed, he landed unevenly, tumbling and somersaulting into a more stable position. He remained low for some time, unsure of where Seidou could be.

Is it that he’s still harrowed, too? He wondered, stance wide as he listened carefully for where Seidou might appear from the black. Or is that already cured? This could just as easily be a natural reaction to the death of Akira. Shirou screwed his eyes shut. His heart ached. No time for grief, not yet.

Shirou wheeled around to block an attack from the half-ghoul with his blades, teeth gritted. “Oi! Seidou Takizawa!”

An feral growl was his answer, and he was sent skidding backwards into a pile of jagged debris.

Shirou did not back down. “Hey! Don’t ignore me!”

Seidou, in the midst of a blackout, could not understand his request. Shirou clashed with him again without breaking through to him.

“I didn’t want Akira to die either, so please! You’ve gotta listen, just for a little bit!”

Shirou’s body broke a hole through the solid wall, and he found himself under the open sky, unmercifully dark. He didn’t hesitate to get back to his feet, blocking Seidou again with effort.

“A—ki…”

“Yes, Akira Mado!” Shirou tried again. Blood was running from his forehead and into one of his eyes. The stinging was distracting, but it wasn’t like he could be blinded in the dark. “It’s not over yet, Seidou! I still want to save you!”

His speech was disjointed; broken. “Don’t—know what—you mean.”

“I want to help, Seidou, but you need to calm—” he was grabbed by the throat, and as he struggled for air, he dropped his swords and they dissipated in a collection of teal sparks.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT, HUH?”

…T…ra…ce, on,” Shirou choked out, and stabbed Seidou in the side with the quinque dagger that Akira used in-game.

“Don’t hurt,” he tittered, tightening his grip.

“What—are you trying to do? Seidou…”

“Do? Do what? Do nothing!”

“Damn it,” he spoke through gritted teeth, and lifted the blade to his own throat, hoping that Seidou would back off before Shirou had even gotten through the black-nailed fingers gripping his neck. The half-ghoul seemed to remember that he couldn’t heal, and released him before he lost his fingers. The dagger dissipated, and Shirou regenerated his two short swords, breathing hard. “You don’t have to die. No one has to die. That doesn’t mean—it hasn’t happened… But it shouldn’t have to. Listen. You still can be saved, I’m sure of it.”

He seemed to be coming out of his murderous stupor, laughing madly. “How’s that? Huh? Huh? I killed Roppi! I killed Roppi! There’s no going back from that! There isn’t!”

“Whatever happened to your ideal, Seidou?” Shirou asked him, desperate.

“It was BULLSHIT!”

Shirou dodged his sudden barrage of attacks as best he could, earning a few unneeded gashes on his side. “But isn’t it true that you used to believe in that? Isn’t that true? This isn’t what you fought for, was it? Are those dreams really extinguished?”

“SHUT UP!” Seidou snapped, sending him flying into where he’d sent Roppi the first time. “Go to Hell.

“I’ve already been there,” Shirou smiled weakly, and Seidou raised an arm to dig into the redhead’s chest when he heard the sound of shoes slamming on the pavement. He turned his bitter face to the direction of the noise – it was the red-jerseyed Shintaro, jogging desperately towards the scene as fast as his shut-in everything would allow.

“Wait!” he cried. “Wait! Please, wait! Stop! Please! Please, god, stop!”

Seidou paused, lowering his hand, if slightly. He looked confused to see him running through the dark.

“Don’t… Don’t hurt anybody… anymore… Please… Please…” The NEET was gasping for air. “Seidou… I’m sorry… I’m so, so sorry…”

Seidou blinked at him. “…What.” His eyes flickered to the movement beyond – what, Kaneki and the android, huh? His brow furrowed as he eyed Shintaro with his machine gun, and he took a step back in surprise. “Wait… Did they send you to kill me? Is this for real? What?” Bringing a hand to his pale face, he began to laugh, distorted and cruel. “YOU? A shut-in? HAH!”

“Seidou, I—I just want—” He choked down his pathetic tears. “I just want you back. Is that so much?”

Seidou halted again. “Huh?”

“Y…you deserve to be saved too!” Shintaro said firmly, but his conviction was dampened by the scowl he could just make out. “This is starting to sound really dumb and repetitive, I know… This is like a really poorly done redemption arc of an anime. Um…”

“I just killed Roppi,” he spat. “If this is a show of teammate empathy, it’s very stupid. I just killed the only other group member besides us! How can you possibly think that now? Why? You can’t be serious!”

“I know what you did,” Shintaro said, his voice trembling. “But if Kaneki can be scary when he loses it, then, you’re allowed to lose it too, sometimes, right? Konoha’s body killed Psyche and Delic, right? And…” He shook his head. “So…”

Seidou cackled, turning to Shintaro even as Shirou’s vision faded. His head had been injured, and he was beginning to spiral into the abyss of unconsciousness. “You say you want to save me? Go ahead and TRY, Shintaro…” With a terrible grin and spread arms, Seidou approached the hikkiNEET. He quirked an eyebrow, sneering as Shintaro began backing up. “What? I bet you could last a good three seconds against me… Do you think?”

“Seidou, I don’t want to fight you! Don’t you get it?! The others will have to get rid of you! They’re already—”

“WELL I WON’T LET THEM,” Seidou bellowed. “Because I DON’T WANT TO! I don’t want to—!”

“—die?” Shintaro finished. “Well—neither did Roppi.”

Seidou’s mouth twisted into another scowl. “Do you really think you can do anything for me here?” As he stepped forward, his foot knocked against something small and metallic. Seidou wondered if perhaps that was the blade that Roppi had cut his face with.

“I—I know you might hate me,” Shintaro conceded. “There’s no way I can get through to you the way that… well…” He didn’t want to say Akira’s name. Who knew how Seidou would react? “No, hear me out…”

“No promises. How about I give you ten seconds instead? Then maybe you can get a sentence or two in.”

“Uhh…” Shintaro swallowed. “Thanks, I guess—” He took a deep breath, ready to speak quickly. Could he really make his point that fast? He guessed he’d just have to. “Seidou, I know that something happened that none of us know, but I can say this: that no matter what you did, or what you’ve done, or what you’re doing—you’re still the same guy that led us from the very beginning. You’re still the same guy who—”

“Time’s up,” Seidou sneered, but Shintaro only continued.

Do you know how much it meant for you to come into my room and apologize that night?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore, does it?”

“It does matter, Seidou!” It was Shintaro’s turn to snap. “Because I left to save Roppi thinking that if I could save one person then maybe I could feel like I was worth saving too. And I felt like maybe I could do that, because you inspired me to think that maybe, just maybe, I’m worth trying for. And god damn it, Seidou, I wanted to bring him back and to bring the medical bag back and I wanted to save Touka and—and I wanted to make you proud, Seidou! I—wanted to make you proud… Do you know why? Do you?”

The way Seidou could not find an answer told him that he did not.

“Did you read the note I left you? I called you a hero, Seidou, but—I don’t think you could possibly know why: you saved me, Seidou… You saved me, and that alone is proof that you’re worth saving. Because—even if you weren’t ever what you wanted, you were my hero.”

Seidou stared at him through the dark, a wraith swaying amongst the saturated shadows.

“Doesn’t that matter, Seidou? Doesn’t that matter at all?”

The clouds began to part, just enough for the moon to peek from beyond the black. In the new light, Shintaro could make out his friends – Konoha, Kaneki – one poised atop the building and the other peering from the far corner on ground behind Seidou, waiting to put him down like a dog. Shintaro’s grey eyes widened. No… Just a little longer… “Shirou was fighting for you all this time, too… You know? He has faith in you…”

Seidou’s eyes had flickered to the side, and Shintaro worried that maybe he knew they were there. Or maybe he was hoping he knew. He couldn’t tell. “You want to save me from dying?” Seidou asked Shintaro slowly, and the red-jerseyed one nodded cautiously, almost suspicious.

“Um… Yeah, that’s part of the point…” He swallowed again. His throat was desert dry.

Seidou smiled eerily, and Shintaro got an uneasy feeling. Not that he wasn’t already uneasy. “Alright,” he said, and as Kaneki and Konoha began to move, Seidou scooped up the weapon left by Roppi on the ground with his fingers, jumping up and then landing behind Shintaro, where he hooked his arm around his neck and pointed the edge of the Harrowing Blade at Shintaro’s throat. Kaneki landed on ground, but froze. Konoha stopped short in his tracks.

Shintaro suddenly remembered what fear was and how unpleasant it could be. Seidou didn’t know what that blade did – if he were even to threaten him by drawing blood, then it was over. The thought of losing control of his own thoughts and emotions like that—at this point, after coming as far as he had… it was a terrifying, terrifying thought. He strained to make his neck smaller and couldn’t tell whether he was making things better or worse.

Seidou,” Kaneki’s voice was soft but firm. Imploring. “You don’t know what that is; please… Let Shintaro go.”

“I do not want anyone else hurt,” Konoha agreed. Shintaro was somewhat astounded to find that Konoha’s eyes were spilling with tears. “I…That is, my friend, you see. And even though Roppi said that we needed to save you, I don’t know… what to do.”

Seidou’s eyes narrowed. “You’re planning to kill me—you two are, aren’t you? That’s the start to an apology speech—if I didn’t have Shintaro here, that is. Well I ain’t letting him go. So back off.”

Kaneki’s lips thinned. “Seidou, we won’t hurt you. Please, release Shintaro. He shouldn’t be dragged into this.”

“I don’t believe you,” Seidou hissed, taking a step back. Shintaro scrambled to join him in pace, not wanting the blade any closer to his neck than it already was. It was so scarily, tantalizingly close. He didn’t dare speak. He didn’t dare breathe. Shintaro felt as though even his own heart was holding its breath for him – he was suspended in suspense. “So what I’m going to do,” Seidou continued, nice and slow, “…is I’m going to take Shintaro here hostage.”

Oh, you’ve got to be kidding. Shintaro refrained from erupting into hysterical laughter.

“You don’t want me hurting him, do you? So I’m going to take him with me, and you won’t lay a hand on me, either, so long as you don’t want him hurt. Alright?”

“Not to question your character, Seidou-san…” said Kaneki, “…but how can we believe you when you say you won’t hurt him?”

Seidou merely smiled cruelly, his eyes shrouded. “I guess you’ll just need a little bit of ‘faith,’” he jeered. With a snicker, he grabbed Shintaro by the waist with his other arm and, without any further warning, jumped away with him into the night.

Konoha almost jumped after them, but Kaneki, his eyes overcast, stopped him. The android paused, his body trembling, perhaps thunder in accompaniment to the rain in his eyes. “Does this mean…” he said to Kaneki, “…that the plan did not work?”

 

Chapter 81: Sever

Chapter Text

 

It took some time for Izaya Orihara to stir again from his place on the sodden, blood-soaked earth. He lost his awareness of the world around him – the rain went unfelt and unheard. The thunder rolling and lightning flashing couldn’t reach him, not right now. He only heard silence; he only saw darkness, his forehead pressed against the cool grass. His initial outrage was short-lived, fizzling out into something like the night sky. Cold, empty, and endless. And yet, there was a nagging reminder tugging at his consciousness reminding him he was far from ‘eternal.’

When he finally raised his head, he felt numb in a way that he couldn’t tell was pleasant or dreadful. The clearing had been dimly lit – or perhaps his eyes had grown accustomed to the dark. Eyeing the now-visible moon, he thought perhaps that it was both. The forest was still dripping with rain, but the storm itself was over. The taste of iron permeated his mouth, coating his insides and tainting even the air he breathed, and so he spat to the ground, clearing his throat of thick blood. Wiping at his bloodied lips, he slowly got to his feet, using a tree for support.

His dark eyes scanned the ground, and the shine of his switchblade in the moonlight caught his eye. He took that carefully and pocketed it, one step closer to being at ease. Izaya saw, too, that the Prophet still lie discarded on the ground beyond his immediate reach. He tried to smile, but for some reason he’d forgotten how to. Instead he felt the corners of his mouth twitch into something closer to a grimace. “He left it,” he said aloud, and his raspy voice grated against his own ears. It sounded like a stranger, and for a moment this scared him before he disregarded it as having too much residue in his esophagus. Half-laughing, half-coughing, he pushed off of the tree to begin to the Prophet, slow and steady.

Though limping, he was perfectly capable of mobility. He wasn’t disqualified just yet. Sliding it into his plastic sheath, he paused. He didn’t quite know even what he was thinking about. Arms limp at his sides, Izaya looked at the moon again, wondering when the rain might have stopped. He couldn’t recall it ever ending. “Oh well,” he said eventually. His voice was so quiet, he wasn’t all too sure he’d spoken aloud.

He approached Suzuya and Twelve without expression. Twelve was laid out on his back, the cape draped over him – was it black again, or was that just the lack of light? – and Suzuya lay on his side, somehow reaching over to Twelve with his hand clutching at the terrorist’s covered chest. “Persistent kid,” Izaya commented, and he heard his words echo in his head as though someone else had spoken them. He didn’t feel quite in touch with himself, and attested it to the loss of blood.

Devoid of feeling, he knelt down at Twelve’s side and moved his arm from beneath the shroud. He hesitated for a moment – his hand was already so cold. “I wonder, did it end in fire or ice?” he uttered as he placed Twelve’s hand over Suzuya’s. “What was it like, Twelve?”

He struggled back to his feet again, holding his gut with one eye closed. This injury would become very troublesome very fast. There was nothing to do but keep going. Hearing distant explosions, he looked again to the sky empty of stars. He thought to count the casualty fireworks, but soon lost track, his train of thought swiftly derailed. “Look at that,” he said to no one. Twelve always enjoyed the thought of casualty fireworks. “Look at that.”

Izaya thought to himself that perhaps he should look for Celty. Yato implied he’d done something, but surely, surely it was a bluff. Yato may have been a God of Calamity, but Celty was a Dullahan, a creature that foretells inevitable death. “And if I find Celty-san,” he added to himself, “…then I know for sure that she can’t forget me.”

And even if it weren’t a bluff, well, that wouldn’t make a difference, right? Izaya would figure something else out, wouldn’t he? Of course he would. I don’t need ‘ties’ or ‘connections’, anyway, he thought as he trudged through the woods. I’ll prove him wrong. I told them; I haven’t needed those things. I never have.

So Izaya made it through the stretch of trees and across the open parkland that led him to a smoldering building. He stared at it for some time, as though entranced by the charred bones of the house that stood before him. It was some kind of premonition that led him to know what he’d see before he went to the front door and found it open. He stepped in without a word of greeting; he felt his mouth stretching over his face. Maybe he was smiling, but he couldn’t quite tell.

“Ah, Celty-san,” he said, spreading his arms. His eyebrows were clinched together. “How very unlike you – how could someone get the best of you so easily? I suppose you could argue the same for myself—” He paused, flashing bloody teeth in something that was meant to be bitter amusement. He felt electric on the inside. Was it invigorating? Irritating? Painful? “Really, though…”

He travelled the expanse of the room, his footfalls the only sound in the quiet. He leaned down, one hand clutching at his stomach, to lift the helmet that had rolled from her shoulders. When he went to her, he was lacking, again, in expression. The faint darkness that still trickled from her neck, visible in the moonlight from the window, lapped at his ankles. He felt like that darkness – he was a void. His everything was swallowed by… by…

“I don’t know why I’m talking to you, anyway,” he said, voice detached. “I know you’re dead, too.” He got down onto his knees beside her, and slowly, slowly rolled her over onto her back and off of the corpse of Yoh Takami. Izaya didn’t look at him.

Gently setting her helmet on her stomach as if it were her relic, he tugged at the corners of his own mouth and tried to smile at her. He thought his chest hurt, but assumed that was the injury of his abdomen. Could it have been? From the depths of the void, he began to feel this odd suppression, like some deep well within him that was just now threatening to boil over after having been drowned out for however long. The fact that he didn’t know what this was scared him. He imagined something from the oozing red of his gut reaching into his ribcage and clutching at his lungs like the cold hands of dread. He felt his breath catch in his throat, the sensation was so vivid. It was beyond the invigorating buzz of fear and into the realm of paralyzing terror. This feeling was doubling itself, and god, it was too quiet…

“Hey, Celty-san,” he said. “Will you be… my friend, now?”

And he looked at her cadaver and began to laugh, high and hysterical. He laughed because yes, she was dead, and so were Twelve and Suzuya and Minene; so was Yukine; so was Shizuo. He laughed because he hadn’t done a thing about it. He laughed because only now did he realize that he could have, should have. He laughed because he knew that he had demolished anything he might have forged with Yato, and he’d done it with his own hands. He laughed because now, with whatever Yato had done, he’d also lost anything he might have had with anyone else. He laughed because he knew he didn’t have much to lose anyway, if anything at all. He laughed because just then he realized that he couldn’t name a single person who cared about him. He laughed because this was all his own choice—because this was exactly what he wanted.

Abruptly, the laughter ceased, and he slammed his fist into the blackened wooden flooring once, twice, three times. Again. Again—his vision blurring as he lost himself in the motion. Eventually he stopped, curling forward and gasping for iron-flavored air with one hand clutching tightly at his stomach. He felt himself choking, he was being smothered by his own insides. It was cold. He was so cold. The word lonely occurred to him, but this, this was more than loneliness, no, he was far from anything he’d known – could he ever go home? And what was the point if no one would remember him? And who gave a shit anyway? Even if they were to know him, what difference did it make? For some reason, this only mattered to him now. But this sudden apprehension was something that came too little too late, and Izaya knew it.

He was swathed in red, his vision dipped in carmine. No one remembers me, he thought simply. Something terrible occurred to him: And they really wouldn’t have anyway, if I were to disappear.

Who was it that would care to glance at a report of Izaya Orihara’s death? The enemies who wanted him dead anyhow?

He felt horribly ill now. Whether it’s Shizu-chan or Akise-kun… Celty-san or A-ya-kun… Shinra, Yato, Shintaro, and the like… It wasn’t as though any of them actually liked me. Of course he’d already known this. He scoffed at the fact all the time. It was funny. So why did it so trouble him right now?

Trembling hands pressed to the warm wooden floor. Fingers raised, curling tightly around a switchblade he’d kept for however many years now. Did it really matter whether the world would end in fire or ice? Did it really matter whether this could have ended differently? Did it really matter, in the end, that he’d come here at all? Who did it make a difference for? What was he fighting for but to have just a little bit of control – to have something go his way? And what was the outcome he wanted, when he didn’t even know the answer to why he’d done – or not done – some of the things he did? What would the other members of this game recall of him but bitterness or strife? And that being said, wasn’t it the same way back home?

He felt himself flick the blade open. Who was Izaya Orihara, after all? It was another question he didn’t know the answer to. He needed answers. He felt the cool blade against the flesh of his neck, his eyes shut tight. Would Yato be happy if he were dead? Would he be angry? The latter thought made him smile and, feeling something breaking inside himself, he felt distantly that pressure was being applied to the vein that his knife was pressed to. Why should it make a lick of difference whether ‘Izaya Orihara’ even existed? Maybe it was even that he never had at all! Take this consciousness! Take this sense of being and throw it to the abyss! End it! End him! Would anyone even notice?

He wasn’t a part of his body anymore, floating midair among other misled ashes. Where were the sparks? They all would burn out, and no one pays any mind to a spark flickering out in the night sky. Vaguely, there was the sensation of warmth trickling down into the shallow dip behind his collarbone. Yes, Izaya would disappear after all, and then—

—And then what?

He returned to himself, and, horrified, dropped the knife to the ground with a yell. I don’t want to die, he thought, the cohesion of his mind running all together like his vision, why was everything so blurry? He couldn’t see a thing, the moonlight was shining against the dark floor, shining like a pond of crystal blue, wavering and unstable like—like…

Izaya scrambled backwards – his eyes, his throat, his chest; they burned… Bringing a palm to one of his eyes, he was shocked to discover a wetness that wasn’t blood. The taste of salt mixed with the taste of iron, a sickening combination. He felt his insides threatening to purge themselves again, and he held it in with both of his hands pressed to his parted mouth. His body heaved with something that might have been a laugh or maybe a sob – the act of weeping was one not in any of his memories at hand. Was it supposed to feel as though everything inside of you was swelling and spilling over in an uncontrollable flow of something inexplicably raw? And even with all of this spilling, he only felt the everything inside was only growing and swelling into something greater and greater, as if the more he disposed of it, the more there was left to get rid of. And now his chest, his chest was as clogged as his throat, as his cluttered mind…

He was choking again, and the red, this thick, sticky fluid of carmine, like the spatter people left behind on the pavement when they jumped—

He could see the red of his insides on the floor in the moonlight even though it looked black—and he could hardly believe it; he couldn’t breathe now and his vision was beyond blurry, becoming dark as he felt himself slipping; he was slipping from himself and the thought of being nothing but a spatter of red was—

I don’t want to disappear. His desperation was redoubling and tightening around his obstructed lungs – what a terribly human thing to do! I don’t want to disappear, he thought again, his nihilism metamorphosing quickly into a mind-numbing fear that consumed him like a conflagration known as trepidation; and the thought of how hopelessly, utterly alone he was—it was a feeling like being submerged into the waters of the arctic. I don’t want to—

And as he struggled to contain himself, it occurred to him that he was wrong, after all: no, it wasn’t that no one had cared for him at all, no, no, it was far worse than that. In a moment of vivid clarity, Izaya was transported to the memory of standing on watch with the alternate personality of himself, the boy with his face named Psyche kicking his feet back and forth, back and forth. And this kid, this twenty-one-year-old child, he looked at Izaya and smiled at him with shining pink eyes. And this guy, unbelievably, he tilted his head and said to him, “Izaya-san, we alternates like Roppi and I – of course we’re like you some way or another.” Spreading his arms wide and looking up to the moon above, he said to him, “That’s why I love everyone. I love everybody, just like Izaya-san – that’s right! Humans are the best! But I can do something that Izaya can’t, you know, because Psyche is still Psyche, and that’s different than being Izaya. No, I’m different because I love Izaya-san.” And Izaya remembered opening his unobstructed mouth in an attempt to interject, because why was that any different than Izaya, no, what was that supposed to mean? “That’s right,” Psyche said over the silence that now seized Izaya by the throat. “Something like that, like ‘love.’ For someone like Izaya, he won’t know it even if it’s right there in front of him. And that’s why I’ll always love, love, love Izaya Orihara!”

And so Izaya felt Psyche’s smile haunting him like the knowing look in the eyes of Akise. The way Yato would wrap his arm around his shoulders in some sort of comical companionship of mischief. The concerned shine to Shintaro’s luminescent eyes, or the look Shizuo gave him when he died; the look Twelve gave him just as he perished. And what was the first thing Celty had asked him but ‘Are you okay?’

And what had Izaya done? He turned away when Psyche was killed, merely disturbed by the thought of watching someone die who had his own face. Akise was someone he only clashed with, and he hadn’t done Yato any favors; that was for sure! Shintaro was someone he used as an interesting pawn, and Shizuo was the rival he hated more than anyone else! Wasn’t it true that Twelve had come right out and said it to him? And he had turned him away, just like every time before.

It was their hands Izaya could feel now, reaching into the hole Yato had left in his gut and threading their fingers through his ribcage as they pulled him apart, straining open his entire being and cracking his mind and body apart like opening a walnut or a Russian Matryoshka doll, they were opening him up and it hurt, it hurt, it hurt more than he ever imagined it could but they didn’t know that inside the shell of Izaya Orihara there was nothing, nothing at all.

And Izaya learned what it meant to be real, even as reality fell through on him and he ceased to exist. He learned to be real like Suzuya learned to be real, releasing a cry that Izaya couldn’t even perceive as his own voice. Knowing that no one would hear him and no one would care, he only grew louder in his bitter revelation. “I NEED IT,” he cried. “I NEEDED THEM.” And he wailed to no one for someone, somebody but there was nobody left.

And there, in that smoldering household, Izaya Orihara wept, screaming into empty air until there was nothing left but that god-forsaken silence.

 

Chapter 82: Nobody, Everybody

Chapter Text

 

The light of the moon lifted only some of the weight that night had brought the remaining players of the game. The storm was over, but the tragedy it had wrought was still potent and nigh unbearable.

Somewhere on the edge of the woods, static resonated from a walkie-talkie now lost in the wet grass. “It’s been a long time,” said the voice of Rin Tohsaka. “Please report when possible…

Kaneki the half-ghoul paused in his strife, having been tending to the injuries of Konoha first thing. He knelt there with frozen hands over the bandage that he should be tying off around the abdomen of the android. Konoha tilted his head at him, just as quiet as the other. Beside them, Shirou lay still, unconscious for the time being.

“It’s my fault,” Kaneki whispered, and even though Konoha didn’t understand a lot of things, he could tell, at least, that his words fell with the weight of something painful.

“I don’t think so,” Konoha answered him in his own soft voice. “This is just another summer day that turned red.” He watched Kaneki tie off the bandage then, his softly glowing eyes thoughtful. “I think that you are hurting because you think you could have something more—when really, everyone wanted to do more than what they could.”

“This has happened before,” Kaneki said hollowly. “My efforts not being enough…”

“It’s happened before,” Konoha confirmed. “I do not know how many times. There was once the story of a boy and a girl one summer… But ‘next summer’ never came. Somehow, I could never run fast enough to save either one of them. Even here, I always stop myself too late when my body betrays me the way it did. People go to sleep and don’t wake up all the time. No matter what I do, it—doesn’t change the ending, either… So I don’t think it is your fault at all; no…” The android began to tremble again; his eyes were inexplicably wet. Strange, he thought it wasn’t raining anymore.

“Nobody’s fault.” Kaneki’s eyes were closed. “Everybody’s.”

“Yes, something like that.”

“Yes… Something like that.”

“I hope Shintaro is okay,” said Konoha.

“Me too, Konoha,” said Kaneki. “Me too.”

And while Konoha put his shirt and undershirt back on, Kaneki went to Shirou Emiya in an attempt to judge the damage done. The redheaded one stirred as the casualty fireworks went off. His golden eyes reflected the explosions with some confusion. Kaneki counted seven of them. Seven people… Shirou sat up abruptly and went right back down again with a grimace. “Shirou-kun,” Kaneki smiled gently, “it’s alright. Shintaro left the medical bag here… So I will tend to you before we return to the others.”

“The—others,” Shirou repeated, still gathering his bearings. “Shintaro—wait… Where is he?”

“He was taken by Seidou,” Kaneki answered calmly, and as Shirou looked into the face of Konoha, running with tears, he understood.

“We—shouldn’t we go after them?”

“We can’t; not right now. We need to get you back to the others first—”

“No, I don’t care!” Shirou insisted. “I’m fine, see? We can head out right now!”

“We need to return to the others,” Kaneki reiterated firmly. “I’m sure Tohsaka-chan… will be pleased to see you alive.”

Shirou frowned deeply, his lips drawn into a thin line. He couldn’t argue that.

And Rin waited impatiently for an answer from one of them, pacing back and forth near the walkie-talkie.

“You know, Rin-chan, I don’t think pacing near it will change how fast they answer us,” said Hide with a grin, scratching at his temple.

“We should go after them,” she said tightly.

“We should remain here,” Shinichi said flatly.

Hide glanced over at the partial-parasite. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s not like I’m not worried or anything… I totally want to go after them and help, but I know that if we do that, we’ll probably only get in the way right now. They’re probably having some kinda intimate reunion! So we should let them do that.”

“If all went well, they should be able to at least tell us,” Rin growled.

Hide merely shrugged.

In the suburban development they currently housed in, Shinichi contemplated whether these homes would be even near up to par for Ciel Phantomhive. He supposed not, even though he thought they made for a pretty nice shelter himself. Looking to the sky from the window, he watched the casualty fireworks begin going off, one by one. One pink, three golden, two blue, and a red… Shinichi closed his eyes, knowing that surely, not everyone had made it. He didn’t open them even as Shirou Emiya finally reported in over the walkie talkie. Rin demanded to know whether he was alright, and he said he was, he was fine, so don’t worry, Tohsaka-chan, because you can’t rid of me that easily.

Shinichi listened and didn’t look when Hide asked the results in all tentativeness, and Rin went quiet. Shirou offered only static at first, until there was at last the explanation that Kaneki and Konoha were with him, and they were alright. Shintaro could still be okay, but right now he was taken in as a hostage by Seidou, and that was the only word he had.

Everyone had the sense not to ask about Akira. Everyone had the sense not to ask about Roppi.

“We’ll be heading back now,” said Shirou.

Shinichi opened his eyes again. He wondered what had gone wrong – was it Seidou himself, or was there interference? He envisioned the distorted expression of A-ya when he’d finally found him with his ebony cape and the eyes of the possessed.

I wonder, then… he thought, …how Yukiteru is doing. If he is still alive… I need to find him yet.

And that lost boy wandered the dark woods where the moon could not penetrate, calling for A-ya without response. Rika was at his heels with nothing to say. After the casualty fireworks went off, the ten-year-old beyond her years could no longer stand Yukiteru’s despairing voice calling into the silence. And so, going against the wishes of Hanyuu, she sped up her pace and grabbed Yukki by the cloak and tugged to get his attention. He ceased his calling and stopped short, turning to her in a jerking motion.

“Huh, what is it, Rika?” he asked blankly.

He had a tone about him that she didn’t very much like. But she smiled up at him anyway, in the dark, and she acted just as if it were all okay. “Yukiteru, it is getting late, that is so… Perhaps we should rest soon?”

“If you’re getting tired, I can levitate you if you want,” he offered distractedly.

She shook her head. “Yukiteru also needs rest… I don’t want Yukiteru to wear himself down, that is so.”

“Ah, I mean, I feel fine…”

“I would like for us to take shelter until morning. Can we do that, Yukiteru? You and I both need to recover. It is when we do not notice that it is most dangerous, nii…”

“Mm, I guess you might be right…” He began walking again. “It will be easier to find A-ya in the daytime anyway, I guess.” Rika was pleased to discover that he was leading them towards a shed hidden among the briars. She smiled slightly as Hanyuu huffed nervously behind her. The canopy parted here, and Yukiteru paused to look up into the moon. “Ah…”

“What is it, Yukiteru?” she asked.

“The sky…” He paused, and she could make out the dull nostalgia on his moonlit features. “…You can’t make out a single star tonight,” he said.

And yet, this was something that A-ya didn’t notice. Huddled in a building with shattered windows a few stories below him, he took shelter for the night with only himself and his possessor. He was back in the city, now, and figured he should remain on these streets for some time. Now, he was cradling his broken wrist, twisted by the hands of Akira Mado.

He had to say, he was impressed… For her to stop him from reaching through her to Seidou Takizawa, and then for her to hold him there for as long as she had—for her to break his wrist, he had to say that she was impressive. He had to give her that.

A-ya closed his eyes as he recalled it all in flickering colors. The thought of the boy – what was his name? Eerily, he had the same naturally red eyes as A-ya, though he looked strikingly similar to the one who had called himself ‘Izaya Orihara.’

He was cute, offered Saeru, and A-ya didn’t answer, looking distantly into the city his window overlooked. After his hand had torn through the blond woman, there was this boy, this boy he hadn’t met properly before who looked like the desperate one called ‘Izaya,’ okay…

A-ya knew there was a mystery there, but his thoughts were led straight forward rather than on the tangent of curiosity. This person – he thought his name might be Roppi – who had obviously been a part of the group of the girl, he stood up and stepped between him and the half-ghoul Seidou.

A-ya couldn’t quite fathom the idea, knowing that this guy was very much human, and A-ya was very much possessed by a demon, and Seidou was very much a ghoul—why would Roppi step between them that way? Seidou could fight for himself better than Roppi could, surely, considering Roppi was clearly human.

His thoughts scattered, A-ya tried to properly recall: he had said something to him, of course.

“You’re killing for nothing,” Roppi said to the dark-clad hero. “Don’t you understand? This game is nothing. It’s fake!”

And he had to pause. He had to. A-ya felt a clarity for a moment—just for that moment, yes, this person gave him the fleeting sensation of being determined and independent. And then he’d begun addressing Seidou the half-ghoul instead: “You need to get out of here. I came here to save somebody, damn it, so let me do it. I was serious, you know? The others will be here soon, and this possessed kid will have to back off. Until then, I want to make sure that you’re okay. That being said…” Maybe he knew that he would die. Maybe he knew that Seidou was too far gone to hear him. “‘…See you next time.’” Roppi was smiling with the same face that C-ta wore when he had the scissors in his neck, and—

—And then Roppi had turned to look at the half-ghoul, and just like that, he was dead.

You shouldn’t think too much about such things.

“I’m not,” A-ya answered, closing his eyes. “I’m just thinking that it was a terribly ironic way to go.”

That’s true, the serpent conceded. What’s the next plan, Loner?

“We’re working solo now, aren’t we?” A-ya mused aloud, and he sensed Saeru’s amusement at such a statement, even though the serpent didn’t comment on it. “It’s a good question: the next plan…” He thought of the way that man called ‘Izaya Orihara’ gripped at his vest, so desperate. What was that about?

Closing his eyes, A-ya shook his head. His thoughts were led, rather, to the deceased Twelve and the incapacitated Suzuya, now dead at the terrorist’s side. “You knew that they would be ambushed, didn’t you?”

Saeru didn’t answer, but he felt him smiling.

Chuckling, the young boy opened his eyes again, a smile ghosting over his lips. “Not that I could expect anything less. Thank you.”

He felt the serpent recoiling in wary confusion. You’re thanking me?

“Of course I am. Isn’t it better for me? The less ties I have, the easier all of this will be. Isn’t that right?”

Yes, Saeru agreed eventually, that’s right. He seemed to be indecisively wavering between satisfaction and suspicion.

“And now, of course, I’m supposed to want to go after Yato, right? Because of what he did, right? Well, but really it’s because he’s the greatest threat, isn’t he?” A-ya’s wry smile widened. “He’s the one that killed Sebastian, after all. Isn’t that right, Saeru?”

It’s true that he’s someone to be wary of. That ‘Shinki’ of his renders him able to dispose of us easily.

“And that’s why he’s the next target, right? Knowing Suzuya’s skill, Yato’s probably at least moderately injured now. With the evidence of his blood-soaked jersey, and knowing that Seidou had been tailing him for some time, he’s got injuries old and new to worry about. That being said, we’re supposed to attack him while he’s weak.”

That is exactly right, the serpent agreed, at last deciding to go with satisfaction. He really could collaborate with this kid on levels he didn’t know could occur.

“I wonder what he’s doing now,” A-ya smiled down at the city below. He liked the wall of windows. It was nice. “If he’s smart, we’ll be the number one on his list of worries. Seidou—he can take second place.” And he erupted in laughter. “I’m sure,” he said, “I’m sure that Yato’s hiding away just like we are now, you think?”

I’d infer so, answered the serpent, and A-ya imagined him waving his tail in interest. You sure are something, kid. I’ll give you that.

And it was around then that Yato slowed in his zig-zagging and came to a halt at Nora’s, “Right here is perfect,” ringing in his head. He had been tempted to watch the results of Izaya, but reminded himself that the point of it was that no one, not even himself, would care to watch him suffer. He would be satisfied knowing he’d left him as he did, and that should be enough. Maybe it would be a slow thing, like a withering flower in denial about its own fate of fading away. Maybe it would be quick, like smashing a vase on the pavement. Either way, Izaya Orihara would unravel and fall apart. And either way, he would do it alone.

Smiling, Yato acknowledged the beauty of being one of very few who knew this secret. Why, because Izaya let Yukine die? Probably something like that. It was more than that, of course. It was because Izaya didn’t care despite everything. It was because he didn’t know the worth of life.

Upon rematerializing in human form, Nora wiped at her mouth. Yato’s eyes flickered. “What’s wrong?” he asked her, and she smiled at him, her face silvery in the moonlight.

“I’m fine, Yato. It’s just that—that sword, is unpleasant,” she remarked, her eyes darkening in quiet discontent.

“That sword…,” he repeated, thinking of the crimson blade belonging to Yoh Takami which had since been used by Izaya. That’s right, it’s still… He began to recall the last time Yoh would ever use that blade, and shut down the image before it could get to the bad part. “Are you sure that you’re fine?”

“Of course,” she assured him. “More importantly, there is you… That white-haired one was strong, and he hurt you.”

He waved her off, unconcerned. “Mostly, he reopened the old wounds. I just need rest. I’m more worried about…”

“I don’t want to talk about him,” Nora said flatly.

Yato blinked, then allowed his gaze to avert itself from her. “I know, of course you’re bothered. I don’t want to think about Akise either.” He paused; the quiet was tense. He eyed a figure lying inanimate at the edge of the clearing. “So, why this clearing, Hiiro?”

She closed her eyes, folding her hands together and smiling pleasantly once again. “Because no one in this game really wants to approach the dead. They wish to leave them be. Therefore…” She gestured to the body resting nearby.

Yato didn’t want to think about the fact that the boy that lay there looked only fourteen or so. “I think that one is from the same realm as the serpent’s new vessel,” he commented distractedly.

“Exactly,” she answered warmly. “So that person will be less likely to come here.”

“He is the one I’ve been worried about for a while now,” Yato admitted. “Since he became possessed in that fight, I…” He paused. Yukiteru came to mind, and he felt vaguely disturbed.

“Mm? Is something wrong?”

“No, I was just wondering something as all.” He went over to a tree to sit among its roots. Nora followed, nestling herself beside him. Absently, he patted her head. “Yukiteru was walking that line, you know. I wonder where he’ll end up.”

“Whatever path he takes, I suppose you pushed him there, huh, Yato?” Her eyes were narrowed in jaded pleasure.

“I guess so.” His tone was as detached as his eyes.

She looked up into his profile, looking somewhere far away. Expression warming, she snuggled up closer to him, earning a glance. “I knew you would make the right choice,” she said softly. “And anyway, you did what you wanted to do to Izaya Orihara, right?”

“Mm,” he agreed.

“And you broke the general rule that you can only kill so many people at a time, huh?”

“I did.”

“And now, we can say that that half-ghoul shouldn’t be going after you anymore, at least for now.”

He closed his eyes. “That’s right,” he said. “So for now, it’s best to rest.”

“Yes,” she said. “That’s right.”


It was in a similar clearing that Seidou carried Shintaro to. All the while for the hikkiNEET the fear consumed him like black kerosene… or something. He couldn’t think of any good metaphors when he was this panicked. Holding his breath and trying not to scream were all he could do not to set himself on fire.

Funnily enough, he wasn’t all too worried about Seidou himself. Yeah, Seidou was real scary right now, but at least he kind of knew what to expect. That Harrowing Blade, though—if Shintaro got cut, what would happen? Would he want to kill himself, or something along those lines? He didn’t want to go back to such a place in his head. It was not a pleasant place. Even the thought brought him dread—and yet the more he thought about it, and thought, and thought, he gradually came to realize—that it didn’t matter at all. Did it?

And as Seidou sat Shintaro roughly on a low-seated stone, the NEET finally dropped the machine gun to the ground as if it were Seidou that had held onto that, too. Idly, Shintaro watched the vividness of the blueish moonlight fade into dull grey. Maybe silver, if you wanted to be creative. Eyes flat, he brought his hand to where the Harrowing Blade had been closest to, silent.

Seidou immediately drew into himself upon his landing and detachment from his ‘teammate.’ “Don’t expect—hospitality. I just wanted to make it outta there—you know, so that means… that the only reason you’re here is because you’re my hostage.”

Shintaro only stared at him silently, without expression. He was holding one of his hands up, his palm facing his dull face. Seemed like he was inspecting something.

Seidou’s eyes narrowed. “That—whole deal was for nothing,” he added. “A filthy traitor like me wouldn’t come back after all of that. Right? You know that, right?”

“I’m bleeding,” Shintaro said flatly. He didn’t lower his hand. He didn’t move other than for speech. He was made of stone.

Seidou straightened, lost. His brow furrowed deeply, his teeth bared. “So? Suck it up, shut-in.”

“…” Shintaro lowered his hand. He seemed to distantly consider something before sticking his hands in his pockets.

“What’s your problem?” Seidou scowled.

“I don’t have a problem,” he answered.

The half-ghoul cocked his head to the side, expression skeptical.

Shintaro shrugged. “I was just thinking, you know, about what it is I can glean from this situation. Tell me, Seidou. Are you going to kill me here? Seeing as I’m your hostage, and you keep insisting you’re the villain here… Will you kill me?”

Seidou was quiet, frozen in suspicion. “I won’t,” he said eventually.

“Then why don’t I make it easier for you?” Tilting his head to the side, Shintaro lifted the red-handled scissors from his pocket.

“What are you going to do with those?” Seidou scoffed. “Kill yourself?”

“Would you care if I did?”

“Of course not.”

“Then sure.” He pointed them towards his own neck, eyeing Seidou meaningfully. Seidou’s mouth twitched. “Look at me. There really is no point to my being here, is there? You’ve made it out of the dangerous situation you were in. Akira and Roppi are dead…” – Seidou’s eyes flickered in discontent – “…and if you don’t care about them, either, there’s no reason for you to keep me around anymore.”

“You could still—come in handy.”

“Hah?” Shintaro at last gave expression to that dead-eyed face, but it was one of cruel humor. “Like how? I suppose you could use me as bait to kill off the rest of that group, right?” He was carelessly handling the scissors, waving them around as he spread his arms. “Kaneki and Konoha and Shirou and the rest? Shinichi, Tohsaka—I mean, you do know Hide, don’t you? You could also use me as a reason to get them to do something, but what? What do you want them to do? Spare you? Well, I think that you can handle yourself just fine.”

Seidou glowered at him wordlessly.

“What? Not your idea? Will you use me as a peace offering? ‘I spared Shintaro, so now we can be allies again’?”

“No way!” Seidou snapped. “There’s no way I’m going back with them—I’m a filthy traitor, so why would I do that?

Shintaro shrugged again. “Then why does it matter if I die?” He gestured with the scissors again, shining in the light of the moon. “If you don’t care either way, then it’s up to me, right? And maybe something like the title ‘hero’ was something that was very important to me.” He stared with empty pools of pale grey into Seidou’s face, gripping tighter on the handle to his blade.

“A ‘hero of justice’ doesn’t exist,” there was certain subdued tone to Seidou’s words. “That ideal—is bullshit.”

Shintaro’s eyes were unyielding. “In my meager eighteen years of living, I’ve had three heroes. If someone sees somebody else as a hero, that’s all it takes, isn’t it? To be one, that is.” The half-ghoul opened his mouth to speak, but the NEET continued in firm, if dead, tone, “The first died when I was seven years old. Nobody will ever know how I felt at that time but me. I’ll never tell. The second and the third, well—I guess each one of them replaces the one before them. After my dad died, Ayano was my hero. Then it was a leader named Seidou Takizawa.”

Seidou drew back, baring his teeth at the statement.

Shintaro gave that twisted, acidic smile again at the response. “Alright. So one tried to tell me that there was beauty in this monochrome world, tried to tell me there was ‘happiness.’ Well, you know what?”

Seidou glared through the dark without answer.

“She killed herself. She committed suicide – what am I supposed to do? What does that say? She, who told me that living was worth it—she took her own life! She, who taught me what ‘happiness’ was, could not fly like the paper cranes she folded with care.” Those grey eyes were of ice. “And Seidou Takizawa; that guy told me that maybe I was worth it, right? Are you catching onto this sardonic comedy here?”

Seidou could only frown, his shoulders bunching up around his neck.

“Seidou taught me about ‘justice’ and ‘effort.’ About trying your best even when fear takes you by the throat. About finding your beliefs and fighting for them with all that you’ve got. And of course, you see where Seidou ended up, hah?” The smile faded just slightly into something both broken and content. “So, really, this is what all of you would want, isn’t it?” He flipped the blade in his hand back towards his throat. “Surely, then, this is happiness.

“Wh…what the hell are you talking about?” Seidou demanded, and Shintaro looked at him dully. “Y…you… That doesn’t make any goddamn SENSE!” Seidou ran his hands through his pale locks. “Are you shitting me?”

“Quite the contrary.”

“You can’t just do that!”

“Why not?”

Seidou gestured wildly at the scissors. “You can’t—WHAT EVEN JUST HAPPENED?” He began stepping forward, completely flummoxed frustration. “You were JUST TELLING ME like, fifteen minutes ago how STUPID I was being and now you want to KILL YOURSELF? WHAT THE FUCK?

“I just came to a conclusion, as all,” he said. “I mean,” – he flashed a smile – “…you helped.”

Seidou stared, unable to comprehend the turnaround that had just occurred. “WHAT?

“After all, I thought maybe I could get through to you—at least, I think that was what was going through my head. But now that even that notion is gone and it’s obvious that I’ve lost you, why even try? The truth has been right in front of me all along. Ayano showed me ‘happiness.’ And you, I know now that efforts all lead up to nothing. Something like ‘justice’ doesn’t exist. This world is wrong. Right?” That smile again. “Yes, both of you saved me. You saved me from my own hopes and dreams. You saved me from the illusion of perfection. And that’s why I should just slit my throat and end it here, right?”

“YOU CAN’T DO THAT!” he bellowed, and as he went to grab the scissors from Shintaro’s pale hand, the hikkiNEET turned on him and plunged the blade into the mucous membrane of Seidou’s left eyeball. “Gh—aa—” Seidou staggered backwards and hissed in pain as he brought one hand to his eye and the other to the handle of the scissors. “Aa…ggh… god—fucking…!”

“Those things don’t work on any other part of your body but the mucous membrane of the eye,” Shintaro stated, watching emotionlessly as Seidou dropped to one knee and tugged at the thing sticking from his eye socket, making choked utterances of bitter pain. “You’re not the only one who suffers, idiot.” He drew up one of his knees to his chest, seeming rather bored while he looked down on this supposed hero of his, who was now pulling the scissors slowly from his eye, gasping and pressing his palm to the injured socket. “I get it now.” He was musing in distant thoughtfulness, a dull reflection. “For me, it’s nothing at all. The worst part of me; it’s not feeling a thing. It’s, static.” He looked idly at his own hands. “I’m unplugged, like some kind of machine—it’s no wonder our blood tastes of iron. We are all machines, aren’t we?” He looked with a mirthless smile back to the starless sky. “And if the worst of me is an icy disconnection, how can you right that with a cure I can’t feel? Jeez, how cruel.”

Asshole,” Seidou growled, holding tightly to the scissors. The blood ran from his closed eye like crimson tears.

“Will you kill me now?”

The scissors were swiftly jabbed into Shintaro’s shoulder, and the bitter NEET was slammed into the ground, back first. Seidou, atop him, growled in distaste. “Stop talking, will you?”

Shintaro didn’t answer. He merely looked up at Seidou, devoid of expression besides a flicker of pain hiding behind those impassive eyes.

“You’re not supposed to not respond, either—” he hissed, stabbing him again. The darkness began building in those grey eyes, and Seidou found satisfaction in this subtle answer. “Is it better if it’s with your own weapon? Hah?” He just kept gouging at him. “Do you love this? Or hate it? Would you like it in YOUR eye, you little SHIT?”

Seidou didn’t stop until Shintaro began to smile… at which the half-ghoul paused with the scissors and raised what would have been an eyebrow, sneering. “What’s that look? What’s that?”

“Do you think I care? Do you really, really think I care?”

Seidou glowered at him, bordering on appall. This was the same hikkiNEET from before, right? “What the fuck’s WRONG with you?” he cried in exasperation, angrily throwing the scissors to the side and getting back to his feet. “What the fuck even—shit…”

“Hm?” He eyed the half-ghoul from his place on the ground. “Try that blade you cut me with. It was Roppi’s, right? It’s called the Harrowing Blade, and if you draw someone’s blood, it draws out the worst of that person.”

“…And…”

“And you cut me with it, dumbass.”

Seidou blinked with his one good eye. “Then why the FUCK did he cut ME with it?!”

“It was supposed to sever your strings as a puppet. After we purged the effects of it, you wouldn’t be under the influence of the game masters anymore.”

“Under the—what?”

“Well, anyway…” – he slowly sat up as he spoke, now – “…guess I’m stuck like this now.”

“Like what? A suicidal piece of shit? That STABS PEOPLE’S EYES?”

“Something like that.”

Seidou sighed heavily. “Well, at this point,” he uttered, “maybe it would be better to kill you after all.”

“It wouldn’t matter anyway. I’d come back. Just like Roppi will come back, and Akira will come back, and so will everyone else…” Tilting his head, Seidou peered down into orbs now glowing red. “It’s all pointless. Maybe the only answer for the ending of this stupid story is one without me in it.”

“Your eyes are glowing red,” Seidou pointed out.

“No shit, Sherlock. I see you’ve gotten no more observant since your time-skip.”

Seidou looked offended. “Fuck you. What’s that about, then?”

“I’m dead,” he said, and Seidou just looked at him. Just—looked at him. Skepticism was written on his features in stone.

“You’re what?”

“I died, just like Konoha died and Ayano died. Apparently I’ve died more times than I can count—well, that’s a lie, but I don’t feel like counting.”

“So you’re dead—literally.”

“Yep. Pretty fucking fantastic. Not even just this game, but back home. You are too.” The smile returned to his face, and Seidou scowled. “Yeah, that’s right, this game has happened more than once. I would never have told anyone of the routes where I’d gone rotten. How about the ones where I had the Harrowing Blade? What about the ones where I became a killer? Heh… No matter how kind I am one time or another, I can’t erase from this god-forsaken memory the fact that I’m a murderer too. Hah, you’ve killed Roppi—oh, how terrible. So have I.”

Seidou was doing a lot of wordless staring in this conversation. And now he had only one eye to stare with. How unfortunate.

“Let’s see, when was it that time? Soon after the fight where Tsuki and Shizuo and Yukine had died, when he had snapped at me. I killed him the next morning, then killed myself. How’s that for an ending? Let’s see—I’ve smothered Touka in her sleep once, waited until she suffocated and then laughed when Kaneki killed Light Yagami, who he thought did the job. It was okay, though, because he killed me next…”

“So you’re telling me that we’ve played this game however many times, and sometimes you’re an asshole. What’s your point?” Looking into those luminescent eyes, he became distinctly aware of his inhuman eye that now bled down to his chin. He thinned his blackened lips, feeling a dim discomfort.

Shintaro shrugged carelessly. “There is no point. That’s just it. I mean, you’ve had your good routes and bad routes too.”

“Tch… Those don’t matter at all—they’re over, aren’t they? And it’s not like I can remember them; they might as well not even exist. For us—I mean.” He scratched at his head. “It’s one thing to be stuck in the past, but that’s just… This game is this game, and so, eh, we should stick to this one.”

“Alright then, what’s the next step now, Owl?”

His lip curled. “Okay,” he muttered, “you really need to—not be like this.”

“Yeah?” His eyebrows were raised.

“You’re really pissing me off,” Seidou informed him, and Shintaro blinked slowly, unfazed.

“Why, because the worst part of me is the part that you hated most in the first place? I mean, no kidding. After all, you’ve hated me this whole time anyway, haven’t you?”

“How do I reverse this stupid thing?” he growled, taking the Harrowing Blade back out of his pocket and squinting at it. He flicked it open and grabbed on both ends, about to snap it in half.

“That’s a good thought,” Shintaro sighed, “but the answer is in connections and bonds and whatever.” He waved his hand nonchalantly to nothing in particular. “And seeing as the worst part of me is someone that epitomizes disconnection, I’d say we’re screwed.”

“Wait—then how the fuck did you expect to purge me? Or—whatever?”

“That was Akira. Even if you won’t admit it, she was the most important person to you, or at least one of them.”

“Why you—” He jumped at him suddenly, and then Shintaro was being held in the air by his neck.

The boy only gazed down at him impassively, not even making a move to loosen the grip with his weak hands. “Well—you don’t seem… to be harrowed anymore, so—it worked, didn’t it?”

Seidou dropped him, turning away and pacing around the premises.

“Not that it really matters anyway,” Shintaro added, rubbing absently at his now-bruised neck. “Since, you know, you’re still a ‘filthy traitor’ and all.”

“Shut up, will you?” he snipped.

“I’m only being exactly what I really am – an arrogant and callous bastard.” A cruel smirk. “Exactly what you hate most, right, Seidou?”

“Oh my god…” He uttered, bringing his hands to his face and dragging them down slowly. “Ugh… You’re right—you’re right, I hate you, completely and utterly.”

“Like you hate Roppi?” He actually chuckled. “Like you hate Akira?”

He whipped his head to look at him, but Shintaro didn’t so much as flinch. Clicking his tongue, Seidou closed his one other eye. “I’m going to keep you with me for now… For—my own purposes. I’m going to use you to save my own skin, that’s all.”

“And that makes sense how?”

“How does it make sense that you’ve made it this far at all, shut-in?”

He shrugged. “I guess that’s a good point.”

“Exactly.” And, grabbing the other by the collar of his red jersey, Seidou hoisted Shintaro over his shoulder, grabbed the machine gun from the ground, ignored the harrowed one’s dull protests, and began to move again.

 

Chapter 83: Secret

Chapter Text

 

“Come morning, what should we do? Rika…” Hanyuu wrung her wrists, her eyes wide and worried. Her eyes flickered to the immobile Yukiteru, now only a dark shape on the ground as he rested. Around them were an assortment of rusty rakes and shovels and the like, and only the dim sliver of moonlight from beneath the shed door served to illuminate them now. Rika didn’t dare move for fear of making the old floor creak. At this point, Yukki was probably easy to awaken.

“We remain with Yukiteru,” she answered under her breath. “I shall not leave him as he is. We’ll keep him from doing anything too terribly rash, right? We do not want him following the same path as Rena… Keiichi… or for that matter, A-ya.”

“Then what do you want us to do?” Hanyuu fretted. “We can’t just continue following him aimlessly. You know he wants to find A-ya, but then what? Then what? It doesn’t sound like a good ending, no, not at all…”

“Maybe not.” Rika stared up into the ceiling, which looked like a black chasm in the lighting they were provided. “From here, we need to find the group of the boy named Shintaro. You said they were about to embark on something risky… so perhaps you should see the results of that event. Even if Shintaro were to have perished, there is still Kaneki, of whom you’ve told me is on a good path this time.”

“Th…that’s true…”

“If you can assess that group and let me know where they are taking shelter now, then we will try to lead Yukiteru in that direction. At the very least, it will provide a support system for him… and I find that to be very important at this time.”

Hanyuu nodded. Rika could see her easily, illuminated solely by her holy radiance. She was unlike regular light in that it did not touch upon any of the solid objects around them. “You’re right, of course… It’s just—is it really fine to leave here?”

“I’d be fine, but you can wait until tomorrow if you want. If you were to keep an eye out for any dangers while we sleep, it would assure me of our safety. Wake me if anything goes wrong, and then I will wake Yukiteru in turn.”

“I can do that,” she said with a moderate amount of relief. “It would make me feel better, too…”

“I almost wonder if—hm…”

“Wh…what’s that, Rika?”

“I’m considering telling Yukiteru about you. Do you think it would help, or hurt? I can’t say I know the answer myself.”

“I—I mean, I-I don’t know either, so…” She twiddled her fingers as Rika sighed lightly.

“That’s fine. I suppose I wouldn’t reveal you without your consent anyway.”

“O-of course. Thank you.”

“No, that’s nothing at all.” She paused, contemplating. “You can scout out that other group tomorrow. For now, I should also sleep. I shouldn’t be too much of a hypocrite here.”

“Er, yes…”

“Goodnight, Hanyuu.”

“Gh—goodnight.”

Yukiteru, at their side, stared emptily into the black, facing away from them. ‘Hanyuu’? I wonder if she knows I can hear her talking to herself. He closed his eyes. I’d suppose not.


Nora listened to the steady breathing of her master. She was smiling to herself, as he had drifted at last into slumber. She shifted to look up into his face, at rest despite the crease between his eyebrows, suggesting a disturbance. Brushing the hair from his face with care, she savored this moment of closeness before slipping from his side and getting to her feet again. Nora would need to get moving quickly – time was of the essence. It wouldn’t be night forever, and she knew quite well that Yato wouldn’t be asleep for long.

She took a moment to sense their surroundings, only to find the silence and the trees. If she was quick about this, she could leave him be without worrying for his safety. With all that Yato had done, it was virtually impossible in-game to wipe him out in his sleep – the game masters wouldn’t allow it. And on that token, if he were to wake up in time to fight, he’d surely do just fine, being the God of Calamity that he was. If this went as planned, she wouldn’t take long anyway.

Glancing once to the face of C-ta – Yato had closed the lids of his glassy, dead eyes – that doll’s smile touched her lips again. All because those two have perished, I can keep Yato again, she mused, and looked to her master with that jaded warmth. I hope to return to you, she thought, and disappeared.

The sound of a water droplet falling blissfully into a pond met the ears of the dark-clad demon, checking over his job of splinting his broken wrist. When the jaded spirit appeared before him, he immediately got to his feet, scarlet eyes flashing.

“I don’t mean to surprise you,” Nora smiled, spreading her arms with her palms open to him. “I want to talk. That is… with both of you.”

A-ya’s eyes narrowed, already in the fighting stance. The human was already asleep, so the serpent was even more irked by such an encounter. He quirked an eyebrow, bringing his injured hand to the crook of his opposite arm and raising his good hand to his face, smiling. “Ah? Do you really think a proposal is such a good idea, showing up like this? Fool. I could kill you here, and your foolish master would be caught without a weapon.

“I came of my own accord,” she explained sweetly, eyes narrowing in that pleasurable way.

The possessed one frowned, suspicion pooling in his eyes. “Why should I believe you, Stray? Give me a reason not to kill you—I have nothing stopping me, you see. Loner is currently asleep, meaning I have full control of this body.

“I would prefer to speak with both you and that boy A-ya,” she admitted, “though on the premise of believing me, well, Yato wouldn’t send me here on my own, for one thing. He would worry for my safety, of course he would.” Her smile spread, if slightly. “Also, Yato hates you invariably. Not only are you a demon, Serpent, but you are also the one who gave the order to eliminate that new Shinki he cared for so much.”

Loner, you may want to be awake for this exchange, thought the serpent, and A-ya began to stir somewhere deep in their consciousness. “Alright, so you came here of your own accord. But do you really think that this changes the fact that you are my enemy?

“It doesn’t get me a free pass, I know that…” Childishly, the spirit crouched there on the ground, cradling her chin with her red-marked hands. She looked up at the possessed one with a warm look that said she was not fearful. Obviously she did not expect to fight. “But I think we can strike a deal, if you take the time to listen to my proposal.”

What could we get out of this?” he snarled, and she merely kept smiling with those narrowed, jaded eyes.

“If you agree to what I ask of you, then I will make sure that Yato will not exterminate you – that is, as his holy weapon, I won’t let him end you like he ended the other demon in-game. I heard about that, somewhere along the line. Isn’t that what you’re most afraid of?”

By now, A-ya was awake and alert, his senses mingling with those of the demon possessing him. “What sort of thing are you proposing?” they asked, and she blinked.

“Ah, A-ya is awake now, is he? I’m glad.” She stood and advanced a few paces before the dark-clad one began charging up with red electricity.

I’d suggest you don’t come closer,” said the demon, and she tilted her head.

“Ah, I just find his eyes so pretty; that’s all. I’d like to get a better look.”

“I’d rather stick to business,” A-ya said flatly. “You should know how much danger you’re in right now. After all…” They smiled. “Even if your offer is legitimate,” they said, “then it wouldn’t mean anything if Yato doesn’t have a holy weapon to purge us with. Right?

She brought one of her hands to her mouth, the sleeve of her kimono covering all but her fingers. Her eyes glittered, perhaps with amusement. “That’s true,” she agreed. “If you were to eliminate me, Yato would not have a weapon any longer. But if you were to kill me, he’d have even more reason to kill you… And as a God of Calamity, Yato is still a very strong opponent, even without a Shinki. Looking at you… your condition has worsened, too, has it not?”

They frowned, and that was enough answer for her.

“I thought as much. So then, that proposal of mine… All I ask is that you do not target Yato. If ever you are near when he is in danger, as well… I would like for you to aid him. Even if it’s from afar – there’s no need for you to put yourselves in danger in the process of protecting him. After all, you are enemies.”

A-ya’s eyes narrowed.

“In return, we won’t target you, either.”

If you’re doing this on your own, how can we expect the god to adhere to these conditions?” the demon hissed.

“Because I’m his weapon,” she smiled sweetly. “And he trusts me. So if I decide not to do something, he will follow my lead, just as I will always follow him.”

“The fact that you’re coming to us with this proposal at all means that Yato is in a bad state himself,” said A-ya. “Doesn’t this attempt at an underground alliance imply desperation?”

“I wouldn’t go so far as to say ‘desperation’… In fact, I’d have to say that we’re in the same boat as you. At this point, both groups of ours are going to be the primary targets of every other group. Wouldn’t you say? And knowing that both of our groups are technically only one entity fighting for themselves, it’s certainly a dangerous route for either of us. That being said, it would be foolish for either of us to go after each other… because we, as ‘antagonists,’ will end up destroying ourselves. That’s pretty accurate, don’t you think?”

There was silence for some time. “…You’re not incorrect,” the demon eventually admitted.

“Of course not.” She closed her eyes, folding her fingers together in front of her. “It is rather nostalgic, talking with you like this. That is—not you, Serpent, you must forgive me. A-ya…”

“What do you mean?” He was still as monotone as ever.

“For me, after all… Mm, sneaking off like this and speaking alone – call it a conspiracy, if you wish… I once made a similar alliance with a girl around your age. Yes, that was in these very games – the parallel one, of course.”

A-ya’s eyes flickered with something that could have been muted curiosity.

Nora looked with her own jaded eyes into his. “Her name was B-ko.”

“You worked with B-ko?” A-ya asked her immediately, distaste writhing in him originating in the serpent.

“Was she a friend of yours?”

“I…” A-ya hesitated, then bowed his head. “No—or, maybe something like that… I don’t I think I could call her anything like a ‘friend.’ I—don’t know the meaning of that word.” He did not think of time spent after school with her, C-ta, and D-ne. He did not think of knowing C-ta as long as he could remember. And he most certainly did not think about the sensation of holding Yukiteru’s hand beneath the stars.

“Mm, I see.” She closed her eyes again. “She seemed to take kindly to you, at least. There was someone in particular that she wished to return to, and when I spoke with her, I do believe that yours was the name she uttered.”

A-ya looked at her without expression, only a slight stirring of something sorrowful in his eyes. “Why bring this up? She’s gone now anyway, and isn’t of consequence.

“Maybe so, but you and I seem to have something in common, after all.”

Hah? What’s that?

“Being nameless… or one with many names, it’s all the same, isn’t it, Serpent?” She smiled that sweet smile again. “But more importantly,” she said warmly, “both of us are the reason that Yato is back to the way he used to be.”

Oh?

“You, who are the source of Yukine’s death… And I, who led B-ko by the hand and, together with her, killed Hiyori Iki.”

They gazed into her as she revealed her secret. Joyous, she brought her thin fingers gently to her mouth. “It was her that made him soft. So now that both of them are dead and gone, the Yato I remember is truly back.” Such jaded exultation. “I couldn’t be happier.”

Returning to the situation at hand, she smiled again at the possessed one before her. “So? What will the decision be?”


Izaya Orihara’s eyes flickered beneath closed lids. He came to gradually, returning into consciousness and realizing one thing at a time. He felt he was on his back. Then he felt the pain begin to register again, trickling into his awareness unpleasantly. When he opened his eyes, he saw the first rays of dawn spilling onto the ground just out of his reach, pouring from the open front door. His gaze shifted to Celty, lying just nearby. He noted her stillness, and the way he was lying in a shallow pool of her smoky shadows.

“…You…,” he croaked, then rolled over onto his side to cough, an involuntary motion that sent pain vibrating through the core of his body. After he was done, he uttered, “You shouldn’t even be dead.” He recalled the knowledge that she was a being without a heartbeat. Where was it that she had been stabbed but in that very heart, so purposelessly? How could she have died in such a way? The thought of Shinra – the one who loved Celty, and the one who could arguably be considered as the closest thing Izaya had to a friend – finding out about this incident struck the information broker, and he rolled onto his back again, grimacing. “Jeez…” He brought his dark-sleeved arm to his eyes, jaw clenched. “What a pain…”

Is it my fault? Does that matter? He raised his hands above him, looking at them in the morning light to see them shaky and stained with red. Closing his eyes in distaste, he pressed his palms to the floor and pushed himself slowly, painfully into a sitting position. His breathing already mildly labored, he looked around him to take in what there was to gather. He found his pocketknife cast to the side, and picked it up in slow-motion. The Prophet was still in its stupid plastic sheath. “Miraculously,” he smirked without mirth, “I’m still alive. Call it a twist of fate, but I…” With effort, Izaya got to his feet, pausing a moment to find his balance. “I’m not gone quite yet…”

He limped towards the back door, using the wall as support once he was close enough. He did not notice the smear of red he left with his fingers. He began to assemble what pieces he could find of himself, trying to put into words exactly how he felt. He was raw in a way, and he likened this sensation to naked vulnerability. He tried to put back together the shell he lived in, tried to put some kind of mask back on, but somehow it felt like it no longer fit. Perhaps they had been damaged beyond repair. Would he need to makeshift a new skin?

“It sounds so vexatious,” he sighed as he reached the back door and leaned there on the doorframe for some time. He was swathed, suddenly, in something more than Celty’s shadows. “It’s too quiet,” he said, his hoarse voice barely a whisper.

The atmosphere began to lighten as the sun rose higher. Izaya watched the tops of the trees glitter and glow like fool’s gold. “Yes,” he seemed to agree with no one in particular, “I fear isolation, after all, yet I’m discomfited by the thought of someone seeing me this way. Really, the truth is that I’m never not being watched.” Smiling without feeling, he shut his eyes. “Knowing that this is entertainment for the masters of the game, I’d imagine there’s some way to watch all of us at all times. Isn’t that right, whoever you are?” He paused, as though to let them answer. “I know what it is you want me to do next. Why? Well, if I were you, I’d want this player Izaya Orihara to do that, too. How hilarious would that be? How tantalizingly easy – a sardonic twist for sure. I’d be so ecstatic I’d want to vomit—how can you contain yourselves, I wonder?” He laughed a foreign laugh.

Detached, he looked to the gradient of blue called sky. “I’d rather not feel a thing,” he said gravely, wrapping one of his arms over the injury in his gut. “I’m not sure when, but I think I’ve finally gotten sick of playing games… Maybe it’s just no fun when all my favorite pieces on the board keep disappearing.” With a light sigh, he returned his gaze to the land before him. In the morning light, he could see the bloody imprint on the lawn, the grass bowing in respect to someone once fallen. “Mm?” Something nearby this splotch caught his eye – a dark blue rectangle amongst the green of the grass.

He approached it slowly but surely, leaning down with his arm practically plastered over his stomach as he reached with his other hand for what he found was a notebook. “Ah… surely it couldn’t be Akise-kun’s?” He wanted to feel more curious than he did, but right now everything seemed unappealing and dull. He opened it anyway, of course, flipping through the pages to see copies of Izaya’s own information sheets scribbled inside. Without expression or verbal response, Izaya removed his other arm from his abdomen and reached in his pocket to pull out the info sheets, old and new, to compare. He blinked at the blood-soaked pages from his pocket before tossing them carelessly to the side. He had them mostly memorized anyway.

With that, he continued leafing carefully through the pages of this new source – it had not only the original records of the start of the game, but also the records of all of the females, and of course the updated information regarding newer people such as Twelve or Suzuya. Amongst these tiny letterings, there were even smaller notes besides, like footnotes reminding the owner of the journal of the specifics: A-ya is possessed by the one once called Kuroha, and Groups 1 and 2 have had the longest-standing alliance… things like that.

The journal went on to record the species and weapon of every player. Izaya thought to be impressed, cocking his head as he continued skimming. Looked like from here it got to even touchier subjects – theories about truths and lies and the like. You know, how the game was fake, or whether it was fake; what the real goals of the game were, and what the game masters did or didn’t want. There was a section on the game masters and their relations to the players – possible contacts made with known players, any abilities they may have jurisdiction over… Izaya got to the page titled ‘The Unspoken Rule’ before he clapped the thing shut and pocketed it.

“Strange that Akise-kun would leave this behind,” he remarked. He decided he would look at it again when he knew he could pay more mind to what he was reading. He assured himself that in time he would be ready to play again, but for now… for now it was beyond his interest. He did know, however, that he couldn’t stay put, so Izaya set out that morning on autopilot. His plan for now was of simple essentials – he needed to wash himself off. He needed to clean and tend to his wounds. And through all this, he needed to remember not to think too terribly much about the situation he might be in. He needed rationality back. He needed himself back. He needed ‘Izaya Orihara’ back.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, there,” he said almost mockingly to himself as he started out. “One step at a time.”


“I think it’s about time we take full action,” said the half-ghoul Kaneki in all firmness. He, Konoha, and Shirou had returned to the others safely the night before, and had spent the night resting in that same house, taking turns on one-man night shifts. Kaneki had, with new resolve, decided to get everyone up and moving early in the morning to set a plan in stone. “We need motive and purpose from here on,” he continued. “We cannot remain on defense for too much longer.”

“Ah, it’s about time,” Rin uttered, earning a frown from Shirou.

Kaneki didn’t remark upon it. “I think from here on we need to take a more active role here in these games – otherwise, we’ll find ourselves picked off one by one, as we have been for however long. The group we have here now is perfect for hunting practices. We couldn’t ask for anything more, could we?” Smiling gently, he touched his chin. “In order not to lose what we have now, we need to take out the ones we know threaten our safety. I think that can be agreed upon, yes?”

“The antagonists do need—to go,” Shirou said grudgingly.

“That snake, for example,” Konoha said quietly.

“We should probably keep in mind,” said Shinichi with closed eyes, “that the serpent you speak of is possessing a new vessel who may not be at fault.”

“Regardless of that fact,” Kaneki said Shinichi, “we have no means of exorcising that boy. It may be in his and our best interests to kill him, if it comes down to that.”

“Does that mean we’re going after that one?” asked Hide, still smiling lopsidedly despite the worried furrow between his brows and the way he rubbed at his arm. “Sounds like quite the project, Kaneki.”

Kaneki cast a softened gaze over Hide, that smile still touching his pale lips. “Actually… on the contrary, I’d prefer not to approach him immediately.”

“We’re going after Shintaro, right?” asked Shirou.

“Shintaro is in trouble,” Konoha said softly. “He…”

“No.” Kaneki’s eyes were closed – eyelids were great barriers against telling others your feelings, after all. “We’re not going after them.”

“What? It’s not a rescue mission?” Shinichi asked, his usual detached expression breaking into vague surprise.

Shirou was more visibly shocked. “We’re not going after Shintaro? Why not? He could still be alive, couldn’t he? We’ve gotta go find him while we can!”

“We…?” Konoha just looked slightly more confused than usual.

“Please hear me out,” Kaneki said calmly. “If we go after Seidou and Shintaro now, it will only result in the same outcome as every time before. That is not an offensive mission so much as it is a rescue mission. There are still two power players we have to worry about besides Seidou himself – and keep in mind, we still don’t know what he intends to do with Shintaro. It’s true that Roppi died by his hand, but from my perspective, Seidou was not precisely attuned to his own actions at the time. I don’t see him killing Shintaro by any means… At present, it’s a hypothetical that we can’t afford to ponder too much. Were we to go after them now, the other power players would use it as another opportunity to take one of us out while we were busy.”

“That does seem to be a recurring trope,” Shinichi admitted, mildly lost.

“So we target the power players,” Rin nodded. “I think that’s the best option too, but in that case, why not go after the possessed kid? He interfered with our most recent plot, didn’t he? He’s caused us the most trouble, at least from what I know.”

“He is the one that ambushed us in the city, too,” Shirou frowned, rubbing uncomfortably at the side of his neck.

“Ah, Rin-chan,” Hide smiled weakly, “is that a quest of logic or revenge?”

“Both,” she sniffed, crossing her legs. “The revenge half is obvious, but if this guy’s the most immediate threat, then we should take care of him as soon as possible. Ideally, we kill him, but even if we just injure him, that would be enough to let him know that we’re going to fight back if he tries to mess with us anymore. If this guy has brought the most problems, it should consequently be our first priority to solve that as soon as possible. Isn’t that right?”

“I think so,” said Shirou, “but then…”

“Well, I mean, think about it,” said Hide with a shrug. “Right now – think about Takizawa-san! We may not know where he’s at or what he’s doing or what he’s planning to do… but here’s this: Mado-san was the one that we thought could snap him out of it, right? And this kid A-ya, he’s the one that killed Mado-san… Look, I know that Takizawa’s a little bit irrational right now, but if I were him, I’d wanna go after this A-ya guy. And if we go after A-ya, and Takizawa is also going after A-ya… I wouldn’t know what to expect from him if he confronted us again. Whatever the case, I don’t expect it to be pleasant. I think Kaneki’s point… is something along those lines, yeah?” He swiveled his gaze back to his childhood friend, who looked rather grateful to Hide’s commentary.

“Yes, that is exactly my thoughts.” The half-ghoul bowed his head. “In which case… I propose that we go after Yato. It was inopportune circumstances when I last saw him, but he seems to still be in a bad state. He has attacked our group as a whole once, killing Saiko. Knowing that he is a god of sorts, that makes him a strong opponent. Since then, I faced him once when I was harrowed – it seems that Seidou had tailed him for some time and has dealt his own damage on him. Although Yato once held an alliance with us, he has betrayed that whole-heartedly. It is true that he forewarned me of Kuroha’s return, but on that token, he killed one of us in that same battle. Perhaps such a passage of information was his way of apologizing for his change of character, but that only retains the argument that he is no longer a friend, but a foe.

“We can no longer take into consideration the possibility of saving any one of the power players remaining, because if our past attempts have taught us anything, it’s that such efforts yield only negative results. We must fight them with the intent to kill, or we will continue to die and the game itself will never end. Therefore, today’s mission is one to exterminate the god Yato.”

“Alright!” Hide chirped heartily, and Kaneki’s brow furrowed just slightly as he was given the grim reminder that there wasn’t anywhere really ‘safe’ that his friend could be kept.

“What’s the plan?” asked Shinichi, head tilted.

Everyone was looking to Kaneki in rapt attention. “Of course, I want to hear everyone else’s input, as well… But this is what I have in mind.”


Yato woke up to Nora crouched in front of him, her doll’s smile on her features. “Good morning, Yato,” she greeted sweetly.

“You left sometime last night…” He ran a hand through his dark purple hair; he had a headache. “What were you up to?”

“Oh, nothing important,” she assured him. “I was patrolling the area – I thought I sensed Seidou Takizawa nearby, and wanted to make sure he wasn’t headed this way. He wasn’t.”

“Right,” he grunted as he got to his feet.

“How are your wounds, Yato?”

“They’re fine. I’m fine.” He looked off somewhere through the trees that wasn’t towards the fallen C-ta. “I just need to lay low for a while. Everyone’s going to be out to get us, but the best thing’s to hide. My greatest concern is Kuroha’s new vessel…” He paused. “That, and Yukki. I’m sure he isn’t pleased with me.”

“Then we should get moving, huh?” She took him by the hand, and he looked at their contact without much response.

“Yeah. Here’s a bad place to be – we’re right in the middle of everyone, I think. We either wait or try to maneuver outta here.” He rubbed the back of his head with his free hand. “This situation isn’t an easy deal. If we do wait, they’ll either make an opening sometime, or they’ll close in on us.”

“Seidou Takizawa is moving away from us with one other,” Nora offered. “We could bide our time until there is a clear path in that direction.”

“Mm…” He nodded. “We just can’t wait too long, or we’re screwed.”

There was another pause, but yet again Nora only smiled at him.

“You have no idea what fear feels like, do you?” he sighed.

“I’m sure that everything will turn out fine,” she said, embracing him gently. “When it’s you and I, I know we can manage just fine.”

He blinked down at her, then looked off to nowhere again, putting his hand on her head. “Yeah.”


“It’s morning.”

Shintaro, slung over Seidou’s shoulder still, sighed. “I know,” he said. “The sun’s right in my face.”

Seidou’s lip curled. “I thought you were sleeping. You’re quiet enough.”

“I have nothing to say. It’s not like you’ll put me down if I ask. I see no reason to complain or anything, and if I said everything that was on mind, I’d probably drive you mad. Well—more mad,” he corrected himself. He maintained a sincere monotone throughout his explanation. “And if you want the truth, I don’t want you shrieking at me anymore. It’s harsh on the ears.”

Seidou stiffened. “Go back to being quiet,” he grumbled.

“Sure.”

Seidou sighed harshly. “I’ll drop you.” He was jumping from rooftop to rooftop, now. Shintaro looked down to the streets below. It wouldn’t exactly be a short drop.

“Okay,” answered the NEET, dull but agreeable.

“I can’t even threaten you…”

“Then stop trying. You’d think you’d learn by now that trying gets no one anywhere, does it?”

Seidou stopped with his travelling, halting abruptly at the edge of a three-story building’s roof. “Trying… gets no one anywhere, huh?

“Pretty much. Look where it got you.”

“I hate you.”

“Okay.”

Seidou clicked his tongue in irritation. “This was inevitable, regardless. Better like this.”

“Whatever you say.” Shintaro closed his eyes, unbothered. He did release a grunt of surprise at the jerking sensation that followed – he almost thought that Seidou had dropped him off the roof after all.

But no, the half-ghoul had only jumped down into the street below, looking around as if searching for something. The mild surprise faded back into static numbness. He stared without expression into the cracks lining the asphalt beneath Seidou’s feet. He thought that perhaps he recognized this street. A spatter of red there – It’s paint. He blinked slowly at the darker smear nearby. That was blood. This must have been the area where he and Roppi had faced Izaya’s group – how long ago was that, now?

Four days, huh. It was still rather impressive – they’d been here nine days total, now. So much had happened, hadn’t it? He supposed that was all about perspective.

Shintaro emerged from his flat musings when Seidou went through the doors of one of the buildings and dropped the red-jerseyed one at last. Even though he was dropped to his feet, the suddenness of it made Shintaro’s head spin – it was uncomfortable having your blood collect in your head for so long. At the consequent head rush, he fell to a sitting position. When the stars left his eyes, the machine gun was at Shintaro’s side and Seidou was gone.

Shintaro narrowed grey eyes. Did Seidou just leave him there? Wow.

“Oi, think fast,” came the voice of the Owl, and Shintaro looked up just in time to catch something flying through the air at him.

He looked blankly at what he’d been given, rolling over a red can in his hands: Coca-Cola. When he looked back up again, Seidou was right in front of him, towering over him with his pale arms crossed over his dark-cloaked chest.

“You like this stuff, right?” he scowled down at him, and Shintaro stared at him in silence. His gaze slowly went back to the drink, his brow furrowing.

“It’s okay,” he answered indifferently, opening it with a hiss.

Seidou’s eye narrowed to a slit, his lips parting. “You’re fucking kidding me.”

“What?”

The half-ghoul ran a hand through his white hair, ever exasperated. “Come on! You were practically swooning over the stuff!” He watched as Shintaro shrugged, then took a sip. “Do you feel a thing? Anything? Nothing?”

“I guess it’s kinda pleasant,” Shintaro offered. “It, um… tastes good.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Did you expect something else?”

Seidou could only bring a hand harshly to his own forehead. “No,” he answered through gritted teeth.

“Right.” Unconvinced, the harrowed one smiled a lopsided, dry smile. “Oh, right, because a can of soda could snap me out of this ‘harrowed’ condition. Cheers.” He began to gulp down his favorite drink, eyes closed. He choked on it, sputtering when he felt himself getting stabbed in the side of the arm. Icy, he glared at Seidou, who was now crouched next to him with the Harrowing Blade buried in the flesh of Shintaro’s shoulder. “What,” he said lowly, “…are you doing.”

Seidou peered at him with a form of suspicious hope, or something of the sort. “Are you better?”

Annoyed, Shintaro pulled his arm away from the blade, wiping at the cola that had run down his chin with tired, hateful eyes. “No, dumbass. Do you really think stabbing me again is gonna reverse it?”

Seidou’s lips were thinned into near nothing. “It might’ve.”

“Well you were wrong,” Shintaro scoffed. Seidou stabbed him again. “What the hell? I said it won’t work, damn it,”

“That time I just wanted to stab you.”

Shintaro’s mouth twitched.

Clicking his tongue, the owl furled himself there, his cloak covering his bent knees and his bare, black-nailed toes. He frowned disapprovingly at Shintaro. “This is stupid.”

The raven-haired one just stared at him, deadpan. “Yeah? I’d say troublesome.”

“This is ridiculous,” Seidou frowned. Before the other could answer him again, he continued, “I should not be having this conversation with you.”

“Which one?” Dully, he took another sip.

Seidou didn’t answer, burying his face in his knees and muttering “Stupid, stupid, stupid…,” over and over.

“What’s up with you?”

“YOU CAN’T BE LIKE THIS,” he snapped, jerking his head up from his knees.

Shintaro dully rubbed at the ear facing Seidou. “This is what I mean by ‘harsh on the ears.’”

That’s not the POINT.

“And the point is,” said the NEET, setting down the soda can and leaning back on one of his palms, “that you can’t have both of us spouting negativity. I was supposed to inspire you or something. Right?”

Seidou stared at him. “What.”

He held up an index finger. “You keep saying stuff like ‘I don’t care’ or ‘I’m the villain’ or whatever other stupid angsty line you’ve got, but the moment I told you that you saved me, you started backpedaling.” He shrugged again, his palms to the ceiling. “Not that it really matters. Now I’m harrowed, and you’re still just as problematic.”

“Problematic?” he spat, questioning. “Angsty?

“You already knew you were problematic, Seidou,” Shintaro sighed, looking bored. “Don’t act like it’s such a shocker. Isn’t that why you disappeared immediately after you got fast-forwarded? You couldn’t control yourself, and you knew it. I saw you at that confrontation with A-ya’s group, too – night before last, when all the buildings blew up? I can only imagine you were trying to help, only to fail like you always do.”

“What’s that supposed to—?”

“You avoided us just as much as we avoided you.” The raven-haired one closed his eyes. “Yeah, because we all knew you were problematic – even you knew.”

“You guys—left me, behind—when…”

“You ran off, and Akira thought it best to leave you be for now because of how volatile you were. Did you expect us to go searching right after you attacked Kaneki and bit a hunk out of Konoha? You weren’t exactly rational. Or friendly, for that matter.”

“I…” His jaw tightened, teeth bared.

“And that’s why only the most hopeful of fools thought that you might be able to be saved, you know?” His eyes opened, flickering red momentarily with that thin, cold smirk touching his lips. “Because nobody can fix you, not if you’re part of the problem.”

Seidou silently bowed his head, his shoulders bunched around his neck.

“No need to be so upset about it – it’s not like you’re the only one. After all, the real reason I could never solve the problem surrounding Ayano was that really, I was the problem all along.” He laughed without humor, spreading his arms. “I’m the one who killed her! I can solve anything, anything, that’s right – but I can’t solve the problem of Shintaro Kisaragi, just like you can’t solve the problem of Seidou Takizawa.”

“The—old Seidou Takizawa…was the problem… I—am…”

“The solution?” Shintaro scoffed, derisive. “Please. You’re even worse!” He leaned toward the half-ghoul, his grey eyes swirling into crimson. “You can go right ahead and say that you erased the person named Seidou Takizawa, but here you are, even more problematic than before.” He barked with harsh laughter. “If the only solution is complete deletion of existence, then it doesn’t matter at all! You, you’re the same person as you were in the beginning of this game—and me, I know that even if I kill myself, I’ll wake up to see the light of yesterday’s sun!”

Silently, Seidou stood. “It’s thinking like that that’s problematic. Asshole.” Shintaro frowned up into the bitter face of his apparent captor. “You’re a huge fucking contradiction, you know that?”

“And you’re not?”

Scoffing, Seidou turned on his heel, beginning towards one of the aisles. “I didn’t say that.”

 

Chapter 84: Collapse

Chapter Text

 

“We should move south now,” said Yato, his tone one of mild urgency.

“Because the largest group is approaching, aren’t they?” Nora, as usual, had little to no sense of urgency. Yato only gave a grunt of confirmation as he started through the woods, one arm wrapped over his gut. If he didn’t feel the toll yesterday, his wounds were certainly making themselves known now.

“Should we walk?” she inquired, trotting along at his side. “Or should we run?”

“Well, I can’t teleport at this point,” he uttered, jumping up to one of the tree branches. “Come, Hiiro.” As she brought a sleeve to her smiling mouth, his eyes flashed. “Hiki—” As she transformed into her sword form and he gripped her by the hilt, the heel of Kaneki’s shoe collided with the back of Yato’s head, a downward kick that sent him headfirst towards the ground – he righted himself in time to land in a crouching position. He brought the sword up only to just barely block an attack from Kaneki’s scaled appendages known as kagune.

After this initial collision, they diverged from one another, both in fighting position as they skidded along on the forest floor.

“Long time no see, Yato-san,” Kaneki spoke calmly.

“Oh,” Yato smiled drily, wiping at the blood spotting the corner of his mouth, “…it hasn’t been that long.”

“I’m glad to see that you’re still around.” A similar, softer smile was touching Kaneki’s own lips. It was just as cold.

They circled one another slowly. “You’re acting like yourself again,” commented the god. “You seemed possessed by something or another when last we spoke.”

“I’ve yet to know the monster that puppeteers me from the inside.”

“Is that so? Kaneki…”

“You’ve returned to your vices yourself, haven’t you? God of Calamity.”

Yato clicked his tongue and lunged to attack. With a crack of his index finger, Kaneki responded in kind. As they fought, Kaneki spoke. “I must pardon myself for some of the things I said when I faced you last. At the time, what I said was honest, but it isn’t so now.”

Yato watched the flickering eyes of Ken Kaneki take on a sheen of knowing warmth that disturbed him. He was struggling to keep up to pace with the half-ghoul. He didn’t return in kind the grace of meaningful conversation. He kept his teeth gritted as he dodged and fought and collided and took hits that he knew he couldn’t withstand for too long.

“Indeed,” said Kaneki, “at the time, I thought to hurt you for my own selfish reasons. Please understand, Yato-san, I don’t want to hurt you now. This might seem counterintuitive, given that I’m fighting you.” The half-ghoul dodged a swipe of Yato’s blade, flipping over him and landing at his back. “The truth is, I wanted to save you.”

Their backs to one another, Yato stiffened.

“But we can’t do that anymore.” Kaneki closed his eyes as Yato wheeled around to attack again, only to be blocked by Kaneki’s kagune. “No matter how much you hurt me, I will still think the best of you. That is the curse of my kindness. But you have not only wronged me, but my friends. My teammates. You’ve killed people close to me, and you’ve hurt the hearts of others. At this point in time…” He cracked his knuckle again, shifting back from defense to offense. “All I can do is kill you.” He smiled at the god. “Forgive me, Yato-san, for I am about to sin.”

Yato was pierced through the side; he spun backwards and tumbled on the ground, rolling into the trunk of a nearby tree with a pained yelp.

“I wonder, do you still detest that depravity of yours?” Kaneki asked him softly, looking down on him as he struggled, weak, to his feet. He used his sword for leverage, the blade digging into the earth.

Yato’s eyes burned cerulean; his breath was heavy. “That…” He struck at his foe, landing a slash down Kaneki’s front. “…doesn’t matter anymore.”  The god picked up his own pace, his will to live feeding the fire of his determination. At last, it seemed like he could be on-par with Kaneki. This energy won’t last long. I need to end this fast.

As they clashed and diverged and clashed again, Yato found himself evenly matched during this small window of vigor he’d managed to muster from within himself. He needed to off Kaneki quick, or else he needed to get out of there. Teleporting wasn’t an option right now – what could he do?

“Neat and clean,” said Nora, a warm assurance.

Giving a short nod, Yato kicked off from the ground and prepared to go down on the half-ghoul with all his force. Alright, Hiiro, let’s do it!

But as he swung his sword down, he was struck with something red and painful midair. He was knocked from his line of motion, landing awkwardly on one of his feet only to collapse to one knee, his breathing haggard. His swing knocked down a collection of trees a yard off from his target. What—the hell was…? He looked through the trees to see an angry face, a hand pointed straight at him. He rolled out of the way just in time to dodge the next curse from Rin Tohsaka’s hand.

Oh no. Eyes flicking from Rin to Kaneki, he jumped into the air to dodge another one of his attacks – he needed to hightail it out of there, and fast. Even if Kaneki followed him, Rin still had human speeds, if he remembered anything right.

He made a beeline for the south, Kaneki at his tail. He dodged attacks from the scaled kagune on the way, zig-zagging through the upper branches of the trees as fast as he could go. Whatever she hit me with—it drains your energy. I can’t afford any more hits from that, but I can handle Kaneki, for just a little bit longer…

A red-static curse burst through the branches just at his side, and he scrambled in another direction, shocked. But—?

Looking down, he saw what was wrong: Rin Tohsaka, arm pointed at him, was riding atop the shoulders of Shinichi Izumi, a smug smirk on her face. How many people are on his side?

Her bright blue eyes narrowed, Rin focused in on Yato and shot. With new apprehensive resolve, Yato changed directions again. He dodged well enough not to take a direct hit, but the thing grazed him. Even with that, he could feel his energy getting sapped. He felt dizziness take hold of him momentarily, and he jumped short of the next branch, falling with black hands ghosting over his vision before he caught himself on a lower branch, swinging up and pulling himself together to continue to chase. The power of Kaneki’s pained justice and the malice of Rin’s pride closed in on him, but none were quite so potent as the dark gaze of Shinichi boring into the god. As he glanced down at him, all he could note was the way his eyes narrowed just slightly, his pupils an abyss of vengeful rage. His lips, Yato saw them mouth the name ‘Ciel.’


“Does everyone know what their stations entail now?” Kaneki asked of everyone, standing among the ravaged part of the residential area, just near where the woods began. There were sounds of comprehension and agreement from the others situated around them. “Everyone go around – I’d like to be sure.” He put a hand on his own chest. “I’ll be the initial attack – a gauge of Yato’s strength and stability. Ideally, he’ll think he’s only up against me. If things go as they have, he and I will be pretty evenly matched.”

“Then I come in,” Rin spoke with her own authority, her arms crossed over her chest. “I’ll shoot at Yato when he’s not expecting it. You can count on me to deplete his energy reserves.”

“Or what little he has left,” Shinichi said softly, thoughtfully.

“Shinichi will be my transportation,” Rin added, jutting her thumb at the partial parasite.

He nodded. “And I will be used solely for speed unless Rin is injured. I’ll take her to Hide, in that case. If anyone else is wounded too severely, I pick them up and do the same.”

“I’m the medic,” Hide beamed. “I’m gonna keep moving around, try to stay close but—you know, not too close. I’ll do what I can in the meantime, but it’s tough with just a stone knife.” He laughed at that, then patted at the medical bag now slung over his shoulder. “But if you’re hurt, I’ve got your back.”

Shirou nodded to Hide with a smile. “Konoha and I are the third wave,” the redhead said. “For speed, I’ve got Konoha to take me around. I’ll be using my own bow and arrow to shoot at the enemy.”

“And if Shirou does not need to move around fast at the moment,” Konoha came in with his soft voice, “then I help Kaneki fighting the bad person, right up front. I also am the one to find him.”

“Is that everything?” asked Kaneki, his hand to his chin.

Konoha thought about it. “Also, I should listen for other players around us.”

“Very good.” Kaneki closed his eyes, smiling. “It’s still before noon… Let’s get moving.”

“Let’s give this one the best we’ve got!” Hide raised a fist in the air, grinning wide.

“After all…” – Rin’s eyes narrowed – “…this is the guy that killed Tsukiyama, isn’t he?”

“Tsukiyama…” Kaneki’s eyes were overcast, tired. “…And Saiko…”

Shirou bowed his head in respect to these names. Konoha looked mildly sorrowful.

“Ciel Phantomhive.”

Rin and Hide turned to look at the partial parasite, whose single hand was tightened into a white-knuckled fist.

“This person killed Ciel Phantomhive,” Shinichi said lowly. “It’s high time for him to…”

Hide brought a hand to Shinichi’s shoulder, eyes sympathetic. The human paid no mind to Shinichi’s menacing gaze suddenly on him. “We’ll get him,” he assured, and Shinichi’s expression softened.

The partial parasite nodded with a soft sound of concurrence.

Kaneki’s eyes shone with the fortitude to end this. “Shall we?” he asked.


Yato slammed into the ground after an attack from Kaneki, blood spraying from his mouth on impact. He tried to roll over to dodge Kaneki’s next attack, but found himself nearly rolling right into Konoha’s fist plowing into the earth from above, shattering the ground and sending Yato into the debris. “Is he trying to bury me?” he cried aloud, clawing his way from under a tree. His ankle throbbed and protested – that didn’t matter. Who else was here, now?

Before he could stand fully, he had an arrow through his shoulder, pinning him to the fallen tree. Hissing in frustration, he yanked it out and jumped to the other side of the trunk as Konoha shattered the wood with his fist. Yato could only stare as he watched them all surround him, five opponents in all. Kaneki, calmly standing with his six scaled appendages pointed in Yato’s direction. Konoha, in fighting stance, a purified vessel now looking into the God of Calamity with a face as blank as an unpainted canvas. Rin, arm still pointed at him and ready to shoot her energy-draining curses. Shinichi, his dark eyes unforgiving. Shirou, holding up a bow he’d made from a tree branch, wielding arrows made from the same material. Yato swore that there were brown eyes looking into him even from beside the thinning trees beyond them – Hide, holding tight to the medical bag.

This is bad, he thought. Damn it. They just looked at him as the panic rose in his chest. Damn it. They weren’t even saying anything. Damn it—damn it, damn it, damn it…

“I don’t like how badly they’re hurting you,” Nora’s tones were chilled.

“They’re going to kill me, Hiiro,” he said tightly. “If they do, get out of here.” You still have enough energy to teleport if you need to, right?

“That’s right,” she agreed. “But you’ll make it. This will be fine. And then we can make them pay.”

“What do you mean?” he snapped aloud. “Don’t you get it? I am going to die!

“And what was it for?” Kaneki asked, brow furrowed. He tilted his head, going cold. “Is it due to Yukine-kun’s loss? Is it that it hurt you so terribly, only for you to take away those which others hold dear to them?”

Jaw tightening, he brought Nora into a defensive position. He didn’t answer.

“You know, I’m the last remaining member of my original group, myself,” Kaneki said, taking a step towards the God of Calamity. He paused, appearing to consider saying something more before deciding against it. “In any case, goodbye, Yato.”

Yato looked around for a way out. Who could he plow through the quickest? The boy with the red hair? The girl with the dark pigtails? It was true that she was no longer on the shoulders of Shinichi, but he was still just beside her.

“Hiiro, get out of—”

They didn’t give him the chance to finish – Konoha and Kaneki lunged at once as from the sky, lightning crackled scarlet, booming around them as it tore through the already-damaged ground and sent Kaneki and Konoha backwards, the android shuddering at the close contact. He sensed the presence of the demon he so feared.

“A-ya?” Shinichi barked in alarm, looking around to try and find the source of the attack.

“An alliance?” Kaneki was just as urgent, poised for an attack in any direction. “No, not right.” He looked into the confused face of Yato. If that were the case, he wouldn’t be… “Everyone, don’t let it stop you!” he commanded, and everyone looked to him. “Just be careful!”

There was a chorus of concurrence, but as Shirou strung up his bow again, a lightning strike just barely missed him, sending him staggering backwards. The electricity filled their area with static, the atmosphere hyper-charged with the power of the dark-clad hero.

“Where’s the source?” Shinichi demanded.

“What’s he getting involved for?” snapped Rin.

“Helping Yato?” Shirou asked blankly.

“The most important thing is to kill Yato!” Shinichi said above the confusion. “We can’t hesitate!”

“Right!” cried Rin and Shirou respectively, even as Kaneki pushed Konoha away from Yato as he lunged for him himself.

Perched atop a building overlooking the forest not too far away, A-ya smiled. “You knew that you were going to be attacked soon, didn’t you?” they asked, raising a hand to the sky. “You’re clever, at least.” He struck them with ease, the electricity dancing below. “…Nora.


Rika awoke to an empty shed. She sat up immediately, looking to Hanyuu in question.

“Yukiteru,” the goddess said, “is just outside.”

Rika nodded, getting to her feet and rubbing her head. Perhaps she needed more sleep than she had given herself credit for. She padded to the door, open a crack, and swung it outward, stepping onto the grass awaiting a step down. There he was, as Hanyuu said, standing barefoot in that dark cloak and staring out into seemingly nothing. A smile was touching his lips, just slightly.

“Yukiteru,” she greeted. “Good morning. What is it that…?” She felt the ground vibrating beneath her feet; listened to the crashing and clashing sounds of battle somewhere to the east.

“Good morning,” Yukiteru said distractedly, and leapt into the air.

“Wh—Yukiteru, wait!” she called out to him, but he merely hovered above them, trying to get a good view of what was going on. She thought she saw his smile widen.

He came down quickly, his visage one of exuberance. “Hey, Rika, Rika-chan!” He sounded like an excited child, but his eyes were wide and had a light to them that distinctly worried the ten-year-old.

“Nii?” Hands happily outspread, she humored him anyway.

He smiled a closed-eye smile. “A-ya is over there, too. Isn’t that wonderful, Rika? We’ve found him!”

“He may be a little preoccupied, that is so… Don’t you think?”

“That’s okay.” He grabbed the machine gun from the ground, falling into a crouch. “After this, I can talk to him. I need to talk to him. Right?” And he jumped up into the air again, leaving Rika with her mouth open, lost for words. He gestured to her with one hand, levitating her from the ground and bringing her up to his level above the trees.

“Ah—” She drew her legs closer to herself, her hands clutching at her skirt.

Hanyuu was far more panicked. “Riiika, this is way too high up for you, it is, oh, oh no, uu… uwaauaauuu!”

Hanyuu, be quiet for a moment, she thought desperately, trying to look out to where Yukiteru was looking. She feared that she had misjudged Yukiteru’s stability. “Please, Yukiteru…,” she said to him. “Don’t do anything too rash.”

“Rash?” he repeated, peering out to where the fight was occurring. They watched lightning flash and dust rise. “Aa, I wonder where he is…” She watched him thoughtfully bring a hand to his chin, his brow furrowed. His cloak billowed in the winds above the trees. “The leaves are too thick; I can’t see.”

“Perhaps we should approach on foot for now,” Rika suggested. “If they’re fighting, wouldn’t it be better to be careful getting closer?”

It was though he didn’t hear her, his expression lighting up as he tossed the machine gun to the side and caught it with gravitation alone, raising open hands apart from himself before he swung his arms forward again, sending a debilitating wave crashing through the trees and downing the forest in its entirety. Rika stared in appall as she watched every tree fall like dominoes in an ever-accelerating movement that left dirt and dust rising in its wake. Even as the destruction multiplied and expanded, Yukiteru’s smile, too, spread over his delighted face. Over the deafening roar of felled wood, he shouted his friends name. Again. Again. “A-ya, I’m coming now!” he called, the dust rising silently in answer. “I’m coming!

Rika could only hold onto herself as Yukiteru jumped down to the torn forest floor and began to run, almost gliding along with Rika being pulled behind him, kept suspended in the air.

The group fighting heard the roar before they knew what it was. Yato appeared to recognize the sound of splintering wood first, making a move to jump in the air. “Hold it!” barked Rin, pointing her arm to him. Before she could shoot, Shirou was on her. Similarly, Kaneki attempted to lunge forward to protect Hide, to no avail.

Konoha blinked at the incoming wave of energy and used his own fists to protect himself, in the meantime, but Shinichi merely stood his ground and stared in awe. “I know that voice,” he said, eyes wide. Yato was blown back to the ground by the energy wave, lying still on the ground somewhere behind Kaneki and Konoha. Nora had reverted, gently jostling his shoulder to try and make him stir. Following the blast, there was a heavy, dizzying silence. Dirt filled the air, creating a haze.

“Yukiteru,” Shinichi uttered, and turned to where he’d heard the sound. Without another word, he began to run in that direction.

“Shinichi!” Rin cried out, snapping out of her initial flustered state of having been beneath Shirou Emiya. She scrambled out from under the tree she was trapped beneath with Shirou. “Where are you—? Wait!” She glanced back at Shirou, who was grimacing in his place beneath the trunk.

“Tohsaka-chan?” He looked at her with one golden eye shut. “Are you—alright?”

“Take care of yourself,” she sniffed. Her physical condition was beaten but unbroken. She paused, considering her next decision. In a death game, only oneself should matter. Therefore, Shinichi going out on his own; that was a bad idea on his part. Shinichi was the one that had arguably saved her group when Tsukiyama had perished, though, too—hadn’t he? “Oh, shoot…” If Shinichi was headed towards the guy that had just demolished a forest, then surely he couldn’t take them on his own, if he were to attack.

Rin clicked her tongue, unable to believe herself. “I’ll be back—!” Shutting her eyes tight in denial of the turnaround she’d just accepted within herself, she ran after Shinichi. “Shirou, just be there when I get back!”

“T—Tohsaka-chan!”

Hide’s eyes flickered from beneath a haven of twisted branches. I have a bad feeling about this… He listened to the sounds of everyone moving again, straining for a sign of Yato’s comeback, or A-ya’s… or even just the sounds of Kaneki or Konoha. Was everyone alright?

He picked through the twisted branches, pulling the medical bag carefully with him. He could barely see a yard ahead of himself in this haze. Yikes… His logic pushed him to tend to Shirou; to see whether anyone else needed tending to. His gut, on the other hand… his gut was edging him desperately towards Shinichi and Rin. He got to his feet, swallowing hard. Don’t worry, Kaneki… Painfully, he turned to where Shinichi and Rin had run. I’ll be right back.

 

Chapter 85: In His Heart

Chapter Text

 

To those who weren’t in the forest, this was still quite the commotion. A-ya stared blankly at the destruction approaching, but being on the edge where the trees thinned to nothing, he was able to back off and jump to a building where he wouldn’t be affected by the devastation of felled trees. “I can’t see, now,” they commented quietly. A-ya himself was dumbfounded. “But what just…? Who?”

Shintaro gazed indifferently at the rising dirt and dust, blurring the lines between land and earth somewhere beyond the shopping district. He was looking through the front window of the shop that he and Seidou were in at the time. Unconcerned, he sipped at his third can of cola of the day.

Seidou approached from behind, peering over the NEET’s shoulder with narrowed eyes. “Loud,” he remarked. Shintaro glanced beside him to see that Seidou was beginning to gnaw at one of his own fingers. “Big fight, or something.”

“Yep.” Another sip. “Not our problem.”

Seidou looked at Shintaro with a wide, blank eye as he turned from the window and began walking back to the counter he’d been sitting at previously. Shintaro did nothing when the half-ghoul smacked the Coca-Cola from his hand to the floor. The silence that followed the roar outside was filled with the spilled soda’s muted, fizzling protest. Shintaro and Seidou looked at one another for some time. No words.

On the other side of the shopping district was Izaya Orihara, picking through the medical supplies of a pharmacy he’d stayed in once upon a time. He’d already washed off much of the blood from his body – his jacket and shirt had been folded neatly on a chair in the near vicinity. Somehow, he’d been wrong about his own wounds – his stomach was not open, though it was certainly severely bruised. He guessed it was for the better. What a pain it would be to duct tape his torso.

So now he sat in front of the wall of windows that made up his storefront, his jacket beside him with his torn V-neck already on. A tightly-bandaged hand rested on his knee as he watched the dust rise above the buildings. He’d gathered light things to eat, medicine, and a bottle of water that he brought to his lips as the park woods were demolished. He swallowed the water painfully.

“I wonder who’s fighting who,” he said to no one in particular. “I suppose that I may not go back to Twelve and Suzu-chan after all.” He wiped at his mouth absently. “Too bad. I was thinking of giving that scythe a try.” Pausing, his pallid face grew tired. “Hm. Blood loss sure is troublesome.” He lifted a bottle, opened it, and poured a few tablets into his palm. “Iron supple-somethings,” he commented mildly, and popped them into his mouth. “My favorite.”


“Do you really think this such a good idea?”

Yukki didn’t even glance back at Rika for her inquiry.

“Yukiteru—slow down!”

He did. “Why?” he asked her. “The longer we take, the greater the risk that A-ya will get—”

“Yukiteru.”

He slowed to a stop, turning around to face Rika, whose voice had dropped to near-prophetic urgency. His blue eyes flicking away from her gaze, he gently returned her to her feet.

“I’m not questioning you, no,” she said in her usual child-like tones, “but did Yukiteru consider that maybe A-ya could have gotten hurt by the trees that you just felled?”

Yukki blinked. “He wouldn’t have—”

“Couldn’t you have hurt somebody else? That is bad, that is so.”

“I—I wouldn’t have meant to… necessarily…” He began wringing his wrists, his eyes wandering anywhere but to Rika herself. “But—would it really matter?”

“Nii?” Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“This is… a battle royal…” He shifted from foot to foot, his voice taking on that off tone. “And fake or not, isn’t it still true that everyone else will still try to kill each other? That’s what that was, just now, wasn’t it? The sounds of fighting? Even the people who pretend to be nice, they never are actually, right?”

“That is not always the case.”

“I was once warned to beware of the ones who are kindest to you. They’re the ones… who—”

“What you should beware of,” Rika spoke coolly, “is such paranoia. It can lead to irrational mistakes. Can you think of anyone that has made such mistakes out of paranoia? Perhaps Keiichi? C-ta?”

Yukiteru stiffened.

Rika,” Hanyuu cried, unheard by Yukki. “Don’t make him mad…”

Rika did not waver.

“Keiichi and C-ta… you know them,” Yukiteru said faintly. “Okay, well… You’re right.” He rubbed at the back of his head. “They tried to kill A-ya or I, for no other reason than out of fear.”

Rika nodded, and Hanyuu sighed in relief. “Let’s go through this logically, then.”

“Mm,” Yukiteru nodded his head right back. “Am I scared, then? I guess so.”

“Me too, Yukiteru,” she said softly. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” he said flatly, and she looked at him in question. “Because how am I supposed to trust anybody at all, after this?”

Her eyes held empathy, softening and drifting downward. “What Yato did…”

“Not just Yato,” he said abruptly. “Rika-chan, what about Keiichi and C-ta, huh?” He smiled brokenly at her. “The four of us weren’t even attacked the first two days in the game. I was convinced that if we gave our all, then we could all make it out alive. I thought to myself that I was happy for who I was with. And yet Keiichi tried to kill A-ya, when Keiichi was the one that pulled us all together in the first place? Huh? And C-ta tried to kill both of us – I don’t even know what he was thinking at that point.”

“Yukiteru…”

“Let’s keep going,” he pressed. “Akise-kun was someone that was one of my first friends at home. I believed in him. You tried to warn me about him, but I defended him because I thought that he only had good intent. But how can that be the truth? How can it? Huh? When he was the only one we didn’t find after Yato betrayed us! The only answer can be that he was anticipating that all along, too! I bet that traitor’s with Yato, right now!”

“I don’t know that—”

“Be quiet, would you?!” he snapped. He was clutching the machine gun tightly to himself. She shut her mouth, her eyes shining in concern. “I can’t even trust you, you know! Why does everyone have to keep secrets? Why does it have to be that way?!”

“Yukiteru, everyone has secrets,” Rika interjected, and he pointed the gun at her with a pained expression.

“If I could trust you, I’d already know the name Hanyuu!

She froze. Beside her, Hanyuu was just as silent.

His eyes began to spill, his teeth gritted. “Yeah, that’s right—I heard you talking to them last night. So what? What’re you gonna say now?”

“I would like to talk about all of this,” she answered calmly.

“I am talking about it!” He shifted his footing, cocking the gun. “It’s not like I want anyone else to die. It’s not that. It really isn’t that. But why should it matter if they’ll all come back next time? You’ve seen the other parallels of this game, haven’t you? So you should know this better than anyone else!” Salty liquid dripped down his chin from his eyes through the haze of air, his expression filled to the brim with hurt and anger. “I know that A-ya’s possessed by a demon, so it’s not like this is any different—I know that I can’t trust him either, but after all this time, he was still—always there for me, from the very beginning. We helped each other out, and that was kinda amazing. He saved me, and I saved him, and that’s why—” He paused, expression darkening. “I know A-ya better than anyone else in this game, right? It’s not like he wants anyone else to die either; he just wants to start again! And starting over to make our happy ending is really the only way to go!”

“Reset may not be the answer,” she began, but he cut her off again:

I don’t want to hear it from you! We’ll end the game, him and I, and we’ll make the game masters give us a happily ever after—”

“It isn’t going to work like—”

“SHUT UP! It’s not like I can trust anyone else!”

“You can trust me!” she cried in all sincerity.

No, I can’t!” he answered with just as much desperation, and they both froze momentarily as they heard pounding footsteps approaching.

Yukiteru wheeled around, screaming and pointing the gun while Rika begged for him to stop, even as he pulled the trigger and shot through the blurry haze. She covered her ears at the loudness, and Yukiteru stopped firing, lowering the gun just slightly. Dead silence filled the air just as the haze, followed by a heavy thud. More quiet. Ringing, perhaps.

Rika’s knees were locked, her eyes closed. Her hands had moved from her ears to her mouth. She didn’t know the results of the shooting, but wasn’t all too sure she wanted to know.

Wide-eyed, Yukiteru stepped towards where he’d shot, his bare feet padding gently on the wood beneath him. Were they dead? Had he killed someone? Something squeezed in his chest as he lifted the haze just enough to see a few meters again. Clearing the air revealed a fallen body familiar to his lost blue eyes, lying on his stomach with his only hand still outstretched as if he’d been reaching for him. “It’s… Shinichi?”

Hands shaking with appall, Yukki rolled him over to see his chest blossoming crimson. His eyes were open. Glazed. “A hole—in his…?”

He thought that perhaps he was trembling. Shinichi’s dead. I… But he was the one who… He went to his knees, eyes widening as if they could better comprehend such a thing if they were more open. I just… I—just… I didn’t mean— His thoughts took him back to their group conglomerate. Even the awkward Yukiteru could have conversation with someone as kind and friendly as Shinichi Izumi. What had happened, again?

That’s right, I’d taken A-ya by the hand and run off with him. That was when we met Aureus, and then… His thoughts swirled and spilled and swept over him like a sea tainted red, and like the Red Sea, it parted in one pointed epiphany that cleared his path. Here it was, his decision. This was what resolve was.

Didn’t you say it was all just a dream, A-ya? Didn’t you say it was a play? He stood slowly, like rising from murky waters. I know the part I need to play. His grip tightened on the firearm. He felt his insides vibrating. I want to dream with you.

The haze lifted at his will; though he’d been deaf to the world around him, sound began to register again. More footsteps, more voices. When the air cleared, a girl in red and black cried Shinichi’s name. “Oi, you—!” Yukiteru pointed the gun at her as she pointed her hand at him. In a flash of fire and red static, the machine gun was blown from his hands. The smatter of bullets he’d fired went harmlessly off the mark, embedding themselves in soil and wood. This girl he didn’t know, she started shooting curses at him. Jaw tightening, the cloaked one dodged once, twice, and leapt to the side, towards Rika.

“Yuki—!”

Rika didn’t get the chance to finish – Yukiteru snatched her knife from her as a curse was dispelled midair by an unseen force. Yukki couldn’t have known it was Hanyuu protecting them. Without a word, Yukiteru went for Rin Tohsaka without listening to the shouting from beyond, a boy with bleached blond hair and a medical bag slung over his shoulder.

“Stop!” Hide called, running as fast as his human self could. “Both of you, stop fighting!” Neither of them did.

“You—killed—Shinichi!” shouted Rin, and Yukiteru swiftly flew towards her and stabbed her in the gut. She grabbed his bare wrist and gripped it tight as she brought her leg up to kick him in the face. The cloaked one ducked, twisting the knife and shoving her backwards, yanking the blade from her grip and cutting her fine fingers. She staggered backwards, and he stabbed her again, and again. She was still breathing. She wasn’t dead yet. She needed to—

“Let her go!” Yukiteru backed off as a medical bag smacked him in the face. The strap caught on his neck and choked him for a second, and by the time the cloaked one managed to free himself, he was getting stabbed by a scalpel Hide had thrown at him. Yukiteru spread his stance as Hide pulled out his stone knife, swallowing. “Leave her alone, would you?!”

Yukiteru came at him without hesitation, but though Hide braced himself, the soil underfoot was cast into his face with a wave of Yukki’s hand, successfully blinding him. “Oh, shoot—!” He prepared to lash out without sight, and as the fourteen-year-old ran to slash him, Rika jumped between them, her arms outspread. Acting as a shield, she was slashed in Hide’s place. Though she grimaced, she barely vocalized her pain. Belatedly, the armadillo Kincho ran between everyone and squealed in distress.

“Rika?” Yukiteru stared blankly at her. His eyes began to gradually flicker back to life.

Squinting through bleary eyes, Hide peered at Rika. What was a kid doing here? “Hey…” Glancing to the blurry figure of Yukiteru, Hide took a deep breath, grabbed Rika by the wrist, and began to run. “Let’s get outta here!” She scooped up Kincho, and he scooped up the medical bag. “Rin! I’ll be right back!”

Yukiteru made no move to chase them, staring after them blankly. He swayed on his feet, collapsing to the ground. His palms sinking into soft earth, nausea settled on him. He felt so very ill.

He bowed his head, kneeling on his hands and knees in the midst of the forest he’d destroyed. “A-ya,” he uttered. It was all he could think to say.


Gunshots? Kaneki listened hard, trying and make out what the commotion was. Kaneki noted the way frost’s hands curled around his heart – the tendrils of dread. I need to make sure Hide is okay. If he isn’t… I— He could hear his blood pumping in his eardrums as he looked behind him to see if he could make out Yato. In this dust cloud, he had no way do so. He’d need to physically go and check, and knowing that A-ya had just aided him, there was every possibility that the possessed one would take the chance for an ambush. At this point, he needed to make sure that no one came at them from behind—but what about those gunshots to the west?

Where is everyone, right now? Where is Hide?

Konoha, meanwhile, was currently lifting a tree from overtop Shirou Emiya, picking the redhead up from the ground as he casually dropped the toppled tree. The redhead mumbled an apology.

Konoha blinked, then slung Shirou over his shoulder. “Why are you sorry?” asked the android.

“I…”

“I don’t see any reason for you to apologize.”

“But Tohsaka-chan… is…”

“I can’t say it will definitely be fine, but I can say that you did your best. I am sure of this.”

Shirou frowned at the ground, his hands at Konoha’s back. “Thanks,” he said eventually. “For lifting that tree, of course. I don’t know whether I could have gotten out myself. I didn’t really…”

“…Do much?” Confusion colored the albino’s tone. “Didn’t you save Rin from getting crushed, herself?”

“I did,” he agreed, though his expression was grave.

The cloud around them was lifted, and Kaneki immediately checked the perimeter of their immediate area. Yato wasn’t in sight, but more importantly…

“Konoha.” He spoke urgently.

The android turned to look at him, and Shirou peered at him from his awkward position himself. “Yes, Kaneki?”

“Where are the others? Hide?”

“Rin followed Shinichi that way,” said Shirou, pointing.

Konoha nodded. “All three of them are approaching a group of two, I think.”

Kaneki brought a hand to his chest. Then Hide survived the blast. “And Yato? A-ya?”

“Somewhere that way, I think,” the android answered, pointing towards the city. “Away.”

“Away… huh.” Kaneki brought a hand to his chin. “Then we should follow the other three – if they end up fighting, they might need backup.”

Konoha nodded, and he and Kaneki began to run, Shirou still slung over the shoulder of the android. Running over the carnage of wood and greenery, they found it far easier to make out what was ahead. It wasn’t long before Kaneki felt his heart leaping up all the way to the soft palette of his mouth – there was Hide, running towards them with everything he had, pulling along someone that came only just above his hip in height. Kaneki called out to him, speeding up until he could reach him.

Hide returned a lopsided, warm grin, but shook his head. “Rin—someone needs to carry Rin.”

“Tohsaka-chan?” Shirou immediately tried to get off of Konoha’s shoulder, to no avail. The android looked ahead, unconcerned.

“Don’t exert yourself too much, Shirou,” Kaneki sighed, a reassuring smile touching his lips. “I will go get her, safe and sound. Hide, is there still anyone else that way? The one that hurt Rin?”

The small girl that Hide was holding the wrist of averted her gaze from the half-ghoul. Kaneki offered a thawed expression, giving a closed-eye smile in turn. Even if Hide was okay, that didn’t change the fact that Rin was injured, not to mention… The thought of Shinichi brought Kaneki a different kind of pain. Could it be that he…?

“Ah, about that…” Hide scratched at his cheek. His breathing was still labored. “That direction, there’s this kid. He seems like he’s sure hurting a lot. I’ll bet he’s making a lot of mistakes right now he’ll regret, so… We should be careful of him.”

Kaneki nodded curtly. “No time to waste.” And he went to get Rin. By the time he reached her, she had already staggered to her feet only for Kaneki to scoop her up in his arms, telling her that he would take care of her and it would be alright. He saw Shinichi’s body and gazed upon it without expression – just the slightest sign of distress in the curve of his brow.

“Let’s leave,” she said, her voice tight.

There was no one else around.

When Kaneki returned to the others, he first addressed the youngest, newest member of their group. “You’ve probably seen quite a lot, Miss. What’s your name?”

“Un… I’m Rika, that is so…” Her voice was quiet and fragile.

“Well, Rika-chan,” Kaneki smiled, “we’re going to take good care of you now, okay?”

Smiling back, she nodded. “Mm.”

Konoha looked to the half-ghoul curiously as he turned to the city, eyes dark. “We need to get to a safe place and tend to Tohsaka-chan and Shirou-kun immediately.” He paused, then began to walk. “Let’s go.”


I really am… alone now, huh?” Yukiteru wiped his mouth of vomit, his vision blurry. Grasping at the machine gun and at the knife that had belonged to Rika, he got slowly to his feet. He heard people approaching again. He went to Rin; she looked so angry, but he recognized that look of fear hidden deep in her blue eyes. They were like his own eyes, weren’t they? Though he wasn’t so angry, himself. “Aa…” Those eyes of hers widened, and he looked down on her. He wondered what his own expression looked like. “Tell me… What is your name?” he asked her, tilting his head.

“My—name?” She had a thin line of blood running down her chin.

“What was it, something like ‘Rin’? Was that it?”

“Why should I tell you?” she spat. He didn’t react to her acid.

“Why? I guess… because, I want to know your name? Since I hurt you and all.”

“How is that—?”

“Maybe it’s a weird reason, after all,” he admitted, and laughed a bit. “I guess you’re lucky, huh?”

“Wh…?” Her teeth were clenched, stained red like her vividly vermilion shirt.

“Hehe.” He beamed at her. “Because I didn’t kill you quite yet. It’s alright, Rin; I need to leave now anyway. Nice to meet you.” He swayed on his feet, his smile fading before he leapt into the air and disappeared from her sight.


A-ya jumped down to the fallen Yato, looking down without expression as he stuck his hands in his pockets. “Ah, it’s the possessed one,” Nora smiled at him, and A-ya looked at her with utmost skepticism.

Yato rolled over to look, his expression twisted into a grimace and his body heaving with every labored breath. “You…

“Thank you very much for your help,” Nora said sweetly, and gently brushed her hair from her face. “I hope you haven’t come here to hurt us now.”

I can’t make any promises,” they said, and Nora’s eyes narrowed just slightly.

“Your eyes,” she remarked, “…aren’t so pretty anymore. You really are losing yourself, A-ya. Poor little boy.”

A-ya frowned, the scarlet in his gaze flickering. “What do you expect from me now?” the serpent hissed. “You can’t honestly believe I’m here for any other reason but to kill your master.

“I won’t let you have him,” she said matter-of-factly, stroking the hair of the god. She was cradling his head in her lap. “I finally have him back with me. I don’t want to lose that.” She narrowed her eyes, her smile remaining. “Absolutely not.”

A-ya spread his arms. “Oh, but imagine the rumor I could speak to infect his final thoughts. You gave me fuel for the fire yourself, didn’t you? I think it would be a fun tragedy, don’t you think? Nora.” He sneered at her, but she just stared back, calm. Distantly, gunshots sounded, and Nora and the possessed both looked. A-ya wasn’t sure what to make of it, himself.

Yato did. He just shut his eyes tight, speaking with effort. “Yu—kki…”

Nora watched in interest as A-ya’s eyes flickered again. “Hm,” was all A-ya gave before he picked Yato up with ease. Nora blinked at him, wide-eyed. “Coming?” he asked her, and she got to her feet. They leapt away as the haze lifted, disappearing into the city.

“I—don’t want help… from you,” Yato argued brokenly even as A-ya stopped in the building he’d stayed in just the night before, on the same level. The possessed one dropped him to the floor there without a word. “There’s no helping you now,” Yato spoke weakly, his mouth twisting into a weary but bitter smirk. “Completely—corrupted…”

“Oh, be polite,” Nora berated him softly. “He’s saved you, you know.”

Yato bit his tongue.

“You still hurt my group,” A-ya said flatly. “I might just want revenge after this. So… hopefully when next we meet you’ll be a fight worth having. If not, you’re one less opponent to face. That being said… I’ll be leaving you here. Figure something out.” He glanced to Nora, and nodded to her without expression before jumping back out into the city.

Nora stared after him, tilting her head. “…Huh. Interesting…” She turned back to Yato with another smile and a warm embrace. “Well, let’s take care of you, then, shall we?”

Yato couldn’t think of anything else to do.

 

Chapter 86: The Word Of

Chapter Text

 

“They really aren’t coming to get you,” Seidou grumbled, rubbing at the back of his head as he glared out the window. “I mean, obviously they’re distracted. If they’re involved. Which they probably are. But still.”

“I don’t know what’s got you so confused,” Shintaro shrugged. They were still in the same shop.

“You’re my hostage. You’d think they’d come for you by now.”

“Do you want them to?”

“I mean—well, it’s not that I want them to, but I just—” He squinted at the ground, biting at his thumb. “Like, they should probably—want to find you?”

“Maybe they think I’m dead,” the NEET suggested, tilting his head with an expression suggesting boredom.

Seidou frowned deeply. “Maybe…” He paused. “They won’t ever find you here, huh? Heehee, so that’s where we’re at, eh?”

“What’s that change of attitude?”

“Huh?”

“Oh, nothing. Whatever.”

Seidou clicked his tongue. He stood, silent, for some time. “Do you want them to find you?” he asked.

“I don’t care.”

Seidou’s single eye flashed, and he glowered at the impassive Shintaro. “You really don’t care at all.”

He only shrugged again, impartial. “What difference would it make?”

Seidou looked away. More silence. Then, “We’re heading out.”

“Hm?” Shintaro’s grey gaze went to him again as the half-ghoul went to the door. “What exactly do you have in mind now?”

“Whoever fought with whoever, they’re gonna spread out from one another after it’s over. We’re close, so we’re moving away. Make sense?”

“Oh, alright.” Shintaro struggled to the machine gun up from the ground, and Seidou eyed him. At least he still had the strength of a shut-in. “I was almost concerned that you would be dragging me towards the others.”

“I told you, I’m not going back to them!” he snapped. “I—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Shintaro sighed, exiting the door with the half-ghoul. “You’re a filthy traitor; you’re not going back. I get it.”

“I was going to say that I hate them.”

“That too.”

Seidou huffed. “I violently disagree with whatever that knife did to you.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Seidou rolled his one open eye as he led the way south. “We’re heading to the industrial area and taking shelter in one of the factories,” he said bitterly. “You’ve been fed and whatever, so it’s fine to be away from all of these food sources.”

“But how long will we be there? There’s no point – shouldn’t we head to the core of the city, where the layout is more complex? Everyone’s centered in this area, so we need to head west.”

Seidou glared at him. “Don’t tell me what to do.

“Just a suggestion.”

“We’re going North!”

“North?” Shintaro frowned. “Why North?”

“Because you’re an asshole, that’s why!”

“I don’t think my being an ass should have to do with which direction we take.”

“We’re going to the residential area!”

“I think that’s where Kaneki and the others are staying,” Shintaro remarked, absently scratching at his head.

“Then we’ll go to the city!”

“Isn’t that what I just—”

Shut up!” A low growl rumbling in his throat, Seidou stalked his way down the street, Shintaro following behind, none too thrilled. The NEET’s pace faltered and slowed to a halt in front of one of the shops they passed. Seidou didn’t notice, grumbling how unbelievable Shintaro was and how he shouldn’t be trying to make him feel like an idiot, and how Shintaro was the hostage and therefore shouldn’t be making suggestions in the first place, so—

The sound of the machine gun going off and the sound of shattering glass made Seidou wheel around to the sight of Shintaro shooting out a glass-walled storefront nearby. “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?

Shintaro stopped, then looked at Seidou with that terribly expressionless face.

“WHY ARE YOU SHOOTING? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?”

“There was somebody in there,” he uttered, picking at one of his ears and looking vaguely agitated.

“So you SHOT AT THEM?

“Why not? You seem to try and kill everyone in sight.”

“Oh, for FUCK’S SAKE!” he cried, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “Was that REALLY necessary?!”

“Are you really necessary?”

Seidou frowned, sour. “I can’t BELIEVE you,” he hissed, stalking his way over the broken glass and into the store. There was a chair set up and a spilled bottle of water at the front. Seidou leaned down and inspected the drops of blood on the floor. “Huh…” But who could it be? No one came to mind, though he could still smell somebody around, and their blood was—

Seidou found himself being bombarded with bullets from behind, none of them able to penetrate his skin, immune to metal. That didn’t mean it wouldn’t leave bruises.

He wheeled around to face his hostage, clearly livid. “What do you think you’re doing?!

Shintaro stopped shooting again. Shrugged. “Shooting you.”

“WHY. IT CAN’T EVEN KILL ME.”

“It was worth a shot.”

“Oh, what the shit.” He went faster than the human eye could see, suddenly in front of the red-jerseyed kid, their faces centimeters apart. Shintaro still did not react. Seidou’s eye narrowed. He snatched the machine gun from the other. “We are going to avoid the other groups. Avoid them. Understand?”

“Sure,” Shintaro said flatly, sticking his hands in his pockets.

“I can’t. I really can’t…”

Izaya listened to them from inside the manager’s office, holding his breath. One hand was wrapped over his gut, the other over his own mouth. I can’t afford a meeting with Seidou. Not right now. Slowly releasing his breath, he removed his hand from his mouth and put it on the hilt of the Prophet. He can undoubtedly smell me. Shintaro, for some reason, is also… Izaya closed his eyes.

He had been reading over Akise’s journal before they’d passed by. Apparently he’d gathered quite the collection of information. Yukiteru had met two of the game masters: one was speculated to be an items master, the other had allegedly called himself the ‘timekeeper.’ Both were shrouded in mystery, but Yukki had been far more talkative about the timekeeper, who called himself Rodd. The items master, on the other hand, had a level of classification to him that did not permit anyone who had found him to talk about him at all.

It was noted that there were seven game masters in all, but it was also written that this number may not have come from an entirely reliable source. It was speculated by the silver-haired detective that there may be other masers that were even more secret than the items master himself. This alleged items master also acted as an information teller, maybe as some kind of extra bonus for having found him. But even if he was a game master, it was perceived that he wasn’t necessarily in agreement with the games at hand. Conflict among the game masters was heavily implied. And if this items master was secret, could it have been that even he couldn’t speak of an eighth member? Maybe a traitor? Akise had scribbled a possibility of there not being seven, but eight. Why? It had to do with the survivors of the female game. Nine had made it to the tower, but eight made it through. Was it that eight was the specific number, or was it solely the importance of every living player having good will when they approached?

The boy detective went on to theorize that each game master had a specified jurisdiction. Surely the one called Rodd would be in control of any time-related items, or game reset, or anything of the sort. The mystery items master would surely be in charge of the operation of the items pillars, by default. If that were the case, couldn’t there then be someone who controlled something like the dome that covers the game field? Someone who coordinated the groups and decided who went where? Someone who had brought all of them here in the first place – some kind of inter-dimensional traveler that had a sadistic sense of entertainment?

The situation of the ones running the game was not that there was one single overseer with incredible, incomprehensible power. Rather, it was a collection of masters each with one incredible power of their own. All together, they would be a terrifying force. But with conflict so heavily implied, what would become of them? What state were they in now – indeed, could game masters rebel? If they did, what would it look like? Theoretically, none of the game masters could work entirely alone. Their powers, however great, were too narrow. Too selective. Nevertheless, it left room for hope upon the approach of the game’s end.

More notes. Izaya was impressed by how insanely tiny Akise’s handwriting was.

Apparently Rika had approached Akise about something that new-player-L said. Rika-chan seems to be suspicious of me, he wrote. Suspicion is noted and understood. Am I suspicious? Perhaps I should call myself into question. More later.

Izaya felt his mouth twitch. What was that about, he wondered? Could it have been the rumor that he and A-ya had spread via Hanyuu? Or had she already been suspicious? Either way, the rumor would have fed such a suspicion. The information broker felt a dim sense of hollow satisfaction.

Deciding not to think too much on it now, he’d turned the page to the section about ‘the unspoken rule.’ The principle behind it was that if anyone were to come to some kind of epiphany of truth, then they were fated to perish immediately afterwards. As a seeker of truth, this worries me, he wrote, but I can only keep going. Then again, of course it could be that this fate only befell such a person if they said their epiphany aloud. This was implied in the way L Lawliet had died, and also in the way Rika refused to speak exactly what he’d said. Needless to say, she was still around, and L wasn’t.

But if this rule were fact, then wouldn’t that mean that a game master, or multiple game masters, could shift the fates of players in-game? Even on a life-or-death level? L had been killed by Yato, meaning that some master(s) had influenced Yato’s actions at the time into killing L the moment he came to his revelation. That would be a worrisome power indeed.

Under that pretense, Akise speculated that perhaps the masters also had a hand in the dark paths that certain people were walking down – specifically the ones that were so close to uniting the players and ending the game. His scribbled examples included Izaya, led astray by his intrigue in A-ya… as well as, of course, the dark-clad hero himself. A-ya had once been adamant about how the game was fake and how everyone needed to rebel against the given rules. What had happened, then? He’d been led by temptation into the arms of a demon that was supposed to have perished earlier in-game. It was also worth noting that A-ya had met with the items master previously mentioned.

Yukiteru and Celty had also both met with this items master. Akise noted that he needed to watch over Yukiteru and ensure he didn’t go astray. Celty, he felt, was currently in a good place.

Izaya glared down at such musings, biting his lip. Celty-san was hiding that kind of thing, huh? Not that it matters now. And not that I’d tell me either, if I were her.

He was getting to the notes on the control center when he’d heard muted voices beyond the glass. His only thought was that he needed to get out of the line of sight, and quick. Quiet. He didn’t need to be found by anyone right now, no, he was still weak, and there was no telling—

He’d gone for the door of the manager’s office, then, and was slipping in the entrance when all of the front windows shattered. Immediately he backed into the corner, leaving the light off – thank god it wasn’t a motion sensor. Through the crack in the door he had left, he watched the scene through a narrow screen. Izaya had to at least allow himself mild surprise that it was Shintaro who had wielded the machine gun against him.

We return to the present. Izaya’s breathing was still uneasy, but he couldn’t see nor hear either Seidou or Shintaro anymore. He wasn’t all too sure how long he stood there, stock-still. After this long while, he at last breathed a sigh. “Lucky.” He quirked an eyebrow at himself, running a hand through his hair. “Jeez…”

He heard the crackling of broken glass being trod upon outside the door, and immediately he stiffened. He became distinctly aware of the feel of the wall at his back, and to the rhythm of his own heart. His hand tightened around the hilt of the Prophet.

The slow, steady footsteps seemed to draw closer before they ceased altogether. Izaya’s eyes narrowed in the dark, preparing himself. I’ve made it this far; I’m not dying now… Hah, how funny would that be?

The door swung outward on its hinges, and Izaya’s eyes immediately locked onto the dark cloak of the one standing in the doorframe, their silhouette backlit with the daylight outside. But looking into his face, Izaya blinked, drawing his mouth into a smirk that felt more like a grimace than anything else. “Yukiteru-kun?”

Yukki looked at him with eyes that absorbed the light reflecting off of Izaya’s pale face. They seemed to almost glow softly in the dark of the room. “How…” he spoke slowly, his tone frighteningly cold, “…do you know my name?”


“Rika Furude, then, huh?” Hide beamed, and the ten-year-old nodded as she lifted her arms up, perpendicular to the ground. Her shirt was off; Kaneki had already stitched up her chest. Nobody looked. He was bandaging her now. “I’m Hideyoshi Nagachika! But you can call me Hide, alright?”

“Hide,” she agreed, smiling happily.

Kaneki listened intently to them talking as he tied off her bandages. He put a hand to her shoulder to let her know that she was alright to put her shirt back on, then went over to properly set Shirou’s leg, which had been broken. Rin sat next to him on the edge of the same bed, her arms and legs both crossed. Though she was acting with her usual sass, her skin was pallid, and she was far more quiet than normal. Her stomach had been bandaged first thing, and she’d put her turtleneck back on immediately after the white strip had been tied off. Kaneki had tried to tend to Rika first, but the kid had insisted that Rin go before her.

Konoha was spacey as always, and Rika seemed to be judging the situation quietly herself… or perhaps she was just masking the pain of that injury of hers. It was Hide that started up light conversation, and everyone seemed silently grateful for it.

“We should all introduce ourselves, I think,” Hide suggested. “C’mon, guys.”

“Shirou Emiya,” the redhead smiled weakly. “Pleasure to meet you—ah—” He grimaced as Kaneki put his leg back into place.

“Rin Tohsaka,” Rin said, quiet and taut.

“Ken Kaneki,” said the half-ghoul, pulling a cast from the medical bag. “Welcome,” he said warmly, pausing just to nod his head to her.

“And I am Konoha,” said the android.

“I am happy to meet all of you, that is so,” she said brightly, clapping her hands. “I am sure that all together, we will be alright.”

Kaneki touched his chin. “I agree.”

“Rika-chan, if I may, how old are you?” Shirou asked, blinking wide golden eyes.

“I am ten,” she said matter-of-factly.

Ten years old?” Shirou rubbed at the back of his head, his brow furrowed. “What are the masters thinking, involving someone so young?”

“Hmph,” said Rin.

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much,” grinned Hide, patting Rika on the back. “I mean, c’mon! This kid probably made it through the female game, too, and here she is, still here!” He ruffled her hair, and she looked up at him blankly. “That’s nothing to sneeze at, you know?” Rubbing at the bottom of his nose, he laughed a bit. “Maybe she’s stronger than you, Kaneki.”

“Huh?”

Hide busted up laughing at Kaneki’s expression. “I’m kidding; I’m kidding! You’ve, like, got serious abs now.”

Kaneki blinked, lost for words.

“And anyway, you don’t need to worry too much, alright, Rika-chan? We’re all nice people here, so we’ll all make sure to protect you, okay?”

Kaneki nodded. “I will see to it that you are kept safe.”

Rika’s violet eyes darkened at Hide and Kaneki’s reassurances. “That’s not what I want from you.”

“Mm?” Hide blinked down at her as she folded her hands together tightly, beginning to tremble.

“I’m tired of that.”

They all looked at her. None of them had anything to say. Then, Shirou: “How about this? We’ll protect you while we continue to protect each other. Okay? How’s that?”

“Yeah,” Hide grinned his lopsided smile. “We’re not planning on getting hurt, either. We’ve got super-beefed-up people like ‘Neki and Konoha, so it’ll turn out.”

She didn’t respond at first, but eventually offered a soft, “Thank you.”

“Shinichi was pretty strong,” uttered Rin, and Shirou frowned at her.

“Tohsaka-chan…” His eyes reflected his regret.

“Maybe we should refrain—” began Kaneki, but she interjected, “It wasn’t fair. The way he died wasn’t fair.”

“I don’t think,” said Konoha, “that this game is ‘fair.’”

“That hole in his chest,” Rika came in, “…was never mended.”

They all looked at her. A solemn quiet settled.

“He never cried,” commented Rin, her tone matching this silence.

“No, Rin-chan…” Hide closed his eyes, smiling sadly. “Didn’t you hear him? He was crying out that whole time. Right inside his chest.”

 

Chapter 87: Informant

Chapter Text

 

Oh boy… No response jumped to the tongue of Izaya Orihara. Instead, he found himself laughing, breathy and edging towards hysterics.

“Well?” Yukiteru’s eyes narrowed, just slightly. “Answer me—how do you know my name?”

“The light,” he said. “Turn on the light.”

When Yukki flipped the switch, his expression was one of confused cynicism. “Why?”

“It really is Yukiteru-kun, after all. My, my, you look so different – the look in your eyes really has changed. Scary.”

Yukiteru tilted his head and, beginning to smile, cocked his machine gun. Somehow his eyes were dark even under the fluorescents.

Izaya raised his hands into the air. Keep it together; there’s no reason to worry. “I don’t want to fight you. You really don’t know who I am, do you, Yukiteru-kun?”

“I really don’t,” he said. He sounded eerily friendly. “But it’s okay, because I’d like to know who you are before I kill you.”

“Talk about twisted,” he sighed, his eyes wandering. “Jeez… Not very nice of you to just go forgetting somebody.”

Yukiteru faltered. “Come to think of it…” He lowered his gun, looking up to the ceiling. “Mm, you do look familiar, after all.”

“Really,” Izaya raised his eyebrows at him.

“Mm,” Yukiteru nodded. “But…” He scratched at his temple. “No, you’re not who I’m thinking of. His jacket had red trim. Who was it – ‘Roppi’?”

Izaya’s expression was one of deadpan finished-ness.

“No, I guess I don’t know you after all. Huh. You weren’t even in the intro at the beginning, were you?”

“You’re kidding me,” he said, closing his eyes.

“Are you a new player, then?”

No. I’m—”

Yukiteru pointed the gun at him with a smile. Izaya froze. Took pause. Forced himself to relax, his mouth twitching. “Really…” This is okay. You can make something of this. “Anyway, I meant it when I said I didn’t want to fight you.”

“It’s okay, I don’t need to fight. I can just kill you, and that’ll be that.”

He sure has had a drastic shift, hasn’t he? He locked eyes with the younger. He listened to his own heartbeat in his ears. Come on, this is exciting. This is interesting. This is fun.

Jeez, I feel sick.

“This is why you kids scare the crap outta me,” he sighed, lowering his arms. Yukiteru widened his stance in response. “It’s so easy for you to change.” A dry smile twisted his mouth. “Keeps me on my toes. I like that, too.”

“Do you?”

“I do.” He wrapped one of his arms over his stomach again. “It keeps things interesting.”

Yukiteru peered at him with wide eyes, cocking his head to the side. “You sure don’t look like you believe that.”

“Oh, no, I was just thinking about how close you are to shooting me to death. That, that I don’t like.”

“I can believe that much, coming from you.”

“What’s this, ‘coming from me’… As if you know what to expect.” He chuckled mirthlessly. “You’ve just met me, remember?”

“But I don’t trust you at all,” Yukiteru answered brightly. “You’re probably one of the shadiest people I’ve met in this game.”

“Oh, thanks…” He paused. “Well, I have to give you credit – your judgment is pretty sound this time around. To be honest, I’m a lying bastard!” Such a statement sent Izaya into another fit of laughter.

Yukiteru’s eyes narrowed. “Then I guess it’s a good thing I’m going to kill you, now.”

Izaya stopped laughing.

Yukiteru pointed the gun at him again, smiling sweetly. “Goodbye.”

“Wai—” He tried to dodge, unsheathing the Prophet as fast as he could manage even though he knew full well that he wouldn’t, couldn’t be faster than a machine gun. The thing got him in the leg before he found himself on the ground, crying out, “Wait a second!” and then grimacing at the desperation in his own voice. Pathetic.

Yukiteru paused.

“You said you wanted to know who I was before you killed me, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, and you said you were a lying bastard. That’s enough for me.”

Izaya winced. His insides were writhing. This was not the way that Izaya Orihara would die – But who is Izaya Orihara, anyway? I shouldn’t be so easily flustered like this. Izaya Orihara would never be baffled by something so ridiculous

Hold on. You don’t have your face back, but that doesn’t mean you forgot how to play your own game. This is Yukiteru you’re talking to. If anything’s for sure, this kid’s still a human being. For god’s sake, snap out of it, you—

Yukiteru was impassive when Izaya started to laugh again, bringing a hand over his eyes. “Yukiteru-kun… Just… wait a second. How about this? We both lay down our weapons, and we talk for a few minutes. Can you permit me that much? Maybe I can get a few passionate last lines out?”

The fourteen-year-old considered this for a few seconds, then laid his machine gun on the floor. Izaya blinked at him, surprised. As Yukiteru sat opposite the information broker, cross-legged on the ground, Izaya sat up and set the Prophet beside the machine gun.

“I’m a little surprised,” grinned Izaya. “The way you were playing that out, I almost thought you wouldn’t listen to reason.”

“Oh, I have my reasons,” Yukiteru smiled brightly in turn. “If I need to, I can keep you as still as I need you to be.” He tilted his head adorably. “You’re just a human. I could kill you without even having to get up.”

Izaya frowned at him. Yukiteru was quick to notice that none of Izaya’s smiles lasted longer than a few moments. “Say…” He lifted his palms to the ceiling. “If you let me live at the end of this, how about I show you where an items pillar is? To show you that you can trust me?”

“I already know I can’t trust you.”

“Even if there really were an items pillar?”

Yukiteru thought about it. “I mean…”

“If you were to let me lead you there, there wouldn’t be much I could do to hurt you, you know. I’m not sure whether you noticed, Yukiteru-kun, but I’m pretty beaten up as it is, you see…”

“You never told me,” Yukki cut in. “How do you know my name?”

“Well…” His eyes wandered. This is fine. This doesn’t have to be a curse. Make into an advantage. “…Even though you don’t know me, I know you.”

“But how?”

Izaya took note of the suspicion in his tone. “Well.” His dry smile touched his lips. “Because I’m an informant.”

“That’s not an answer,” Yukki frowned.

“Sure it is,” he shrugged. “That’s what I did for a living, anyway, before these games. I was an underground information broker. I can prove to you that I know everything – call it my special ability, here.”

“You can prove…?”

“Of course. Why else would I know so much about you? Let’s see… Weren’t you part of a battle royale yourself, back home? One with things called ‘Future Diaries’?”

Yukiteru’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not all too hard to figure out.”

“Would I know the name Yuno Gasai?”

The kid stiffened.

“Hah. From what I understand, you and her had a rather complicated relationship. Even though she did such terrible things, you still miss her, even now—”

“You’re wrong,” Yukki said flatly.

Izaya looked at him with what he hoped looked like curiosity. Why rub salt in the wound now? Terrible tact, he thought disapprovingly to himself.

“I don’t need anyone like her…” He brought his hands together in his lap, one hand squeezing the other with white knuckles. They were trembling. “I don’t need anyone else. I’m not like that. Not anymore.”

Izaya raised his eyebrows. “No one else at all?”

“No.”

Izaya stared at him, dead-faced, for some time, his eyes scanning the body language of the cloaked one sitting across from him. Yukiteru’s head was bowed; he wasn’t looking at him. They sat in silence. Eventually, Izaya sighed. “I guess it’s true that you’re not here with anyone else. But you were alone all along, weren’t you?” He felt his mouth twinge just slightly. Why did he say that?

Yukiteru didn’t look up. “That’s fine,” he said hollowly. “It’s fine that I was always alone. Because… now I know that I don’t need anyone at all anyway.”

Izaya shifted to a more casual position, his eyes narrowing. “Not even A-ya?”

Yukki froze. His hands stopped trembling. He seemed to even stop breathing. His hands parted. He rested them, palms down, on the floor. He still did not look up. “If I have to kill A-ya in order to end this route, I will,” he said without inflection.

There was more silence. Yukiteru still didn’t look up into Izaya’s prying gaze. Eventually, the informant looked away, clicking his tongue. “Who are you kidding?” he asked bitterly.

Only now did Yukki look at him.

“Do you really think you can lay a hand on him? You can’t. You won’t. Just like you probably wouldn’t be able to kill Yuno.”

“You don’t know me,” he answered, traces of uncertainty lying in his tone.

“Sure I do. I know that you can’t kill A-ya.”

“It’s fine, because I know that afterwards, we can be together again.”

“Even if you convince yourself of such a mentality, can you really go through with something like that?”

“I just killed Shinichi Izumi,” Yukiteru informed him flatly.

Izaya stared at him, then let out a low whistle. “Harsh. But still different than—”

Don’t underestimate me,” he said lowly.

“I’m not underestimating you, Yukiteru-kun—don’t get me wrong! I think it’s you who’s underestimating your own humanity.”

Yukiteru deflated, his anger dissipating.

“A-ya-kun’s a different deal, now. After he got possessed by Kuroha, he’s been slowly consumed ever since then. Before we know it, he’ll just be a monster, nothing more.”

“Don’t—say that… A-ya isn’t…”

“Yukiteru-kun.”

They looked at one another in silence. Izaya leaned in; Yukiteru was rigid.

“You can’t know how bad it’s gotten, can you? Couldn’t that be precisely why he separated from you in the first place?”

“But when I saw him last, he still…” Yukiteru trailed off. Hesitated. “It’s fine, because now both of us want the same thing.”

“Reset?” Izaya inquired coolly.

“And what if it is?”

“You can’t deny it means I do know quite a lot,” he answered wryly.

“That’s fair…”

Izaya crossed his arms over his chest. “Rika-chan knew about past outcomes of this game, herself. It wouldn’t be the first time, Yukiteru-kun.”

“I know that already,” Yukki frowned.

“Hoh? She tell you that?” The cloaked one narrowed his blue eyes as Izaya laughed that mirthless laugh again. “Well then, maybe this rumor will suit you better: while A-ya-kun has been possessed by a demon, Rika-chan is the vessel to a goddess named Hanyuu.”

Izaya watched the whites of Yukiteru’s eyes grow. “Hanyuu?” he repeated.

“A-ya-kun knew it, too. It was Rika-chan who figured it out about the demon, of course, which is why she went after Roy that night. Do you remember?”

Yukiteru couldn’t answer him.

“She tried to save Roy, but failed. Roy died that night – you know that already. That’s when we…” Izaya stopped. His expression darkened.

“Rika was the one who told the others that A-ya was possessed, right?” Yukki asked.

Izaya looked at him without expression. Seemed that he was already assuming that he knew everything, after all. Better keep up appearances. “She was,” he sighed. “She told Minene, who told Akise. By then it was too late, anyway, seeing as A-ya had already decided to split off.”

“And Twelve and Suzuya left with him…”

“Yes, Twelve and Suzuya left with him.” Izaya paused. “Both of them are dead,” he added as a dark afterthought.

“They…?” His blue eyes filled with something akin to fear. “It wasn’t A-ya, was it?”

“Not necessarily,” Izaya answered distractedly.

“Then…?”

“The Yato god.”

“Yato…” Yukiteru’s hands clenched into shaking fists. “Not A-ya at all—Yato. Why should I have expected anything but Yato?”

“Ah, that’s right… Isn’t he the one that killed Celty-san and Minene, too?”

“He…” He drew his knees up to his chest, his body tensing. “Yeah, and wasn’t it Yato, too, who killed L? Wasn’t that the very fight that A-ya—” Eyes flashing, he looked to Izaya with tainted determination. “If it weren’t for Yato, A-ya wouldn’t even be possessed, would he? Even that was Yato’s fault! None of this would ever have been a problem—if…”

“I may have a bone to pick with Yato, myself,” Izaya admitted, his gaze averted.

“And Yato is the one who can best kill A-ya,” Yukiteru said breathlessly. “So he and I both…”

Izaya frowned at the fourteen-year-old across from him. “You’re still making the argument that A-ya isn’t wrong… yet you’re struggling to justify his actions? Shifting the blame to somebody else, just because the detail of a demon isn’t fitting your perfect picture?”

“I’m not saying he’s perfect,” he snapped. “I know that the demon… isn’t a good thing. I know that.”

“Couldn’t it be possible for that demon to lead A-ya in the wrong direction?”

“I mean—”

“Let me rephrase this: why are you following him down the same path? Hah? When you know it isn’t the right one?”

Yukiteru faltered only momentarily. “You don’t know A-ya. He knows what he’s doing. He does. He chose to accept that demon—yeah, that’s right, because if A-ya were to get possessed, he’d make the demon his pet, of course! That’s how A-ya is!”

“Then why are you so angry with Yato?”

Yukiteru blinked. Izaya stared back at him through narrowed, piercing eyes. “Oh… You’re right.”

Izaya frowned deeper. There we go. Much better.

“I should be thanking him, shouldn’t I?” the kid asked, and laughed happily, an off note to his mirth.

Izaya slumped, bringing a hand to his head. “How dense can you be, kid?”

“No, think about it! A-ya always strained to find an answer to this game. Yato pushed him to find Kuroha, and that’s how he’s lasted as long as he has. He finally had his epiphany at that point – that if this game were to end, we would end.” Yukiteru spread his arms happily. “Even if he were wrong and all of us were to go home, we, together, would end! He would return to his reality of repeating tragedy, and I’d go back to mine. We’d never see one another again! He had to part from me because I didn’t understand yet, of course, and I would have tried to stop him. But now I do understand, and so…” He beamed at the informant. “I’ve got to thank Yato, that’s right. Because the best way to get where we want to be is to keep thinning out the players, see? Yato’s doing the exact same thing! That’s why Minene and Celty-san and Twelve and Suzuya are all dead, right? None of them would have gotten it, right?”

Izaya could only stare in muted interest. “Amazing.” What a skewed perspective; what a show…

“And that’s why Akise betrayed us, too! That’s why he went with Yato, right? Because surely, surely he understood exactly what the truth was!”

“Wait… Akise—?”

“So really, the best way to thank Yato is by killing him, right?” Closing his eyes joyously, he tilted his head at Izaya. “Because that’s what he’s so graciously given us: just the carnage we need! That’s the point of all this, isn’t it? It’s the only way to take us to the end of this game, right? Right?”

“Wrong.” Izaya, closing his eyes, got slowly to his feet, hand pressed to his now-injured leg. He looked down at Yukiteru with cold eyes, and he stared back bemusedly. “This game is fake. The point of this game has never been to kill everyone else – that’s just what the game masters want you to think. You and A-ya and Yato—all of you have just fallen into the very trap that they’ve set out. Because it’s they who never want the game to end. You should know that the game masters who disagree with the game don’t take kindly to the thought of reset. Do they?” He pointed accusingly at the kid, who sat still as stone in shock. Izaya felt something like hot coals build in his chest, and was curious to find he still felt frozen. “You’ve had every opportunity to turn this all around.” He noted that his voice was thick with icy acid. “So why haven’t you? Hah?”

“I…?” Yukiteru found his argument to sound uncannily similar to the one A-ya had once made.

“You’re a pathetic excuse of a—” Izaya paused, then snickered, lowering his hand. “No, no, you’re the perfect picture of a human being. But as for a friend—my, my… You’re spouting nothing but nonsense in regards to your so-called friend A-ya. You want to be there for him? Do you really think that following him into Hell is the answer? Oh, how classically romantic! Two friends drowning together in the tides of their own tragedy! No. If you want to help A-ya, you snap him out of it already—get him out of there before the high tide comes—maybe it’s already too late! If that’s the case, you should just put him out of his misery. How’s that for a shocker?” His glare only grew more concentrated, a stare through slitted eyes. “You’ve done nothing for him. In the end, you’re just relying on him, even now. What do you expect him to do for you, at this point? Hah… You can’t say you haven’t been in a dependent relationship before. You came in here saying you didn’t need anyone, when really you’re more desperate than ever! Disgusting.”

Yukiteru closed his mouth, eyes wide. “Wh…” He built himself up again, shaking his head. “What do you know?”

Izaya’s mouth twisted. “Hah… You’re right. I don’t have experience in the realm of ‘friends.’ It’s safe to say that I don’t know anything at all.” He took a step towards the weapons, devoid of expression once more. “On that note, you can kill me now if you really want to. In retrospect, even if you were to kill me, it’s not like it would matter, would it? No one would know. No one would care.”

“Do you want to die?”

He lifted the Prophet with a frown. “No. To be honest, I’d rather not. But if you kill me, that just goes to show which way you’re going from here. Isn’t that so? And then I’ll carry this knowledge with me to the grave. Even then, maybe I’ll come back next time. Seeing as we’ll probably reset and all.”

As he sheathed his sword, he went still as Yukiteru grabbed for his machine gun. “A-ya…,” he said, and Izaya blinked his eyes at him, lids wide open.

“Mm?”

“He said the same thing, once upon a time.” Yukiteru followed after him, getting to his bare feet with the machine gun cradled in his arms. “That the game was fake, and that the whole ‘battle royale’ deal was a lie, too. I don’t know what to think, yet, exactly… but I know that that used to be what A-ya believed in. So… I’ll wait a little bit longer.” He frowned back at Izaya, tone both firm and cautious. “It’s not like I trust you just yet, but—I haven’t killed you, either. Are you gonna keep to what you said?”

Izaya furrowed his brow for a moment, then smiled thinly. “The items pillar, hah? Oh, sure… Come on, then.”

“There’d better actually be one, or you’re dead.”

“I know, I know. Show me a little bit of faith, Yukiteru-kun.”

“And why should I? You never even said who you are.”

“Oh, I didn’t, did I?” Slowly, Izaya headed for the door, wary of where Yukiteru was pointing the gun. Limping, he made his way through the shattered glass and out the front doors, also broken. “What brought you here, anyway? The noise?”

“Yeah.” Yukiteru trotted after him with a gravely serious expression. “I heard gunshots and glass shattering, but when I got here, nobody was fighting. I heard you in the office, and so I found you.”

My question is where you kids keep getting machine guns,” Izaya sighed. “Shintaro Kisaragi was the one who shot at me, I think. What are you all doing? Really. Everyone’s changing so drastically after I turn my back for just a moment. Everyone wants to shoot me, apparently.”

“Who are you? You still haven’t said that.”

“Does it really matter?”

“I mean, I guess not. I could call you Liar.”

“Oh, please don’t,” he winced. “The demon calls me that.”

“That doesn’t sound very promising.”

“Yes, well, demons are deceivers themselves, so take it with a grain of salt.”

“I guess so…” Yukiteru sped up the pace to walk beside him. “So, wait—”

“If you want to be threatening, stay behind me,” Izaya interrupted him, cocking an eyebrow. “It’s easier for me to just up and slash you this way, and harder for you to catch me off-guard.”

Yukki frowned. “I was gonna ask how far away the items pillar was.”

“Ah, just down the street here.”

“How far down the street?” he asked suspiciously.

“This building here.”

“Mm…” Izaya opened the door for him and everything, gesturing inside to the softly glowing pillar awaiting him. Yukiteru blinked. “So there really is a pillar here!”

“You were doubting me that much?”

“Yeah, I really was,” Yukiteru remarked, walking in. Frowning slightly, Izaya followed behind him. “Say, if I don’t know your name, what do I call you?”

“Oh, I suppose it’s fine. My name’s Izaya Orihara. Pleasure to meet you, Yukki,” he said drily. “Is it alright if I call you that? ‘Yukki’?”

“I… guess so. Is Izaya fine?”

“Oh, of course; of course.”

“Then hey… Izaya.”

“Mm?”

“If you’re right, and A-ya’s just caught in a trap, then Yato’s also wrong, right?”

“That’s right.” Izaya’s brow furrowed.

Yukiteru deflated. “That means, then, that Akise-kun really did betray me after all, huh?”

“Hah? How’s that, Yukki?” Izaya stuck his hands in his pockets, turning to face him properly. “I am curious. What happened to Akise-kun? He isn’t dead, is he?”

“He went with Yato, I think.”

“With Yato?” Izaya’s brow furrowed further. “When he killed Twelve and took out Suzu-chan, Yato was only with Nora.”

“Was he?”

“I can’t imagine that Akise would have followed after Yato.”

“But he was the one that decided to take in Yato when he collapsed – Nora wasn’t around, see, and our group took good care of him because we thought maybe we could help him stop hurting… We did that because Akise suggested it. But Rika tried to warn me that Akise could be on Yato’s side, and then right after that… everyone died, and Akise and Yato were both gone… and…”

Izaya drew his lips into a thin line, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Is that so?” Ah, I pulled that one, didn’t I? Whoops. “That was a rumor that A-ya had spread through the goddess Hanyuu. Rika-chan had sent the goddess after A-ya’s group to watch over them, and A-ya told her about Akise being so suspicious – I’m not sure, maybe he was jealous.” He shrugged.

“A-ya…,” Yukki repeated. “Rika… Hanyuu… And then… Akise?” He thought on this, remembering what A-ya had said – ‘If I kill Akise, you’ll understand how I feel then, right?’ or something like that. “But why wouldn’t Yato kill Akise?”

“Maybe he did,” Izaya suggested.

“Then where’s his body?”

“If Akise were alive, would he leave his notebook behind?”

“His…?” Yukiteru’s eyes widened as Izaya pulled the blue notebook from his jacket pocket. “It’s his—? Where did you—?”

“It was lying on the ground outside of that house,” Izaya answered, detached. He turned the tiny book over in his hand, then closed his eyes again and pocketed it once more. “I have a feeling he wouldn’t just leave it lying there. Do you think?”

“No… But then… where is he?”

“No clue.”

“You’re supposed to know everything, you said!”

“Eh, everyone has limitations… It’s not like I’m god.”

“That’s—!”

“It could be that he just disappeared,” he offered, and Yukiteru backed off a bit.

“Huh?”

“Think about it. Even if he didn’t betray you, he was still pretty suspicious. He just appeared in-game out of nowhere, didn’t have a group number…”

“Like you?”

Izaya’s mouth twitched. “Kind of.”

“But I thought Akise was the fourth member of Group 6,” Yukki said thoughtfully, and Izaya found himself frowning again.

“There was still a lot of mystery about him, wouldn’t you say? Almost as though he didn’t belong in-game?”

“Un, I guess so…”

“Then it wouldn’t be out of the question to assume that he was just taken out of the game’s equation when he died, right?”

“Then he’s dead?” Yukiteru blinked. “That’s horrible,” he commented, but he didn’t seem able to bring forth any concrete emotion. Perhaps he couldn’t process it.

“Probably. Sorry to break it to you.”

“It’s better than him working with Yato, I think.”

“That’s a good way to look at it.”

“Yeah… I guess I’ll get my item, then?” At the questioning tone, Izaya gestured to the pillar, backing up and leaning against the nearest wall.

“By all means.”

Yukiteru approached the module gently pulsating purple. He didn’t react when it activated, the silhouette spreading its arms in welcome as usual. “Congratulations, Yukiteru Amano! Naturally, the only selection you can make is your own.

“Quiet, Muse,” Yukiteru said flatly to the hologram, and the figure straightened. “That’s your name, isn’t it?”

Izaya’s eyes flickered in interest as he watched a black crescent smile spread in the static of the figure’s face. “I hope you enjoy,” they said, and disappeared as Yukki jabbed his index finger at his button.

Ah, thought Izaya, if A-ya had been able to select something here, Yukki wouldn’t be permitted to make a selection, would he? Lucky. After all, this was the pillar they’d used to save Twelve after he’d been eviscerated. Why had he been given the chance to live only to die so pointlessly? Izaya decided to think about it later.

With a flash of light, Yukiteru got his item, materialized in his open hand. Izaya peered at it from his place by the wall, what was that? A cellphone…

“My phone!” Yukki exclaimed, immediately setting his machine gun on the ground and flipping open the deep blue cellular device.

“What’s that about?” Izaya sighed. “I hate cellphones.” He approached anyway – Yukiteru’s eyes were shining with something Izaya thought might be similar to his own fixations. Since Yukki didn’t answer, Izaya looked over his shoulder to watch the tiny screen of the flip phone as Yukki frantically pressed buttons, looking through note files that were filled only with blanks.

It’s empty…,” he uttered lowly. Izaya, sensing the kid’s growing frustration, backed off, hands still in his pockets.

Uh-oh, he thought.

“Why is it empty? Why isn’t there anything—my diary—my journals, where are they?! The future—?” He flicked the phone shut angrily, raising it into the air. “What point is there giving me this if it isn’t going to TELL me anything?!” And he chucked it at the wall, falling into a crouching fetal position.

Izaya looked at his crouching figure, then at the cellphone on the floor. It hadn’t broken – good thing, he guessed. Sighing, he went to the discarded device and picked it up from the floor. “They’re probably just trying to mess with you,” he said in that detached way. “They like doing that.”

Yukki only curled tighter into himself.

Izaya just stood there for some time, tilting his head at the other. “Jeez,” he said eventually. “I don’t know what to tell you here. You really are helpless, aren’t you? To think, you rely on something like the ‘future.’ The future may feel assured, but it really isn’t. Only the past is real. No matter how distorted it can become through perception…”

“You just don’t understand,” Yukiteru uttered, and Izaya’s mouth downturned.

A ringing sound broke the tension, and they both turned to stare at the flickering front screen of Yukiteru’s cellphone. It quickly ended. “A message?” they asked in unison, and Yukiteru pounced forward, snatching the phone from Izaya’s hand.

“Hey, now—”

Eyes wide in anticipation, Yukiteru opened it, allowing Izaya to look over his shoulder again. The screen lit up with a small animation of a letter floating up and down: 1 New Message. Yukki’s thumb hovered over the confirmation button. “An unknown number?” He decidedly opened it, his eyes widening at the message it displayed. Izaya’s eyes narrowed, conversely. The message was short, but to-the-point.

It said only, [I’m still alive.]

 

Chapter 88: Shift

Chapter Text

 

A-ya sat, idle, atop a skyscraper, with his legs dangling over the ledge from beneath the railing. At his side, there was food that he’d gathered for himself – a collection of assorted fruit and chocolate candy. At present, he was eating a strawberry. “Do you think,” he said aloud, “that it was Yukiteru that downed the forest?”

It’s a possibility, the serpent answered. I can think of no one else that has the ability to do so.

“Mm, the only other one I can think of would be that other half-ghoul, and I don’t think they can do something like that.” He cast the leaves of his finished strawberry over the edge to drop however many stories to the streets below. “Which means that it was probably Yukiteru after all.” Hopelessly, he began to smile. “I can’t tell, do you think he was trying to kill me?”

I wouldn’t be able to give a proper answer, but from our current understanding of Observer, I can’t see him actually trying to kill you, kid.

“I wonder whether he acted alone or with the others.”

Somehow I’d have to presume he did that alone.

“Then was it that he really wanted to see me? It was just after I joined the fight—he probably saw the lightning, didn’t he? He’s still looking for me.”

Obviously. Besides, if I’m right, the others may be dead…

A-ya released a sudden bark of laughter. “Good!” he exclaimed, gripping the bars of the railing joyously. “Good, good, good!”

The serpent offered only a flicker of surprise.

“Do you think he’s angry, Saeru? Do you think he’s mad at me? Do you think? Or do you think he wants to be with me?”

Which is it you want, little Master?

“I’d be happiest either way!” He felt his broken wrist straining with how tightly he was gripping the railing, and as the pain shot down his arm, his grin widened. He envisioned a reunion where they could be at each other’s sides, yes, a picture of them forcing the return to the beginning; the creation of the next world! Their favorite color would be dyed as red as A-ya’s hands, and they would walk to the coda with their hands clasped together the whole way.

Conversely, Yukiteru’s judgment, the look of horror in his eyes, or the anger vibrating through the air with his hands around A-ya’s neck—

“Either way,” A-ya said breathily, his head resting on the bars in front of him and his face frozen in distorted bliss, “…it would be the best thing in the world.”

The serpent smiled. From here, all was going smoothly, wasn’t it? Amazingly, this little master was so beautifully receptive to his molding. He could strip Loner away to the bare bones of what he’d been, leaving only the thing called ‘love.’ That, the most powerful of human emotions, was the one and only thing he could not drown. All he could do was bring his black hands to it, taint it, distort it, twist it into something nearly unrecognizable.

“I’m gonna see Yukiteru again…” A-y closed his eyes, the top of his head still pressed the metal bars. “And we’ll be so, so red…” Like that night, right?

He’d never been closer to C-ta than when that boxcutter was so near to slipping between A-ya’s ribs. Never had he felt so vividly as when his scissors sank into C-ta’s flesh. Never had he felt such potent reality as when he drew the blades to his own throat—

“I can’t wait… to see him…” He was trembling with laughter he could barely contain. Ecstasy.

Something like concern bled from the serpent to the boy. Now… don’t tell me you want him to kill you.

“Hey, Saeru,” he said distractedly, “you’re looking forward to it, too, aren’t you? To seeing him? You’ve given me so much! And all I can give back is this fondness—tell me, how does it feel? Is it strange? Is it terrible? Wonderful? Surely you feel the same way, don’t you?”

As the boy laughed to the wind flooding the stillness, the serpent found he didn’t know how to answer at first. You and I, he said eventually, are one and the same. That’s why you don’t have to worry about misunderstandings.

“Then even while I wait to be at his side again, I’ll still have you!” And he laughed wildly to the open air beyond them, legs outspread into empty space. “I’ll never be lonely again! Never again!”

A warmth settled over A-ya; a comfortable sense of darkness. That’s right, little Master. Never again.

Tittering to himself, A-ya lifted a morsel of chocolate and popped it into his mouth. “None of this would have happened if you hadn’t come to me,” he commented.

I was only called by your powerful wish, of course. That was your own longing.

“Still, thank you.”

How odd, for a human to thank him for tragedy. This chocolate is quite pleasant, he uttered mentally in return. A-ya only laughed again, indulging in a few more pieces.

Somewhere apart from them, Yato slowly, painfully put his bloodstained not-white-anymore shirt back on. Nora crouched in front of him, her eyes wide and filled with jaded childishness. She tended to his wounds as best she could already, but he hadn’t spoken a word to her despite her soft prodding.

She brought her hands to her cheeks, smiling warmly. Knowingly. “You sure are being quiet, Yato,” she said.

“If it weren’t for the demon’s vessel, I’d be dead right now,” he answered bitterly.

“Does that bother you?”

“That kid is the vessel to a demon… I don’t want to be saved by the likes of him.”

“What does it matter?” She tilted her head. “All that matters is that you made it out.”

“But for how much longer?” he uttered, zipping up his tracksuit jacket only halfway, sighing, and then leaning back on the palms of his hands.

Nora put her own hand on one of his, noticing that his eyes had a glassy sheen. “We’ll make it out of here. We’ll return to Father. And we’ll be a family again.”

“A family,” he repeated distantly, staring at the ceiling.

“Something is still nagging at you. Is it more than the vessel?”

Closing his eyes, Yato pulled his hand from hers and laid down on the ground, there, rolling over so his back was to her. “What was Yukki thinking?”

“Yukki…?” She blinked, bemused. At first she though he was speaking of that rotten blond boy Yukine, but that wasn’t right. He was gone now. Then her eyes narrowed, expression darkening. “Ah, one of the children of that group you slaughtered last? You did leave the two who weren’t around, didn’t you?”

“No reason to track them down,” he uttered. “Perfect time to target Izaya’s group. A-ya was gone.”

“Don’t tell me that boy softened you again.”

“No. It’s not that,” he said flatly.

“Well then…” Yato felt her arms coming around him from behind as she embraced him, kneeling and bending to do so. She was careful not to put too much pressure on his injured body, nestling herself comfortably aside him. “…we’ll just have to kill him, won’t we?”

Yato didn’t answer.

“He’s just another player that we need to get rid of.”

“He’s also bound to face off with A-ya sooner or later.”

“Do you think one will really get rid of the other?”

“I don’t know.” He curled into himself just slightly.

A frown touched her lips, her eyes still dark. “Hm…” She released him, sitting up with her legs furled beneath her. “For now, all we can do is find out. We can only hope that the vessel kills this child ‘Yukki.’ After all, there’s no doubt he’ll want to kill you after what you did to his group. Isn’t that true, Yato? You know that, right?”

“I know.” His voice was tight.

“Then you’d better hope he dies before he finds you,” she said simply. He didn’t answer. “That, certainly…” – she began to smile again – “…would be a blessing, wouldn’t it, Yato?”

“I’m going to sleep,” he said.

“Alright.” She got to her feet, putting a hand gently to his shoulder. “You need to get better. I’ll be waiting for you when you awaken.”

“Mm.” He listened to the soft clacking of her wooden sandals against the linoleum floor. His eyes remained open even as she left the room. I wonder… he thought vaguely, …what path he’s taken. Sighing, stared at the empty wall in front of him.


“You know, you’re walking too fast,” Shintaro frowned, struggling to keep up to pace with the half-ghoul that was by now pretty far ahead of him.

Seidou, frowning bitterly, turned to look behind him. “Fuckin’ shut-in,” he growled, and sped back to where Shintaro was, scooping him up and slinging him over his shoulder. At this point, Shintaro had stopped protesting whenever this happened. The harrowed one noticed that after he’d been picked up, Seidou had sped the pace even further. For some time, neither of them spoke, only moved. It had been maybe an hour since they set out, but now that Seidou was practically running, Shintaro watched as the city thinned. The half-ghoul paused for a moment, standing upon a dirt road.

Finally, Shintaro asked: “Where, exactly, are you taking me now? When I said west, I didn’t mean this far west.”

“I never said I was listening to you,” he muttered in answer. “Dumbass.”

“Right,” Shintaro sighed. “So, that didn’t answer my question.”

“Do you care?”

The harrowed one thought about this. “I guess I don’t.”

“I thought not. Quiet, then.”

Sighing again, he complied, feeling the movement as Seidou continued yet further. Closing his empty grey eyes, he let the world move apart from them. He was lulled into a void. He wished for non-existence. Something that could not be, but at least for now, it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling.

Well, he guessed he could do without Seidou’s shoulder digging into his diaphragm.

His eyes opened when they came to an abrupt halt. Below him, he saw patches of upturned grass and dirt. Before he could respond to the land, he found himself being cast to the ground by his captor. He landed hard on his already-bruised tailbone and winced. “Was that really necessary?” he asked dully.

“Are you really necessary?” Seidou snipped right back at him, and Shintaro seemed to concede his point. The NEET found his own acid spat back at him. He supposed it was fair.

Now then, where were they? Shintaro looked at his surroundings as he got to his feet. Seidou had placed the machine gun off out of Shintaro’s reach – they were in a familiar open field, the ground torn into something no longer level. Seidou, frowning, pointed to what was apparently the most important piece of this puzzle: laid out were the bodies of Tsuki, of Psyche, of Shizuo and of Yukine.

Something did begin to stir in him – Seidou watched as Shintaro’s grey irises trembled. He looked at them fleetingly, scanning over the dead as if looking for a shorter time would spare him from having this re-ingrained into his photographic memory. He could not look at Tsuki. Yukine—his eyes were open, glazed and peering at him. He caught his dead gaze and froze; why hadn’t anyone closed his lids? Shintaro’s eyes flickered crimson before he looked away again, bringing a hand to his head uncomfortably.

“Why are we here, exactly?” Shintaro uttered, unconsciously backing up from the line of bodies. “We need to leave…”

“You don’t feel anything, right? That’s the problem, right? Hey, catch.”

The harrowed one looked up just in time to catch what Seidou had tossed at him. He was surprised by how heavy it was—what was it, exactly? He looked down into slumbering face of Psyche, oh dear god, he was holding onto his decapitated head, and…

“Ya wanna play ball? Kickball, maybe? Dodgeball?”

“I’m not very sport-oriented…,” Shintaro mumbled through numb lips. He couldn’t tear his eyes from the head in his hands. His dull pink headphones had a pink chord hanging off that ended too soon. Though there was a thin line of blood down his pale chin, one could pretend it was just the face of someone sleeping – just don’t look at the neck, crushed into a red mess as if it were a twisted cola can. Shintaro imagined the eyes opening into empty sockets of static, black-and-white tears flowing silently as the lips parted and released a wail of off-tune white noise.

A dim ringing in Shintaro’s head grew to a pronounced thrum that invaded his eardrums like the terrible scream of an old glass-screened television. He couldn’t feel it, but Psyche’s head slipped from his fingers and to the soft earth at his feet. He was trembling down to the marrow of his bones. He felt his veins flooding with something buzzing, terrible and acidic.

“Aa? You feeling something? Hah?” Surely, Seidou thought with a terrible grin, this reality will snap him out of it! His single eye narrowed in satisfaction as Shintaro staggered backwards and collapsed.

Why…

“Hm?”

He stared up at Seidou with wide, quivering eyes. “Why was I gifted with something so terrible?” he asked, and Seidou tilted his head to the side. “Why me? I don’t understand—what am I supposed to do with these memories, Seidou? Huh?”

“That’s right, go ahead and feel exactly how regretful you are.” Seidou’s smile faltered when Shintaro curled forward, hands gripping tightly at his raven hair.

“Why would I want to see tragedy, again and again and again and—I don’t—want to just see tragedy, you know? You know? I hate—I hate being the last one standing. Everyone else went and left me, didn’t they? Every time. Survivor’s guilt? Don’t make me laugh—it’s a survivor’s curse. I don’t want to live… I should be dead by now… Is it my fate to live and suffer? Everyone else… is so—selfish, leaving me here like this…

“Eh—”

Don’t say a word,” Shintaro uttered, low and cold. “I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to. You’re annoying. Just go away if you’re not going to kill me. I can’t—” He curled tighter into himself, covering his ears and closing his eyes. “It’s too bright—get me out of here—I need—I need to—”

Seidou stared at him, stiff. Did it work?

Shintaro was paralyzed in an internal ocean of static. He couldn’t breathe, nor see, nor hear. Something inside was threatening to splice his heart into two. Why couldn’t it? End him here! “Disappear,” he uttered, feeling himself fracturing into pieces that couldn’t reconnect. It’s so cold… I hate it… I hate this… I need to leave, need to find somewhere dark, it’s too light, too bright, too—

They were all around him, the bodies were looking at him and so was Seidou—shut it out, shut it down, make it go away, make it stop—

“Kill me,” he whispered. “Please.

“Oi,” Seidou frowned, uncertain. “Now what’s your problem?”

I’d rather go to sleep, and dream, and see her, see her again, she’ll be there, and we’ll be so… “…Happy…” This world, this terrible world, this shaking reality, this horror story, it’ll break me up into bits and pieces.

He removed his shaking hands from his head, his eyes still wide. He looked at the fallen head of Psyche. “Always, his smile had been so nice,” he said distantly. “Tsuki’s, too.” Brow furrowing, a thin, pained smile spread over his face, growing pallid. “They were so pretty. Like hers. You know? Ayano, she had—the prettiest smile. I still know the exact shade of her hair, too—I’ll never forget the sound of her voice the way other people would forget her; those bastards.” He laughed faintly, with a hitch. “I—don’t want to see any of this tragedy again. I want to see her. Ayano, I want to see Ayano… Ayano… Ayano…”

Seidou stared at his breakdown, lost for an answer. Aw, shit.

“You can’t ever reach and touch such a thing… It may just break. All of it’s a deception anyway, it doesn’t mean anything. It only hurts you in the end. Hah. What sort of hero are you if you just go and selfishly leave me like that?”

The half-ghoul felt his body take a step up in rigidity. “This is totally not what I wanted out of you,” he said in a tight voice. “Dumbass, you’re not the only survivor.”

“I’d rather be all alone, anyway,” he said darkly. “That’s what I want. That’s what I most desire…”

Seidou’s lip curled. “You can’t just go and say that. Do you want to see her or not, huh?”

“Why does it matter? She’s already dead.”

“What does it—?” Seidou gritted his teeth, eye blazing. “You little motherfucker; are you still blaming yourself?”

Shintaro only laughed drily, looking up with a cold, twisted smile. “Don’t worry, even if I tried, I couldn’t possibly join her in Hell where we belong.”

“You think you’re incompetent? You think you’ve failed, huh? Oh, yes, the problem you couldn’t solve: Ayano! Ayano-chan, wherever you are, you’re probably damned ashamed of this pathetic piece of trash that is Shintaro Kisaragi!” Stepping over the bodies, Seidou leaned down to properly face Shintaro. “You were right; you were the problem all along, right?”

Shintaro stared into his fiery eyes, his ice melting into the void once more. “That’s right,” he agreed.

“Because you never did ANYTHING RIGHT, right? Because even if you were to go back in time, you’d still do the exact same thing, wouldn’t you? Wouldn’t you?

“I guess I would,” he answered, vaguely listless.

“Because you’re the mistake, right?”

“Exactly.”

Bullshit.”

Shintaro blinked, eyes flickering. “What?”

“You think you’re a failure? Because of her? When obviously SHE WAS THE ONE WHO FAILED? You fucking dumbass!” he spat.

“She failed me, and I failed her. Is that really so hard to comprehend?”

“How DARE you call yourself a failure when I have NEVER, not ONCE, been a success?”

“And how am I a success?” asked Shintaro, tilting his head. “If you try and tell me it’s because of my grades, you’re wrong.”

“Not—the grades—

“No? Because you should know by now that it’s not the numbers that matter, right? It’s…”

“…The people?” Seidou’s mouth twisted into a sardonic grin. “Pretty ironic, coming from someone who suddenly can’t connect with anyone. You’re doing nothing but contradicting yourself again.”

“You do it all the time,” Shintaro answered dully.

He scoffed. “Entirely not the point. You really do still care about other people, huh? Otherwise you wouldn’t have broken down just now, right? All that apathy is just a front, get it? So just shut up about all of that ‘not caring’ bullshit, because really you’re just trying to cover up that you care too much to connect.”

“I don’t know that that’s quite the case…”

“I DON’T CARE.”

Shintaro frowned. “Then shouldn’t you stop making the argument that you hate everyone?”

“Oh, shut up. You’re the one who accepted the challenge of saving me, who doesn’t want to be saved—”

“—Who is desperate to be saved,” Shintaro corrected icily.

“Who wants you to shut up,” he hissed.

“Who can’t stand the truth being pointed out to him.”

“Who doesn’t know what the truth is.”

Shintaro was quiet. So was Seidou.

“Roppi was right, after all, wasn’t he?” Seidou sneered, a shimmer of distress in his eye. “Every one of us, saying the exact opposite of what we’re feeling—what a sardonic setup that is. How terrible. How terribly—funny. Fuckin’ hilarious. What sort of dark comedy is this? I—hate it.”

“Me too,” Shintaro said eventually, and Seidou looked at him. The NEET stared back with dead eyes. Seidou supposed that he’d gone back to being numb rather than drowning in his emotions. Narrowing his eye, the white-haired one frowned. “What now, then?” asked the shut-in.

“I don’t know,” he uttered. “Really, it’s all just stupid, I think.” Sighing harshly, he went to pick the machine gun back up. “Let’s get away from the bodies for now—I actually hate the other harrowed you worse than this one. I mean, at least you react, but what the fuck…”

“Back to the city, then?”

“The dirt road,” Seidou corrected in a growling tone. “For now.” With that, he yanked Shintaro to his feet and practically dragged him back in the direction they’d come.

 

Chapter 89: Friend

Chapter Text

 

“Izaya, it won’t let me send a message back—what do I do?”

Izaya sighed as he rolled his pant leg back down – he’d just tended to the bullet wounds Yukki had dealt him. “Wait for the next message, I’d suppose,” he said.

“But—what if it never says anything else?”

“I somehow doubt that whoever it is will remain silent for too terribly long.”

“Who do you think it is? Is it Akise? Or is it Celty? It could be her. Did you know she’s a ‘Dullahan’? That’s from Irish folklore. A-ya told me about it. Isn’t that cool? I got to see her take her helmet off and everything. I can’t imagine someone like that dying.”

Izaya frowned. And yet I’m the one that told A-ya about that legend. He sighed heavily.

“Right, you probably saw her without her head when you went and found Akise’s notebook,” the cloaked one said thoughtfully. A shadow fell over his expression, suddenly touched with fear. “What if it’s Yuno?”

“What if it is?” Izaya handed the question back to him. “I don’t know who it is texting you. I couldn’t tell you that. I don’t know.”

“I thought you knew everything!”

The informant frowned at the cloaked one, eyes narrowing. “Well, I lied.”

“Ah… but…” Yukki paused. “Mm, well, you’ve helped me out so far, so I guess we can figure it out… You think?”

Izaya drew his lips into a thin line, looking mildly irritated. “Yukki.”

“Yeah?”

“What are you thinking, anyway?”

“What do you mean?”

“You can’t tell me you already trust me, just like that.” He got to his feet from the table he sat upon, spreading his arms. “You confronted me saying that you couldn’t trust anyone. What makes you think you can trust me? Hah? Are you an idiot?

Yukki considered this, bringing one hand to the back of his head. “I mean, for one thing, you’re saying all that right now, and you actually sound upset about it for some reason. And that should mean that you’re telling the truth.”

“It doesn’t quite work like that, kid…”

“And besides, you have nothing to worry about, Izaya! Because I don’t trust you one bit!”

Izaya found himself sighing again. “You’re hopeless…”

“Really, don’t worry about it,” Yukiteru said reassuringly. “I’ll doubt every word you say, okay?”

“That’s not…”

“But um, theoretically, if you were honest, do you think you could get a message to send from this thing?”

“It’s probably rigged to make sure you can’t,” Izaya frowned. “The game masters are pretty thorough about all this.”

“Speaking of game masters,” he blinked, “didn’t you want to use the items pillar?”

“I already used it,” Izaya waved him off.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Hah?” Izaya furrowed his brow. “It wouldn’t activate if I went up to it.”

“Prove it.”

Izaya stared at him, expression deadpan. “Fine.” He walked up to the pillar, which remained dark. “See?”

“Hm, I see,” Yukiteru said thoughtfully, nodding a few times with one hand at his chin. “But does this mean that you aren’t a real player in-game, or is it that you’ve really used it already?”

Izaya frowned. “I see what you’re doing.”

“You didn’t want me to trust you, right?”

“Yukki, I don’t remember you being such a smartass,” he smirked, looking bothered.

“I don’t remember you at all,” Yukki pointed out, and Izaya looked at the ceiling.

“You have a point. For all you know, I’ve never actually met you… Funny.”

“I don’t think it’s funny. Actually kind of scary. Almost makes you a stalker, doesn’t it? Since you know so much about me?”

Izaya cocked an eyebrow at him. “And you’ve had experience with that kind of thing, haven’t you, Yukki?”

“Yeah. It kinda sucked,” he commented mildly, staring intently at his silent cellphone.

That mirthless smile twisted Izaya’s features again. “Aa, don’t you worry, though, Yukki, I’m nothing of the sort. That sort of thing is beneath me,” he waved him off.

“So you’re a serious stalker, got it.”

“Are you just going to believe the exact opposite of everything I say?”

“Yeah, I guess I will.”

Izaya thinned his lips. “Alright, well, I only speak in lies, so that’s fair, isn’t it?”

Yukiteru began to nod, then looked at him with wide eyes. “Hey…”

“Whoops, I made a paradox,” the informant shrugged.

“Oh, jeez, what should I do with that? That’s no fun! Oh, well, I guess that means I’ll have to trust you selectively.”

Izaya tilted his head. “You know what’s interesting about you?”

“I have gravity powers!” he answered brightly, and Izaya blinked.

Chuckling, he responded, “Not what I was going for.” He held up his silver-ringed index finger, smile pulled over his face. “You don’t really get irritated. If anything, you present frustration in giddy hysterics – and that’s only for extreme situations. Must be some kind of defense mechanism or something.”

“Huh?”

“Of course that doesn’t apply to everything… Hm, but when you do get angry, you sure are unstable. Scary.”

“Ah, well, I guess I have the right to be angry about some stuff, right?”

“That’s quite the understatement,” Izaya commented, and pushed off of the table he was leaning on to cross over to the self-serving section of the store. “Say, what does Yukki like to drink? Tea? Coffee?”

“Uhm, you’re making drinks?”

“I’d like a refreshment myself, and seeing as you were kind enough not to kill me, I thought I should offer such hospitality.”

“Oh, tea is fine, then.”

“Green or black?”

“Uu, green.”

“Got it,” Izaya said dismissively, and walked out the door.

Yukki stared after him before jumping to his feet, delayed. “Wai…!” He ran after him, finding him walking casually down the street with his hands in his pockets. “Say, you didn’t run off.”

“Of course not. You shot me in the leg; I’m limping. It certainly won’t do for what I have planned, but I’ll have to manage.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry – the one who injured me most severely wasn’t you, anyhow. That one…”

“What exactly are you planning?” Yukki asked curiously as they turned into a grocery store.

“For now, that’s secret—oh, good.” He’d found what he needed: it was one of those hot water dispensers, you know, that stores keep in little cubbies. The customers can put together their coffee or their tea however they like, and then they drink it in-store and pay for it at the register. The information broker turned his back to Yukki as he tested the water for heat. After futzing with the plug and succeeding in starting the machine that kept the water warm, he proceeded to ignore the cheap tea packets on the counter there, walking off with a measured pace to an isle that would have proper tea bags.

Yukki followed after him like a curious puppy. “So, uh…”

“Mm.” He didn’t seem amused, scanning the boxes of tea and eventually plucking a box from the shelf. Yukiteru decided to stay quiet for a while. So, as Izaya toyed with the water heater back at the counter, the younger sat comfortably on the floor and stared in apprehension at his phone. At some point in this period of waiting, the phone went off after all, at which Izaya glanced over at the other. Seeing Yukki immediately flip open his phone, the informant began to make two cups of tea.

Yukiteru’s blue eyes shone as he scanned through the next message. He read it once, twice, absorbing the words sent for him. He closed his phone as Izaya held out a cup of tea to him. “Ah…” He set down the phone, accepting the cup. “Thank you.”

“What did it say?” asked the informant as he settled himself on the floor nearby, facing the younger. He sipped gently at his own tea.

Yukiteru just stared into the liquid.

“You don’t have to reveal it if you don’t wish to, of course,” Izaya shrugged, smirking just slightly.

“They mentioned you,” he admitted.

“Oh?”

Yukki nodded, and took a sip of his tea. Ah, not sweetened.

“If you want anything in your tea, by the way,” added Izaya, “you can go on and get it yourself.”

“N-no, this is fine…” He began to frown, holding the drink tighter in his hands.

Izaya eyed him. “What is it, Yukki?”

Yukki didn’t look up, gaze fixed on his tea. “Did I really used to know you, Izaya?”

“Hm?” Izaya blinked at him. “Why ask this now?”

“Because…” In the wavering reflection of his tea, Yukki’s face was obscured. “…there’s no way I wouldn’t know who you are, if I’d met you already.”

“Is that so?” Unconcerned, Izaya sipped again at his own cup.

“I feel like it’s okay to explain something like this. From my realm, something like a Future Diary…”

“I don’t think I’d have been in your future,” Izaya pointed out, cocking an eyebrow. “Otherwise you would have known these games would take you out of that situation.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

Yukiteru drew his lips into a thin line. “Everyone’s journal was specified to a certain focus, depending on the person. I’d had the observer’s journal… the Random Diary, you see.” Izaya looked at him with just slightly more interest. His exhausted intrigue had been sparked. “And that was because… I…” He watched the reflection of light atop the tea’s surface quiver as his hands tightened further. “Well, even if you were only in the background, I would have noticed you. I… I’m an observer, I look at everything. I take interest in everything – in everyone else.”

“Hah?”

“I could tell you the schedules of all of my classmates; I could name their interests and their fears if they’d ever given even a hint. That’s why I know Roy Mustang was from a world focused on alchemy, and I know that he was worried about a girl named Hawkeye. I know that he liked short skirts, and that he liked to pretend that he was enthralled with women and other frivolous things, and that he had a soft spot for kids… I could go on about anyone I’d actually spent time with. Even before I got caught up with something like a Future Diary, I kept my own… uh, journal. Every moment of every day, recording everything and everyone around me… Oh, I mean—is that weird?”

Yukiteru thought for sure that Izaya was smiling. “Not to me,” the informant answered. “But I’m probably not the best person to ask.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. You’re probably more than a little nuts.”

Izaya laughed at that. Yukki listened to that hollow ringing, and furrowed his brow even as he sipped at the warm tea he clutched so tightly in his hands. “But Yukki, a weapon like that as a Future Diary, you certainly would have been a formidable opponent! Knowing everything about everyone, why, who could stop you then? You were placed in a war that you could actually win… Imagine everything you could learn! You really could become god by the end, eh?”

Yukiteru’s grip on his tea had loosened and, sheepishly, he scratched at his cheek. “I mean, thanks… But there was a slight problem with it, too.”

“Oh, certainly.” Izaya cocked his head, leaning on one of his palms. He raised his cup with a smirk. “Nobody’s invincible, not even God.”

“That’s a scary thought,” Yukiteru admitted, toying with his cloak with his one free hand. “But, no, um… You see, I wrote about everything and everyone except for… um, myself.”

Izaya blinked. “Yourself,” he repeated.

“Yeah.” He couldn’t make out his reflection in the surface of the tea anymore. He sighed. “Why write about me? That wasn’t what I wanted to record. I didn’t have anything about me that was interesting. And really… I guess the only thing to me was that journal.”

“Basically…” Slowly, Izaya set his drink on the floor. “…you were doing nothing but living vicariously through other people?”

“Wha?”

“You weren’t living,” he said. “You were using other people to be alive.”

“That’s—” Yukiteru began to protest, then stopped himself, looking at the ground. “That’s exactly right. But it wasn’t like I necessarily wanted to be so apart from the world. I mean—I wanted it; it was what I preferred… And yet, it wasn’t what I—what I longed for, you know? It wasn’t what I dreamed about.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…” He thought on it. “As distant as I was, and as much as I rejected anyone else’s advances, even I—wanted connections.” He took on the slow, measured tone of someone gathering their sincerest thoughts and gradually laying them out, not only to convey what they mean to another, but also to come to understand it themselves. “And having said that, I… To be an ‘observer;’ looking at everyone else as if from afar… I… really, I was so… lonely…”

There was a drawn-out silence that followed, and Yukki feared looking up into eyes that saw right through him. Why had he told Izaya something like that? What would he say? What would he think?

Yukiteru looked up to see Izaya’s mouth upturned in a crooked fashion. “I knew,” he said with his gaze averted, “that there was a reason A-ya liked you so much. Hah.”

“Pardon me?”

“Regardless, you two are an interesting pair after all…” He sounded subdued, even in his state of intrigue. “Like two old pals walking a tightrope towards one another, each with a noose around your neck. The closer you get to one another, the tighter the nooses get. What will happen? We can only see. I can’t wait…”

Yukiteru’s lips parted in something that could have been indignance or perhaps horror, but he had nothing to say.

Izaya’s smile dropped. “Yukiteru-kun, do tell me this… Why are you so bent on reaching A-ya, hah? Do you think you two had something?”

“Well, I mean…” Yukiteru found his hands tightening around his cup again. “A-ya was… my first friend, see.”

“That’s nothing special.”

“Wh—wait a minute, what’s that supposed to—”

“Why do you want to find him so badly, Yukki?” The younger one didn’t like the way Izaya’s eyes bore into him. “Why do you want to find him? To be at his side?”

“I mean… yes?” he answered, brow furrowed.

“Sound more certain about it, if you’re so hellbent on succeeding.”

“It’s because…” Yukiteru really had to do a lot of critical thinking here. “I do want to be at his side, but I want to be there with him because—because I care about him.”

“Why do you care about him?” Izaya pressed.

“Because he’s my first friend.”

“That doesn’t mean anything—”

“Maybe it doesn’t mean anything to you,” Yukiteru snapped, “but it means something to me! Didn’t you have a first friend, huh? I’d bet not!”

He looked surprised, as a child might. “Harsh,” Izaya commented after a beat of silence, then sipped at his tea.

The other backpedaled quickly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—well, I guess I did mean it, but that’s only fair. I’m not saying—well, I guess… Uh…”

“No, no,” Izaya waved him off, mouth twisted. “You’re more or less right. I use the word ‘friend’ sparingly. Oftentimes I use it mockingly. But to really use it in its proper sense… I’d have to say I had a ‘first friend,’ myself. I met him when I was your age, in fact. His name is Shinra. How about that, Yukki?”

Yukiteru blinked. “Really? Are you still friends?”

“He probably would have forgotten about me, too, so hell if I know. I’m on the verge of hoping he has forgotten me, at this point.” And he laughed. “No, I’d like it better, even if he were to hate me…” He shook his head. “That’s not my point at all, Yukki. You and A-ya aren’t anything special, that’s all. There is no such thing as fate; there is no such thing as destiny. If there was, you probably defied it just by meeting the kid. You were never meant to meet him, and you were henceforth never meant to befriend him. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“I’ve changed fate before,” Yukiteru said matter-of-factly. “Even if, in this ridiculous realm, there is a future set in stone, I can rewrite it if I want to. And you know what, Izaya? Even if all these bad things are happening, I’m glad we’re here – all of us! I’m glad these games exist, and I’m glad this realm exists. Because—you’re right: I never would have met him.”

“If you were to, in any other circumstance than this,” Izaya frowned, “you likely would not have been friends.”

“So? We are right now.”

“Are you?”

He went rigid at the question. “Of course we are.”

“How do you know? What’s the basis of your friendship? Talking like schoolgirls in the middle of the night?”

“It was more than—”

“There is only one reason that you care for him, and only one reason he cares for you. This is no pure friendship; it isn’t deep-rooted or thought-provoking or the result of anything beyond circumstance. Yukki, the only reason you care for A-ya is because he was always there for you in the beginning, right? And he was the first person to ever do that—barring Yuno Gasai, of course.”

He flinched. “Well, I…”

“And the only reason he’s trying so hard for you is because you gave him what you call a ‘future.’ Nothing more. You gave him something to look forward to. It’s no wonder he wants to reset, kid! Because he doesn’t want a future without you in it.”

“Is that so wrong?” Yukki asked faintly.

“If anyone else had protected you from the beginning – say Ken Kaneki was the one you were caught up with in-group. Maybe it was Yato, back when he played as the nice guy. Maybe it was Shinichi.”

The younger quickly averted his gaze at the name.

“In any of those circumstances for you, someone else would have taken A-ya’s place. To put it into perspective, Yukki, everyone has a first friend sometime. Everyone experiences betrayal. No one goes through life untainted, and no one is clear of immorality. Everyone has secrets. Everyone’s the same. And that’s why your proclamation of friendship means absolutely nothing. Anyone could have become your first real friend. Anyone at all.”

“That isn’t true,” Yukiteru argued. “He and I, we had a lot in common… And we—we went through a lot together, okay? And even if it were a possibility that it wouldn’t end up like that—even if you say it’s coincidence, it doesn’t matter because—because that’s what happened, and so he and I, that is, the us of right now, we’re friends! If you were to go on about the possibilities of what didn’t happen, then nothing in life would matter at all!”

“But you don’t actually care about A-ya, do you, Yukki?” His eyes narrowed. “I told you what the truth about the two of you is, and you can’t deny it. For both of you, it’s nothing but selfishness, through and through.”

“So neither of us want to be alone. What of it? We chose each other for company.”

“And that’s all you want? To have him at your side? Or do you want his well-being?” Izaya smiled a cruel smile. “Judging by the fact that you almost went so far as to support him in his endeavors to self-destruct, I’d have to come to the conclusion that you don’t care about him at all. If you want to be by his side now, it’s not A-ya that you want as company. He’s not A-ya anymore. You just want company, period. You want the ideal of not feeling alone. That’s it. He just happens to be your object of choice to achieve this. Is that friendship? You tell me, Yukki.”

Yukiteru stared at him. Finding himself too stunned to answer, he gulped down his tea instead.

“Speaking of which, you and I will be parting ways soon, if you’ll allow it. I’m probably only going to stick around until I finish this cup of tea.”

The cloaked one looked to Izaya’s face, now distant. “Wait, you’re leaving?”

“Of course I am. That is, unless you kill me.”

Yukki noticed that Izaya’s tea was down to the last few sips.

“Don’t get me wrong; I really do want to see what happens with you and A-ya.” Yukiteru was getting used to that mirthless smirk. “Whether you end up puppets bound by the strings of your hearts, for better or for worse… Whether you cut these strings, strengthen them, or whatever you deem necessary…. Whether you follow A-ya down his path or try to save him… It’s your show, see, and I have my own to run—”

“Izaya, I have a request!”

It was Izaya’s turn to be surprised, finding Yukiteru looking at him with blue eyes burning with grave conviction. “Hah? What’s that, Yukiteru-kun?”

“Can you leave—that is, can you wait to leave until I finish my drink?”

“I…?” Izaya watched as Yukiteru downed the last of tea and shoved the cup towards the information broker with firm absoluteness.

“And may I have another glass?”

Izaya stared at the cup for a moment, expression comically astonished. His gaze returned to Yukki, then slackened into something akin to worn-out amusement. “Why, sure.”

 

Chapter 90: Smiling Shadow

Chapter Text

 

Nora was using a cloth to wipe the blood from her body – her arms, her face, her hands, her legs. Indeed, even I am getting worn down, she mused, her thoughts flavored with a dash of displeasure. As she was dabbing at one of her name-riddled arms, she paused. A presence was upon her.

She continued to wipe at her wounds. Yato was lying still somewhere in a room above her. A smile touched her lips; she didn’t look. “Following us, are you? Do you think you’re invisible to me?”

There was a low chuckle. Leaning against the far wall was the man called Durden, his bald head not shining if only because there was no direct light source here. His mouth was pulled into a wry smile that stretched his goatee. “I’m here, alright. Have you been able to see me the whole time?”

“Of course not. I’m sure you’ve been around longer than even I could know. But you’ve revealed yourself to me before, haven’t you? At the very end of our game.”

Durden shrugged, his thick arms still crossed over his chest. “I don’t remember revealing myself to you specifically. Nah, I was with the terrorist chick Minene. I showed my face to her, to Saiko, and to Rika.”

“You think I wasn’t paying attention?” Nora chuckled softly. “I was in the hands of Maka, but even facing that unsightly half-ghoul, I could still pay you mind, Game Master.” She turned to him, raising a sleeve to her mouth. “And because I’ve seen you once, it’s harder for you to maintain your stealth, isn’t that so? Not so much of a smiling shadow now, are you?”

Durden breathed a sigh. “I think it’s pretty badass being called a ‘smiling shadow’ at all. You, though, you’re just a bitch.”

“Oh?”

“A cold-hearted bitch.” He tilted his head. “I hate those. Not that I’m so redeeming myself – I am an asshole. Ass. Hole.” His eyes were shadowed; he looked grim. “That is something that won’t ever change. Maybe Yato won’t change either.”

“He never has,” Nora agreed quietly. “He never will.”

Durden’s mouth twisted. “You’d be surprised. A lot of people in this game are starting to sober up. Some things don’t change – that’s true. But people can develop, and that’s something else entirely. Sometimes people realize the thing they’re running from is the thing they need most. Sometimes people can get stronger, strong enough to stand their own reality. Sometimes people can have an epiphany…” He eyed her with irises shining purple in the dim lighting. “No matter how much people develop, progress or regress, for better or for worse… Aren’t they still the same people? You can still lay out all of your flaws and learn to accept them and adapt to them rather than let them rot you. That’s all about knowing yourself.”

“And who are you, then, Game Master?”

“I feel like I should know.” Dry mirth touched his tone. “But you can call me Durden.” He looked off into nowhere, expression blank. “That’s it, huh? Only two girls left from the girls’ game. You and Rika are it. So not cool. At least Rin’s pretty cute.” He paused. “Guess only you and Rika could blow my cover, though. I was so totally voting for Celty to make it, or at least Minene. My judgment fucking sucks. I wanted Touka to make it. Look at what happened. I keep fucking shit up.” At that, he started to snicker, low and cruel. “That’s the best.”

“Is it?” She seemed unamused.

“I have my own plot to fulfill.”

The slightest of frowns touched her lips. “And what’s that?”

He didn’t answer. “Say, you’re Yato’s partner, aren’t you?” She didn’t react as Durden stepped towards her, uncrossing his arms. “Shouldn’t you fetch him? He’s trying to leave.”

She blinked. “He…?”

“That would be a good idea, wouldn’t it? Oh, right, here.” He put a hand on her small shoulder, and she frowned just slightly. “In the northeastern part of the city, there’s a shrine. Get some holy water for him – it might help him out. You know? Being Yato’s Shinki, you know he’s close to being exterminated. That’s how this game will end, at this rate. If he keeps going and killing people, he’s going to die. That’s how it is. You led him here. Just saying.”

“He will not perish,” she said firmly, stepping away from the tall one. He backed off, smiling. “He has me.”

“And that means what?” He laughed, a full laugh from the gut that resounded with something cold. “I stick around you guys because you’re the antagonists, but do you know what happens to antagonists at the end of a story? They don’t make it.”

“We are not antagonists.”

“Bullshit.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“Look, here’s all I’m saying.” He raised his hands, palms forward, in a show of peace. “You’re coming up on something that will get Yato killed. This is a test of character. If you don’t do something, Yato will die. Is that what you desire?” She opened her mouth, but he cut her off. “I don’t want the answer from your mouth. I want the answer from your actions. You can keep being a little bitch. It suits you. But let me tell you…” He chuckled again, eyes distant. “I’ve got a special liking towards Izaya Orihara, too. I so thought you were gonna kill the guy. Would have been fuckin’ hilarious—but you didn’t. In this case, I couldn’t be happier. You know what he’s doing right now? You cut his ties. The other masters, they had such a tight grip on Izaya because of how damned inconvenient he was. I disagree – he’s fun. Now they can’t do shit. You know what that means? Izaya’s gonna start playing his game again, and this time, he’s gonna do it right. He’s got a reason to do shit now, and you guys are the ones who gave him that reason.”

Somewhere in the shopping district, Izaya was stepping out into the street, Yukiteru at his heels.

“You didn’t kill him…” said Durden, “…and that’s why he’s gonna be the end of Yato. Don’t you know it already? If you break something, it comes back stronger.”

Reddish-brown eyes, though tired, had a sense of intensity as the information broker looked to the north, his hand on the hilt of the Prophet.

“You’d better get ready.” Durden looked at Nora meaningfully, luminescent eyes glimmering with cruel mischief. “Because I’m excited for what comes next.”

Yukiteru grabbed at Izaya’s jacket before he could start walking, and the information broker looked back at him. The sun was getting lower in the sky, and Izaya wanted to head out before it started drawing too close to sunset.

“Say, Izaya…,” said Yukiteru, hesitant. “I’m going to head to the house where—well… I’m going back to, to the scene where Celty and Minene were. I’m gonna see what’s there. I don’t suppose you… want to come with me?”

Izaya cocked an eyebrow, smirking a bit. “Heh, aren’t you persistent? No, I’m going to find the one named Ken Kaneki. I’ll bet you won’t want to meet up with them – seeing as you killed Shinichi Izumi. They were apparently allied, last I checked.”

“But I…”

“Listen. You’ve got some stuff to figure out – I’m not your counselor or anything.” He frowned, looking annoyed. “I have my own show to run, and you have yours. So run it. You have some decisions to make – make them yourself. I’m not going to help you. No one is. Understand? It’s your choice. Now, if you end up deciding to join me, I’ll be with those unified groups, if they’ll have me. If you do, of course, you’re going to have to go back on your choice to thin out the players. You’re going to have to go back on what your friend’s doing right now. And you’re probably going to have to apologize for killing somebody, because sheesh, that’s a tough one.” He shrugged, nonchalant. “It’s your mess, so clean it up. If you want the mess, if you think it’s the good kind of mess, then—well, I guess we’ll see one another again on the battlefield. You can go ahead and raise hell, or you can put out the flames. I’m doing both, so I’ll meet you there.”

Yukiteru stood still, his hands clutched into fists at either side. His machine gun was laid against the wall back in the store; his phone was kept safely in his cloak. He was looking at the asphalt beneath his bare feet, and he noticed that he was trembling. “I…”

“Hm?” Izaya, frowning, tilted his head just slightly.

“I don’t know. I don’t know at all… For—for saying everything you did… I…”

“Listen,” he sighed, “I didn’t do anything for your sake—” Izaya was cut off by the kid’s embrace, releasing only a pained grunt. It was all he could give. He was less shocked by the pain than he was the fact Yukiteru had hugged him, but his astonishment quickly slipped back into annoyance. “Oi.” He patted Yukki’s head grudgingly, and the kid released him, eyes on fire.

“I appreciate it more than I can say. I have a lot to think about. So—don’t you go and end up lost, yourself. Got it?”

“Khe… of course not,” said Izaya, turning from him with a slight wave. Yukiteru watched him go for only a little while before he went to gather his things. They parted ways, then, neither planning on letting their sparks peter out.


Yato lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. The walls were too tall, too dark. He felt an unpleasant heat closing in on his throat; his eyes ached. He felt so incredibly heavy; he didn’t want to move. His ears were ringing, his head was beginning to throb. Vision pulsating to the slow beat of his headache, he heard Kaneki: Do you still detest that depravity of yours?

And also: Imagine the tale of a son disgusted by his parent’s depravity… Imagine the moment he realizes the same cruel impulses are budding within himself.

What day was it? How long had this game been going on? Yato wanted to sleep, but it would not take him. He pressed his palms to his eyes, gritting his teeth. “What am I supposed to do? What else do I do?

With his hands pushed to his eyes, the darkness offered peace. He didn’t have to be here. He didn’t have to be lying injured on the floor of some empty building of some near-abandoned city. He didn’t have to be in this game. What kind of ridiculous game was this, anyhow? Impossible—it was impossible.

How could Hiyori have perished? He hadn’t seen it happen. No, she was waiting for him somewhere, so where was she? How could he reach her? He needed to get out of here.

Vision obscured in a feverish haze, he sat up perhaps too quickly. His head spun. The dark fingers of unconsciousness crept over the edges of his vision as he staggered to his feet, breathing unevenly. “Hiyori…” He made his way out the door of the room he was kept in, down the halls and into the stairwell. Bracing himself, he gripped at the railing and jumped over the ledge, down three stories and onto the ground level. He bent into a crouch on impact, and then fell onto his side.

And yet…

As he forced himself to his feet again and through the door, into the lobby of the building he resided in, he felt his heart rupture at the thought of Yukine.

I don’t want to do this anymore,” he whispered hoarsely. The ground was unsteady, but the exit was so close. They can’t be dead. How could they be dead? How could I…?

As he opened the door, the sun poured on him for only a moment before the handle was ripped from his hands, the door slammed and locked without warning. All around him, the windows clacked shut, the room going dark as though curtains blocked sunlight’s entry. A chill permeated the atmosphere. He stood stock-still; the sounds were dizzying. “That’s…” Turning to find Nora at his back, her eyes dark and merciless, he bowed his head. “Hiiro…”

“You were trying to leave after all… and without me.” Suddenly back to her eerily warm self, she smiled gently. “It’s okay; I forgive you.” She took his hand with one of her own, the other pressing dainty fingers to his forehead. “You’re ill, poor thing. We’ll have to take care.”

“Let me go.” He felt sure that he’d meant to sound firm, but it came out as a low utterance of desperation. She paused, surprised, but did not draw back. He pushed away from her, and his legs folded unwillingly beneath him like crumpled wings. He was profoundly confused when he discovered his palms were on the floor.

Tilting her head, she brought a sleeve to her mouth, expression blank. “How strange… You’ve never said anything like that before.”

“I need to get out of here—I need to get back…”

“To what?” she asked softly.

“To…”

“There’s nothing left for you,” she said lowly. “The blond Shinki perished before your eyes, and I told you that Hiyori Iki is dead. Yato… they’re gone. Do you think you can go to Yukiteru? Do you think you can make peace with Ken Kaneki? I think both of them have made it quite clear that they wish to kill you, now. Even if you were to return home and find Hiyori and Yukine alive and well, do you really think they’d like the real you, the you I know so well? Of course they wouldn’t, The only place to return to is home, with me. And with Father. Do you understand it yet?” She crouched before him, her eyes softening towards his tormented form. “We have always been the only place for you to belong.”

“But I had…”

Had. You had.” She paused, frowning just slightly. “I don’t understand why you continue to think of them. She was nothing but a human… no, a lowly half-phantom, at that. She was mortal. She would inevitably die at some point. You knew that. And that new Shinki of yours; he wasn’t bound to last you forever. You know that, too. No one ever has lasted but me. We’ve been together for so, so long…”

He felt hands at his face, cool to the touch. Soft. She lifted his face to meet his eyes, smiling at him with all her warmth. “Oh, Yato, don’t cry, now. It’s okay.” She brushed lightly at his cheeks with her thumbs. “You are a God of Calamity; tragedy will inevitably follow you. But so will I, without fail. No matter what happens, you will always, always have me. I’ll never leave your side. I will not perish, nor will I allow you to. It doesn’t matter to me what situation awaits us, because as long as I’m with you, I am happy.”

She pulled him into her small arms, and he gave into her embrace. He remembered what it was like to clasp her hand and run barefoot with her through the fields as children. He remembered how they’d cherished the blood they’d shed together. He remembered their closeness, her undying warmth, and her strange and unwavering imperviousness to all the negative things that would normally weigh down a human soul.

“They would have disappeared, someday,” she murmured to him, who was silent. “I was always waiting for you to return to me. We are family. All along, you hadn’t changed, not really. You were able to pretend for a little while, to have a life where you could temporarily turn a blind eye to the blood on your hands… But in the end, when given a choice, you’ll always come back. It’s alright for you to miss them, but they never knew who you were, did they? No.”

His eyes looked nowhere, dull and hollow. She was right.

“You were even offered another chance, and yet again you still chose me, didn’t you? That won’t go to waste, Yato. I promise to stay with you and only you, my favorite master… Together, yes, we’ll go home together.”

“You’re—all that I…” His voice was rasping, plagued with sorrow.

“That’s right.” Her eyes flickered with something close to discontent, but she closed her lids and held him closer. “I’m all you have.”

“Hiiro…”

She didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. “It’s okay, Yato.” She was smiling.

“Always, always… You smile like that. You don’t care who suffers. You don’t care who dies.”

“Oh?”

“They meant something to me, whoever I was… whoever I am… and now, I…”

“Then we will avenge them,” Nora said simply. “Will that help you?”

“I… I…”

“It’s fine. Release what you need to.”

And he did. At first he stiffened, trying to stuff everything deep back inside himself, but his psyche felt swollen and his everything was so, so heavy. Gradually, his sorrow presented itself. Crying out to the ceiling, he wept for the first time since the morning after Yukine’s death. It was a bitter wailing; helpless and despairing. In her arms he called upon his despair – metamorphosing into fury – to manifest in the form of windows shattering, the walls threatening to crumble around them both. And all the while, she knelt there placidly with her arms wrapped around his tormented self. At ease, she let him express his grief. It was better this way.

Eventually the tumult brought on by his outburst quieted; he returned her embrace in a clinging fashion, his eyes squeezed shut. It was quiet for some time. Pleased, Nora stroked at his hair. He was still emanating a feverish heat, and still, he was trembling. But… “You have fight in you yet, Yato. I expected no less from you, of course. We will head out now, alright? There is somewhere for you to recover. For now, that’s enough. Is this fine with you?”

“Yeah…” She released him and stood, holding out her hand to help him to his feet. He took it distractedly. “Thanks, Hiiro.”

She looked at him curiously, tilting her head. “Of course,” she answered eventually, and she gave him support as she released her spiritual hold on the door, swinging open now to reveal the pale sky and the golden sun. “Let’s go, shall we?”

 

Chapter 91: All I Have

Chapter Text

 

Upon Rika’s quiet request, her new caretakers left the residential area and headed into the city. “The sun is getting low in the sky,” Konoha remarked softly as they walked the torn streets, ravaged by however many fights that had transpired in the city area. The six players made their way slowly. Shirou, much to his good-hearted frustration, was being carried by the android, as Kaneki thought it best that he use his broken leg as little as possible. Rin Tohsaka was being helped along by Hide in the meantime, who somehow managed to bring joy to the conversation between them all. Kaneki was, as per usual, not very talkative.

Rika had silently sent Hanyuu away to check the verdict of everyone else – where was Shintaro Kisaragi, and was he dead or alive? Where were Suzuya and Twelve? Had they made it? Had they not? Were Yato and A-ya in an alliance? What was Yukiteru up to? Was he alright – or at the very least, as alright as he could be?

While the goddess was off collecting information, Rika was humoring Hide and the others with her child persona.

“So why the city, eh, Rika?” asked the bright one.

“If I am right,” she said, “I do think there is a hospital somewhere on these streets. If we go there…”

“No,” said Kaneki suddenly, his tone harsher than he had intended. Some of the others looked at him in surprise, and he turned around, smiling warmly at Rika while touching his chin. “I’m sorry, Rika-chan, I didn’t mean to snap like that… I’d just rather not go there.”

“Oh? I’m sorry.”

“It’s nothing; you shouldn’t worry. It was a good suggestion, Rika-chan.” He turned back to face forward. “It’s just… there are no supplies in there anyway,” he added, suddenly dismal.

“Ah, I did not know it was bare.”

“Yeesh,” sighed Hide, rubbing at the back of his head. “Then, so… Rika-chan, do you come from the city yourself?” He was, of course, as friendly as ever.

“Oh, yeah…” Rin looked over at her. “Are you also from Tokyo? It seems that’s a common origin.”

“But I am not from Tokyo,” Konoha remarked, lost. Not that it was a big difference to his typically lost self.

“Oh?” said Shirou.

“I am not from there either,” Rika nodded.

“Then where are you guys from?” asked Rin.

“I am from Mekaku City,” Konoha informed them.

“Sounds as though it were a pun,” commented Kaneki, barely audible. Rin rolled her eyes.

“On the contrary,” said Rika, “I am from a little village called Hinamizawa, that is so! I thought that the city would be better than the residence we were in just now. My group stayed in that area for some time when I first transferred from the first game. Not the exact home, but nearby. It is a thought of mine that perhaps Yukiteru or A-ya would return for familiarity’s sake… They are the only ones left in that group.”

There was a moment of silence as the implications settled.

“Rika-chan,” said Kaneki, “would it be alright with you if I were to ask you a question?”

Her pace slowed to a halt. Beyond everyone else’s senses, Hanyuu returned to her bearing the news. “Let me think about it,” she said simply to Kaneki, who tilted his head with a lopsided smile. Everyone else had stopped with her; they stood in an intersection untouched by automobiles.

“Of course,” said the half-ghoul, and Hide laughed a bit.

Rika appeared to think hard on this, in actuality listening to the results of Hanyuu’s scouting. Eventually, she looked at Kaneki, shrugged, and smiled. “I guess so, nii.”

“Hah…” He scratched at his cheek. “You were together with Yukiteru, isn’t that right?”

“That better not be the question.”

“Oh, no, it isn’t.”

“Well, that answer’s yes. But what’s the real question?”

“Well, Rika-chan…” He touched his chin, eyes flickering cautiously. “I wanted to know if perhaps… you knew anything about what Yukiteru was planning to do.”

“Really, that was unforgiveable,” snipped Rin, and Hide nudged her gently. Shirou frowned, but said nothing.

Rika looked directly at her, and Rin was surprised to find how deep the pools of her eyes were. “Did you know that Shinichi would run in Yukiteru’s direction when he heard his voice?”

“Wha—? I mean, I wasn’t surprised, but I…”

“I’m sorry.” Rika closed her eyes, threading her fingers together tightly in front of her. “I do not know what Yukiteru intends to do. All that is certain is that he wishes to find A-ya. For what, I cannot tell. When last I was with him, it seemed as though he may want to join him rather than fight him. It is an understandable choice. I have been near Yukiteru since I came to this game. We had made the mistake of taking in the injured Yato and tending to his wounds. Unfortunately, he turned on us while we weren’t there, and he killed the rest…” She paused, her fingers tightening around each other. She ignored Shirou’s expression of appall, and Konoha’s subsequent hushing. “One other is missing. Yukiteru suspected further betrayal. A-ya, who was very close to him, had already left him prior to that, and at present I can’t say that Yukiteru is thinking rationally.” Her gaze shifted from one crack in the asphalt to another. “I understand that he hurt all of you… and so, I apologize for that.”

“You don’t need to apologize for the guy,” Hide assured her, but she shook her head. “Look,” he said, “you’re a brave kid, jumping in front of me like you did. So thank you.”

Kaneki nodded in agreement. “I’m happy to have you as a part of our group.”

Hide rubbed at the back of his head. “There’s gotta be something left in that kid, else he wouldn’t have stopped for you, Rika-chan.”

“That is so,” she conceded quietly.

“But, ah…” Hide looked around at everyone – at the embers Shirou was trying to hide, at the hollowness of Konoha, at the remorseful expression of Rin, at the fatigued eyes of Kaneki. “Maybe we should talk less about the fallen for now. We’ve all lost a lot of people, here, y’know? Better to focus on what we’ve got than what we’ve not,” he beamed. “So…”

“Wait,” said Rika lowly, and they looked at her with varying degrees of curiosity and confusion. “I want to give all of you as much as I can.”

“Rika-chan,” argued Shirou, “you don’t have to go any farther than you already have.”

“There’s no need to dwell on your teammates for now – or even Yato, for that matter,” Kaneki concurred. “Instead—”

“I intend to give you all I have,” she said, and all was silent. The wind stopped. She spoke in the prophetic tone which haunted the elders of her town, and Kaneki couldn’t help but wonder what tragedies she’d seen.

“But what does that mean?” asked Rin.

“For example,” Rika began, her persona scrapped, “your teammate Shintaro Kisaragi is alive.”

A new atmosphere was born. “How do you know that?” Shirou didn’t finish. Why should he have to? Suddenly everyone was listening with rapt attention.

“Shintaro is okay?” Konoha inquired in but a whisper.

“He is alive,” she repeated, folding her hands in to fists, one clenched hand gripping hard at the other. “At home, I have refrained from speaking like this… from showing myself in this way. I didn’t want to scare my friends, but now, that seems to be inconsequential. I hope that even if a child like me unnerves you, it will still be alright between all of us. I find it necessary to tell everything. I have been hiding things too long.”

“Konoha,” said Kaneki, “are we in the clear?”

“Huh? Oh. Yes,” said the android in return.

Rika nodded, appreciative. “Shintaro Kisaragi is alive,” she said yet again, “and he is with Seidou Takizawa. I don’t know what it is to be ‘harrowed,’” – a permissible lie, there was no reason to baffle them with the idea of reset yet – “…but Shintaro was discussing with him the properties of such an effect just now.”

“‘Just now,’ like…?” Rin’s eyes widened. “Is this magic you’re using?”

“Maybe clairvoyance?” tried Hide.

But Rika was shaking her head. “Something like that,” she said. “Of all of the people on the game field, there are only four groups left. Apparently, both Twelve and Suzuya have perished.” She paused, her gaze deadening. “Seidou Takizawa and Shintaro Kisaragi, they are one. There is A-ya. There is Yukiteru. And there is Yato, with Nora. We are all that are left. In regards to Yukiteru, it seems to me that he is revisiting the scene where our teammates died… I can’t tell why. In regards to A-ya, he did not have an official alliance with Yato. Rather, he and Nora made some form of deal that may not stand for much longer, if any longer at all. I’d have to say that it was more of a temporary cease-fire than an alliance.”

“That’s all well and good, thank you,” said Hide, “but like, how do you know that stuff? Can I ask that? I can ask that, right?”

“My name is Rika Furude,” Rika explained. “The Furude family, in my town, are the priests that care for the temple of Oyashiro-sama. It is said, in accordance to legend, that I, as a female in this family line, am the reincarnation of Oyashiro-sama.” She looked at everyone meaningfully. “In this game, there are demons, and there are gods. I am neither – however, I am the vessel to the one my villagers still call Oyashiro-sama.”

There was lengthy pause. It was Hide that spoke: “That’s so cool! Who knew – Kaneki, we’ve got a badass little kid in our group! How sweet is that? We’re totally making it all the way!”

Kaneki was touching his chin. “I’m not sure that’s how it works, Hide.”

“You kind of feel like summer,” Konoha commented. “You remind me of someone… but I forget.”

“You forget a lot of stuff,” sighed Rin.

“Is that bad?”

“In any case,” Shirou came in, “that probably meant a lot to say. Thank you very much, Rika-chan.”

“Of course.” The little one smiled. “I hope that I may continue to aid you. This goddess, you see, she’s very shy. She’ll meet you sometime, I’m sure. Until then, I will give all I can – that is so.”

Kaneki began to smile back, but faltered. In the city, things were already shadowed. The sky was beginning to darken. He took Rika by the wrist and pulled her back behind Konoha as he stepped forward. “I hear something,” he explained at the confused and concerned looks he received.

“I thought you said we were clear, Konoha?” Rin snipped, and Konoha blinked.

“But we were clear,” he said. “I understood just fine.”

Obviously you didn’t!” she cried. “In the clear, Konoha, are we in the clear. That means are we safe, you dunce!”

“Oh…”

“You’re hopeless.”

“Hey,” said Shirou to the android, “get me up on your shoulders. Can you?”

“Yes, I can do that,” he said, and did so.

“Oi, stay back with me and Rin-chan,” whispered Hide to Rika, who he guided to the space behind him and the snippy mage. Rin didn’t argue with this.

But the person that emerged from a corner only a block away had their hands raised in the air, no weapon visible. As he drew closer, even further confusion arose. “It…” said Konoha slowly. “It’s… Roppi?” He began to tremble at such a wishful thought. Could it really be?

“No, Konoha,” said Shirou lowly. “That—isn’t Roppi.”

“Then…?”

Although Konoha looked to Kaneki for help, Kaneki looked just as perplexed. “Though he looks like him, it isn’t,” the half-ghoul confirmed. “But I can’t say that we’ve ever come across him before. Hide, Rin, do you know him?”

“I’ve got nothing,” said Rin, and Hide offered a, “Nah, sorry.”

“Then everyone, stay here.” And Kaneki walked towards the one approaching them, straightening his posture. “Be wary for any ambushes from behind, alright, Konoha?”

“Oh, yes, of course.”

When Kaneki and Izaya met again, and they were close enough to converse, the one with the fur-trimmed jacket slowly lowered his hands. Kaneki noticed that this person seemed to have a smile frozen on his mouth, even though his eyes were darker than perhaps even Roppi’s had been, once upon a time. He looked jaded and tired; determined, but also as though he’d just clawed his way out of some form of Hell. Kaneki managed to catch the slight trembling of his hands before the stranger stuck them in his pockets.

“Hi there,” greeted the stranger, and he spread the smile thinner so that it could better stretch over his plastered features. “I don’t suppose you know who I am.”

“You look like two people that I once knew,” Kaneki answered, “but you are neither of them. You, I do not know.”

“Ah, it was worth a try, anyway.”

“What do you want from us?” Very to-the-point.

“No need to be so blunt, Kane-kun,” the man sneered, and Kaneki’s eyes narrowed. He seemed to backpedal, thinking over his word choice and tonality. “My, my, how rude of me!” He tittered, and the half-ghoul frowned a bit. “Sorry, sorry—really, I am. Well. Introductions are due, right? It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ken Kaneki. I’m Izaya Orihara.”

“How do you know my name?” Kaneki asked him coolly, and Izaya’s mouth twitched.

“A notebook, see. I have everyone’s names in it as all. I know plenty – I’m an information broker. Or I used to be, a little over a week ago.”

“Have you been in this game from the beginning?”

“I have.”

“You weren’t introduced in the start, if I remember correctly. Why?”

He flinched. “I was.”

“I don’t recall.”

At the redoubling ice in Kaneki’s voice, Izaya ran a hand through his dark hair. “Jeez, so cold, Kane-kun… Is it fine to call you that? Kane-kun? Or is that wrong? Hoh, by the way, where’s Roppi-san? I’m almost pleased he’s not here to tell me off. But what about Shintaro-kun? Akira-san?”

“Akira and Roppi have perished.” Kaneki maintained his cool impassivity. “Shintaro is not with us.”

“Too bad, really…”

“You’re running your mouth, but explaining nothing.” Kaneki leaned in close, and Izaya noticed that one of his grey eyes was now glowing a soft red. “Don’t think…” – his words were breathed to him, the utterance of a threat – “…that I will hesitate to hurt you. What will it be? Your floating ribs? Your eyeballs, or their lids? Your fingernails, or your fingers themselves?”

The sickening pop of Kaneki cracking his knuckle processed in Izaya’s eardrums, and the informant closed his eyes. The half-ghoul’s eyes only narrowed further when the human before him started laughing, if with a hitch. “Ripping off my fingernails is a nice start. You can take all of it and more. There isn’t much of me to take.” His laughter slowed, and his expression deadened. “Let’s try this again.” Izaya took a step back, creating space between the two of them as he freed his hands from his pockets. Now with the room to do so, he bowed undramatically. “I’m Izaya Orihara. I don’t intend to fight any of you. If I were to try, it would be suicide. I’m after Yato – we have mutual interests, I assume? He’s done me in, and I’d like to return the favor. However… it’s not something I can just go and do by myself.” He smiled ruefully at this.

“Is that so…” Kaneki considered this, touching his chin.

“I thought it best to go to you, Ken Kaneki. I’m not proposing that you have to accept me as a member of the little cluster you have going for you – I’m sure it’s a stable group already – but I would like to work with you for the purposes of giving the Yato god what’s coming to him. I don’t expect anything beyond that.”

The half-ghoul eyed him, trying to gauge sincerity. This man was certainly not in good shape. Indeed, even though Kaneki could identify the sword kept in its sheath, and even if he were to hide some kind of weapon in one of his pockets or in his pants, there wasn’t much he could do against Kaneki, and certainly not against the whole of their group.

“You don’t trust me,” he remarked, and Kaneki remained silent. “Not that I blame you. I wouldn’t trust me either.” The half-ghoul said nothing, and Izaya’s mouth twitched. “I have something in mind, too. I’ve got a plan, if you’re willing to hear it. If you’re willing to let me in.” Kaneki watched Izaya grip at his opposite arm, covering his stomach. He noticed the stiffness of his shoulders, and the depraved look in his face. “If you don’t, all I ask is that you don’t kill me,” Izaya added. “If it’s too much of a burden on all of you, I won’t trouble you. I’ll figure out some other way, of course. I’d understand – you’re allowed to be cruel like that in a death game.” He flashed what could have been a smile, but looked more like a grimace. Perhaps in reflection of his sharp tongue. “Or you could say something. The sun is setting, you know. Maybe you could even let me join you.” The albino merely looked at him without answer. Their gazes locked, and for a moment Kaneki wondered if perhaps he had known him, once. Quieter, he said, “You’ve done it before.”

The note of desperation in his voice caught Kaneki’s attention just a bit more. “Well, let’s see,” he said, touching his chin. Like Psyche, he doesn’t like the silence. “I can’t make the decision on my own, of course. Even if I’m the leader, it’s not me you should be convincing. It’s them. On that note…” Kaneki stepped towards him and wrapped an arm over the alleged informant’s shoulders, gripping the shoulder furthest him firmly. “Let’s introduce you to everyone, shall we?”

Izaya laughed, though it came out just slightly strained. Defusing the tenseness of Kaneki’s wordless warning, Izaya wrapped his own arm around the half-ghoul’s waist. “We can become great friends, Kane-kun. Is it alright to call you that, yet? Heh?”

“Don’t hold your breath,” Kaneki smiled sweetly, and began leading him to the others. “If the others don’t see you as a threat, then we will accept you with caution. Then you can call me whatever you want.”

“Sounds like a deal to me.”

When Izaya was before everyone else, he greeted them all cheerily. Kaneki explained, “This is Izaya Orihara. He’d like to join us; what do we think?”

Rika’s eyes flickered upon hearing the name, brow furrowing as she stayed behind the backs of Rin and Hide.

“I mean, does he seem to have ill will?” Shirou asked blankly.

“He seems fishy,” Rin frowned.

I think we should give him a chance,” said Hide. “Obviously he’s connected to Roppi, and like, if we can help anybody out in this game, we should.” Rin grunted in expression of her displeasure.

“Oh, Tohsaka-chan, lighten up,” Shirou chuckled.

“There is no lightening up; this is a battle royal,” she frowned.

“I think,” said Konoha, “that I agree with Hide.”

Nodding, the redhead contributed, “There’s enough violence in this game. Let’s unite; can’t we?”

“Ideally,” Izaya piped in, “the remaining players should all unite into one entity. That is, of course, excluding the antagonists. If no one is fighting,” he shrugged, freeing himself from Kaneki’s grip, “there is no game.”

“Exactly!” beamed Hide. “Oi, Rika-chan, what about you? This alright?”

She poked her head out from behind Hide and Rin, and Izaya’s smile dropped.

“Oh, yeah, Rika-chan,” said Shirou, “do you know this guy? Maybe you’ve met him.”

Kaneki could feel Izaya’s apprehension. The half-ghoul was ready to act if anything were to go wrong. For now, he only touched his chin. The information broker and the ten-year-old only looked at one another for a moment before Rika looked away. “I do not,” she said dismissively, and Izaya’s mouth twitched.

Liar,” he uttered.

“Lies?” repeated Konoha, bemused.

“You remember me, don’t you?” He took a step towards Rika, who looked at him without expression. Kaneki narrowed his eyes. “Of course you do.”

“I’ve not met you before,” she said simply. “I’m sorry, Mister.”

A mirthless sneer twisted his mouth. “Don’t lie to me—you know who I am, don’t you?” A new tone had crept into his words, one that filled the others with alarm. “Don’t you?” Before he could grab her, Kaneki’s kagune was wrapped tightly around his torso. Izaya was lifted off his feet and, gritting his teeth, he glared at the one holding him captive.

“I expect you not to hurt or threaten any of our members, if you intend to join us,” Kaneki said lowly.

But Izaya began to laugh again, weak and edging towards hysterics. As the half-ghoul tightened his grip, Izaya grimaced, stopping only to cough out a spatter of blood whose color matched that of the kagune.

“Hey, isn’t that a bit…?” began Shirou, but decided against protesting. Rika made no move to argue the action. The others either stared or averted their eyes as Izaya’s thin, bitter smile spread over his face again.

“There was a guy,” he said, his voice rasping. Kaneki loosened his grip just slightly. Izaya tried again. “…There was a guy; he was a funny guy. I got to see him fall apart, I got to see him scream. I got to see him nearly drown in the wake of his own mess – and it was—the funniest thing—I’ve ever seen—” So consumed was he with his mirth, he couldn’t continue.

“What are you trying to tell us, Orihara-san?” Kaneki inquired coolly.

“The best part,” Izaya said lowly, his hair falling into his eyes, “is that nobody knows who he is. Not even him.” He chuckled hollowly. “Isn’t that funny?” As Izaya gave in, Kaneki released him, setting him on the ground, where he crumpled to the pavement, holding his body as if trying to keep himself all put together. No one had anything to say.

“Sorry, everyone,” said the half-ghoul with closed eyes. “Orihara-san, I can’t have you lunging at people like that. Keep in mind that you are not only a suspicious character, but also a potential traitor. We don’t know you well yet… so please tread carefully, if you value your life.”

“Please…,” said Izaya. “Call me Izaya.”

“Izaya-san, then,” he nodded. He offered a hand to the one kneeling on the asphalt, his kagune shriveling away into his back once more.

Izaya didn’t look at his hand, let alone take it. “…Say…,” he said, kneeling there with his head bowed. “What I need to get back at him… That is, Yato. I wonder, do any of you know if the bodies from the female game are kept anywhere on the game field?”

Everyone looked at one another. What sort of request was that? Only Kaneki did not look up, his eyes overcast.

“That would be…” he said, helping Izaya to his feet anyway, much to the informant’s begrudging surprise, “…the hospital.”

 

Chapter 92: Truth

Chapter Text

 

Welcome!

Yato, limping with Nora close at his side, halted just in the entry gates to the shrine of a god he admittedly didn’t know personally. “Hah, nice find,” he had said upon the sight of it, and Nora had only smiled.

The two looked up to find the static silhouette projected at the doors to the actual shrine building. It spread its arms, and they could make out a crescent of black forming a smile on the Voice’s features. “Yato and Nora,” they said, “it’s a pleasure to greet you here! Allow me to explain the properties of this building, as it has ‘special effects.’ All holy beings are released of limitations regarding healing and regeneration. For any unholy beings, however, these grounds have an adverse effect, and will drain them. Any wounds dealt by an unholy being will still retain all of its healing limitations, and will not heal any faster. That’s all for now, so take care!

After the silhouette had disappeared, Nora spoke, “Isn’t that perfect, Yato? It’s exactly what we need, and the demon’s vessel can’t intervene here.”

He only grunted, edging forward and prompting her to join him.

“Perhaps you should cleanse your wounds with holy water,” suggested the spirit, but he only entered the building with her and parted from her half-embrace, making his way to an empty space on the floor. “After you recover enough, perhaps we should end Izaya Orihara as soon as we can. You will not rest easy until he is dead. You want revenge, and so I think that is a perfect place to start, don’t you think?”

“For now,” he said, “I’ll sleep. That’s what I want.”

Tilting her head, she observed him as he lay there on the wooden flooring. “Alright,” she said. “Surely it will be easier for you to rest here.” Furling her legs beneath her, she knelt beside him, content with their closeness. “Goodnight, Yato.”


Muse took a breath, allowing themselves to relax. They closed their eyes, smiling. “Oh, Durden, you’re not supposed to interact with them. You know that.”

“Nora was the one who talked to me,” Durden shrugged, bringing a mug of fresh black coffee to his lips. “They’d have been led that way either way. Why nag me about it?” And with that, he took a sip.

“I have to thank you for that.”

“My complications are the best complications,” he said, and flashed a smile. “This is starting to get interesting. Only so many players left… We might see the end of this by tomorrow.”

Muse didn’t answer, walking placidly, silently, to their swivel chair in front of the control panels. The setting sun cast a glare in the windows surrounding them.

Durden cocked an eyebrow. “You do know it’s ending soon, Muse. Every story has an ending.”

“Every ‘end’ has an ‘and,’” Muse said abruptly.

The other sighed lightly, closing his eyes as he set his coffee down on a table and crossed his arms over his chest. “Could be that there’s another reset,” he conceded. “After all, A-ya’s pretty damned determined. I can’t blame him. He’s an impressive kid. He kinda fucked up – but he’s still impressive.”

“Impressively fucked up?” asked Muse idly, toying with one of the levers.

“That too,” he chuckled. “I’m just saying, don’t get upset when it’s all over.”

“Of course not,” they said. “I always knew that this was the one.”

“Well,” he said dismissively, stretching, “…whatever you say. I’m actually pretty curious what the others are doing.”

“Understandably so.” Durden couldn’t see it from there, but Muse had begun to grin. “Look at them, utilizing their agency. How cute.”

Stories and stories below them, Greyson and Rainbow discussed things in hushed tones.

“There’s no kind of loophole to cutting ties, is there?” uttered Rainbow.

“There’s an exception to every rule, isn’t there?” Greyson answered.

“An exception to him?”

“Or an exception for him?”

“Can we break the rules?”

“Not even us?”

“What about…”

“…the Harrowing Blade?”

Rainbow touched their chin, while Greyson crossed their arms. They both frowned at nothing. “Shintaro,” said Rainbow, “is getting ridiculous. Can’t we do something?”

“But him and Seidou…” Greyson twiddled their fingers. “I kind of—like them like that.”

“You would,” sighed Rainbow. “But something has to happen, or they’re fucked!”

“That would be fun.”

Rainbow gave Greyson a look. Greyson flashed Rainbow a smile.

When Rainbow didn’t seem to appreciate the optimistic look, Greyson sighed. “Anyway,” they said, “there’s something more important than that.”

“A-ya?”

Us, Rain. Us.” Greyson folded their hands together, eyes averted. “I’ll call Aureus.”

Rainbow shrugged. “Maybe he’ll have some idea?”

“I like this – let’s be productive. We can get something done.”

“Let’s fuck more shit up while we’re at it,” Rainbow rolled their eyes. “Fuuun.”

“Yeah, it is!” Greyson dialed Aureus on their cell, smiling. “You know it, too.” And even though Rainbow agreed in a tone dipped in sarcasm, they began to laugh.

Underground, Aureus hung up the phone after a discussion with the two. “Oh, jeez.” He ran a hand through his short golden hair, looking at the ceiling. “I’m trying, guys. I’m trying…” He leaned back on his own swivel chair, pinching at the bridge of his crooked nose and letting himself fester for a bit. Eventually he looked at the curled-up figure of Seraph, hugging her knees to her chest with her face buried in her bony lap. “Hey…”

“I already know this is a bad end route,” she said lowly. “It has to be. Seidou killed Roppi. Roppi is dead. A-ya killed Suzuya. Suzuya is dead…”

“I miss them too,” Aureus began, but her head whipped up to face him.

You don’t know them like I did.

He pushed back in his chair, rolling away from her with his palms facing her. “You’re right. I’m sorry,” he soothed. “I’m pissed about everything going wrong, myself… but we still got some stuff under our control. I mean, I really hate Izaya, but look how far you’ve got him! He’s, uh, not okay, but that’s okay. If that makes sense. Just don’t make him go completely nuts.”

She frowned deeply at him.

“Okay, maybe he’s already there,” he shrugged, and she huffed, bringing a hand to her forehead. “And at the very least, I’m still emblematic as ever in my influences…”

“It’s Muse’s fault this happened.” Seraph’s voice was hollow. “They know which ones I was closest to.”

Tentatively, he said, “Like Suzuya… or Roppi?”

Muse is practically their KILLER!” she snapped, her voice breaking on the final word.

At the high-pitched high-volume answer, Aureus stared silently, then picked at one of his ears. “You should tone it down just a little, when you’re underground. It’s even louder down here.”

“It’s because they know I helped Roppi save Seidou,” she began with a hitch, her eyes wild. “It’s because they know I was working with you. It’s because I—”

“Nothing is your fault, Seraph—”

“THEN IT’S THEIRS,” she shrieked. “They can die for all I care. They can die. I don’t ever want to see Muse again. I don’t.” She covered her face and furled tighter into herself, and Aureus’s gaze softened in his empathy.

“…Seraph…”

“It’s not like you actually care either. You know what you’ve been like in other routes? You—you’re like Konoha and Kuroha, it’s so drastic. I hate it. How can you really be so nice? How can you care? How could I possibly believe you?”

“I know I don’t,” Aureus answered. He turned from her, gazing distantly into the broken screens that Roppi had shattered however many nights ago. “Maybe I’m not a nice guy at all.”

She didn’t answer. He thought that perhaps she was stifling tears.

“I don’t know them like you did, huh?” Aureus closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair as though the internal weight pressing on him had finally gotten him to show his fatigue. “I know that you can see into their pasts and all; that’s obvious… But isn’t it also true that you know where all of this started?”

She remained silent, but he sensed a new stillness about her.

“I can’t remember the beginning. Neither can Greyson or Rainbow… I’m sure Muse knows, but that’s a given. You—you’re Depth, aren’t you? So for you to be the past, then surely you know the origins of the game, and even, maybe, the origins of all of us?”

She said nothing.

He quieted, his countenance shifting to one of gentle inquiry. A soft desire for truth. “Who are we, Seraph?”

Silence.

“What are we doing?”

Silence.

“And why?”

Somehow, the dim lighting felt for the first time as if it weren’t enough.

Apart from them, Rodd was adjusting his spectacles as he entered a darkened room. A phone screen shone, flickered, and was put out. “I bet you’re wondering,” he said, “why we’re doing this. I bet you’d like to know the truth.”

The person in the dark did not grant Rodd an answer.

The timekeeper pocketed his hands, expressionless. “That isn’t to say that I’ll tell you. Really, I’m just coming to check up on you. Leaving anybody in isolation for too long is unethical.” Rodd’s mouth upturned just slightly at the irony, if only for a moment. Pushing up the glasses on his face, Rodd turned back to the door, making the glass shine with the glare. “I’ve been sent on a mission, I’ll have you know. I use the past tense, but I actually mean that I will be sent on one in the near future. I don’t make sense sometimes. I take pride in this.” He paused. “Anyway, nothing goes past Muse without them knowing. What I’m saying is… well, I guess you can figure it out yourself. You’re pretty smart. You’ve got a front seat to the show, so kind it’s of pointless if you end up losing that privilege.” Rodd stuck one hand in his jacket pocket, using the other to pull his cap just a bit lower over his forehead. His spectacles were cast in shadow. “I guess it doesn’t matter what you do, anyway. In the end…” – from his pocket he raised his pocket watch, ticking softly – “…nothing really matters at all. All things are just concepts, really. Don’t think too hard on that, or you may come to doubt your own existence. I do that from time to time. But I think all of us do.”

Rodd turned from the prisoner, repocketing his watch and holding the doorknob of the open portal with a pause that held something that could have been reverence. For what, the imprisoned couldn’t tell for sure. “We’re all more fragile than you think. You’re the same. Everyone else, too. But actually, I have to admit…” Rodd paused, and the silence filled the spaces with an unidentifiable apprehension. “It’s okay, because I like purple after all.”

He closed the door behind him and locked it without further explanation.


Izaya was, after having accepted the condition of being watched ever so closely, admitted into Kaneki’s group conglomerate. And after considering carefully the implications of this decision, Kaneki slowly led them all to the area where the hospital was. They lodged themselves across the street, everyone but Kaneki taking pause to look at the hospital with its shattered second-story windows, the torn asphalt around it, and the accent of deep red that was only just barely discernable after all the succeeding rain. But Kaneki ushered them all into the small bakery shop facing it, not a word in acknowledgment of the place.

“Aw, what a cute shop,” grinned Hide.

“It’s nice,” admitted Rin. “For resting.”

Shirou smiled.

They got themselves comfortable in the seating area there, Kaneki going around with a gentle smile to check the wellness of everyone, particularly of Rika, Rin, and Shirou. Standing apart from everyone, out of place, was Izaya. He watched them all with a flickering gaze that suggested rapt attention, but his expression was lacking. Hide caught his eye and smiled at him, but Izaya only narrowed his eyes at him, visage otherwise unchanging. Sheepishly, Hide rubbed at the back of his head and laughed, only to be tapped on the shoulder by Konoha, who asked him a question about what a “panini” was.

Kaneki, after making sure all was well with the others, told everyone he would be showing Izaya what it was he wanted to see. He would leave the others here, and they would be back as soon as possible. “If you want to help yourself to the breads and pastries, go on ahead,” Kaneki added mildly. “I won’t be eating dinner with you anyhow. However, Konoha…” He looked at the perpetually hungry android with a scolding frown. “Please do leave some for Izaya-san.”

Konoha blinked. “Oh, alright. I would like to share with him, as well, I think.” He turned his watermelon gaze to the informant, tilting his head. “I wonder… Do you like strawberries, too?”

Izaya quirked an eyebrow, sticking his hands in his jacket pockets. “Not particularly,” he shrugged.

“Oh…” Konoha pondered this. “Sweets?”

“I find them distasteful, in fact,” Izaya smiled thinly.

This saddened the android. “Ah… That was Roppi, of course. You’re different. That’s fine, though. We can become ‘friends’ too, maybe.”

Izaya frowned.

Kaneki gestured to him, signaling it was time for him to show the other the hospital. Before they left, he and Hide looked at one another. Kaneki gave his childhood friend a small nod before he left with Izaya. There was a thick silence up until none but Konoha could hear their footfalls outside. “Okay, you guys aren’t actually okay with this, are you?” asked Rin.

“What?” said Konoha. “Why not?”

“I think it’s better to try and save everyone, Tohsaka-chan,” said Shirou, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“Don’t forget this is still a death game,” she snipped.

“But we’re all allies, aren’t we?”

“I do get a kinda bad feeling about him,” said Hide, bringing his finger beneath his nose and making a somewhat sour face. “He smells like a poisonous person, but also not. I can’t tell, and that’s weird. Like, I can’t even see if he’s good or bad. Makes me nauseous.”

“What, like you’re that good at judging character,” Rin rolled her eyes, and Hide snickered.

“You never know.”

“Still, I know we should be wary of him,” admitted Shirou, and Konoha nodded.

“Careful,” confirmed the android.

“Truly,” Hide said soberly, “I wanted to go with them. But I also know that Kaneki won’t want me to see whatever’s in that hospital.”

The other three in the conversation all looked at one another. “What exactly is up with that hospital?” Rin asked of Shirou, who shook his head.

“I know two people in his group died there…” said the redhead, “…and it was there that Seidou was first transformed to the state he’s in now.”

“Is that so…” Pensively, Hide touched his chin.

It was as they spoke that Rika, sitting isolated just nearby, found her chance to converse quietly with Hanyuu. The lavender-haired goddess lowered her voice even though no one could hear her but the ten-year-old. “Is it really true that you don’t remember Izaya, Rika?”

“I really don’t,” she answered quietly, closing her eyes and cradling the still-shaken Kincho in her lap. Gently, she stroked his head. “Evidently, you do…”

“B-but how is that?” Hanyuu wrung her wrists, eyes wavering. “Surely you remember Izaya Orihara from previous routes, don’t you? Don’t you?”

“I don’t remember him ever being in this game.”

“How?” Hanyuu floated closer to her supposed vessel, eyes wide. “What about in the forest—when Roy…?”

“I take it that Izaya was there?”

Hanyuu didn’t know what to say. “Well… yes.”

“From what I recall, after the serpent demon felled Roy, I tried to end my life. It was A-ya who surfaced from his corrupted self and convinced me not to.”

“It wasn’t!” Hanyuu cried. “It was… It was…”

“Izaya, I presume?”

“Well, I…”

“You seem rather conflicted about this, Hanyuu… Is that so?”

Hanyuu shook her head vigorously. “I hate Izaya Orihara!” She spread her arms. “But you liked him. You did, even to the point where you asked me follow him after he split off—I mean, Rika, I thought it was strange that you didn’t ask me to check on him, but I never imagined that—that… Uu… Uauauuu!” she wailed. “Why did everyone forget him so suddenly? I don’t understand!”

“But you remember him, Hanyuu,” said Rika meaningfully. “Perhaps the game masters? Or maybe… that other god, Yato?”

“I-Izaya did say he had a score to settle with that one.” Her eyes widened. “They do have a particular rivalry with one another. That’s true… Uu… What did he do?”

“More importantly,” Rika said to her in undertones, “if you’re the only one who knows who he is… then I have to ask you: can we trust him?”

She froze. “I…” Hanyuu looked to the door where the person in question had left with Kaneki. “I-I don’t know. I really don’t know.”

Rika sighed, then smiled, opening overcast eyes and creating a rather eerie look of amusement. “At the very least, things are changing. I could never have expected any of this. Are we closer to the ending, then? Maybe, just maybe…” She brought a hand to her mouth, looking at the ground. “The piece that doesn’t fit… could it be?”

Hanyuu drew back with nothing to say.

“Hanyuu…”

The goddess looked at the human child, frowning a small frown with her brow pinched.

“Are you willing to reveal yourself to these people? I do trust them… and regardless, I think I’d like to tell them about the repetitiveness of this game in its entirety.”

“You want to tell them about the other routes?”

“I’m tired of keeping secrets.” And with that, Rika stood and walked towards the others, holding the armadillo in her arms and calling, “Hey, everybody! May I intrude for a little bit? I have something to say, that is so.”

“Is it about Izaya?” asked Rin bitterly, and the child shook her head.

“Not so, but it is of much importance.”

“Oi,” said Hide with a smile, “wanna get up on this table here? Then we can all see you better, how’s about it?”

“Why, sure.”

“Alright, guys, official group meeting going on right here!” called Hide to the other three as he lifted the ten-year-old and set her on a table. Kincho was set on the table too, where he scuffled around for a bit before settling himself at Rika’s feet. “This is super-duper important everybody, so hush up! That means you, Rin-chan!”

“I wasn’t saying anything.”

Rika had to giggle a bit, grateful to Hide for his eternal lightness. “Thank you, Hide.” She looked at the four who were looking intently at her. “In regards to Izaya Orihara, I don’t know enough about him. He is a special case, and so I’d like to relay all of this to you four while he is with Kaneki. At some point, one of you can pass it along to him, but for now, we will be cautious of Izaya.”

“Gotcha,” nodded Hide.

“About this game in general, there’s something I should tell all of you…” She looked at everyone, her eyes fading into something somewhat melancholy. “This isn’t our first time doing all this. We have played this game before, again and again—some of you more often than others. This game has been reset over and over, never reaching its end. I am one of only two players that I know of who remembers these previous timelines. Having said this, we have reached a point where I am repeatedly surprised by new outcomes. After seeing so many similar paths before, this is a very important development. This may well be the end route… and if it is, I want to be able to work together with as many others as possible who know exactly what it is we’re fighting for.

“I am going to work under the presumption that ‘this game does not exist,’ meaning that if this game reaches its conclusion, we will all be able to return home to normality, be we alive or dead. With all of the toying around with time here, I can’t imagine that they would disrupt the flow of time in each of our own realms just for a game.”

Raising his hand, Hide gave an addition in answer to Konoha’s confused look. “For example,” said the bleached-blond boy, “it wouldn’t make sense for ‘Neki and I to be here as we are while Takizawa’s years ahead. Especially when you say, Shirou, that Takizawa was fast-forwarded when you got here… because doesn’t that mean he spent time here before that? And I don’t know that he or I or Kaneki would develop entirely the same way after this game… And on that token, that means we still have a life to go back to.”

Rika nodded. “Just like that,” she confirmed. “There are certain things that have not changed from route to route… and there are also things that are very fickle. Any new recruits aren’t always the choices that were picked, but all original players are the same. Survivors of the female game shift, too, but the original player set does not change at all. The only problem with this is that any player that isn’t part of an original set is always fated to die.”

There was a heavy pause.

“That means,” she said lowly, “that yes… Hide has never made it out, nor has Rin or Shirou.” She looked at Konoha. “I cannot tell whether you count or not, as you aren’t always brought back unpossessed. As for your serpent counterpart, he always dies at least the first time. Whenever you return as you are, he pops up elsewhere, but who he takes as his vessel varies. For all of you, I cannot tell you that your deaths are written in stone, but I wanted to at least forewarn you of its probability… Maybe now you will be more likely to defy fate.” They were all staring in utter silence. Rin swallowed, glancing to Shirou. “My goal now is to find a conclusion to this game. I don’t wish to repeat this any longer and I’m coming to think that perhaps it is not of consequence who makes it to the end so long as the ending includes a shift back to normality.

“The possessed vessel, A-ya, wants to reset the game. He stands against us in that way. No doubt that it was the demon’s idea. Yukiteru, the one that I was with when you found me, may now be heading towards the same end. If so, we need to oppose him.”

Seemingly from nowhere, Hanyuu appeared to them in a stance of hovering urgency. Everyone looked on her in awe. “Izaya, too! That’s right! It could be, after all, that he’s striving for reset!”

“Could he?” Rika asked blankly.

“A spirit?” remarked Shirou.

“A Heroic Spirit?” added Rin.

“Or, uh, that goddess she mentioned?” said Hide.

Oddly, Konoha tried, “Kido?” which none of them could make sense of.

“I am the goddess, Hanyuu,” said the lavender-haired girl, horns at either side of her head. She clasped her hands firmly in front of herself. “It’s a—pleasure to meet all of you. Please treat me well… But—Izaya Orihara, it is true that he is part of the original player set. He has maintained his spot in every single route, but for some reason, everyone else has forgotten about him. L-let me clarify! Izaya was together in a group with A-ya, Suzuya, and Twelve. A-ya and Izaya got along disturbingly well… but anyway, it wasn’t really—that he outright agreed with A-ya’s proposal for reset. But Izaya’s never really been on anyone’s side, and even if at that time he might have still been working towards the ultimate alliance… a lot seems to have happened since then… I can’t tell what his motives are, now.”

Rin crossed her arms over her chest. “This whole situation is really…”

“Yeah, I know,” said Shirou.

“I guess we’ll just have to find out with this Izaya guy,” said Hide, hand to his chin. “I’ve got this feeling that we’re gonna have a real ride ahead of us.”

 

Chapter 93: Underneath

Chapter Text

 

“Hah, so this is the hospital, is it?” Izaya asked, spreading his arms in false comfort as they entered the front doors. “You say the female players are kept here, too? Are they kept in hospital beds, or in the morgue?”

Kaneki sighed, and Izaya’s smile spread. “This hospital is a definite hotspot.” He crossed his arms, looking at the informant pointedly. “Not only are the female players here, but also an items pillar…”

“Oh? Where’s that?”

“The second floor.”

“At some point, might I take a look at that?”

Kaneki nodded and began to walk. Izaya followed. “I’d suppose that Hide’s group may want to go, too.”

“Certainly.”

“Before I show you the morgue, can I ask you a few things?”

“Go right on ahead, Kane-kun. Can I ask a few things, too?” Kaneki gave him a sidelong glance, and he raised his hands. “Oh, fine, fine. I’ll wait; I will.”

“I don’t suppose you knew anyone in the female game?” the half-ghoul asked, and Izaya shrugged.

“Only Celty Sturluson,” he said with a thin grin. “And she won’t be down there. Trust me.”

“If I recall, she was from the same realm as Shizuo…”

Izaya seemed to flinch, and Kaneki glanced at him. Maybe it had been his imagination.

“Also, Izaya-san, I’d like to ask why you chose me to approach, seeing as I don’t know who you are. Is it because I have the greatest alliance in-game right now?”

“Oh, it’s surely that… And unlike the contrary, I know who you are.”

“Tread carefully,” Kaneki warned him, and Izaya laughed that off laugh.

“As if I don’t know! I’ve got quite the experience with your monstrous nature…” Izaya shut his mouth. Ah, so much for treading carefully. Why prod at him?

“I see.” Kaneki didn’t express any displeasure at being called a monster. “Then you know that now that you and I are alone, I can kill you without hesitation.”

“If you really want more blood on your hands,” Izaya shrugged, and winced again.

“If you prove yourself rotten, it would be no great sacrifice.”

“So cold.” Izaya tittered a bit. “But it wasn’t the only reason that it was you who I approached, Kaneki-kun.”

“Oh?” Kaneki didn’t sound convinced, nor impressed.

“The truth is, I’ve never tasted coffee as good as yours.”

The half-ghoul looked back at him, but Izaya was looking intently at the tiles he trod on.

“I can’t imagine why it was any better than the coffee shops I visit at home – in Shinjuku or Ikebukuro or wherever else. It must have been made with utmost patience and care. I consider myself a patient person, but—” – here he released a melodramatic sigh – “…alas, the coffee I make, too, cannot match yours.”

“So you’ve tasted my coffee, as well,” Kaneki remarked.

“At the café, with you, Seidou, Shirazu, and Tsuki.”

Kaneki’s eyes flickered as names of the dead were dropped, but he did not look at the informant.

“Of course half of those people are gone, now. I’m impressed with how far Shirazu made it, really… Bumbling klutz that he was, you’d expect him to be gone sooner.” He paused, bringing a hand to his mouth. Oops. Harsh. “Well, that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what, precisely, did you mean?”

What did I mean?

“Watch your sharp tongue, or I’ll rip it out of your bloody mouth.”

Izaya laughed weakly at Kaneki’s glare. “I’m just saying we should be grateful for the time we had him around, really! He—he died at—at the time that A-ya was playing hide-and-seek, isn’t that so? Isn’t it?”

His eyes narrowed. “That’s right.”

“Then that means that Twelve had been too late, after all.”

Kaneki turned to face him, suspicion written in all his nonverbal communication.

“I’d thought the demon would go after Shintaro, so I went after him instead,” Izaya said, trying to smile slyly even though it looked like a pained grimace-grin. “The snake demon was connected to him, so I wanted make sure that shut-in didn’t perish. That came with a due price, that’s all.” Kaneki’s aura was surely chilling the air. “Well, actually… I don’t know that I went after Shintaro at that time to save him, to be honest. It was kind of selfish, really. Why did I do that? I don’t even know. Probably to use him for something, if I’m gonna come clean here. Maybe I didn’t do anything at all, because apparently I wasn’t involved—but that means none of it was my fault, right?” And he erupted in strained laughter.

Kaneki’s terrible gaze left him for now, and Izaya felt his mouth twitch. “I do believe that you were involved with us before. I don’t know whether that’s a good thing or not yet, but that being said, you must now find your place proper. Will you continue to dance with the devil, Izaya-san? Because should you misstep, you will end up in Hell.”

“I don’t care if I go to Hell,” Izaya said flatly. “I’d rather go there and know that I once lived. I’d rather go there than be forgotten.” A note of bitterness began to surface.

“Look, Izaya-san,” said Kaneki, bringing a hand to Izaya’s shoulder. “I may not remember you, but that does not change that your eyes are familiar to me. If you want a place in this group, you can still find it. You can earn our trust, but you need to deserve it. I’m sorry for this unfortunate circumstance you’re in, but from here on out I’d like to work together with you. In order to do that, you need to keep that tongue in check.”

“This isn’t about fitting into your group anyhow,” Izaya answered simply, pulling away from Kaneki’s hand. “I just need to settle a score, and I can’t do that alone. That’s all. We have common interest, and that’s all there is. We’re using one another as a means to the end we both desire. You can collect all the lost souls you want, Kaneki… but I like to think I don’t have a soul.” He smiled again. “And I know that even if you come to loathe me, I wouldn’t mind one bit. Because even if you hate me, you still won’t end me if you don’t have to.”

“Ah, Izaya-san,” Kaneki answered with a gentleness Izaya didn’t quite expect. “Though it is true that if you make a move to hurt someone from my group, I will swiftly kill you—but you seem to know that much, right? Beyond that, you don’t understand me at all. No matter what it is you do… I don’t have the capacity to hate anyone. Even the ones who have hurt me most, I still…” He paused. “Well. You wanted to see the female players, didn’t you?” And Kaneki continued down the hall and to a door that clearly led to a stairwell leading down.

“I do,” Izaya confirmed, dark. “Shall we, then, Kane-kun?” He could smell iron almost immediately upon entering the stairwell.  The morgue, then.

“Might I ask why you want to see the bodies?” asked Kaneki, but Izaya only shook his head silently as they approached the door, open just a crack. The half-ghoul opened the door, and both of them brought a hand to their faces at the pungent scent that came with it. At the very least, it did not smell of rot. In this playing field, the bodies of the dead were always fresh.

Izaya’s eyes narrowed at the picture of massacre before him. The first sight he could make out was of an eyeless fourteen-year-old girl, her mouth agape in a noiseless scream. To the informant’s distaste, she had no body, either. “How disgusting,” he said, his mouth twisting. He looked back at Kaneki to see that his left eye had become red, its sclera ebony. Izaya barked a harsh, nervous laugh, and Kaneki closed his eyes.

“I apologize. I haven’t eaten for some time.”

“No, no, it is absolutely alright!” said Izaya with clanging cheer, approaching two girls that were oddly intact. “I don’t suppose you made this mess, Kane-kun.”

“No,” Kaneki answered bluntly.

“Probably Seidou then, eh? Last I checked, he was a messy eater.”

“It is most likely the case.”

“Yet look at this! Wonder why he ignored these two.” He paused between them, gazing at two warm-colored scarves covering cold necks. A nameplate was on the ground there between the tables, and he picked it up to examine. “‘Ayano Tateyama,’ huh? A human. From Shintaro-kun’s realm, too… Oh, how interesting! It even says who killed them; how convenient.” He looked around, walking up to where their heads were and peering carefully into their still faces. He noted that Kaneki remained by the door, but only glanced at him before stepping around scattered bones and various body parts. His mouth downturned in deep distaste. Clicking his tongue, he removed the playfulness from his exterior and pulled Akise’s notebook from his pocket, opening it to the pages that had the female names scribbled on it. Much like the information sheets of his own game, the notes had them categorized by group, with ages and three associative words beside each name. Tightening his jaw, Izaya could feel Kaneki’s eyes on him. He felt his mouth twitch. Maybe he was trying to smile. He couldn’t tell.

From his pocket, he pulled the stubby pencil he still had after all this, holding it to the page and marking Rika’s name, and Nora’s, and Maka’s. Minene’s. Celty’s. He paused. To his disapproval, his strokes were wobbly, his hands unsteady. He could not quit his trembling. Doing his best to ignore this, he said to Kaneki, “Oi, I don’t suppose you had any surviving female members join your group—when they first came here, that is.”

“Three, in fact,” Kaneki said coolly. Izaya could feel his scrutiny, and somehow this pleased him. “Two of them are lying in the Emergency Room upstairs. Why?”

“May I inquire their names?”

Izaya looked to Kaneki’s overcast face; he wasn’t looking at the informant anymore. “Akira Mado,” he said. “Saiko Yonebayashi.” He paused, painfully. “And also, Touka Kirishima.”

Marking these names, Izaya nodded. “Thank you. Well then, now it’ll be much easier to identify these bodies. If I’m right, these lovely ladies should be ordered by group… That means you’re Ayano-chan, aren’t you?” He looked at her unmoving face, her red scarf splayed about her like her dark brown locks. “Who were you? Especially to Shintaro-kun…” She did not answer, of course, and so he pocketed his pencil and kept his hand there, his other holding the notebook open. “Forgive me, Ayano-chan, but you’re not who I’m looking for. Maybe you can share your story some other time; I’d love to hear. Trust me.” He scanned his page, devoid of expression. “Lucky, huh… You can only be Hiyori, can’t you?” He looked the magenta-scarfed girl at his other side. “Thank you, Ayano-chan – you may well have saved her body, being so similar in design and all. Come to think of it, Yato and Shintaro do have a weird interest in jerseys, too, don’t they? Totally tacky. They have no sense of fashion.” He leaned over Hiyori Iki’s body, brushing her hair from her pale face. “Hiyori-chan, I’ve heard so much about you… How would you feel, I wonder, to see Yato now? More importantly, I’d like to know how much you mean to him.” Tilting her face to his own, he peered at her in the flickering light. “He won’t listen to me, so maybe you can do the scolding, hm?”

Darkening, he released her chin and roughly shoved the notebook into his pocket. “Rather strange, too – I don’t see a single mark on you. How were you killed, I wonder?” Hands in his pockets, he began prodding at some of the mess with his feet, searching for another nameplate. “Not that it would really matter either way… Now I’m just curious. I don’t suppose you could give me a hint?”

He heard buzzing, a thrum he hadn’t noticed yet. Looking up at the flickering lights with narrowed eyes, he had to presume it was the flow of electricity making the noise. His mouth returned to the state of frowning. The dim atmosphere of the room swathed him, and he got the notion that the air was thicker than he first imagined. The smell of iron clogged his throat, and he was reminded of the charred shell of a house he’d slept in the night before this. As motionless as the dead around him, Kaneki’s presence left Izaya’s realm of perception. There was only the dead, their hands warm and sticky. What a mess he was standing in. There was no way to get out of stepping in blood, here. “Disgusting,” he said again, and shuddered involuntarily.

He looked at Hiyori soberly, his eyes deadening. He imagined a smile on her face, with Yukine and Yato at her side. He tried to imagine what it would look like for them to be together, alive and close and happy. He remembered what it looked like when it was Twelve and Suzuya and A-ya. He envisioned the one named Shinra, together with Celty, together with Shizuo.

Where am I?

Realizing what he was thinking of, he shook his head. He tasted iron, and the nausea that followed this he stifled with another shudder. He felt ill. When, after all, these red splatters would one day be all that was left of any and every one of them, including himself. And the smell, that smell, he couldn’t stand its viscosity, and the way that surely all this stale blood was reminding his own body of how much it had lost because now his head was floating and the dizziness tugged him off of the floor and out of balance…

He thought he heard a female voice: “It’s right there in front of you.”

Izaya caught himself on the table, gripping it tightly with his injured hand and allowing the shooting pain to anchor him there. If I really do go crazy, I don’t think I’d be able to forgive myself, he thought drily. But as his senses returned to sharp focus, his gaze settled on a nameplate cast away on the other side of the room, directly across from himself. Right in front of me, huh? Hah. Funny.

“Izaya-san.” Kaneki’s voice. Izaya’s mouth twitched. He’d forgotten he was there. “Are you alright?” His voice was guarded, but it allowed for concern.

Not answering, Izaya straightened himself and went to the fallen nameplate – that was it! He lifted it with his bloodstained hands, satisfaction plain on his face. “Hiyori Iki,” he said. “Here it is. And to whatever force that let me find this token, thank you very much.” Even more thrilling was what he found on the back of it: that is, the truth of who had killed her.

Nora and B-ko. He let out a low whistle. “That’s just cruel. You’re making this far too easy for me. Jeez! I can’t say I’m surprised, but this is just precious.”

“What’s that, Izaya-san?” Kaneki asked drily, and Izaya set Hiyori’s nameplate back at her feet, where it belonged.

“An ironic form of calamity,” Izaya smiled thinly, returning to Kaneki’s side.

“You’re looking especially pale. Perhaps we should head back to the others.”

“I would like to know, Kane-kun, where the items pillar is…”

“Not now,” said the half-ghoul, but Izaya only added, “Not to go there, no. I’d like its location. You know.” A thin smile again. “In relation to this morgue.”

“Why’s that, Izaya-san?”

His expression darkened. Kaneki couldn’t see his eyes, but a smile touched his lips – gently, now. Wry though it was, it was nowhere near as strained as the other expressions he’d made. “I know,” he said, “what the game masters want from me. I’m going to do it…” It spread over his mouth, not twisting it, but curling it with just a slight edge of irony, or perhaps bitterness. “…But I’m going to do it my way.”

Kaneki looked at him for some time, then sighed lightly, bringing his hand gently to Izaya’s back. “Here,” he said. “Let’s return and rest, first. That’s better for all of us.”

“Yes…,” he agreed faintly. “Let’s.”


“Ah…” There wasn’t much waiting for Yukiteru at the house that held the bodies of Minene and Celty. Looked as though someone had stopped by and bled everywhere. Oh, and they’d picked up Celty’s helmet and set it nicely on her stomach. Other than that, the only movement was the wafting mist of darkness filling the place, still seeping from Celty’s neck. With how smoke-like it was, Yukki was surprised he could breathe.

Standing in the doorway, he became distinctly aware of the setting sun. Before long, it would be dark. He wondered whether it was Izaya that had stopped by. Then he wondered where Izaya was, right then. He wondered whether he was alright. He wondered if A-ya was alright.

The grip Yukiteru had on his cellphone tightened. A-ya…

He opened his cellphone again to see if that person had texted him, but there was nothing new. Frowning, he entered the shadowy air and stood inside the house, opening up the previous messages and reading through them again. “But how do I know it’s real?” His lips thinned. He thought deeply. “Muse,” he uttered, scrolling through one message or another. “And Rodd… Aureus, and Durden… Rainbow and Greyson… Seraph, huh?” He closed the phone with a sigh.

“That makes seven. But there are eight that make it, huh? Why’s that, I wonder? Who’ll it be? A timekeeper, a symbol of symbolism… Bonds of the heart, and something like ‘depth.’ And then…” He paused. Bowed his head. Thought about what Izaya had to say to him. What A-ya had last said to him. What the messages said. And of the fact that Shinichi was dead because of him.

“I didn’t mean to kill him, though,” he said softly, not that anyone would acknowledge his voice. “So would it really be okay to go to them? If I were to apologize, would that really be enough? But—A-ya…” He bit his lip. “I want to be with A-ya more than that… Yet Izaya-san had a point, didn’t he? What’s best for A-ya, really?”

He crouched there in the falling night, Celty’s shadows cloaking him thickly like his own cloak did. “Hey, Minene… Celty, what should I do?” When only silence answered him, he buried his face in his knees. If I really were to care about A-ya, then I’d help him somehow, right? How do I do that? He’s not so far gone that I’d have to—kill him, right? Surely not. Killing, surely, isn’t what the answer is… right? If this game is fake?

I’m so sorry, Shinichi.

He didn’t notice the moon beginning to rise outside, or the passage of time that transpired. He’d been so certain of what he was doing not too long ago. Izaya had shaken him from that, so now what was he supposed to do? “I don’t know what I want anymore,” he murmured, and felt himself trembling. He imagined Minene telling him to quit crying and take some fucking responsibility for once, because really he was nothing but a wimp, and that hadn’t changed at all, had it? This time, his eyes remained dry. How do I take responsibility for this, anyway? What do I do? What am I supposed to do?

The sound of his phone jolted him back to the room he was in, swathed in black. It was darker than black in here. Yukki had never experienced this darkness. It was like fog, and when he tried to look at his screen, it was obscured by it. Flipping open the phone, he brought it closer to his face to see. Oddly, he felt cold.

“Rodd, is…?” Yukiteru stared at the warning on the screen with wide blue eyes. “He’s…?” Looking up, all he could see was more black. Sticking his phone in his cloak, he cautiously stood. His machine gun was at his side. He had the wall at his back. A sound permeated the stillness, and at first, Yukiteru thought it was footsteps. After a moment’s listen, however, he came to realize that it was the sound of a ticking clock that he heard.

He thought to be frightened, then stopped. He was done with that. And so with a wave of his hand, he dispelled the shadows filling the house and cleared them to dissipate outside in the night. Moonlight cast silver onto the one facing Yukiteru, his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. Rodd smiled at him just slightly, and Yukki widened his stance. He had the same look to him, his dark skin lighter under the moon. He still wore the same green-and-white baseball cap.

“What do you want from me, Rodd?” he asked coolly. “Because I don’t want what you have to give me.”

“Who says you have a choice?” Rodd answered easily, staring blankly at him, his wide eyes glowing softly violet. “I’m on a mission.”

“To do what? FastForward me again?” He ran a hand through his hair, putting up a confident front. He wore a smirk on his mouth. “Don’t you think this is cheating, Game Master Rodd? Just going and only sending me forward?”

“The only transitions you will go through,” said Rodd, “are psychological. It would be more of a matter of rules if you were to transition to a different physical state. For example,” – he adjusted his glasses, and they reflected the moonlight – “…Seidou Takizawa was turned into a half-ghoul when he was thrust forward. He had a completely different set of physical capabilities. Touka Kirishima, over the period of time that she traversed, grew physically stronger and far more in control of her abilities. You won’t have any new set of abilities; I won’t send you that far. I’ve told you – I’m good at what I do.”

“If that’s it, then why even bother?” Yukki sniffed, and Rodd blinked at him. With such a deadpan reaction, he thought nervously, it’s hard to keep up a confident act…

“I think that if you were to think on it, you could figure it out.” Rodd shrugged, bowing his head just enough that his baseball cap shrouded his eyes. “You were going in one direction, but where are you going now?”

Yukiteru didn’t answer, only narrowing his eyes. He swallowed.

“I know, you’ve come so far, and here I am about to turn it all around on you. I guess I should apologize in advance, because this time’s gonna be a real kicker.” Rodd smiled, just slightly. It was frightening.

And he was right. Yukiteru understood. He wants to make me into an antagonist, he thought. Then he thought, Is time really my enemy in such a way? “I won’t do what you want me to,” he said, but his voice didn’t sound strong enough to his own ears.

“You couldn’t have ever imagined having friends like Akise, Hinata, and Mao, either, right? Didn’t you tell me something along the lines of, ‘I’d never kill A-ya’? And yet… what was it you told Izaya, just earlier today? Didn’t you insist that you could kill A-ya if you had to? Really…” He paused. “You couldn’t know what the future holds without that diary of yours.” He lifted his pocket watch from his hoodie pocket. “But I know, Yukiteru.” He began to step towards him. Yukiteru looked away from him just a moment to evaluate what he had at his disposal. What would happen if he tried to shoot him? Somehow he felt like that would be a bad idea—

When he looked back to Rodd, he was directly in front of him. Yukki tried to back up, but he was already against a wall. Oh no.

“Was there anything in particular you wanted to say, first?” said Rodd. “That’s a dramatic touch, isn’t it?”

Yukiteru shook his head. “All I want is to be happy alongside A-ya. Is that so wrong? Are you really gonna keep messing this all up? Why?”

Rodd tilted his head. “Who said I was going to take away that possibility? Truly, you could become ‘happy alongside A-ya,’ I’m sure. That’s right.”

“But I want—” he began to protest, but he was already swept off of his feet and into the future, the sky painted a beautiful blue.

Wasn’t it wonderful? To have a group of friends that you cared for, and they cared in return? And even her, Yuno, that crazy stalker of a girl that still managed to love him; they, too, could see the stars together, couldn’t they? Wasn’t that alright? But they didn’t—

Yukiteru found himself waking confused, disoriented and tied to a dirty chair in a bare room, feeling bare himself in only his underclothes. And she was there, Yuno, smiling sweetly with a face that said that all of this was fine, it was alright to be this way even though it wasn’t, this wasn’t okay at all and he tried to protest, he did, but nothing could break him free and she wouldn’t let him go and as days passed and then weeks and no one, nobody came to find him, what was there to do?

He discovered what it felt like to turn off. Shut down. Shut down. How long had that gone on? How long was he trapped there? Was this what she thought ‘love’ was?

It was his friends who woke him up – they came at last, after all that time, and they left all together and he finally, finally had the nerve to reject the one that so tormented him, but at what cost? Would it end here? Was that what he was tasked with experiencing?

But it kept going, and he followed the same cycle. How was it that he always returned to her, and she to him? He had no choice! He tried to get out of it, he did – his friends were his team now, yeah – this was what Minene meant! As allies, they trained together, worked together, and she’d smile at him and encourage him in that disgruntled, roundabout way of hers… And his father; Yukki got to see his father again! Oh, so long since he’d seen his dad, and—

An ambulance gurney, flashing red lights, a bloodstained knife—no, no… Yukiteru, with trepidation running through him, attended his mother’s funeral. How had it come to this? What do you mean, Dad killed Mom? Make it stop; make it…!

It couldn’t get any worse, could it? Couldn’t it? Dad, on his knees. Dad, collapsing dead on the ground with red all around his chest. Yukki felt the feeling of despair that doused him, and the succeeding rage that prevailed. It was not fiery, but made of ice. Things sped up in clean-cut precision, visions too bright and too clear. And then, and then…

When Yukiteru returned to his senses, he was not trembling anymore. His face was wet, he must have cried sometime in the confusion. Rodd was gone. Yukiteru felt hollowed out and pleasantly cool. The night’s temperature was kind. The moonlight shone just the same; he figured that next to no time had passed.

Outside of his perception, Rodd closed his eyes. His work was done for now. He’d picked out someone else’s perception of time to exist in – Kaneki’s, because right now his world turned so slowly. Yukiteru wouldn’t see him anymore.

He was jerked to the side, suddenly, and his eyes flashed open just in time to see Seraph’s hand coming down and striking his face like lightning. Blinking, he brought a hand slowly to his cheek, looking at her in bemusement. Yes, he wasn’t mistaken – there she was, Seraph, her violet hair so dark in the night and her hands clenched at her sides, stance wide. Her thin shoulders were bunched in outrage, her teeth gritted.

“Why slap me now?” Rodd asked mildly. The scene around them had slowed. Yukiteru was still regaining a sense of things, leaning against the wall at the other side of the room. He wouldn’t be able to see nor hear either of them; neither Rodd nor Seraph.

“What are you doing?” she hissed, voice cracking at the last word. “Don’t touch Yukiteru. Don’t touch him.”

“I didn’t touch him.” He shrugged, and she shook her head.

“Doing this for Muse? You think they’ll like you more if you listen to their every command? Huh?”

“Finally coming out of that hatch? Actually doing something?” Rodd adjusted his glasses, unconcerned. “I didn’t really expect you to do much after Roppi died. He was the one you chose to approach, after all.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“If you try to make things messy,” he added with a slight smile, “I could break your legs again. I wonder if you remember that.”

Seraph froze. She did not.

“You talk about Muse like you know them. Somehow, I feel like you’ve gotten them confused with someone else,” he said coolly. “You’re depth, aren’t you? Surely you can help Yukiteru along, right?” Casually, Rodd brushed past her, heading for the door.

“But—”

He stopped walking. He was still smiling.

“He might not make the right choice,” she said.

“Ah…” They both looked over to Yukiteru, who had stirred at last from his thoughts. “So, my parents are dead, too,” he said quietly, thoughtfully. He felt dimly, like his connections had been frayed. “And after that, I…” He trailed off.

Smiling lopsidedly at Seraph, Rodd gave a half-wave and began to leave. “Seraph, you and I don’t have free will. Might as well enjoy what you’re doing rather than reject it and grow to hate your existence. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.” And he left, leaving her alone with Yukiteru, who could not even begin to perceive her transparent self.

Slowly, the cohesion of Yukiteru’s thoughts came together properly, and the situation he was in became clear. Yuno wasn’t in the picture anymore. Minene and Celty were dead around him. Yato, a traitor, was who killed them both. Rika had left; Shinichi was dead. Izaya, whom he had met in passing, had nonchalantly helped him out before heading on his way to Kaneki’s group. And A-ya, he was… He was…

Yukki realized his phone was flashing. He hadn’t noticed, but he had a new message. He must not have heard the ring. He opened this.

[Are you alright?] it said.

Yukiteru merely closed the phone and stuck it in his cloak. Then he grabbed the machine gun and started for the door. Seraph watched him go.


Rainbow leaned in close to their screen, voice lowered into a hopeful whisper: “Go to him, my child. Go to A-ya.”

“I, uh, don’t think Yukiteru’s on his way towards A-ya,” said Greyson, scratching at their arm and quirking a silver eyebrow. “…To be honest.”

“But he needs to,” Rainbow insisted.

“Then get your ass out there and drag him.”

“That sounds like a lot of work.”

“Yeah, well,” Greyson laughed with a note of exasperation, “it won’t happen otherwise, Rain!”

Rainbow was quiet, clutching tightly at their laptop. What a nice room they’d been given. How large, how pretty. All of which they could call their own. “Maybe we should…”

“Um,” said Greyson, tapping at their watch. “I think it might be time to, uh, feed your new pet. We didn’t give him dinner.”

“My new pet,” Rainbow scoffed. “Hah!” Setting their laptop to the side, they got up off of their couch, which Greyson was sitting leisurely upon at the other end. “No, not a pet.”

“I wouldn’t mind calling him that,” shrugged Grey.

“Yeah, well—anyway.” They pulled a plastic cup from a cupboard and put water in it from the sink. They then shoved it into their very own microwave. “He’s getting ramen.”

“Sounds good to me. It’s food.”

“I’m giving him our last one, so he’d better like it…”

“Oh, he will… Besides, we won’t run outta food or anything.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

A quiet settled over the both of them.

“I might go out,” said Rainbow eventually, and the microwave beeped at them. Greyson blinked in surprise. “But would you come with me?”

“Now? At night?”

“Tomorrow.”

“…Go on and feed him.”

“Grey.”

“Maybe,” said Greyson. “Sure. We’ll do that.”

“Okay,” said Rainbow, relieved, and left the room to give the captive their dinner.

 

Chapter 94: Spirits Move

Chapter Text

 

Seidou could feel it. His existence, thrumming in and out. Seidou couldn’t tell whether he was yet transparent, or if he was solid after all. All he could conjecture was that his bones, like a steel frame, were holding him up, holding him together and assuring him of his reality.

He and Shintaro sat in silence. They’d taken up residence in one of the houses along the dirt road and the harrowed one had at least been somewhat helpful, reciting what had happened to Light Yagami when he was harrowed, and how he went through different phases in the same way. “The ‘worst’ of someone is rather subjective, and depending on the situation, it can shift,” he’d said. “So for me, I guess that means I can be numb like I am now, or overwhelmed and suicidal like I was back there.” As an afterthought, he added, “Light didn’t make it. That might be my bad.”

At which Seidou had sighed heavily and ran a hand through his white locks. From there, there hadn’t been much to say, and now they sat with the sun setting and the moon rising, neither mobile nor talkative. What was there to do? What was there to say?

A cannibalistic maniac named Seidou Takizawa, who had once been leader of Group 2, had kidnapped Shintaro Kisaragi, a former teammate. Seidou didn’t care for anyone else’s well-being, of course, and now Shintaro was harrowed by a god-forsaken blade that drew out the worst in that dastardly shut-in. Apparently the only thing that could purify him was bonds of the heart, or something cheesy like that.

To put it simply, the situation that they were both in sucked. Shintaro was screwed, and Seidou…

The half-ghoul, who had been perched casually, immobile, on one of the dining room chairs while staring to his bored-looking hostage, lowered his head to his knees, jaw tightening. Shintaro hadn’t moved from his position, his elbows on his knees and his head bowed low. Seidou heard him utter an offhanded, “Maybe they really won’t come looking after all. Ha, ha…”

Seidou dimly remembered how it felt for a voice to tell him, “Takizawa, you understand, don’t you? No one will come to save you. There’s no point screaming. No one hears you. No one cares.” Ah, so smoothly that doctor spoke. So painfully believable.

He sure was a dick.

But anyway.

Slowly, he peered over his knees with his one good eye. Oh, that was right—Shintaro had stabbed him in his ghoul eye. His senses continued their cycle. There was someone in a red jersey sitting over there, a nuisance that was his hostage. His face was blurry; he didn’t mean anything anymore. Seidou couldn’t afford for him to. Indeed, Seidou couldn’t even feel himself. If they meant something, then it would be vivid—and it would be Shintaro over there, looking at the ground with eyes so profoundly lost. And Seidou, he was distinctly aware of his own body, his frame and from where he bled and how much it didn’t hurt…

Seidou’s pale, thin fingers clutched tighter at his cloak as he raised his head. He could see that other him, again, fading in and out just like he was. The Seidou of the past, the picture of fatigue, he sat there next to Shintaro in the same position, with his elbows on his knees. The difference was that the apparition looked at the harrowed one with eyes that Seidou knew would be filled with concern. His shoulders collapsed as he slumped.

“What can I do?” the apparition asked nobody.

There’s nothing I can do, thought Seidou.

“Even if I tried, it would amount to nothing, wouldn’t it?”

You’re dead, anyway. Seidou closed his eye, perhaps in shame. And me, well…

When he peeked at Shintaro again, the apparition of himself was looking at him. He felt a tremor through him at those brown eyes he once recognized in a mirror as his own. “None of it matters. Really, nothing’s changed at all, has it?”

What’s that, he thought, because even now…

“I’m just not enough,” they said, and Shintaro looked over to Seidou with that deadened face of his. Seidou did not look at him, his hair shrouding his gaze as he stood up.

“What was that?” asked Shintaro, and Seidou didn’t answer. “I didn’t hear you,” he frowned. “I might be going deaf from all your screeching.”

Seidou picked up the machine gun, subdued. Turning the knob, he swung the front door outward. It was dark outside, now.

“Are we heading out?” Shintaro tried again, dull, only to be wordlessly scooped up in Seidou’s arms. “Oi—where are we going, can you at least say that?”

“I’m taking you back.” Seidou’s voice rang hollow.

“Back? To what, Kaneki’s group? I thought you wanted to avoid them like the plague?”

“Don’t you go getting the wrong idea…” Seidou frowned deeply, and Shintaro felt his arms tensing beneath him. “It’s not like I wanna go back to them all. I hate them. You know that.”

“Right, of course,” Shintaro answered flatly. Seidou was already walking out the door with him in his arms.

“I ain’t doing this for you, either, you brat,” he added.

“Okay.”

“But I already know…” Seidou closed his eye. “That I’m not the person you should be with right now. That group…” He paused. “It has that stupid android in it, doesn’t it? You’re close to him, right? And even if that doesn’t work, then surely, Kaneki might…? Or even—Shirou Emiya, I don’t know… I—already fucked up with Roppi, so—at the very least…”

“I don’t want to be around other people,” Shintaro said. “I don’t want to be around anyone at all.”

Seidou stopped walking so briskly just to look down and glower at him. “Little shit.”

Shintaro’s grey gaze was unwavering. “At least I’m honest.”

I’m taking you there,” Seidou said firmly.

“Why?”

“It doesn’t MATTER, does it? Just that it happens—because—because…!” Beginning to fester, he pushed off of the ground and jumped to a rooftop, speeding up the pace and beginning to run. “Whatever happened to Shirazu?” he uttered, and Shintaro blinked slowly. Seidou did not want to think of the orange-haired fellow in two different lights – tasty snack versus teammate of circumstance. He didn’t want to think of the fact that it was Shirazu who put his hand on Seidou’s back that night before the big fight in this game; the one who told him that maybe, just maybe, he should have a talk with Shintaro because it was the right thing to do. He didn’t want to hear his voice anymore, because then he’d have to remember that Shirazu was one of the many that hadn’t made it.

“Mado Akira—is already, dead.” His words were broken. He didn’t want to think of her face in association with the word ‘gentle.’ He didn’t want to think of the color of her eyes, or how they ran with the rain. He didn’t want to think about how after everything she had really, truly tried to save him, only to die right there in his arms.

“I—Roppi, is also…” He couldn’t even remember much of the things Roppi tried to say. Where had his words gone? Were they for nothing? Why had he died? For what? Seidou couldn’t even remember having ended him. He only knew it was fact, and for that, oh, what had he done?

Shintaro could not make out Seidou’s face, but he could see the liquid running down his cheeks, tainted red. The harrowed one did not wish to think on these people either. Shintaro could not think of Shirazu and him finding connections through their silences, so soon before the orange-haired one had died. He could not think of the way he’d come to the realization that Akira was just like him, but so much more admirable. He could not think of Roppi, period, but in fleeting images of bitterness. It was blockaded from his prefrontal cortex. His memories were filled with static.

Furthermore, he could not look into the face of Seidou. He did not want to. The idea brought a tightness to his chest that threatened to asphyxiate him.

I’m not made to be a hero,” said Seidou. “You were wrong to ever think so.”

Shintaro felt something pierce him—like a blade, perhaps? Or a branding iron to his torso, reaching inside of him and marking him with regret.

“I can’t even take responsibility for my own shit,” said the half-ghoul that held him. “And that’s what’s gotten you here. Hurting or not, you were becoming a new person. To change you back to something like this, that’s murder. It’s—different than… than those other people… whose faces, I can’t even recall. I can’t—even tell you… what my mother looked like, anymore. And that’s why…”

Shintaro closed his eyes. He didn’t want to look. His veins were buzzing with something hot. He became aware of the air beneath him, and gripped onto Seidou’s cloak. “Hey…”

I’m taking you back, damn it!” Seidou snapped. “This is RIDICULOUS, and if you seriously protest after all that, I’LL FUCKING SLAP YOU.”

“No, I…”

“I don’t give a shit what you say… Let me just do this one thing.”

“No, that’s not it, though,” Shintaro tried again.

“What?” he asked bitterly. “What is it?”

“I’m trying to tell you—to quit crying.”

What? I’m, not—”

“Y-you’ll make me cry, too.”

Seidou halted in his tracks, and Shintaro choked out an eh— at the sudden stop. The half-ghoul looked down at him, and Shintaro stared back up at him with wide, frantic eyes. “Uh,” said the shut-in. He shuddered, then tried to smile. “I-it’s okay, Seidou. I still believe in you.”

“What the fuck,” said Seidou. He squinted at him with his single eye. “You can’t be serious…

“About… what now?” Shintaro paused. Seidou continued peering at him, daring to wonder what was going through his head. “Oh my god.”

“What is it.” Seidou spoke quickly and shortly.

“Oh my god, I—I stabbed you in the eye!” He began to squirm. “Ohhh, that’s so bad, oh jeez, did I really do that? W-wait—whoa—” He clutched tighter to his captor, suddenly panicked. “W-wait a minute, we’re pretty high up, aren’t we? When did we—how long have I—?” He began to wail pathetically, trying and failing to keep his composure.

Seidou just stared at him for a moment. Then, “You’re an asshole.”

“Huh?” Shintaro looked nervously at Seidou, but the half-ghoul’s brow was furrowed deeply, a pained smile touching his mouth. The red-jerseyed one was scrambled in thought, disoriented and shaken. He was worried to find that his memories since being taken away were blurred and patchy. That never happened to him. He remembered everything. Literally.

But seeing Seidou smile again like that for the first time, it really looked like it was still the Seidou he knew. And so he smiled weakly in return, mumbling something like, “Thank you.”

“For what?” sniffed Seidou, looking away with a visage now of stubborn irritation. “I didn’t do anything. I—was just sick of how you were acting. I wasn’t worried.”

“Was I that bad?” asked Shintaro blankly.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake…,” he said, and – much to Shintaro’s nervous disapproval – began to move forward once again, jumping from rooftop to rooftop.


The unified cluster settled for the night, not necessarily retiring but resting all the same. Shirou offered to make some food, and such an idea was received heartily – by Konoha especially.

Rika, who had gone through quite a lot that day, politely asked if she could go lay down for a little bit while dinner was being prepared. “Good idea, Rika-chan,” chirped Hide. “If you need it, you can just go to bed for the night, you know.”

“I don’t intend to,” she said with a little smile.

“Well, don’t you worry anyway,” the bright one beamed. “I’ll make sure the others keep it down.”

“You’re the loudest one here,” Rin pointed out irritably, and Hide laughed.

“Oh, I guess you’re right!”

Rika glanced over at Izaya Orihara, but he refused to catch her gaze.

And so, with Kincho held close, Rika went up to the second story where all the bedrooms were, settling herself in the smallest one she could find. She lay there for some time, staring at the ceiling without expression, keeping one hand on the armadillo curled up beside her.

“I’m sorry, Kincho, for all the misfortune,” Rika said quietly, and the armadillo raised its head. She petted his forehead, and he nuzzled her hand before curling up again. Rika sighed, and closed her eyes. Hanyuu was quiet. She had nothing to say. Even if she were to ask, “What will we do?” she knew that Rika wouldn’t have an answer yet.

And was there even an answer to give? For now, it sounded as though it was a time for merrymaking downstairs. Perhaps they would all go over Izaya Orihara’s proposal after supper. Rika wanted to be there for it, in any case. She wanted to know exactly what he was plotting. Then maybe she could see whether it was an idea for better or for worse. The fact that she couldn’t remember his existence disturbed her. To think, the work of a god would…

Rika heard the familiar sound of a water droplet falling into a well, and felt Hanyuu go rigid nearby. The ten-year-old opened her eyes calmly, and sat up. Waiting for her at the edge of the bed, sitting placidly with her head tilted slightly to the side, was Nora, smiling gently.

“Nora,” Hanyuu said stiffly. But she remained outside of Nora’s perception, choosing not to be seen or heard.

“It sure has been awhile, Rika-chan,” Nora said sweetly, and Rika agreed.

“That is so.”

“How have you been?”

“I doubt you’ve come to me as a former teammate,” Rika responded coolly. Slowly, Kincho backed away from Nora to hide behind the younger.

“So it seems that you’re at last showing your true colors, hm?” Nora seemed pleased.

“As you have, yourself,” she answered in kind. “That being said, I hope you don’t expect to be warmly welcomed by me.”

“Oh?”

“You told us you had a hand in Maka’s death. And for what? We three were all in the same group.”

Nora brought a sleeve to her mouth. “It would be inconvenient for me to belong to more than one person in-game, at that time. That’s all.”

“That ended her life. Does that mean nothing?”

“Correct.” Nora’s eyes narrowed as she smiled again behind her sleeve. “A deed of that sort is child’s play.”

“It matters not how easy it is,” Rika frowned, “but whether your time together held any meaning to you. What of the nights we spent together; the night watches you spent at her side? Do you not remember being wielded by her hand, or calling her Master? Do you remember the others, Minene and Rena and Minatsuki and Tamura?”

“I’m happy to say I do remember them.” Nora giggled. “And I also remember how it felt to be the tool used to kill Maka and Minene both. The true color of blood is the prettiest.”

Rika’s eyes narrowed just slightly. “I now understand the fondness Tamura had for you. The parasite did tell you that you were alike, did she not?”

Discontent flickered in Nora’s eyes, but then she closed her lids. “I prefer not to be compared to a parasite, thank you.”

“Because of you, Roy is dead. A-ya was possessed in the battle that you wrought with Yatogami, on top of that. You ended L, and Celty, and Minene… and likely others beyond that. In Minene and Celty’s deaths, Yukiteru now also may be on the path of destruction. Your sins only continue. You are not pure.”

“If I were to sin,” Nora’s tone dropped frighteningly low, “Yato would feel it in the form of a blight. I have not sinned. This is better.”

“Child of Man,” Hanyuu cut in, revealing herself, “yours and my definition of sin do not align.”

“Ah, so you’ve chosen to show yourself, Hanyuu.” The spirit was suddenly placid sugar and silk once again. She raised her palms to the ceiling. “Of course your definition and mine to not match. Gods cannot sin, can they?”

“They—cannot,” Hanyuu said uncertainly.

“That’s right, only humans can.”

“…Yes…”

“So it’s humans, then, that teach gods what ‘sin’ is. It’s humans that show deities the difference between right and wrong through the experience of ‘guilt.’”

Hanyuu frowned deeply.

“I’m Yato’s guidepost… That is all. If I blight him, he and I know I have done wrong. But I never blight Yato. I never have, in all of our time being together. All these years… Centuries.” She smiled. “Rika, although not a spirit, is like your guidepost,” Nora explained, touching the tips of her index fingers together. “What Rika-chan finds to be just or unjust determines your own morality.”

“Not so,” Hanyuu argued. “Though she is my vessel, we differ on quite a lot.”

Nora only shrugged. “Different realms, different rules. Just as Maka was able to use me as her scythe, or how the snake demon exists at all.”

“Nora,” Rika cut in, and the spirit’s eyes flickered. “What is it you’ve come here for?” Nora frowned, just a bit. “I can only presume that you came for something. If it is another one of your traps, I will see to it that you leave.”

“I know that Yatogami is surely severely wounded by now,” Hanyuu added. “Especially judging by how this group speaks of their last encounter with him. He is unwell. If you are here with treacherous intent, I will not take you as my own tool. I wish not for you to call me ‘master.’”

Sleeve to her mouth, Nora shook her head. “I am pleased to be Yato’s Shinki. I will stay his Shinki. After all, we are finally together again… And besides, you wouldn’t be a very fun master. You hate violence.”

“Then clarify your intent immediately,” Rika said firmly.

“Well…” said Nora, “…your group tended to Yato’s wounds when I left him for that purpose. You, along with the others…” She paused. “You have spent leisurely time with him. You have nursed him back to health. You’ve known him as the god of calamity that he is, as well as who he is in… milder circumstances.”

“He also betrayed us this time.” Nora did not know what she meant by ‘this time.’ “He still killed Minene and Celty, not to mention whatever happened to the missing Akise.”

Nora skimmed over the mention of the silver-haired boy. “I know,” she said. “I am fully aware. The truth is, I don’t like you very much.”

Rika’s eyes narrowed at such a statement. Where was this going? Was she going to kill her? The thought struck urgency through her, and she felt for the knife at her side – though she had left her original blade in the carnage of the forest, leaving it behind like she left Yukiteru behind, she had been sure to grab a kitchen knife as soon as she was able to. Her fingers curled around the handle. There it was. Safe. She watched as Nora wrapped her arms around her own chest. She looked smaller, now. Younger. Rika thought of the fact that this was a spirit that had died at this age – how old was she when her life ended? Fourteen? It would be only four years beyond me, then. Her eyes narrowed as she contemplated how contentedly Nora slaughtered people.

Rika looked at Hanyuu, and the two of them nodded at one another. Gripping the knife with one hand and cradling Kincho with the other arm, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and got up, looking to the other without much expression. “If that’s all you have to say, then leave us all be.” Hanyuu hovered nearby, eyeing the spirit in case she made any sudden moves. “I intend to find the happy ending to this story.” And she turned away.

“Rika,” said the spirit, and Rika felt Nora’s hand suddenly at her wrist. Rika’s grip tightened on the hilt of her blade; she stiffened. Hanyuu almost separated them, but hesitated, levitating above them. The ten-year-old quickly turned on her, but Rika was surprised to see vulnerable desperation in the Shinki’s expression. Truly, it made her look as young as she was as she hunched forward and shrank, shriveling even as she stared into Rika with wide eyes.

“Help me.”

Rika could do no more than stare at her. This, too, had not yet happened in previous routes.

“This game is scary,” she said. “It’s terrible, and the masters are cruel. Father isn’t here, and I don’t know what to do… Yato could die. I don’t want him to. I don’t want him to disappear. He can’t. But I don’t think I can take care of him on my own… If I don’t do something now, he really might—” She broke off, then shook her head. “I can’t even think of what would happen then. I can’t.”

Rika loosened her shoulders, watching in awe and distant sympathy. Her eyes softened.

“Surely you understand it well enough not to want him to perish. Don’t you?” Nora’s visage was no longer eerie but painfully human. “How can Yato’s death be included in a happy ending? It can’t; it won’t. So please… Just, don’t let your friends kill him.”

They looked at one another for some time. The quiet was heavy; there were words between them not spoken but felt. Rika recalled the recurring proclamation of Maka: “I don’t care how different we all are; we’re in this together. She wondered whether Nora remembered when Maka took a blow for the spirit’s sake when they were ambushed unexpectedly by the Wretched Egg, in Celty’s group. How did Nora feel about that?

Gently, Rika pulled her wrist away from Nora’s hand, cold to the touch. Her burgundy eyes were sharp with insistence, but also filled with something that Rika recognized as an assumption that she would get her way. Sadly, Rika sighed.

“Nora,” she said softly, “how could I justify sparing the life of a deity that has chosen to bring destruction? You wish for him to be in the happy ending, and yet you continue to take others’ lives before the end. If I were try and bring the others to spare him, would you, then, spare every one of us? I’d have to suppose not. You lie all the time. What I’m witnessing is not pure worry but hypocrisy, and I must sadly treat it as such. I will leave the others to decide whether they wish to spare him or not. I will not push them one way or another – that is all I will do for you.

“Whatever his end may be – or may not be – will be due punishment. There will be recompense for your crimes, whether it be called ‘sin’ or otherwise. You are nothing but a catalyst for calamity, yourself. And so, you shall be duly judged. We shall see exactly what the happy ending entails. And if I were to be very clear with you, Nora, the way things are now… you would not be a part of it.”

Rika left Nora standing there, Hanyuu hanging behind and watching her for a bit. The goddess bowed apologetically before she followed her vessel, closing the door behind them both. Alone, the spirit stared blankly after them with something akin to shock. Then she folded her fingers together, bowing her head. Wordlessly, she disappeared again.

 

Chapter 95: Bond

Chapter Text

 

When Yato first came to, he was dimly aware of someone’s presence at his back. Slowly, sensation returned, and his whole body throbbed in tune to his heart. He thought perhaps that he may not go back to sleep after all. Though his head was still foggy, he figured that his thoughts were no longer bogged by feverish heat. A coolness settled; the shrine had done him good. Gradually, his senses sharpened. His eyes opened, just a crack. It was still dark, the moonlight casting enough light to show him the outlines of the wooden flooring.

But as he returned to himself, he realized that it was not Nora that he sensed at his back. Who was it? He refrained from tensing for fear of alerting his intruder that he was awake.

“It’s better that you pretend to be asleep, Yato,” they said.

The god felt his chest straining. Not only for being called out so casually, but for the voice that broke the silence: Yukiteru.

“Because,” said the fourteen-year-old, “if you were to show you were awake, I might decide to kill you after all.” He paused. Yato remained silent. “Yeah… I thought so,” said Yukki.

The floor creaked as the younger leaned back on the palms of his hands.

“I wonder where that Nora girl is,” Yukki commented thoughtfully.

Yato imagined him looking out to the sky outside. Maybe to the moon. Maybe to the stars. He imagined the silver reflecting off of his face like it did the night Yato granted his wish: ‘May your fates be verily intertwined!’ Well.

Yato wondered if Yukiteru had ever been afraid of the dark.

He missed Yukine.

“I guess it’s better this way,” Yukiteru continued. “I wanted to be able to see you again. You left without warning, you know. Why did you kill Minene and Celty?”

Yato could hear his own heartbeat in his ears. His head hurt.

“Don’t worry, I’m not mad anymore. It’s a death game, you know, so people are bound to die. Right? Twelve was right… Eventually you don’t feel it anymore.” He paused. “It’s like that when you kill people too, isn’t it? Eventually not feeling it anymore? Don’t answer that.”

Yato didn’t.

“I’ve made a decision, Yato. I’d tell Rika, but she’s gone now. Not dead, just in another group. I can’t tell A-ya, as much I want to. I know I need to wait just a little bit longer to see him again. But I want to tell someone that I can feel in front of me. Making a statement to whoever is watching me through their screens isn’t as satisfying, and even if I know they’re there, I’d still feel like I’m talking to myself. So… I’m talking to you, Yato. Because you’re a teammate, right? Traitor or not.

“I’ll be honest, I did kind of want to kill you at first. I was all mixed up inside; I didn’t know what to do. If I had been able to do exactly what I wanted right then, I probably would have joined A-ya and killed you together with him. Not that it doesn’t sound appealing right now. Just being clear. I figure it’s okay to talk about wanting to kill you when you killed Minene and Celty. You probably tried to kill Akise, too. If I hurt your feelings anyway, well, you should know better. I’m not all that sorry.

“And anyway, I’m not actually mad at you now. I forgive you. After all, A-ya even said he wanted to kill Akise or anyone else with me if it meant me understanding his side. And I can’t be mad at A-ya even if I wanted to. I can’t even tell if he’s really doing anything for me like he says… or whether he’s just crazy. Probably both. That might be problematic, but at this point, I could care less.

“As for you, why did you kill who you did? You want the game to end; you’re just angry about what’s happened so far. Maybe it’s something else entirely. But it’s not like you did it without a reason. I get it. And how could I really blame you, when I almost went there too? In the confusion, I killed Shinichi. I didn’t mean to.”

Yato felt something close to trepidation. He remembered the forest collapsing all at once. Who else could it have been but Yukki? He’d known that much. But to think he’d killed somebody after all… Not that it meant anything. Ridiculous—he killed someone on accident. Which one was Shinichi?

In his mind’s eye, abysses of pupils bore into him: the gaze of the teen uttering the name ‘Ciel’ under his breath.

Yato didn’t like this one-sided conversation.

“Back then, I’d felt really bad,” Yukiteru admitted. “Finding him after I did that? It was a major mess-up. But I figured there was no going back, and so I started trying to gut someone. Don’t worry; it didn’t work.” He laughed light-heartedly. It made Yato’s skin itch. “I was a little bit freaked out, so I just went nuts. I wasn’t very effective. Maybe it’s for the better. Then maybe I really would’ve started trying to kill anyone I saw. Unless, probably, if it were A-ya.”

Yukiteru paused. Yato didn’t appreciate the uncomfortable silence.

Then, “I don’t feel bad about it now. Shinichi was on accident, anyway. And now that I’ve ‘remembered my future,’ I guess, that doesn’t mean a whole hell of a lot. Minene was right – I’ve seen some weird stuff. And you know, I’ve actually killed a lot of people after all. I know this doesn’t mean much in this context, because in-game I’ve only ever ended Shinichi’s life. That’s it. And talking to you, I’m sure you’ve killed loads more people than I have. I figure this much because at home I actually wrote a list—you know, of everyone’s names. That way, I can remember everybody I’ve ever killed.”

There was a lightness to his tone that Yato tacked as slightly off-putting. Despite the topic of his explanation, he expressed naïve excitement. Like a kid talking about what he wanted to be when he grew up.

“I’m very careful about that. I like knowing who I’m killing,” Yukiteru said matter-of-factly. “That way, I can bring all of them back someday. I know I can bring them all back when I’m god… just like you know that Celty killed the girl named Hiyori, and that was why it was okay to kill her.”

Yato’s breath faltered. He could not see it, but Yukiteru was smiling. The black-cloaked boy stared upwards, his blue eyes reflecting the sky as he looked out the open front of the shrine.

“I’m gonna assume you’ve noticed the flaw in our logic. Celty never killed that girl you like, and I’ve killed people I can’t bring back. We’re justifying things with baseless excuses. Does that matter? Is it bad that right now, I don’t care? In some world, surely, everything is alright. But I’ve realized that I don’t play a hero in a performance with a happy ending. I’m just the main player of a tragedy. What does that mean? Well…” Slowly, Yukiteru got to his feet, the soft sounds of his shuffling reaching Yato’s ears. “I’ve got no reason to falter, now. Only eight people will be making it to the end of this game, you know—if there is an end. And I have to thank you, because you taught me something very important about this game.”

He looked over to the still form of Yato, smiling with a gaze of his own glowing blue intensity. “That being said, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, Yato.” And with that, Yato was left in silence.


“Ah, Rika-chan’s back down!” It was Hide’s exuberant smile that greeted her, and she beamed childishly back at him.

“Ni-paa~”

“Perfect timing,” said Shirou as he pulled a pizza from the oven. “I hope you don’t mind something a little Western. Hide had suggested it.”

“I could have gotten that,” Konoha said, reaching to steady him. Shirou waved him off before limping to a table to set it down.

“Let somebody help you,” said Rin, rolling her eyes. Shirou only rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

“Somebody has a little bit of a complex, isn’t that so?” inquired Izaya, sitting at the counter with his good hand cradling his head by his chin, elbow resting on the table. A smile curled his mouth smoothly. “C’mon, now, Shirou-kun.”

“Ah, well…”

Kaneki glanced over at the informant from his spot behind the counter, grey gaze flickering. It was a look that—wasn’t distaste, at least. It seemed that Izaya Orihara, whoever he was or who he’d been, was beginning to settle in. Where he had been comprised of tense static when he had first approached, he was beginning to relax into a fluid form. Instead of snipping phrases ranging from sugary to bitingly bitter, the words flowed from him like water. His figure had begun melting into a posture of sly confidence. Satisfied, Kaneki supposed they were doing a good job of welcoming him warmly.

Rika seated herself beside Hide, cheerily clapping her hands. “I think it will taste lovely, that is so,” she said.

“Ya hear that? This’ll be great,” Hide grinned, nudging Rin. She sighed.

“Too bad that…” began Izaya, but he stopped, coughing a bit into his hand.

“What was that?” asked Shirou, frowning.

“Nothing, nothing.”

Kaneki gave him a sidelong glance, and Izaya stared at him with sharp red-brown, just a slight cold glimmer of humor hiding there. ‘Too bad you can’t join us,’ it said. But Izaya was the one who looked away.

With a sigh, Kaneki closed his eyes with a smile. Though, he is still pretty troublesome… “Ah, Rika-chan,” he said, turning to the youngest of the group. She perked up with a nii? “Did you want something to drink, as well? The others have picked out their refreshments from the cooler, here.”

“Ah, thank you very much. May I have that iced tea, there?”

“Of course.”

While Kaneki went to get Rika a tea from the cooler, Konoha convinced Shirou to finally sit down next to Rin while the android made his rounds and gave everyone something to eat. Izaya refused the food, much to Konoha’s deep sorrow. “Is it that you don’t like pizza?” he asked.

“I really don’t,” Izaya smiled thinly.

“Man, you shoulda said something!” cried Hide.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” said Shirou, starting to get up before Rin pulled him back to a sitting position.

“It may be best for Izaya-san to eat something lighter, anyhow,” said Kaneki. As he had been carefully brewing coffee since Rika’s leave for upstairs, he poured out a cup and set it gently in front of the information broker.

Izaya looked at him in question, but Kaneki’s warm visage only smiled before he turned away again. Their exchange was one of silence. Frowning, Izaya pulled the glass closer to himself with his good hand. He felt a warmth that he dubbed as unpleasant simply because it wasn’t familiar.

“Shoot – here, man,” said Hide, getting up and crossing over to where the loaves of bread were. “We’ll getchya some bread, maybe with berries or something? Ya can’t go and not eat…” Hide paused, thinking hard.

“I don’t like anything sweet,” said Izaya, closing his eyes.

“What?” said Konoha, shocked. “Why?”

Izaya quirked an eyebrow, as he’d already explained this to the android. “Unlike you, I’m not wired to enjoy everything I taste.”

“Can androids even taste anything?” asked Rin with a frown.

“Yes, I can taste,” Konoha nodded deeply. “I like barbecue best. Mayonnaise is also very good.”

“Those are both dressings.”

Shirou scratched at the back of his head with a weak chuckle. “Any, uh… actual foods, there, Konoha?”

“Oh. Barbecue negima is my favorite,” he commented.

“That’s all well and good,” remarked Hide, “but like, what do we feed Izaya?”

The informant sighed heavily. “You’re making this all so complicated. Makes me sound like a picky kid.”

“This sounds accurate,” Konoha said, and Izaya frowned at him in distaste.

Hide laughed.

“As I said,” sighed Kaneki lightly, “Izaya should be eating something light anyhow. The same goes for Tohsaka-chan, I should say.”

“Oh, I’m fine,” Rin said sourly.

“It really doesn’t matter the content,” Izaya shrugged. “Really, this is all unnecessary. I’ll just have something plain.”

“Alright, bread it is!” Hide beamed.

“I am just glad to eat together with everyone,” Konoha said matter-of-factly.

“I hardly think a bonding session is what we need,” sniffed Rin.

“You’re too sour, Rin, c’mon!” cried Hide. “With your sour and ‘Zaya’s bitter, we’ve really gotta sweeten the place up!”

“Zaya,” Izaya repeated, brow quirked again.

“I must agree with Hide,” Rika piped up brightly, and immediately Izaya darkened. “At least on the premise that Rin is wrong.”

Rin crossed her arms over her chest. “Hey.”

“I think what Rika-chan means,” said Kaneki, “is that we need a little bit of time spent in leisure, isn’t that right?”

“That is so!”

“Gotta enjoy the time we’ve got,” beamed Hide.

“That is,” said Izaya drily, “the time we have left.” He raised his mug. “Cheers.”

Shirou scratched at his cheek. “No need to be so grim, Izaya-san.”

“Well, he’s right,” uttered Rin.

“All the more reason to enjoy every second!” said Hide, and Kaneki nodded, touching his chin.

Just for a bit, Izaya laughed. “True, true.”

“For this, I like times like this,” said Konoha with blank happiness, gesturing around to everyone as he ate. “Making ‘friends,’ and having fun with them. All of you, yes, even Rika and…” He looked at Izaya for a bit, and tilted his head. “…and…”

Izaya drew his lips into a thin line. “It’s Izaya.”

“Yes. That’s right. Izaya.”

Rin snickered as Rika giggled. Izaya only sighed, “How cruel, Konoha-kun.”

“Although,” the android admitted, “it would be nice… if—Shintaro…”

Kaneki closed his eyes. “He’ll come around,” offered Hide, scratching at his cheek. “Hopefully.”

That’s right, thought Izaya idly, sipping at his coffee. Shintaro is with Seidou, last I saw. Not to mention, he tried to shoot me… He set down his mug, quiet. For once, he chose to hold his tongue. He didn’t ask.

“Something will work out in the end, I’m sure,” Shirou said with confidence.

“We are the largest group, that is so,” said Rika. “We seven make up a majority of the players in-game.”

“Yeah, so we should be feeling pretty good about ourselves, huh?” grinned Hide.

“If you count the demon and A-ya as two people,” added Izaya quietly, “we make up half. Is that right?”

Rika blinked. “That is so,” she said after a moment’s thought.

“At the very least,” said Rin, “the odds are in our favor.”

“Perhaps,” Rika allowed.

“Statistically speaking,” agreed Izaya. “But theoretically speaking, the game masters will direct this group to be picked off bit by bit by bit.”

“However,” said Rika, “it is so that the antagonists, too, must be eradicated for the game to end.”

Izaya shrugged. “And how many players can make it to the end? Has that been specified?”

“I don’t—think so.”

“You say ‘bit by bit,’ Izaya,” said Hide, “but do you really think there’s that much time left for this game?”

“I really don’t,” he answered hollowly. “I know there isn’t.”

“Hard to believe this can really be wrapped up so soon,” said Hide. “But actually… I haven’t even been here as long as some of you.”

“Even we original members,” said Kaneki soberly, “have not been here quite so long as Rika-chan.”

You don’t know the half of it. She sighed. “No need to say such things, Kaneki. All that matters is that soon, hopefully, we will find the end.”

“I would like an ending,” Konoha nodded.

“It’ll be quite a show,” said Izaya.

“I guess that was the point,” remarked Hide.

Rin rolled her eyes. “No kidding.”

“But we will be the ones who take the last laugh,” Rika said with conviction, and everyone looked at her tiny self.

“I’ll cheers to that,” said Hide, and they raised their glasses and mugs. Konoha did it with some confusion, but following along with everyone else, he did fine.

“Ah,” said Konoha, cocking his head to the side. He lowered his cup, eyes flickering. “But there is sound.”

“Sound?” repeated Shirou.

Kaneki held up a hand, and everyone in the shop went silent. In this hushed moment, even the humans could make it out, utterances beyond the front door which separated them from the outdoors. Upon everyone’s toning down, the voice, too, went dead quiet.

Then a muffled, “For fuck’s sake!

As the door was slammed into and splintered open in one strong kick, all those able sprang into action: Kaneki jumped over the counter and stood between the group and the intruder(s), Konoha turned on his heel to face them, Hide drew his knife while Shirou materialized his own weapons, Rin got to her feet and pointed her arm in preparation of firing curses… and so on. Even Rika gripped at the hilt to her knife, while Izaya slipped his hand over the hilt of the Prophet. Izaya, however, did not turn to face the door.

And Seidou burst inside, practically throwing Shintaro at the conglomerate’s feet. The NEET staggered, almost falling over at the sudden launch. It was Konoha who jumped to steady him.

Take him, damn it!” hissed Seidou. The group at-arms seemed confused as to whether or not to remain on-guard. The cloaked half-ghoul indicated Shintaro with a single black-nailed index finger, his mouth twisted into a scowl. “He’s nothing but a burden, the fucking shut-in; just take him back!”

“We so did not agree to this!” cried Shintaro.

“There’s nothing to agree on!”

“What are you talking about?” cried the shut-in. “I thought we literally just had a bonding moment! Didn’t we?” He paused. “Di—didn’t we?”

“Seidou,” said Konoha, the first of the larger group to speak. The half-ghoul glowered at the android, and he shrank under Seidou’s bitter gaze. “Th…thank you for bringing Shintaro back.”

“Don’t bother,” Seidou scoffed, and turned back to the door to leave.

Shintaro looked befuddled and hurt. “Seidou, you can’t seriously—”

Kaneki gripped Seidou’s shoulder to stop him. He froze. Again, no one spoke. Silently, the two tortured souls made an attempt at communication.

“W-wait,” said Shintaro, suddenly frightened. He raised his hands to everyone. “D-don’t attack him. He’s—uh—okay, now. Kinda. I think. Really! I mean… uh, I’m still alive… so.”

“Kaneki, what are we supposed to do, here?” asked Rin cautiously.

“Nothing,” he answered. “Lower your arm. There’s no need for any of us to fight.”

Grudgingly, she did so. Shirou’s weapons dissipated. Shintaro sighed in relief. Rika closed her eyes, listening closely to the scene at hand. She’d wait her turn.

“Really…,” said Hide, and Kaneki could feel Seidou tense just slightly under his hand. “Takizawa, man, you’ve got perfect timing! Neki just made some fresh coffee!”

Seidou didn’t answer.

“Perhaps you’d like a cup?” offered Kaneki, tone welcoming.

“Things taste better when you’re with friends,” piped in Konoha. “And, and you are someone… someone they call ‘friend.’”

“Where would you go?” asked Shintaro. “If you were to leave now. Honestly… when clearly they wanted both of us back this whole time.”

“I don’t need any coffee,” Seidou uttered at last.

“Here, I’ll pour a cup,” said Hide, bouncing up and going over to the pot.

“I said—”

“Seidou, just accept the coffee,” said Shintaro, bringing a hand to his forehead.

Seidou was once again silent. Then, jerking from Kaneki’s welcoming grip and turning to face everyone with festering eyes, “Well then, Shintaro, how come everybody’s just having a fucking party when they wanted both of us back?” He glared accusingly at the others. “No one even bothered to look, did they?”

“That’s because,” smiled Kaneki, “I trusted you. I granted you the faith you asked of me.”

Seidou stiffened.

“I knew you would bring him back sometime… that you wouldn’t kill him. I’d like to think I know you well enough to say that much.”

“Why the fuck would you trust me?” Seidou snipped. “Not only am I a traitor, I killed a teammate. Remember?”

“I certainly do.” Kaneki’s voice was subdued, his eyes closed.

“So why exactly—?” began Rin, but Shirou nudged her with his elbow in disapproval.

“I’m really glad,” said the redhead, “to see you in better circumstances, Seidou.” The half-ghoul scoffed. “I really didn’t have long to get to know you, but…”

Hide was beaming as he held out a cup to Seidou, who stared dumbly at it. “Takizawa’s a pretty likeable guy, right?”

“But,” said Rin skeptically, “isn’t he the guy that—?”

“That’s right!” Hide snapped his fingers. “We should properly introduce him to everyone!”

“I never agreed to staying here,” Seidou grumbled. “I don’t need any intros. Really.”

“I think it would be nice,” commented Konoha, and Shirou nodded emphatically. “Why wouldn’t you want to stay?”

Seidou frowned deeply at the android.

Shintaro fiddled with his fingers. “They’re not rejecting you, Seidou. I think we all want you here, so um…”

He looked away. “I… It is true that I want to keep an eye on you, you pathetic twig that you are.”

Shintaro blinked. “I…”

“If I were to leave him be,” Seidou said matter-of-factly, gesturing to the shut-in, “…he might just get himself killed on accident. And that would be just too ridiculous to let go.”

“I mean, whatever floats your boat, Takizawa,” Hide shrugged, and Seidou shot him a look. The human tried holding out the coffee again. Seidou drew his lips into a thin line.

“Ah, speaking of which,” said Kaneki thoughtfully, touching his chin and turning to the hikkiNEET, “…what happened to your arms, Shintaro-kun?”

“Eh?”

Seidou went rigid, blinking his single eye.

Shintaro held up his arms to himself, shocked to discover the sleeves of his red jersey were torn and bloody, his flesh littered with puncture wounds. His grey eyes filled with a mix of fear and curiosity, he said, “I… honestly couldn’t tell you. I—can’t remember.”

Seidou coughed.

Shintaro looked at him. “I-I never forget stuff.”

“Pro…probably because of that blade thing—or whatever,” sniffed Seidou. “Oh well. Too bad.”

“Shintaro got harrowed?” Shirou inquired, concerned.

“And fixed?” added Konoha, tilting his head.

“Y—yeah, it’s a long story. Don’t ask,” Seidou said, clipped.

“Seidou,” said Kaneki, “do you know what happened to…?”

“Well, anyway,” said Seidou, crossing over to Shintaro, “I’ll just have to make sure nothing like that happens again. Right?”

Shintaro furrowed his brow. “Um?”

“Didn’t that happen to him while you were holding him hostage?” asked Rin, cocking an eyebrow.

“Shut up,” Seidou growled.

“If we’re keeping Shintaro,” cut in Hide, “then that means we get to keep you, too, right, Takizawa? I sure am happy you’ve calmed down some.”

“Yeah. Right.”

“Well, hey.” The bleached-blond one set down the cup of coffee and pulled something from his pocket. “I’m just glad to chat with you again, bud. I’ve got something for ya, too.” And he flipped the golden coin he’d gotten from Senji right before Seidou had fought and killed him. Seidou caught it, but looked utterly confused at the gesture. “That was Senji’s. He was the guy you met out in the field. You won that fight… but you know, I think he’d want you to have this one. It’s a good luck charm.”

“I don’t need—” He tried handing it back to Hide, but the human only raised his hands up, shaking his head.

“Keep it. It’s a memento, you know? The kind of thing I wanna pass along here – as a friend. It belonged to someone great, you know?”

“Then why should I have it?” he asked flatly. “Whatever his name was, he’s dead. He can’t say that I deserve it.”

“Yeah,” Hide conceded, “but he gave it to me. I’m talkin’ on his behalf. Besides, according to him, everyone is supposed to take turns being a hero.”

Seidou looked bothered, but grudgingly pocketed the coin in his cloak. “It’s not like I actually wanna stick around, or anything… I’m just—keeping an eye on that one.” He gave a jerking motion to indicate Shintaro. “Mind you, not ‘cause I care or anything, but because he’s—kinda pathetic. And because of that, funny.”

“Wow.” Shintaro slumped. “Thanks, Seidou.”

“Not a problem,” he answered drily.

“Well, perhaps we should tend to those wounds of yours,” said Kaneki, smiling warmly at the NEET. “If you’ll let us, we’ll treat you too, Seidou…”

“What happened to your eye?” asked Rin, squinting.

“Okay, that was this asshole right here—you could have warned me that using that stupid blade would make him into a piece of shit!”

“It was a little bit difficult to explain that to you in the situation at hand,” commented Kaneki, light and perhaps a little bit too happy with Seidou’s frustration. The half-ghoul in question scowled at him. “Ah, seeing as you’ll be staying, Seidou, perhaps introductions are due again? The group has changed since when last you two were here.”

“Well, lots of people that were around are dead now. So.”

“Not what I meant,” Kaneki said calmly, hushing those who’d been ready to protest: Rin in particular, though Konoha seemed about to speak up himself. “There are some new members, you see…”

Shintaro started looking around at the group at hand. Being rather distracted with the situation revolving around Seidou, and by the fact that he was at last re-reunited with Konoha, he hadn’t really taken any time to look at anyone else.

“And Seidou,” said Kaneki, “I really am… glad to have you back.”

Seidou had nothing to say. He festered silently.

Shintaro, meanwhile, had caught the eye of a girl who looked to be seven or eight… no more than ten, maybe eleven. So it was true, having new members. Who was this girl? She seemed familiar, somehow, but why? Her eerily jaded eyes seemed to attempt at communication. He swore that she smiled, just slightly, as she folded her fingers together around a—an armadillo in her lap? She looked like she wanted to say something.

And he noticed, too, the absence of Roppi, and of Akira, even though he already knew they wouldn’t be coming back. He noticed that Shinichi wasn’t there, either.

He felt his recurring hollowness try and swallow him from the inside out, but he shook it off and pointed out in his own head all of the people still around. Konoha and Kaneki were here, waiting for them. Hide, Shirou, Rin. That little girl; an armadillo, apparently; and…

Looking at the bar counter to this bakery shop, Shintaro squinted, bemused, to the one sitting with his back turned, silent. “Wha…?”

Izaya glanced over to the scene at hand, relatively unimpressed. He felt like his intrigue should be far more active than it was at present, but he didn’t know how to fix that, so here he was. Only those he’d interacted with since his last encounter with Yato would know him, so there was no reason to draw attention to himself just yet – at the very least, this had to be a blessing in regards to Seidou Takizawa. He didn’t feel like being literally cannibalized, here.

He noticed Shintaro looking at him, and looked back to his cup of coffee.

Izaya?

Izaya froze. So did everyone else.

Shintaro didn’t notice the surprise registering around him, crossing over to the informant with concerned crimson eyes. Izaya was definitely looking at him now, wide-eyed and baffled. “Ah, what?” was all Izaya could get out.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Shintaro went on, “but I am so glad you’ve caught up to this group. Kuroha and his new body were riding solo last we saw, so I didn’t know if maybe you’d died—totally not the best choices you were making, even though I’m still not too happy with that thing on the balcony, come to think of it—”

OI.” Seidou, bristling, shoved Shintaro to the side and put himself between the two of them. “Who the fuck is this guy? Can I trust him?”

“Huh?” Shintaro blinked at the half-ghoul, who then got right up in Izaya’s personal space.

How do you know Shintaro?

“It’s… a long story,” offered Izaya lamely. Seidou leaned in closer, and he tittered nervously, eyes flicking from Seidou to Shintaro.

“Shintaro-kun…” said Kaneki, touching his chin, “…I don’t suppose you know Izaya, then?”

“Nice, Shin knows him!” grinned Hide.

“Amazing,” murmured Rika, staring with hope-brimmed eyes to the hikkiNEET that was now the center of attention.

“Y-you mean to tell me,” said Shintaro holding up his hands, “that… none of you know who Izaya is?”

“On the contrary,” said Kaneki.

“Not so,” said Rika.

“Just met ‘im,” said Hide.

“Not really,” said Shirou.

“Nope,” said Rin.

“I, don’t think so, at least,” said Konoha, thoughtful.

Seidou was the most eloquent of all: “Why the fuck would I know this weird-ass little Eskimo man?”

“Excuse you,” frowned Izaya, who bit his tongue as Seidou shot him another look.

“Izaya, please tell me I’ve met you,” Shintaro said faintly.

“I mean, I thought so,” Izaya shrugged, “but I’m currently in a predicament where no one seems to remember me…”

“But I—do?”

“I don’t know. Do you, Shintaro-kun?”

“Uh… did you push me off a balcony?”

“He WHAT?” cut in Seidou.

Izaya grimaced. “Ye-e-es, Shintaro-kun, couldn’t you have picked a better example? So your pet doesn’t, well, rip my throat out?”

The others in-group were expressing varying degrees of alarm. There was an awkward pause.

“WHY would you push him OFF OF A ROOF?” demanded Seidou.

Izaya’s smile was thin and strained. “Balcony, actually. But—”

“YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO DO THAT.”

“—Got it. Crystal clear.”

“Actually, I almost did that a few times; I can’t blame you.”

“Wow, thanks, Seidou,” sighed Shintaro. “Anyway.” He gave a straightforward gesture. “You. In group 6. With Yato. Best enemies with Shizuo. We started up an alliance with your group at like, day three.”

“Yes,” Izaya confirmed curtly.

“At that time,” said Kaneki introspectively, “after all…”

“Well, I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” uttered Seidou.

“You’re not the only one who’s forgotten,” offered Shirou, earning only a bitter look from the half-ghoul. Shirou laughed weakly.

“But I’m apparently the only one who remembers,” said Shintaro.

“Wait a minute, did he call me a PET?” Seidou snapped, delayed.

Shintaro brought his hands to his face, exasperated. “Oh my god, Seidou…”

“I’m NOT your pet. I’m not ANYBODY’S pet. No. Nagachika, stop laughing or I’ll—”

“That aside,” Kaneki cut in, “Izaya-san, we now have confirmation for your former alliance with us. This is good news.”

“I think,” said Konoha in blank joy, “it would be a nice feeling to have someone remember you.”

“Says the android with amnesia,” Rin uttered, and Shirou sighed heavily.

“I wonder how something like this would happen, though,” said Shintaro, rubbing at the back of his head. “To think… That’s kinda rough, Izaya, but, uh…”

“Now, now, wait just a moment,” said the not-quite-forgotten informant, holding up a hand to stop him, and then a single ringed index finger after he was silent. “You never forgot me?”

“I don’t think so,” he answered blankly.

“That is, you shot at me with a machine gun knowing who it was you were shooting at?”

Shintaro blinked.

Seidou cocked his head to the side, then looked at his red-jerseyed teammate in question.

“Oh,” said Shintaro, giving a weak smile. “D-did I? I… don’t remember that part.”

 

Chapter 96: End In Sight

Chapter Text

 

Yato was sitting up when Nora returned to him. He was alone. The spirit almost remarked that he looked troubled, but he beat her to the punch: “You look a little put off, Hiiro. Who managed that?”

She blinked, then brought one of her kimono sleeves to her mouth. “I was about to say the same for you, Yato.”

He shook his head. “I’m not put off. I’m thinking.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” He wasn’t looking at her. “Taking revenge, like you said, for Yukine and Hiyori’s deaths… Isn’t that impossible? All that’s left is Kuroha, I guess.”

“And Izaya?”

“I’m making him suffer, hopefully, if he’s still alive.”

“He is,” she said coolly. “I really do think that you should…” She paused, contemplating this.

“Should what? Kill him?”

She closed her eyes. If Izaya was now in the large group with Rika, it may be better to steer as clear from them as possible, but…

Wrapping her arms around the god in an embrace, Nora answered, “I’m not so sure, Yato. He might be dangerous. Perhaps we made a mistake, sparing his life.”

“But he’s suffering the way he deserves, isn’t he?” Yato’s expression darkened. “But actually, I was thinking less about Izaya, and more about Yukki… About A-ya, and about Kaneki. About how I’m really not all that great a person.”

“Yato…”

“No, not like that. It’s not like I’ve done wrong – I’m a god. I can’t make choices that are ‘wrong.’ Bad, maybe. And if I’m as bitter as I’m coming to find as a God of Depravity, I don’t think I can stand a happy ending after all of this.”

Nora’s scarlet eyes flickered in the dark of the shrine, and she pulled away from him a bit to try to look into his face. It was the Yato she knew, that was sure, yet…

“I think I’m actually angry with Kaneki,” he said, matter-of-fact. “After going on about inheriting the depravity of one’s parent, and after becoming that himself… How can he just go back as if it were nothing? Maybe I’m actually jealous; I can’t tell. But I think that I, as a God of Calamity, wish pain upon him.”

“Then, let’s inflict it,” Nora agreed softly.

“We’ll be more careful this time. Maybe he’d get my position if he, like me, lost the person who was ‘the one to return to.’ That can be our target. I don’t know about his ‘Hiyori’… but I can at least take away his ‘Yukine.’ He had a good point, saying that I’d started lashing out when I lost him. I lost both of them. I had nothing left.” He paused, reprocessing once again these cruel realities. “Maybe it’s hypocritical of me to force that pain on someone else… but that’s who I was meant to be, isn’t it? I can only take things away. Last fight, Kaneki told me I was stealing what others held dear because I’d lost that myself. I’ve thought about it, and thought about it… And he’s right. That’s exactly what I’m doing. It’s just what I do.”

Nora tilted her head, just slightly. “Then what would you like of me?”

“Tomorrow, we’ll find them. The one whose name Kaneki shouted when the forest toppled; that’s who I want to take away. Kaneki said he’d lost all of his original team, but as he said, his curse is his kindness. He cares too much. That’s why tomorrow we’re going to kill Hide.”

Nora looked up into him, at the cold gaze that wasn’t directed at her.

“Alright,” she said.


Hide looked up at the ceiling, thinking hard. After Shintaro and Seidou’s return, no one really wanted to settle and retire for the night. Luckily, things were beginning to calm down again, with Rika having requested to speak with Shintaro alone about something urgent. He agreed, if bemusedly, and Rika had taken him upstairs to have their talk. Seidou had tried to join them, but Shintaro had assured the half-ghoul that it was alright. Grudgingly, Seidou had stayed down here with everyone else. Hide wondered what it was that Rika and Shintaro were talking about. He thought perhaps it had to do with him remembering Izaya, like the goddess Hanyuu did. Maybe Shintaro would hear about the goddess, or about the past routes.

Maybe he already knows? Hide scratched at his chin, then closed his eyes, sighing.

Shintaro didn’t know either, at first, why he was being dragged off by this ten-year-old named Rika. He figured it had to do with Izaya, too, but the more he thought about it, the more he wondered why she looked familiar (nobody looked “familiar” to him, he had a photographic memory), and wondered why she had caught his eye in the first place, even before he’d drawn attention to the fact that yes, he recognized Izaya Orihara and had no idea that he was the only one.

But when she took him to her designated room and shut the door, turning to look up at him with eyes so eerily deep, he thought perhaps he knew who she looked like: That lavender-haired girl… the floating one with Izaya right before—well, right before he pushed me off a balcony. That person knew about the previous games too, so then…?

“Shintaro Kisaragi,” said Rika in low, prophetic tones, and Shintaro gulped.

“Uhm… yeah, that’s me.”

“It is,” said the floating girl he’d just been thinking about, appearing out of thin air.

The NEET jumped, startled. “You—so you are…

“This is Hanyuu,” Rika explained simply, gesturing to the floating girl. Hanyuu, who Shintaro now noticed had horns covering her ears, nodded in confirmation. “She is a goddess of whom I am the vessel to.”

“You…?” Shintaro blinked.

“I am the vessel to a deity, somewhat like A-ya is now the vessel to a demon.”

“No kidding,” he said blankly. “So, like…”

“You remember the previous worlds,” said the one called Hanyuu.

“And due to this, I have been trying to find you,” said Rika. “Ever since Hanyuu first met you, I’ve been working towards crossing paths with you, who remembers the previous routes as we do.”

“So that’s what this is about?” He rubbed at the back of his head. “I mean, yeah – I’ve got this going on ever since, um, day five. I’d left my group to run after a teammate – Roppi, that is. Um… It wasn’t like I remembered from the get-go; it kinda got triggered by something, I guess. I’m not sure why it happened. Someone had told me that it had to do with a turning point I had… and that it was Muse themselves that activated it – that is, it was turned on by the mastermind behind this ridiculous game.” The two others merely stared at him in rapt attention, and he swallowed nervously once again. “I was apparently supposed to get something like this back home anyway, ‘cause I’ve got the same kind of ‘reset’ crap going on there… or whatever.” He sighed heavily. “It’s really complicated.”

“I have lived in the June of 1983 for decades,” Rika spoke with solemn understanding. “The fact that this is the first route, here, that we have met, is surely not coincidence. I hold some belief that this may at last be the final playthrough of these games.”

“Maybe,” he agreed faintly.

“If we, who can remember all of our previous failures, can join forces, I have faith that we have the chance at ending this once and for all.” She looked up at him with a look of hope. “Already, things have been going as they never have before.”

“I don’t remember ever being harrowed,” Shintaro commented mildly.

“And Seidou Takizawa has never been brought back into a group after having become the half-ghoul that he is now. At worst, he does not return, and is killed as an antagonist. At best, he retreats and sacrifices himself as a martyr, later.”

Shintaro was quiet, tugging at the collar of his black V-neck t-shirt. Sadly, his beloved jersey had been disposed of, and his arms were now bandaged up from shoulders to wrists.

“Aru Akise has never come in, not in any other route,” Rika added.

Shintaro’s eyes flickered, and he nodded. “That’s right, I remember him…”

“Yes. I also do not believe that this game has ever made it this far.”

“Tomorrow’s the tenth day,” Shintaro nodded, sobered by the thought. There was silence between the two of them for a little while. “Thank you… You’ve got me thinking about something, Rika-chan. This is a game we’re playing, isn’t it? And yet I’ve never thought about it in terms of winning. I guess I just figured I wouldn’t make it—and having seen all of the past routes, I—didn’t really know what to do with the knowledge. Instead of using it to find an ending, I just kinda took at as evidence of hopelessness. But having made it this far, and with you here, too…”

Rika, curious, tilted her head. Hanyuu leaned in closer, but Shintaro didn’t notice, looking somewhere far off.

“When Izaya gives that plan he’s got, we’re gonna discuss some stuff beyond that. We’re going to have to compile all the information we have – about the game masters, and the structure of the game, and how to reach the end… Because you reminded me – this is a game, Rika. And I always come in first.” He gave her a smile, one of sincere confidence, and just for a moment, she felt a sense of certainty. Hanyuu, beside her, clasped her hands nervously together and tried not to vocalize her doubt.

“Let’s try our best,” said Rika closing her eyes. It was here that a knock on the door interrupted them, and all of them turned. Shintaro glanced at the youngest, who nodded. “Come in, it’s alright,” she said, and the door opened to reveal Hideyoshi Nagachika, grinning sheepishly and scratching at his cheek.

“Hey, uh, sorry to interrupt…”

“No, it is quite alright,” said Rika. “We were mostly finished with our talk.”

“What is it?” asked Shintaro, now looking nervous. His confidence was a fleeting thing.

“Well…,” said the bleached blond boy, his eyes becoming overcast. “May I?” he asked, and they gestured to him the okay as he entered the room with them. “Actually, I…” His eyes were averted. “I need to talk to you guys too.”


Kaneki watched Hide head up the stairs, curious but not questioning why his friend had excused himself. “I do wonder…,” he mused.

“Oh, let him do his own thing,” uttered Seidou. He was staring emptily, irately, at the red jersey crumpled and discarded in a trash bin to the side. It had been torn such that there was no point trying to repair it – unless, perhaps, Shintaro wanted to rip the sleeves off and wear it that way. But red—suits him. It’s just weird to have him without any red on. Shoulders bunching around his neck, Seidou pinched at the bridge of his nose, digging his thumb and forefinger into the corners of his eyes. The one that had been stabbed by the scissors throbbed dully in protest.

Maybe I shouldn’t have stayed.

He looked dimly around at the others. The android named Konoha was blankly interacting with the ones called Rin and Shirou. Seidou did not remember Konoha very well, except that he had shown up when Seidou first emerged from having been fast-forwarded. He remembered that his taste was bland.

He did not remember Rin very well, only knew that she was familiar somehow. Vaguely, he recollected flickering images of the one Hide called Senji. He fingered the coin in his pocket. That was right, that man had tried to give this coin to her. With some humor, Seidou wondered whether Rin hated him. Most of him hoped so.

Shirou, though, he remembered distantly. The son of someone named Kiritsugu… Kiritsugu, who had believed in Seidou for whatever reason. But he never became a hero, so what point does that make?

Yet he remembered Shirou saying, “He was my hero.”

And then, Shintaro: “You saved me.”

Seidou looked away from the group image, then, and to the loner apart from those three. Izaya, was it? The fact that Shintaro knew who was but Seidou didn’t made him feel incredibly angry. It certainly didn’t help that this fur-trim-jacket-wearing asshole had a lot of fresh wounds hiding under bandages that Seidou could smell. When was the last time Seidou had actually eaten? He couldn’t remember it, not very clearly in any case. But he knew he was hungry. And he didn’t like being hungry. It sent him to bad places. These game limitations were a real bitch.

He looked at the one called Izaya again – would it be too much of a bad thing if he were to eat him? Well, Shintaro seemed like he might be upset, but…

Seidou watched as Izaya turned to look at him; watched as his vision bled red and he swore it was Roppi he was looking at. Going rigid, Seidou pressed his fingers to his eyes again, baring his teeth behind his palms. Roppi.

When he looked again, he realized that Izaya had never even looked at him. He remained with his back to him. Roppi remained dead and gone.

Seidou felt a little bit less hungry.

“Seidou-san,” said Kaneki to his fellow tortured soul, and Seidou twitched.

“What.”

“Pardon my asking, but are you properly sustained right now?”

It was like he’d read his mind. Seidou didn’t answer.

“Because you see,” said Kaneki, touching his chin, “I’ve not eaten, either, since some time before my last two fights. At this point, I might black out.” A pause. Kaneki chuckled. “I don’t suppose you’re still up to putting me down if I get out of control?”

Seidou stared at him, skeptical. He couldn’t believe it. “You’re kidding.”

“Maybe I am; I can’t tell. But I don’t want to snap and hurt anyone again, either.”

Seidou was silent. So was Kaneki. They listened to Konoha asking whether something called a ‘Noble Phantasm’ could be something cool like an endless supply of food. Whatever a ‘Noble Phantasm’ was.

“That’s not how it works,” huffed Rin.

“I mean, I guess it’s possible,” offered Shirou.

“No, it’s not.”

“That is too bad,” sighed Konoha. “If I were a Heroic Spirit, I would want that as my special power.”

“But that’s not a weapon,” said Rin.

“It could be,” shrugged Shirou.

“Don’t push it.”

Konoha tilted his head. “Push what?”

“Ah, Konoha,” sighed Kaneki lightly, closing his eyes.

Upon glancing up at him from his sitting position, Seidou saw that Kaneki was smiling his Mona Lisa smile.

Seidou frowned deeper. “Hey…”

“Hm?”

“Do you—want to, share dinner?”

Kaneki blinked at him, but Seidou did not look up again. They didn’t need to specify that it was morgue they would go to. As torn apart as it was, there were still scraps to be had. And for now, that was enough. If they really needed to they could eat the parasite, as terrible as that would taste. A gentle look touched Kaneki’s visage. “Sure.”

Looking out to the other four in the room, he said, “Everybody, I’m going to head out with Seidou-san for a bit. We’ll be back soon. Until then, Shirou-kun, would you take charge?”

Shirou straightened. “Wha—I don’t know that I’m suited for something like—”

“Would you rather Konoha be in charge while I’m gone?”

“Well, I mean…”

“Please just do it,” said Rin, and Shirou chuckled, sheepishly rubbing at the back of his red-haired head.

“A-alright…”

Konoha only blinked. Izaya remained silent.

“Alright,” Kaneki gave a knowing kind of smile, now. “I thought as much. We’ll see you all soon. All four of you.” He eyed Izaya. “You’re welcome to more coffee, if you’d like, Izaya-san.”

The informant gave a small un of acknowledgment, but otherwise did not answer. With that, Kaneki and Seidou left for the building across the street.

“To be honest, I’m rather uncomfortable in this building,” Kaneki admitted as they entered the hospital. “I’d imagine you feel similarly.”

Seidou just stared into the lobby, immobile. At the doors to the Emergency Room, closed off and dark-windowed.

Eventually, “Yeah.”

They didn’t talk much, just went to where the stairwell led down to the basement and therefore to their food supply. Upon entry to the morgue, Seidou paused but a moment, uttering an, “Oh, yeah, I left a mess,” before going right over to a girl’s eyeless, decapitated head and lifting it carelessly. “Cheers, Kaneki!” he grinned with a trace of mockery.

Sighing, Kaneki went over to a discarded girl with green locks, carefully parting her left arm from her body. “Cheers, Seidou-san.”

Giddy, Seidou sat cross-legged on the first table in the room, closest to the door. Kaneki leaned against the empty table just next to it, and they faced one another as they ate. Seidou had tipped the head to the side, pinching his fingers in her eye sockets and ripping the maxilla plate from her face. Now, he stuck his hand inside and ate the contents from his hand like Winnie the Pooh might do to honey. “Heads are best. You ever think that brains kinda taste like jam?”

“I suppose,” Kaneki offered. “I don’t often try to compare flesh to human food. I, ah, try to keep myself from being desensitized, to the best of my ability.”

“That’s lame.”

“Not that it works all the time,” he added with a shrug. “My desensitization was inevitable.”

“Right, because really, you’re not about justice and you’re not on any particular ‘side.’ You just wanna keep the ones close to you safe. You’re no selfless hero that acts for the good of some blanket term.”

“Mm,” Kaneki replied, noncommittal.

Seidou licked at his fingers, thoughtful. There was a silence again between them, but somehow, it was comfortable. Between them, the apologies were not spoken, but still understood.

Gradually, Seidou slowed, and lowered his skull bowl. “Do you think… that we belong here? A place like this?”

“How do you mean?” Kaneki inquired, looking to him.

“Both of us…” Seidou smiled, somewhat rueful. “We’re both dead, after all. Here we are, surrounded by corpses. It’s our place, in its own way. Y’know?”

“But yet, they are not trapped here anymore, as we are.” Kaneki closed his eyes. “We can still draw breath, for better or worse. We can still act. We can still change.”

“Nah.”

Kaneki looked at him, but Seidou was just sucking at one of his fingertips, looking away. “Do explain.”

“I think I’ve figured it out. I’m not cut out for this stuff like you are, or like Shintaro is… and so on. I don’t have morals keeping me in place anymore. I won’t take back the crimes I’ve committed.” Solemn, Seidou got to his feet, dropping his finished meal to the bloody ground. “Maybe if I could turn back time, I would. But Seidou Takizawa died a while ago, and I can’t get him back, either, even if I were to want to. I can’t turn back that clock. What’s done is done. There is no going back for me. There just isn’t.”

“Seidou-san, I hope you know you still have a place with us.”

Seidou scoffed, walking past Kaneki and to the two bodies still intact, scarves adorning their necks. “Yeah, I know. And—I’ve already decided how it is I’ll keep living.”

Kaneki discarded his finished arm part and approached Seidou from behind. “Those must be left alone,” he said softly, putting his hand to Seidou’s shoulder. Seidou shook his head. “What is that, then? Your decision?”

“It’s not anything for me to say,” he said hollowly, reaching out in the dim lighting to the one named Ayano. Kaneki politely released Seidou’s shoulder and watched as his fellow half-ghoul faltered. I bet, thought Seidou, that she, too, shone bright. Like Kaneki does now. Like Shintaro does now. Like Amon did. I can’t do anything like that. I can’t spout inspirational phrases or spit certainties revolving justice – an ideal that I can’t believe in anymore. That ideal died with Seidou Takizawa, too, didn’t it?

I’m not striving for anything. I have no future. Not the way I am now. At last, he grasped at the crimson scarf with one hand, gently tugging it from her and unraveling it from her pale throat, removing it from her dark-clothed shoulders. But that’s just it. When your future’s gone to shit and there’s nothing left of you… the only thing I can do is live for somebody else.

Folding the scarf with clumsy care, he turned away from the one problem Shintaro couldn’t solve. Shintaro… please, smile. You’re going to make it home again.

“Well then?” Seidou gestured to Kaneki. “Let’s go back.”

 

Chapter 97: Ruminate

Chapter Text

 

“Did you get this from her dead body?”

Seidou looked into Shintaro’s expression: the shut-in’s visage was dull, brow furrowed with some kind of concern as Seidou held out Ayano’s scarf to him.

“Is that bad?”

“Well, I mean…”

Baring his teeth, Seidou shoved the scarf at him. “It’s yours now.” By the time he and Kaneki had returned from their dinnertime venture, Shintaro had come back down from upstairs with Rika and Hide. Now things were winding down, and Kaneki was now delegating the night shifts with the others.

“Uh—” Shintaro held the scarf bemusedly in his hands, looking pained.

Seidou stared intensely at him with his single open eye. Had he done wrong? “She doesn’t need it anymore, Shintaro,” he pointed out. “She’s dead.”

He flinched. “You’re—right, of course…”

“I mean—by that, I mean…” Seidou looked around for an answer. “She was your hero. Now she can’t be. It’s your turn. So—I think she’d want you to wear it, too.”

Shintaro looked as if he’d been stricken, and Seidou stiffened. Then the shut-in’s eyes began to well and, averting his gaze, he wrapped it around himself. Smiling lopsidedly at Seidou, he said, “Um, thanks.”

Seidou momentarily looked relieved. Then, crossing his arms over his chest, he said, “That’s what I thought.”

“Ah, Shintaro and Seidou,” Konoha piped in. “Kaneki has said that it is time for us to get ready for sleep. Tomorrow, a lot will happen, he says.”

Shintaro blinked. “Oh, that’s right… what time is it?”

“Sometime that is late.”

“No shit,” Seidou growled, and Konoha stared at the half-ghoul. At the look Seidou gave him, he shivered.

“I don’t understand.” His voice was faint.

“Seidou, please don’t scare Konoha too bad,” Shintaro sighed. “Konoha, he’s a nice guy somewhere deep down – he’s just… uh, a little blunt? And—scary. He won’t hurt you, though. Really.” He eyed the half-ghoul in question. “Right, Seidou?”

“No promises,” he uttered. Shintaro frowned at him in disapproval, and he sniffed. “I won’t hurt him. Got no reason. Tastes boring.”

“Is it good or bad that I taste boring?” asked Konoha.

Shintaro sighed. “Probably a good thing.”

“Then thank you very much, Seidou.”

Seidou rolled his single eye.

“Seidou, Konoha is a good friend of mine from back home, remember? He’s a little slow sometimes, but he’s probably got the purest intentions out of anyone.”

“I want to have fun with friends,” Konoha said matter-of-factly. “That is my wish.”

“Right.” Seidou didn’t seem at all impressed.

“And actually, before I go to bed for the night,” Shintaro commented, “I wanted to have a talk with Izaya, if he’s up to it.” He looked over to the counter where the informant still sat, his back to them. “Hm…”

“Why do you wanna talk with him?”

Konoha tilted his head. “Do you mean, alone?”

“I won’t let this one be alone,” said Seidou. “I don’t trust that creep. I’m going with you, Shintaro.”

“Well, I guess that’s fine…”

“Can I also come?” inquired Konoha.

“I don’t know if I should have so many… uh…” Shintaro looked regretfully into Konoha’s hurt expression. “Well…” He rubbed at the back of his head. “I mean—I guess that that’s fine, for all of us to…” He sighed. “I’ll just get myself a drink before I…”

“I can get it,” Konoha said with blank brightness, promptly heading over behind the counter to get something from the fridge. Both Shintaro and Seidou blinked at him, bemused.

“Hey, Konoha,” said Shintaro, “you really don’t need to…”

Neither Konoha nor Seidou seemed to hear. “Oi,” snipped the half-ghoul, “get back here—I can handle that myself!”

“Uh…” Watching them hopelessly, Shintaro breathed a long, weak sigh. “Well, alright then.” Rubbing at the back of his head, he looked over to Izaya. He guess he couldn’t complain that his two friends were arguing over who would get him soda. Shaking his head, he approached the informant.

Izaya was quiet, which Shintaro thought was pretty weird of him. But after all, for some reason everyone else had forgotten who he was, so what could he really say? Well, a lot, actually, Shintaro thought, but shrugged it off. He figured Izaya had a reason to be quiet. He noticed that the mug of coffee in his hands was empty, and that one of his hands was bandaged around the palm. He was still wearing those silver rings on his index fingers, so that hadn’t changed – although they were pretty dirty by now.

“They’re like dogs,” said Izaya.

Shintaro’s eyes flickered in surprise. He guessed Izaya had noticed him at his side after all.

“Konoha’s like the puppy,” Izaya added, and raised his cup just slightly, paused, and set it down on the counter again. Must have remembered it was empty.

Shintaro watched as Seidou made a can of soda explode in Konoha’s face, and sighed yet again. “You’re really right.”

“Of course I am,” he said drily. He paused. “I hate dogs.”

Shintaro’s brow furrowed. “I’m sorry?”

Izaya shrugged.

“Right, um…” He paused. “Hey, Izaya, can I talk with you a little bit? I really want to chat.”

His mouth twisted into a wry, mirthless smile. “Hoh? Why’s that?”

“I dunno—I guess I want a better explanation of what happened with you – I want some catch-up. Because after all, I’m a little bit weirded out that I know who you are, but for some reason no one else does. Did I miss something? Was I supposed to pretend not to know you?”

Izaya gave a short, harsh laugh. “It was an option.”

“Well, how was I supposed to know that nobody knew who you were?” he huffed. “This is all just so weird.”

“Anyway,” said the informant, getting up from his seat. “I wouldn’t mind speaking with you again, Shintaro-kun.” That thin smile was somewhat more familiar to Shintaro, but even though Izaya’s smiles had never once touched his eyes, somehow this look just looked a little bit off in comparison to the visage he’d once worn.

“I guess, uh, we’ll do that upstairs. Apparently Seidou and Konoha want to join, so…” He shrugged lamely. “If that’s fine…”

“Oh, just fantastic,” said Izaya.

“I have your stupid holy drink,” Seidou came in abruptly, holding a can out to Shintaro over the counter. Just behind him, Konoha stood, flustered, with a towel sitting on his head.

“Oh, Konoha…” Shintaro brought a hand to his forehead. “You’ve got soda all over; you can’t just put the towel on your head, you’ve gotta, uh…”

“My, my,” said Izaya.

Kaneki went over to Konoha to help wipe off the soda, looking both humored and apologetic while Seidou merely looked away as if in denial that he’d been the one to cause the mess.

“Shall we?” said the informant, beginning already to walk towards the stairwell.

“I literally just made it back downstairs, too,” uttered Shintaro under his breath, jogging a bit to catch up, then slowing down to Izaya’s pace. “Ugh.”

“You’ve done far more strenuous tasks in this game than stairs, haven’t you?”

“Well, yeah… That’s true.”

Behind them, Seidou followed with the soda, and Konoha trotted after with his soda-soaked towel. Kaneki watched them go, amused. Izaya went and picked a room, where the informant sat simply in a chair while Shintaro stood awkwardly in proper conversational distance. His awkwardness wasn’t helped by Seidou Takizawa and Konoha just behind him on either side. Thoughtful, Konoha pulled a wooden chair from a desk and set it in front of Shintaro to sit at. Seidou glared at Konoha, who looked frightened and confused as to why Seidou was angry. Even more uncomfortable, Shintaro sat down, heaving another sigh. He was gonna sigh a lot tonight, wasn’t he? Jeez…

Once he was settled, Seidou shoved the soda Shintaro had never taken into his range of vision. “Take your fucking soda.”

“Thanks?” He nervously took the drink and opened it with a satisfying hiss. The familiar sound calmed his nerves, if just a little. He took a sip.

Izaya flashed a smile. “What would you like to discuss?”

“Well, I mean…” He tugged at his new red scarf, rather self-conscious with it adorning his neck. “So, uh, why don’t people remember you?”

“Oh, that has to do with Yato.” Izaya averted his gaze, smile already gone.

“Jeez, Izaya, you’re really…”

“Really what, Shintaro-kun?”

“…At the end of your rope, I guess?”

Izaya’s mouth twitched. “Oh, you don’t know the half of it.”

“What rope is he at the end of?” asked Konoha.

Seidou rolled his single eye.

“Um, it’s an expression,” said Shintaro.

“It’s like a pet with a leash,” Izaya smiled that thin smile. “A dog on a rope leash can go only so far before they’re at the end of their rope. I can only go so far before I’m out of options. I can only go so far before my patience wears thin, and we’ll just see what happens after that rope snaps, won’t we?”

“This makes sense,” Konoha murmured, interested.

“Oh, jeez…,” uttered Seidou.

“But whatever happened, the stuff I remember – it still happened, didn’t it?” asked Shintaro, leaning in towards Izaya. “Like, we still allied with you and your group on day three, didn’t we? You had the original plan to, um, fix the Kuroha problem.”

Konoha shifted slightly in blank discomfort.

“You still were the one that found me in hide-and-seek, right? You had the ultimate alliance plan? And, you know… all of that.”

Konoha looked to Seidou to see if he was as confused as he was, but Seidou only looked frustrated, glaring right at the informant in question.

Izaya didn’t seem to care all too much about Seidou’s gaze. “It must have happened. I have to believe so. We both remember it, don’t we? It’s not like I stopped existing.”

Shintaro watched him, waiting for more, but Izaya gave nothing else. He almost sighed again, but stopped himself. Too repetitive. Instead, he crossed his legs, one over the other, and ran a hand through his hair, furrowing his brow. “Look, uh… However this happened, Izaya… well, it’s kind of a questionable position you’ve got yourself in. Me being the only one that remembers, everyone’s kinda looking to me for answers as to whether you can be trusted, and all that. And—no offense, but you’re a pretty questionable person.”

“What will you do?” Izaya asked him, his mouth twisting humorlessly.

“Well, Izaya, what I think I’ll do is—trust you.”

Izaya blinked at him. “Hah?”

Seidou and Konoha looked at one another.

“I think you might have something to your annoying way of doing things – I’m going to say you’re worth trusting. Just… don’t prove me wrong.”

“—Or I’ll rip your throat out,” added Seidou.

Izaya lifted his hands in a show of peace, eyeing the half-ghoul who hovered over the shut-in’s shoulder, one-eyed gaze fixed on the informant. “Alright,” he said. “Alright.”

“Well, um…” Shintaro shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Yeah,” he said lamely. “You know that acting out will get you killed – you’re in a terrible state anyway, and I feel like maybe, just maybe, you might’ve learned your lesson?”

Izaya chuckled ruefully, but didn’t answer.

“And even if not,” Shintaro shrugged, “I feel like we have common interests. I’m just saying, you know, don’t even try to mess with us.”

“Unless you want to be disemboweled,” Seidou added.

Shintaro tried to ignore his ghoulish friend. “Because—if you were to lead us to some kind of trap of your design…”

“…Your life would be over before the ambush began,” Seidou growled.

“…You would be losing the only thing you have left, and—”

“—You wouldn’t even have a pleasant life to flash before your eyes.”

Shintaro frowned deeply, looking up at Seidou’s bitter face. “Stop.

“Why should I?”

“I think,” said Konoha, “that all of that’s pretty scary, Seidou.”

“No shit, that’s the point.”

“I don’t think the point of making friends is to scare them,” said Konoha.

“He’s not our friend.”

“But he is like Roppi. This must mean something. I would like to be his friend.”

“I’m gonna rip your heart out and eat it,” Seidou spat.

Trembling, Konoha said faintly, “But I don’t have a heart.”

Placidly, Izaya watched the scene, folding his fingers together in his lap.

“I already hate this guy’s guts, and I barely know him!” snipped Seidou.

“It seems you used to know him,” Konoha pointed out. “Me too, maybe.”

“I bet I hated him then, too!”

“Well, I think that if Shintaro wants to be his friend, then I also—”

“If he even TRIES to get close to Shintaro, I’ll whack his head off of his shoulders!”

“Does that work like baseball?”

Shintaro’s grip tightened on his soda can; the metal bent inwards. His eyes were closed. His eyebrow twitched.

Seidou stared at the android, uncomprehending. “What?”

“Baseball; do heads work like baseball?”

“Well, I could beat this guy with a bat instead, but that kinda defeats the purpose of me being a ghoul.”

“I see.”

“If he tries to play dirty, I’ll hit a fucking home run—!”

Shintaro couldn’t take it anymore. “Could both of you be quiet?

Konoha and Seidou both clamped their mouths shut.

“The point of this conversation,” snipped Shintaro, “was for me to have a one-on-one with Izaya. Okay? Both of you. Stop.”

“But—”

“Get out of this room and guard the door, or something! I don’t care! Just give me a minute!”

There was a pause.

“Look at that—you heard him, Konoha, you punk. Outta here.” Seidou grabbed Konoha by his white shirt and yanked him along to the door. He shot a look to Izaya. “I’m watching you. Try anything, and you won’t be able to walk.” And they left.

There was a period of silence, the tension slowly draining from the atmosphere. Shintaro took a deep breath… and sighed a long, long sigh. Izaya began to laugh. “What’s so funny?” the red-scarfed one grumbled, tugging irately at the muffler around his neck.

“All of that,” said Izaya. “It was funny. It was just—funny. They both really want your well-being, you know. Very nice.”

“Yeah.” He brought a hand to his forehead. “Nice.”

“So as a note, if ever I get around to considering betrayal, definitely don’t go after you.”

“No kidding…”

Izaya watched Shintaro as he slowly returned to himself, pinching at the bridge of his nose and then slowly lowering his hand. With his other, he lifted his soda, sipping at it tentatively.

“Sorry about that,” uttered the NEET, and Izaya quirked an eyebrow. They were quiet again.

“The reason people forgot me,” Izaya said eventually, “was because of Yato. He severed my ties.”

“Severed your ties?” Shintaro repeated.

“Yes, a real shame.” The informant leaned back leisurely in his chair, creating a sense of nonchalance over his erased existence. “Must have to do with emotional bonds, and fates, and other things in heaven’s jurisdiction. I don’t know. That kind of thing… whether people evaluated me positively or negatively, it’s all gone. The only thing people have to draw on, as people, is memory. We have no records here. And so it’s memory of me that has been wiped out.”

Shintaro had a hand to his chin, nodding and thinking deeply.

“But you,” said Izaya, “who have memory of all the routes previous, remember me. It only proves that Rika-chan most certainly…” He trailed off, looking disturbed and bitter.

“Rika doesn’t remember you either,” Shintaro said quietly. “I just talked to her about it. She has no recollection of you, but, uh… The goddess, Hanyuu, does.”

Izaya didn’t respond.

“I’m not sure, but it probably has to do with the fact that Hanyuu is a deity, and if this was done by Yato, well… The act of a god might not affect another god, you know?”

“And what about you, Shintaro-kun?” he inquired, mouth upturning drily. “Are you implying some kind of god complex? Or is it really true, then, that you’re a monster?”

Shintaro rolled his eyes. “Izaya, you’ve really gotta quit it with all of the talk of monsters. It’s probably gonna offend somebody.”

“I anticipate this.”

“Right. Well, I don’t know about myself, but I mean, now that I have a better idea of what’s going on with my eyes, well… My ability is literally just one of remembering, so it kinda stands to reason that I’d remember you. I got this weird ability by dying – it’s tough to explain; please don’t ask – but I’m pretty sure that whatever’s making my eyes glow red is the same kind of thing that makes Konoha’s eyes red. That means it’s the same kind of idea as Kuroha. Which means—I’m possessed? I guess?” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “I don’t feel possessed. I don’t hear voices, and it’s not like someone else is controlling my body.”

“Maybe you were the demon all along?”

“Izaya.”

“Sorry.” He flashed another dead smile.

Shintaro sighed. “But my point is that if I’ve got a snake in me that’s kinda like Kuroha, at least in terms of… species… uh… If Kuroha can be considered a ‘demon,’ then maybe that kind of power would also negate the power of a god, see?”

Izaya nodded slowly.

“Rika is a human, but she’s the vessel to a god,” the red-scarfed one continued. “She, alone, is human – her goddess is not using Rika’s body to be tangible. Their consciousnesses are not one and the same. So, it makes sense that Rika couldn’t remember you, but Hanyuu could. That being said, the only people that likely remember you are myself, Hanyuu, Yato, and—probably Nora.”

Izaya looked at the wooden flooring.

“But like I was trying to say, Izaya, I’m gonna give you that chance. With Yato’s trick, your slate was inadvertently wiped clean. You can build new ties. We’re not all dead yet. So yeah, I’m giving you that chance. Just don’t make it so that I’ve made the wrong choice.”

Izaya was quiet. Shintaro had nothing else to say. They sat there, facing one another with Izaya’s gaze averted, for some time. The red-scarfed one only waited with mild impatience, tugging at his scarf. He finished his soda and set the can on the ground beside him, careful not to disturb the quiet. He thought he could hear Seidou and Konoha murmuring outside. He thought he could hear Hide’s loud exuberance coming from downstairs, too.

“I, um…” Shintaro shifted. “I think that’s all I really have to say about that, so…”

“I have a record.”

Shintaro blinked at him. Izaya pulled something from his pocket: a small blue notebook. He handed it to the NEET carefully, and Shintaro began to leaf through it, curious. His eyes widened at all of the info. Not to mention – what tiny handwriting!

“It was Aru Akise’s,” Izaya explained hollowly. “I’ve had my share of analyzing his documentation of these games. His theories hold merit, and I’m still in writing. He’s taken notes on me, so I still exist. That’s all that really matters to me. You, remembering all of the resets, will probably make more of this than I can. After all, you’ve met with a game master, haven’t you?”

Shintaro froze, staring. Izaya didn’t look back.

“It only makes sense. I can be wrong; I don’t really care. It’s just adds up. You’re someone who’s definitely designated to reach the ending.”

“What about you, Izaya?”

Izaya didn’t answer at first. “You should keep that notebook,” he said. “I have all I need. Like I told you, you’ll be able to take more from it than me.”

Shintaro held it out to him. “I looked at all the pages. I have a photographic memory, remember? I’ve got a copy of it in my head, now. So here.”

Frowning just a bit, Izaya took it back.

“What happened to Akise, anyhow?”

“We really don’t know.” Izaya closed his eyes. “Presumably he had been killed with Yukki’s group when Yato slaughtered them, but there’s no body to be found. Who knows?”

“Huh…” Shintaro thought about this. “Now, um, Izaya?”

“Hm?”

“What is it, exactly? This plan you’ve got… What will be happening, exactly?”

Izaya’s mouth spread into a dead smile, his eyes overcast; fatigued. “Well, what I have in mind…”


“Tonight, too…” Yukiteru looked upwards, to a sky dark as his ebony cloak. “…I can’t see a single star.”

Sitting with his legs dangling over the edge of the hospital, he began to kick his feet idly. “Tomorrow will really be the day everything happens, huh?” A smile touched his lips, and in the stillness of the night he pulled out his cellphone, flicking open a bright screen. 1 New Message. “I wonder how A-ya is doing…”

He opened the message. [What are you planning?]

“You’ll see,” he said to open air, and laughed quietly to himself. “But I’ll see you tomorrow, A-ya. After what feels like such a long time, I truly can’t wait.”

Across the street from him, the group conglomerate of nine began winding down for the night. By the time Shirou and Konoha emerged onto the café roof to begin first watch, Yukiteru wasn’t in their range of sight. The dishes were done, the downstairs was cleaned, each of the five upper rooms were claimed, and the nine of them settled to rest. Whether the players slept varied, but all of them were fully aware of the day to come, whatever was waiting for them.

Kaneki, courteous of the others’ preferences, decided he’d like to take the lobby itself as his resting place. Hide had tried to urge him upstairs with everyone else, but he’d explained he was more comfortable down low, where he could hear if someone were to sneak in. It was partially true. There was also that he wished for some solitude, and there simply weren’t enough rooms for him to maintain that if he were to be upstairs. Now he lay on his back, on the couch, staring into nowhere with everything to think about and nothing to say.

Upstairs, Rin Tohsaka thought about Shinichi, and how his death made her feel. She thought about him, and about Akira and Roppi. She thought about Senji, and about how Hide had given his only memento to the person that had killed him. She wondered why she felt so bitter about it. She wondered why she felt regret over people who logically should no longer matter, not in a death game. She thought, if for only a moment, that she was playing by the wrong rules. She remembered what the child Rika had talked to them about earlier that day: how players that didn’t start in the beginning had always perished. This disturbed her.

I hope Emiya-kun, at least, can make it, she thought, curling up tighter into herself on the bed and clutching at her abdomen, still wounded. She felt ridiculously feeble. How could she be so pathetic? I can do better than this… And she thought of the boy in the dark cloak who had stabbed her, and the eerie smile on his face. The blankness of his still blue eyes. What was she to make of that? And what kind of person, too, would ask a name like he had? Humanizing the person you’re trying to kill? That was just…

I need to sleep. Tomorrow matters the most. We’ll see then who makes it out alive. Curling tighter, she closed her eyes in the dark.

Rika, next door, was urged by Hanyuu to rest, even as the ten-year-old settled herself in a window seat overlooking the street below – What a view, she thought with some sarcasm. “I don’t wish to lay down,” she uttered to the goddess, despite her protests. Leaning her head on the glass, she thought of all of those that were left. She thought of what the ending might look like. The more she dared to imagine, the further off she drifted. On the window seat, Rika began to sink into slumber.

Sighing, Hanyuu settled herself beside her. “Could we really be that close to an ending?” she murmured to herself. “Somehow, it just doesn’t feel so. Not after so long…” She brought her clutched hands to her chest, brow furrowed deeply. “What is it I should feel, right now?”

In his room, Shintaro decided that he felt apprehensive. Hands cradling the back of his cranium, he gazed into photographic replays of things that varied on a scale of whether he wanted to relive it or not. Mostly, it was things he did not. At this rate, he thought with a sigh, closing his eyes, I’ll never be able to sleep. Not that I’ve slept much anyway in this place.

Turning his head, he looked through the dim moonlight obscured by the window curtains, across the room to Seidou, who was curled up on a cushioned chair in the corner. He looked terribly uncomfortable, but Shintaro couldn’t tell whether it was because of his position, his mood, or just being here in general – be it in relation to Shintaro specifically, or everyone else, or both… Maybe it was a combination of all these things. The half-ghoul had been mostly quiet since everyone started settling in for the night; rather subdued. Regardless, Shintaro was just glad to have him back, however awkward the return was for everyone.

Roppi, we did it, he thought to himself, closing his eyes and biting the inside of his cheek. We brought Seidou back… He figured that Roppi would be happy, too. He’d have to be. I hope that you’re home with Tsuki right now, he added, and tried his best not to cry.

Then there was Izaya, the light still on in his room as he read over Akise’s notes for the umpteenth time. And then read over them again. “I get to see my teammate again tomorrow,” he murmured to himself, and tittered quietly in his solitude. “Yato, will you hate it if I take action like this? Will you be glad? Or will you…?” He was sitting at a desk in the room. He did not finish his question, but instead closed Akise’s notebook, expression falling and eyes losing their luster. “What a fun show it’ll be,” he said.

So, he’d managed to make it into Kaneki’s group. What’s more, Shintaro still remembered him. They were going to follow through with his plan. They were going to do it, all together. Kaneki’s coffee had been simply exquisite. Izaya could not comprehend the warmth of this placement. This group. He distantly wondered why he’d never noticed it before. Even worse was that even now that he sensed it, he still didn’t understand.

It reminded him of Twelve, maybe, or Shinra. Maybe it was that kind of fire, but he couldn’t tell. Whatever it is… Hunching forward, Izaya brought his hands to his face, one over another. …I can’t tell if I like it so much. Alone, he wept. No one heard.

Lastly, there lay Hide on his back, eyes gazing into the dark ceiling. He thought about everything, and nothing at all. How could he put into words these swirling ruminations? He breathed a sigh. Kaneki… Forgive me. Closing his eyes, he turned onto his side and tried to sleep.


The sunrise was red. Perched on the railing guarding the edge of his high-rise building, A-ya stood tall, spreading his arms and catching the wind between his fingers. He could feel the static in his bloodstream and, taking a deep breath, he could feel his smile spreading. Euphoria.

He knew what awaited him today. Excited, aren’t you? said the snake.

Of course…

“This… surely will be the best day of my life,” they said, and watched the sun rise with shining crimson eyes.


First thing in the morning, Kaneki brought a small group to the hospital for use of the items module. His group consisted of Izaya, Hide, Rin, and Shirou. The thought was that Hide and Rin, being the only members left from Group 5, technically, should get a chance with the items pillar, seeing as they hadn’t used this one yet (or any at all, for that matter). Rika was offered to join, but she explained that those that originated from the female game were not input into the system of this game’s pillars. Everyone else was either a part of Group 1 or 2, respectively, and so wouldn’t be able to utilize it. Shirou had only come along after expressing his desire to do so. Probably because Rin was involved.

So the five of them crossed the street and headed to the second floor, where they would find the special items pillar waiting for them. “Ah,” said Kaneki, “what room was it?”

They entered room 2-15. “Say,” said Izaya, “fifteen is the tarot card for the devil, did you know?”

“Indeed,” Kaneki said quietly, while Rin huffed, irate. Izaya was not someone that made her feel at ease.

Glass was scattered over the floor, and the far right wall was destroyed, exposing them to the outside. A pleasant breeze drifted in. Kaneki stared at the empty not-wall for a moment, looking rather distant. No one asked.

Instead, Hide piped up, “So I’m gonna guess it’s that purple-glowing thing smack dab in the middle of the room, right?”

“I’m pretty sure,” Shirou chuckled, scratching at his head. “It sure is weird… This is the first room I saw, in this game.”

“Mm, too bad,” commented Izaya, and though Shirou gave him a look of silent question, the informant did not clarify.

“Do we just walk up to it?” asked Rin, approaching. The pillar activated, and the silhouette was projected, its arms spread wide.

Congratulations!” it cried, and Rin glared at it in disapproval, or perhaps contempt.

Hide gazed in wonder, following after Rin. “Whoa… are you the mastermind behind all of this?”

This is your first items pillar, isn’t it? Rin Tohsaka; Hideyoshi Nagachika.” The silhouette nodded to each of them in turn. They looked at one another.

In the background, Izaya put his hands in his pockets, observing. Kaneki closed his eyes, crossing his arms. Shirou glanced over the other two not addressed by the silhouette before returning to his curious observation of the interaction at hand.

“Hey,” said Hide bluntly, “you know our names, but what’s yours? Can we get an intro?”

I’m a game master,” they answered, and they could just barely make out a thin black smile in the static of deep purple. “Because this is the first time for you two, I will clarify: you may choose one item between the two of you – there will be two items available. You may also choose to ask one question to be answered, but only one. Please note that it’s either an item or a question – not both.

“Oh, so basically I almost used up our turn with this thing, huh?” said Hide, and Rin nudged him with a meaningful look. “What?”

Your selections are now presented to you.” The silhouette lowered their arms and appeared to put their hands behind their back, a patient nonverbal gesture.

Hide and Rin peered carefully into a holographic grey screen, white lettering presenting their options – Senji Kiyomasa and Shuu Tsukiyama were in a dulled grey. One name was blacked out; they couldn’t read it.

“You should select yours,” said Hide, pointing at her ‘crystals/heroic spirit’ option. “I feel like that’s most useful, anyway.”

“But maybe your weapon upgrade could help…,” she protested, and he laughed a bit.

“Getting so considerate all of a sudden? I knew you cared!”

“Oh, come on,” she huffed, and made her selection. Hide shielded his eyes at the bright light following, then tried to squint through it to see what it was that she’d gotten. When the light faded, he could see clearly a single teal jewel in the palm of her hand. He grew mildly concerned at the look of perplexity on her face. After examining the crystal, turning it over and over in her hand, she looked to the silhouette, both questioning and accusatory. “What is this?”

That’ll heal one person’s wounds completely.” The static image shrugged. “It’s not what you were expecting, but certainly far more useful in your case – you’re welcome.

Rin thought deeply on this, looking into the teal stone with her lips drawn thin.

Hey,” said the silhouette, sounding ever so good-natured, “Now you don’t have to deal with your mutilated arm or your ruptured insides.

Rin made her decision. Turning away from the pillar, she tossed the crystal into the air, pointing a halberd with her fingers to Shirou. “You better be grateful for this,” she snipped at his shocked expression.

Hide looked back to the silhouette to catch a glimpse of annoyance etched into its face of static.

After Shirou’s broken leg had been mended, his concussion cured, his bruised gut healed, and his cuts and scrapes sealed; he stammered out a, “Wh—why did you do that, Tohsaka-chan? You could have used it!”

“I did use it,” she sniffed. Before he could protest again, she added, “You’ll be wanting to fight this fight today anyway, won’t you? Injured or not, you’d do it for everyone else.” She crossed her arms carefully, averting her eyes. “You’re stupid like that. So I figure you’d have a better chance if you were—you know, in a better state.”

Shirou opened his mouth, then closed it again.

“C’mon, man,” grinned Hide. “Say thanks.”

“Th…thank you…” She shook her head in mild exasperation as he bowed deeply.

“Aw, an imitation of altruism, how cute,” commented Izaya.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” frowned Shirou.

The informant shrugged. “‘Altruism’ doesn’t actually exist. Rin-chan is learning the concept of ‘guilt,’ or perhaps ‘regret.’ She wants you – you specifically – to be okay. She doesn’t want to lose you, that’s all.”

“Oi…,” she said lowly, but Izaya waved her off.

“Don’t get me wrong. Even Shirou-kun isn’t altruistic. Just because he does things ‘for everyone else’ doesn’t mean he isn’t just trying to make up for something.” Shirou’s brow furrowed as he paled. “Guilt’s an incredibly potent thing—isn’t it, Kane-kun?”

Kaneki frowned.

“You’re just slamming everyone, aren’t you?” sighed Hide.

“I’ve mentioned you need to keep that tongue in check,” said Kaneki, giving the informant a meaningful look.

Izaya closed his eyes. “I’m only being honest. We are, by nature, selfish. It counts for me, too. I’ve been not only selfish, but also a coward. Who am I to think I can love somebody from so far away?” The others quieted. “It wasn’t a pure love, anyway – my love for humankind, for example, was impure at best. That’s why I’m going to be on the front lines for this one.” He smiled thinly, and looked to the static silhouette projected above the items module. “I’d say it’s a bold move – the right move. Isn’t it, Muse? Or is that not-as-planned?” He snickered. “What are you still sticking around for, anyway?”

Because you have the opportunity to utilize this module, too.

“Oh, not yet,” Izaya grinned. “Thanks for the offer, though.” He looked around at everyone else. “I take it we’re all set for now? Let’s head back over. I’d love a cup of coffee. How about it, Kane-kun?”

The other four glanced at one another, but all came to the conclusion to leave. Hide noted that the silhouette – Muse? – didn’t appear too thrilled with Izaya’s talk. And as the five of them were about to exit the hospital, Izaya found himself being pulled back through the door by Hide himself. “Just a sec,” said the bleached-blond boy, and they watched through the windows of the doors as Kaneki, Rin, and Shirou crossed the street.

“What’s this about?” asked Izaya, with a subtle spark of intrigue in his dark eyes.

“I’ve got a question,” Hide answered, and scratched at his cheek. “Sorry for pulling you back and all.”

“I’ve done far worse, Hide-kun, spare your breath. Do explain.”

“Well, I figure you’ve gotta have some idea of what’s going on with these games.”

“Yes?”

“Well, I was wondering…” Hide made eye contact, his visage one of importance. “What do you think would happen if Shintaro were to die?”

 

Chapter 98: Wall

Chapter Text

 

Shintaro stirred groggily – he was the only one still asleep. Knowing that he hadn’t slept much (if at all) the past few nights, the group had made the agreement to let him rest at least until the items pillar group returned from the hospital. Then they would all begin discussing the plans for the day.

It had taken the hikkiNEET awhile to get to sleep – he listened to Seidou get up and leave to do second shift on watch with Kaneki – but by five o’clock he had drifted into a pleasant, dark slumber that offered him only flickering dreams that thankfully wouldn’t be remembered upon waking.

And now, stirring slowly, he opened bleary grey eyes, blinking away fatigue.

“S’about time ya got up.”

Eyes flying wide open, Shintaro let out a yelp as he scrabbled backwards and tumbled off the bed. Perched on the head of the bedframe was Seidou, single eye wide. Watching him struggle to untangle himself from his sheets, Seidou scratched at his head with a bored expression while continuing to crouch there at his perch.

“Did I scare ya?”

“Y—ye-e-es…”

“Oh. That’s too bad. G’morning.”

“Jeez…” Finally, Shintaro sat up, raven hair sticking up every which way.

“Good timing, though,” Seidou commented. “I think that the others will be back soon.”

“The others? Where’d they go?”

Seidou waved in a vague direction. “’Cross the street. Items pillar. Konoha and Rika are downstairs still.” He paused. “And the weird little—whatever.”

“Armadillo?”

“Whatever,” Seidou repeated.

Shintaro rubbed at one of his eyes, wincing as his arm reminded him it was injured. “What—time is it?”

The half-ghoul’s eye narrowed. “Time for you to get your ass up already.” After jumping from the head of the bed to the floor, he added, “I’ll meet you downstairs. Hurry up.”

Bewildered, Shintaro stared after him as he left. It was silent for a few moments. He had yet to gather his bearings. “Alright, then.” He got up, lifting the sheets and tossing them haphazardly back onto the bed before snatching Ayano’s scarf from the bedpost and wrapping it around his neck.

By the time he got down the stairs, it wasn’t just Seidou, Konoha, and Rika (and the armadillo) waiting for him, but also the five that had gone to look into the items pillar across the street.

“Perfect,” Kaneki remarked upon his arrival. “Just in time for breakfast.”

Even though conversation was light and friendly throughout their sharing of muffins and toasted rolls (minus Seidou and Kaneki, who couldn’t partake), and pleasant through the sipping of coffee, tea, and soda; there was a portentous atmosphere thick with the crucial day ahead of them. Shintaro, nervous and feeling slightly claustrophobic with nine people collected in this tiny bakery, kept glancing over at the broken doorframe that acted as their entrance. The sun poured in cheerily, ignorant to their plot, and the door that Seidou had broken was set gently to the side and propped against the far wall. Considering everything, the open space to the outdoors made the NEET a little bit nervous.

Eventually, the moment everyone was waiting for came, and Kaneki called the conversations to an end with his announcement for the commencement of important discussion. It was a quick-falling silence – everyone had been anticipating it.

“As you all know,” said Kaneki, “we will be making a move to put the antagonist Yato to rest today. Izaya-san will explain to us what he has in mind. Please speak up if you have any objections or further ideas. We will do this calmly and rationally, please.” When no one spoke up, Kaneki gave a nod to the informant, stepping back as Izaya got to his feet.

“Pleasant morning, isn’t it, everyone?” Izaya smiled thinly at all of them. Hide grinned and shot a thumbs-up, but no one else seemed particularly thrilled. Shirou, however, offered a weak smile. Suddenly serious, Izaya raised the silver-ringed index finger of his good hand, and began: “I do, of course, understand that I am imposing upon a group that has already been formed and has its own goals to accomplish. I think, in this case, our interests are overlapped. I’m not going to – necessarily – ask you to do anything you don’t want to do. I’m not asking you to kill Yato all by yourselves, either.”

Shintaro shifted uncomfortably and sipped at his soda. He knew a little bit from what Izaya had told him the night before, and wasn’t all too sure he liked the idea.

“Now, if you wanted to kill him, for whatever reason…” – he eyed Seidou, whose glare sharpened – “…then there is one request I have. I’d like to be the one who deals the final blow to Yato.”

“And how do we reach that point?” frowned Rin.

“A plan would help, wouldn’t it?” Izaya flashed a dead smile at her, and her frown deepened. “Not all of you will participate; that’s certain. There will be two main groups… Kaneki and Seidou, you two will be facing Yato up-front.”

“And then we weaken him so, what, you can finish him off?” Seidou looked downright disgusted. “You’ve gotta be kidding. We’re not here to—”

“I’m not asking you to do the dirty work, Seidou-kun, believe me,” Izaya said, giving a short grimace-grin. “Yours and Kaneki’s job are not to beat him senseless – it’s to lure him to the roof of the hospital. I’ll mark the spot – I want one of you to smash him down to the basement.” He smiled again. “Can you manage that?”

Seidou scowled, but Kaneki said, “We can.”

“That is, of course, unless you want to lead him to the morgue by the stairwells,” Izaya shrugged. “That’s fine too. But after he’s down there – that’s where I’ll be – you guys are going to back out. I’ll take care of him from there. You two will return to the others and help out.”

“Help out with what?” Shirou asked blankly.

“I’m getting there. See, Shirou-kun, you and Konoha still have a job to be had. Undoubtedly, there will be interference with this plan from either A-ya-kun or Yukiteru-kun. There’s no question. Yato’s not the last guy to look out for, if you remember. That said, everyone else will be on the roof of this building here, preparing to fight whoever the interference is. Konoha and Shirou will be on the front lines, but Rin-chan can help if she wants. Essentially, the goal is to keep everyone safe on this end.”

Kaneki seemed mildly surprised. “You wish to be left alone with Yato?”

“Yes. I’ll take him on my own from that point on.”

“But you are injured,” Konoha said blankly, tilting his head with distant concern in his expressionless face. “Is that really alright?”

“Yes, if you’ll let me do it,” said Izaya. “This is what I think is the best and only way to end Yato…” He averted his gaze from everyone else, then smiled a closed-eye smile. “And I admit I’m guilty of wanting to settle a bit of a grudge, you know?”

“Can I help?”

It was someone standing in the doorframe that spoke. Everyone froze in their places before turning to look. Yukiteru stood waiting, his hand set gently on the splintered doorframe and a full, friendly smile touching his mouth.

“Y-you—” began Rin, but Yukki ignored her, walking casually into the bakery with wide blue eyes scanning the lot of them. Everyone was suddenly on-guard, half of them jumping to their feet in preparation of attack.

“Nice numbers, here,” commented the newcomer. “No wonder. Oh, and Izaya made it after all; I’m glad.”

“Yukiteru-kun,” Izaya said lightly, his tone expressing his attempt to defuse the situation. “I see you’ve made your decision?”

“What decision?” asked Shirou.

“Can I eat him?” asked Seidou.

“Oh my god—no,” snipped Shintaro.

“Why, is he tasty?” asked Konoha.

No!” hissed the NEET.

“If I may,” said Kaneki, silencing the murmurs rippling throughout the group, “…what would you like with us?”

“Oh!” Yukiteru spoke brightly. “I was wondering if I could help out – you know, since I have a score to settle with Yato too. Oh—right.” He turned to Rin and Hide, and bowed before smiling sheepishly at them. “I kinda messed up. Sorry about all that.”

“Kinda—messed up?” Rin was trembling with rage.

“It was really, truly an accident with Shinichi… Wasn’t it, Rika-chan?” He looked to the ten-year-old imploringly. “I was a little panicked. And then, hearing more people besides, I stopped thinking, and I… Again, sorry. You and Rin both are still injured pretty bad, I bet… In fact, I’d understand if I weren’t allowed here—”

“You’re a liar!” snapped Rin. “You killed Shinichi, and then tried to kill me! If Hide hadn’t been there—!”

“No,” said Rika, quiet but firm. The rest looked at her. “I was there. Shinichi was someone Yukiteru looked up to, for he had protected Yukiteru’s group sometime earlier in the game. He and I were in the midst of an argument, and it was so soon after Yato had killed the rest of our groupmates that—well, he was unstable at the time, and shot blindly into the haze when he heard someone coming. It was unfortunate circumstances that ended Shinichi’s life. Having said this, he didn’t know what to do. Since then, I don’t know…” She looked down at Kincho, who had poked his head up out of her arms. She released him, and he tentatively hopped to the floor and approached Yukiteru, wary.

“He found me after the whole fiasco, actually,” said Izaya, turning everyone’s attention to him. “I had to talk him out of killing me.” The informant gave a short, hollow laugh at this. “But by the end, he had calmed down considerably. Last I’d seen him, he was heading back to the house where his teammates perished – you know where, Rika. Said he wanted to find answers there.”

“And what,” said Kaneki, “are the answers you found, Yukiteru?”

The fourteen-year-old smiled weakly at the half-ghoul. “I found that I was going about it all wrong. Izaya was right, after all – I can’t save anyone by joining them in the dark. In my fear, I almost fell victim to the very paranoia that ended my original group… and someone died because of it. I almost became exactly what I feared in the process. I decided that it wasn’t what I wanted – so that’s why I’m here.”

“So I really can’t eat him?” said Seidou. Shintaro facepalmed, groaning.

“I still don’t trust this,” scowled Rin. “We don’t need any more sketchy teammates! We already have the one who killed Senji here—”

Tohsaka-chan,” Shirou cried.

Seidou stood up, looking down on Rin. “What was that?

“Not to mention killing Roppi,” Kaneki said calmly, and Seidou immediately quieted.

“Calm down, will you?” Shintaro whispered to Seidou, glancing over at the trembling Konoha. Slowly, Seidou sat down again.

“Sorry about all that,” smiled Hide warmly, and Yukiteru cast him a nervous look. “I remember – you looked like you were hurting a lot, when I saw you last. I was kinda worried, too. I’m glad you came around.”

“Ah—thank you.” Yukki scratched at his hair, sticking out at the side. “I almost made the wrong choice.”

“But you didn’t,” said Rika, glowing with hope. Yukiteru blinked and looked down to see Kincho sniffing at him. The armadillo looked up at him, got up on its hind legs, and pawed at his cloak. Distractedly, he picked him up.

“Then—is he part of the group, now?” asked Shintaro.

“If Kane-kun says so,” shrugged Izaya.

Konoha looked at Kaneki. “A new friend?”

Everyone looked at Kaneki, who ran a hand through his white hair, breathing deeply. Looking around at everyone else, Seidou and Rin were the only ones who seemed to be in disagreement. He caught the eye of Rika, who gave him a hopeful look that implied she did trust him. He caught the eye of Izaya, who only smiled at him.

Kaneki sighed. “That makes ten of us.” He smiled warmly at Yukiteru, who beamed back, looking relieved. “Welcome, Yukiteru. It’s nice to properly meet you – I don’t think our paths have yet crossed in this game. Perhaps introductions are due?”

Hide, Shirou, Konoha, and Shintaro all introduced themselves (Seidou was introduced by Shintaro), and Kaneki prompted the discussion to continue. “Right, so Izaya-san was telling all of us his idea for fighting Yato.” The half-ghoul looked at Izaya, who clapped his hands together.

“Slight change of plans!” said the informant. “You want to partake, Yukki?”

Yukiteru blinked. “Um? Oh, yeah.” He had settled himself beside Rika and Hide, Kincho in his lap.

“Then here’s what we’ll do: Yukki will help Shirou and Konoha with the guarding over here.”

Rin turned to glare pointedly at Yukiteru, but he gave her a smile that made the hairs on her neck stand on end. It must have been gone as soon as it had appeared, because then he was playing innocently with Kincho again. Had she imagined it? Swallowing nervously, she turned back to Izaya, glancing back at Yukki every so often.

“Shintaro, Rika, Hide, and Rin will be among those here, of course,” Izaya continued. “It’s a pretty simple guideline. I think I can trust you guys to fight without strict plans. Kaneki and Seidou can collaborate, hopefully, and Shirou can be in charge over here.”

Shirou nodded stiffly.

“Hey, Izaya,” said Shintaro. His voice was surprisingly firm. Izaya looked at him in acknowledgment. “Why do you think you’ve got the best and only way to end Yato? What makes you so certain? Explain.”

Izaya blinked, surprised. “Well, think about it. This game is entertainment, for one thing, but it also seems like everything has to fit together in a specific, perfect way. I have a special kind of association with Yato. He and I were in the same group from the beginning, he was the one to cut my ties, and so on… We’re what you’d call ‘rivals,’ for simplicity’s sake. If I’m labelled as his true ‘rival’ in this game, then either he kills me or I kill him.  It wouldn’t make symbolic sense if, say, Seidou-san were to try and kill him, because what are they to one another?”

“Fox and hound?” suggested Yukiteru, and Seidou scowled disagreeably at him. Yukki smiled apologetically.

“Yes,” said Izaya, “and that’s not a good enough reason to kill an antagonist that has become so important to this game. How many people has he killed? He’s one of the greatest monsters on this field… Not to mention, he follows the trope of having ‘fallen from grace,’ and god or not, his wrongs will come crashing down on him. Because he blames me for his downfall, and because I admit that I have helped push him to this place he’s at… it’s me who will bring him that karma.”

“Self-righteous much?” uttered Rin.

“This is a game of choices, Rin-chan,” said Izaya coolly. “Think about it: those who progress in their development are typically rewarded. Those who regress are punished.”

“Wait…” Shintaro had pressed his fingertips to his forehead, thinking deeply. “‘Crashing down’… Someone said that. Roppi, no—that game master he’d met. He’d met up with a game master named Seraph, and she’d said something like that. It was about getting Seidou’s free will back. She said that once the choice was his and he wasn’t being puppeteered, then if he made the wrong choice, his sins would come crashing down on him—or at least, that’s what Roppi reported she said…”

“Wait, what?” Seidou was giving Shintaro an irritated look that only festered when the NEET didn’t further explain.

“That is,” said Kaneki, “the game masters are directing the outcomes within these games to match patterns – to become more like entertainment.”

“Like a movie,” piped in Hide. “Right?”

“But that also means that some antagonists are being forced by the game masters to do bad things,” said Shirou. “Can’t we…?”

“We don’t know whether the possessed kid and Yato are being controlled or not, though,” said Rin.

“I believe Yato is under the influence of the game masters,” said Rika. “And… I do believe A-ya is, too.”

“If you get too close to the answer behind these games,” said Izaya with a knowing smile, “you’re led astray. That’s what happened to A-ya-kun, and also what began to happen to me. A-ya-kun preached from the very beginning that this game was fake and the best thing to do was not to fight anybody, isn’t that right, Yukki?”

Yukiteru nodded. “It is. Those views didn’t shift until after he’d been possessed.”

“Meaning the lure of a demon’s wish-granting was what did him in,” said Hide, wide-eyed. “Crazy.”

“And that was the game masters doing.” Shintaro ran a hand through his hair. “It was them who brought Kuroha back, even though Tsukiyama had killed him.”

Kaneki closed his eyes. Hide looked enlightened by the information.

“And that happened,” said Konoha quietly, “because I woke up again…”

“I-it’s not your fault, Konoha,” said Shintaro quickly. “It was just—just a drawback of bringing someone back to life, and… and that was something I chose to accept.”

“It’s not your fault either, Shintaro,” said Kaneki calmly.

“The work of the masters,” agreed Rika.

“But wait,” said Shirou, “was Yato close to figuring it out, then? Since he’s been led astray?”

Izaya shrugged. “No; it was me. My goal from the beginning had been an ultimate alliance, but… Well, no, the point is he was not close. Or, if he was figuring it out, he didn’t voice it at all. Granted, he was a peacemaker and was on the way to being a god of fortune with the help of Yukine. It was after Yukine died that everything went downhill. These games stole precious people from him, and that was what determined his path to destruction, I think. By the time he could have started making amends, the masters just kept him on the path he’s on now.”

“Mm, Izaya,” said Yukiteru thoughtfully. “You mentioned how everything has to fit together just so, right? What was it, making ‘symbolic sense’?”

“I suppose so,” said the informant.

“Symbolism, huh.” The fourteen-year-old kind of smirked. “That’s one of the game masters, you know. Symbolism. What do you think that means?”

“The one that talked to Roppi, then?” said Shirou confusedly.

Shintaro shook his head. “No. I feel like it was the one that fixed up my phone walkie-talkies; remember that?”

His gold-brown eyes widened. “The golden sparks, and all that?”

“Yeah.”

“So I guess that game master’s actually pretty nice, huh?” remarked Hide, scratching at his cheek.

“Not all the game masters support the game,” said Shintaro. “So it stands to reason… Well, I mean, uh, yeah, he’s one of the ones who doesn’t approve.”

“Seraph, too,” said Kaneki, holding his chin.

“Muse is the one to look out for,” said Yukiteru. “That’s the one running the show. There’s supposedly seven game masters, and eight of us who can make it to the end.”

An uncomfortable feeling settled. “Only eight of us—can make it?” repeated Shintaro.

“I think that there are eight game masters, then,” said Izaya, holding up a finger. “And each of them has their own jurisdiction of the game field. We know about four – the items master who is symbolism; Rodd, representative of time, who has visited Yukiteru; he unspecified Seraph; and the mastermind, Muse.”

“There is also the tall, bald one,” said Rika. “He was waiting for us at the end of our game, when it ended.”

“That’s five!” chirped the informant.

“What makes you think there are eight rather than seven, Izaya?” said Kaneki.

“And where’d Yukiteru get the info about it?” added Hide.

“I met a game master once – the items master,” Yukiteru said mildly. “Shintaro has too, I think.”

Shintaro nodded with a weak smile.

“When did that happen?” uttered Seidou, but Shintaro waved at him with a gesture that said ‘later.’

“And as for me,” said Izaya, “I just feel like it would make sense for there to be eight game masters, one corresponding to each of the ‘winners’… if eight are supposed to make it. If the game masters are secretive, and there’s already conflict among them. It wouldn’t be too far-fetched to consider there being one more game master to complete the pattern of eight. Perhaps a traitor, or someone that even the items master isn’t allowed to tell about. I can’t take credit for these ideas, though – these are thoughts jotted down by the missing Aru Akise who apparently disappeared after Yato’s slaughter of his group. Note that this person also jotted down something he called ‘the unspoken rule,’ which basically states that if you find out the truth of the game and express it explicitly, you will die. Anyone who comes close is led astray – A-ya-kun, for example, or myself.”

“And I was harrowed,” said Shintaro. “That might count.”

Izaya nodded. “But I think that Akise had it figured out, and he’s now missing. To be fair, he was already pretty anomalous, never having a group to his name and showing up in an odd spot on the playing field, et cetera. But just before he could solve the mystery, he disappears into thin air. Now. More important is the case of L Lawliet.”

Yukiteru and Rika both straightened. Rika glanced to Yukki, but he didn’t look back.

“I’m sorry, would it be alright if one of you two explained?” said the informant. “He was in your group when he was still alive.”

“L was… well.” Yukiteru paused to gather his thoughts. “He was very smart, and he’d picked up a hint that A-ya had given about how one of the game masters was symbolism. And then… oh, that’s right. He put something together and started talking about the truth, and—and that’s when Yato came out of nowhere slashed him over the chest.” He looked up at the ceiling. “Yeah, that is what happened, isn’t it? Huh, I do remember Akise bringing that up with me, at some point.”

“He told me what it was he realized,” said Rika. She stared at her fingers, folded together neatly in her lap. “I mentioned it to Akise, but never told him directly what it was L said to me. I thought, perhaps, that it would mean the end of me if I said it out loud.”

“With this many people around, maybe it’s safe?” suggested Hide.

“I doubt the game masters would try to wipe anyone out if she tells nine other people,” agreed Shintaro, scratching at his head. “When you only manage to tell one person, that’s one thing, but… like, what would be the point?”

“And,” said Kaneki, “it would be rather hard to justify in these circumstances… Konoha, listen for any intruders.”

Konoha listened, blinked, and shook his head. “No one nearby.”

“Now they can’t go and be like, ‘hey, sorry, here comes Yato,’” Hide said, approving.

Rika smiled timidly but gratefully. “Well, it’s actually quite simple. Think about it – this is entertainment… but don’t think of it like a movie, but like—like a story.”

“A story?” repeated Rin. “Like, any kind of story, or like a book?”

“But they’re watching it on a screen,” said Yukiteru blankly.

“I suppose it can be any medium,” said Rika patiently. “But imagine someone were writing out the transcript for something, or were writing something like a book.”

“Oh, man, that’s Kaneki’s forte, not mine,” said Hide, and he beamed at his friend. “Hey, that means you’re the expert.”

Kaneki had his hand to his chin. “A story. But then…?” Kaneki decided he wanted to see if he could make his words communicate without quotation marks, and explained to the others that this was his intention.

“But how would we know?” said Shintaro.

Kaneki agreed that this was a good point. He quit that idea, unsure whether he felt any different. “If we were actually being typed out, then,” said Kaneki, “then that would mean we’re nothing but characters, aren’t we? Pieces of a story? Oh—I wonder if I could change paragraphs if I wanted…

“Do you think? Oh, I wouldn’t be able to tell…”

“I think that’s the kicker,” said Hide, scratching at the back of his head.

Seidou rolled his eyes. “Why’re you so excited, Kaneki?”

“I’m… not necessarily excited…” He touched his chin. “I wonder if I can speak in bold. What about italics? Underlined? I wish I could tell.”

“C’mon,” said Hide to Seidou, “he just found out it might actually be in an actual story. This is the bookiest of bookworms we’re talking about here.”

“But if we’re from stories,” said Shintaro, “and we’re all – actually – from different realms, how did we end up here? Or—maybe… it’s that we came from stories, too?”

“Is it that we don’t exist?” asked Konoha, his voice small.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” said Izaya. “We’re all solid, aren’t we?”

“We are to each other,” uttered Kaneki.

“Does that make—the game masters, more real than us?” asked Yukki.

“It explains how they can bring in demons and gods alike into this game, and even place limitations,” said Shintaro, paling. “Because even if Yato is a god, for example—they’d still technically be his god, if they’re—they’re our creators…”

“So basically, all of this is for nothing,” said Rin, voice taut.

“It—it’s not for nothing,” argued Shirou.

“That’s right, it isn’t,” said Yukiteru. “Because we’re gonna win this game, aren’t we?” Everyone looked at him but Rika, who had her eyes closed, head bowed. “We’re playing a game with god, then, right? Or something like that.” He flashed a confident smile. “So we’ll become our own gods when we reach the end. Think of it that way!”

“Our own gods,” repeated Izaya. “Hah.”

“Is that legal?” asked Konoha.

“It’s not a question of ‘legal,’ Konoha,” sighed Shintaro.

“We were offered a prize at the end,” Izaya spoke slowly. He seemed to be still wrapping his mind around the idea. He didn’t seem to like it. “Could it be that our prize at the end, is existence?”

Rika opened her eyes. “But will we truly receive?”

“God’s a liar, y’know,” spat Seidou.

“Stop calling them gods, already,” snapped Izaya. “They are not our gods if we don’t believe in them. We have agency. We will show them we have a will of our own.”

Shintaro stood abruptly. “If we can sever Seidou’s puppet strings – if he now has the right to choose, then that means that we can choose, too. This is a game of choice, so it has to count for something! It has to.”

“You’re right,” said Kaneki. “Shintaro-kun… Izaya-san. For this to be a proper story, there has to be point. And for that, there also needs to be a theme. Now, if it’s a tragedy, that’s all well and good, but…” Everyone was glancing around at one another uneasily at this. “But what we need to find, then, is the ideal ending. We need to fabricate a conclusion.”

“Like A-ya used to say!” exclaimed Yukki, straightening up. Kincho jumped in his lap, squeaking in startlement. “It had to do with Schrodinger’s cat—oh, what was it? This game wouldn’t even be happening if no one were watching it – it wouldn’t be played, and there wouldn’t be an ending. But—but the game masters already ‘know’ the end—and it’s their notion of that end which we internalize and start believing ourselves. That’s the repeating tragedy we have on our hands. It’s the reason this game has happened so many times!”

“Repeating tragedy,” echoed Rika.

“So in order to beat this preconceived ending,” said Hide, cocking an eyebrow, “we’ve got to, what, break the fourth wall?”

Saiko did that!” Shintaro cried, raising a pointed index finger. “She said she knew about Yato from a television show!”

“B-but Saiko… Didn’t she…?” Konoha was trembling, staring at Shintaro with furrowed brow.

“Pretty sure Yato killed her,” confirmed Seidou. “Like, right after that.”

“Then could that be connected to that unspoken rule Izaya mentioned?” said Hide.

“Oh, no…” Shintaro sat back down, burying his face in his hands. “I get it; I get it…” He smartly decided not to voice exactly what it was he understood.

“So the point is that we’ve gotta break this tragedy trope,” said Hide, holding up his hands as if it would help everyone chill. “And—‘Neki, can’t you figure out some possible jurisdictions of the masters, then? You love literature, right? We’ve got time and symbolism, what else could there be?”

Kaneki thought about this. “Something like—plot? Setting? Theme, mood, tone? Conflict, characterization? A narrator?”

“So, this’ll be fun to narrow down,” sighed Rin.

“I think that most important,” said Shirou, “is whatever Muse is. They’re running the show, right? So if we know what we’re up against, then…”

“What sorts of things can each of these game masters do?” asked Hide.

“It’s specific for each of them,” said Yukiteru.

“Then, someone like Rodd the time guy,” said Shintaro, raising his head, “would do all the time-related items, like fastforward and rewind. And he’d be the one that resets, right?”

Yukiteru was nodding.

Seidou clicked his tongue. “I think it’s pointless to figure that out now. It’s just guesswork,” he grumbled. “That’s something we should deal with as we come across ‘em.”

“There’s no way to properly prepare,” Shintaro agreed soberly.

“But hey, now we kinda know what we’re gonna be up against,” said Hide.

“But that’s still after the plan we’ve got going now,” added Shirou.

“And we don’t even know who’s gonna make it outta this one,” said Seidou in an offhanded sort of way.

“Don’t remind me,” Shintaro groaned.

“Well, it’s fact.”

“Speaking of which,” said Hide, raising a hand up, “wait a sec. Izaya, I’ve got a question about – you know, the imminent plot.”

“Yes, Hide-kun?”

“Well, we’re supposed to take on whatever comes our way over here, right?”

“Yes.”

“And Kaneki and Takizawa are supposed to lure Yato to the hospital, and slam dunk him into the basement, right?”

“Yes.”

“And… you wanna take him by yourself? ‘Neki and Takizawa are supposed to come back to our side?”

“That’s right.”

“Dude, isn’t that—kinda dangerous?”

“I’ll manage,” Izaya smiled thinly.

“But Izaya,” piped up Shintaro, who had also not achieved an explanation the night before, “how do you expect to do that on your own? Konoha’s right – you’re injured. Even if you’ve got that spirit-killing sword there, do you really think you can take him? You’re a brutally injured human trying to take on a literal god.”

“Mm,” said Yukki agreeably, “we don’t want Izaya dead.”

“I don’t think I’d mind,” commented Seidou.

“Shintaro-kun has a point,” said Kaneki, coming up at Izaya’s side after shooting Seidou a look. “If that sword’s your bargain… well. How did you fare last time with Yato?”

Izaya clicked his tongue, annoyed. “The Prophet’s not my only gamble,” he snipped. “I’m not that foolish.”

“Then what?” Shintaro shot back. “Because you’ve got symbolic reasons to be able to take him down? Using the mechanisms of the game masters is too soft a science. Seidou’s right on that one; it’s guesswork. So you can’t bet on that, either.”

“I know that.” Izaya’s voice was level, but he still looked a tad bit irritated.

“You’re gonna have to be a little more convincing, then, Izaya-san,” said Hide.

“Well—Shirou-kun, you have that ‘copycat’ ability and all, right?”

Shirou looked rather taken aback. “Well, if you call it that.”

“You can copy any weapon, right?”

“That’s right,” he said cautiously. The redhead paused. “Well, that is—I haven’t come across anything yet that I can’t.”

“Well, let’s see.”

Izaya fingered his fur-trimmed jacket, zipped up all the way, then lifted the bottom of it. Kaneki understood immediately when the informant took the thing from his belt and held it up. Touching his chin, the half-ghoul uttered, “Oh, that’s it, is it?”

“Shirou-kun,” Izaya smiled, “how many copies do you suppose you can make of a grenade?”

 

Chapter 99: Unseen

Chapter Text

 

“Are we ready yet?” Greyson stood with their weight shifted to one side, watching dully through green-rimmed spectacles while Rainbow scuttled around making sure they had everything.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“In a minute.”

Greyson released a long, slow sigh, then checked the time on their watch. Their eyes flickered. They didn’t know why they always checked the time – their watch never changed from 12:30. “I think I need a new watch,” Grey commented mildly.

“Why?” asked Rainbow distractedly, checking under the sheets of their bed to see if perhaps there was something they wanted to bring hiding under there.

“It’s been broke.”

“Since when?”

“12:30, apparently.”

“Just today?”

“For a while, actually…”

“Mm.”

Grey clicked their tongue. Obviously their watch was the least of Rainbow’s concerns. Eyes clouding, Grey examined their watch again. Then they shrugged it off. “You don’t need your laptop, Rain,” they frowned, eyeing Rainbow, who was fingering their laptop thoughtfully.

“You know—just in case—”

Grey laughed a bit, strained. “You don’t need it, Rainbow,” they said with a note of exasperation. “We’re going outside – why would we need it?”

“Mm, I don’t want it to get damaged, that’s a good point,” Rainbow mused, and Grey drew their lips into a thin line.

“You’re helpless.”

“Wow.” Rainbow shot a sour expression at Grey. “I know.”

Grey was silent for a moment. Then they ran a hand through their silver hair, closing their eyes. “It’s okay. We both are.”

“True,” Rainbow conceded, and headed right out of the room and into the hallway.

Grey furrowed their brow. “That’s not the exit,” they called, and Rainbow answered, “I know! Stay there, I’ll be right back!”

Grey sighed again, looked at their broken watch, shook their head, and stuffed their hands in the pockets of their vest. Despite their irritation, they chose to do as they were told.

In the hallway, Rainbow traversed on tiptoes of Converse sneakers, stopping only once they had reached the door to the cell of their captive. That is, the door that concealed Rainbow’s “pet.” Tentatively, Rainbow opened the door to the dark room inside. The breakfast they’d left him earlier had been sort of picked at before being discarded, and Rainbow looked at this with some disappointment. “Hey, there…” They paused, adopting an almost motherly tone. “Greyson and I are going out, now, so… Yes, that’s right, out of the tower.” Rainbow paused again. “So—well—I’m gonna let you out. Yes, that’s right, don’t look so smugly surprised—god. Of course there’s a little bit of risk for me – don’t worry about it. It’s fine. Don’t tell anyone it was me, okay? You take care of yourself.”

Rainbow hesitated, then looked around, as if to make sure no one was looking. “In that case—uh, the exit is not through the tunnel beyond the door opposite the room just next door. Okay?” Feeling as though they’d made it obvious enough, they added, “I’m gonna casually forget to close the door all the way, now.” When it was open just a crack, Rainbow spoke once more, quiet and serious: “Just wait a little, until after we’re gone, okay? Good luck.

Rainbow then scampered off to Greyson. “Just wanted to check on him—must be so boring in there.”

Grey grunted, hooking arms with Rainbow and leading them through the doors to the tunnel.

“The final eight are supposed to find this passage, huh?” said Rainbow brightly. “Don’t think they’ll just blow shit up again?”

“I know what you just did, Rain,” said Grey, and Rainbow stared. Grey smirked. “I’m proud.”

Rainbow blinked. “Um… thanks?” They tried to sound as innocent as possible.

“And uh, I dunno whether they’ll find it or not,” Grey admitted, going back to the topic Rain had tried to bring up. “But Minene’s not involved. So.” They shrugged shortly, and Rainbow pulled from their arm.

“You think this is fine? We haven’t been outside in forever.”

“It’s not like it’ll kill us.”

“I know, but… I’m just saying I’m perfectly okay with being a shut-in.”

“You were the one that suggested—”

“I know. I know.” Rain drew closer to the side of the tunnel, running their fingers along the cement surface, smooth save for the ridges that divided the slabs. It had sloped downward for some time, but it began to even out here. The lights were yet fluorescent, a thin line of white shining down the top-middle of the underground path they tread. As the ground started sloping up again, the lights got dimmer; yellower. All through this, the two game masters walked in a silence only disturbed by the soft hum of electricity and their echoing footsteps.

“Wait,” said Rain, voice lowered, “they can’t see us, right?”

“The players?”

“Yeah.”

“I dunno.” Greyson seemed amused by Rain’s look. “I guess we’ll find out.”

They were nearing the end now. The ground sloped up sharply before they reached a metal barrier. Rainbow watched with wide, child-like eyes as Greyson slid this barrier to the side by its handle – a door to the game field. Rainbow stepped out first, trying to take it all in while Grey followed behind in shared awe. They’d walked out into a room of carcasses splayed every which way, ripped apart in varying states of mutilation. There was a long row of tables for the bodies. The lights flickered overhead. It was the morgue.

“Do you know what?” said Rainbow. “I don’t think I remember—ever leaving the tower. Do you?”

Grey hesitated – if they had an answer, they didn’t have the chance to voice it; for as they opened their mouth, a solid explosion went off above them, rocking the building above. “Look out!

Shoving Rainbow to the side, Grey narrowly missed getting hit themselves by the old fluorescent light that came crashing down from the ceiling. In the sudden force, the two of them had toppled to the ground, Grey over Rain. Rainbow shuddered, speechless.

Greyson’s face was one of urgency, eyes searching the face of the other. “Rayne, are you okay?

Rainbow looked up into Greyson’s visage, a stillness coming over them. Their trembling ceased, but they looked distinctly puzzled. Eventually a smile replaced the sense of confusion.

“Ohh, that was cool – your eyes, Grey! I swear it; for a second, they were green!”

They shook their head. “Probably a trick of the light—my glasses,” they said gruffly, getting up and holding out a hand to Rainbow.

“It was a pretty trick,” commented Rain, accepting their hand and cheerily giving Grey a peck on the lips.

“Let’s get going,” they grumbled, taking off the glasses and wiping them off. “Who knows what kinda shit they’re doing up there…”


“You know that Rainbow and Greyson left, don’t you?” inquired Rodd, pushing his orange-rimmed spectacles up on his face. “What could they be up to?”

“They just want to have an adventure,” Muse answered, apparently unconcerned. Their eyes were fixed to the screens as they twiddled their fingers idly. “They want to meet the players, that’s all.”

“And what about your rule about not interacting with the players in-game?”

“Oh, they won’t do anything too drastic. Knowing them, they’ll try to stay hidden.”

Rodd watched Muse for a little while without expression, his violet eyes as wide and blank as ever. “If you say so,” he said eventually.

“Look at them having their existential crises,” Muse said mildly, snickering with cold humor. “How fun! Don’t you think?”

“I guess so,” Rodd said indifferently, sticking his hands in his pockets.

“What do you think Yukiteru’s thinking?”

“Not sure.”

“How do you think this’ll go?”

“Uh…”

Muse whirled around in their swivel chair, violet eyes alight with focused ecstasy. They leaned forward, towards Rodd. “Anything else to report, then, Rodd?” they grinned.

Rodd shifted his weight from one side to the other. “They let the captive go. Should I lock the door before he gets out?”

Muse clapped their hands together, laughing childishly. “No, no, not to worry! Come what may, he can be the one that greets whoever makes it outta this one. You can arrange that the timing is perfect, of course?”

He pushed his glasses up on his face. “Of course. I can handle that without a problem.” He smirked at Muse. “Got anything more interesting for me to do?”

Muse waved their hand. “Not particularly. Just make sure that when everyone collides, the skirmishes tie together well.”

“What’s Aureus got to say about all of this?”

Muse laughed heartily. “He’s not too pleased, I imagine…” – they clasped their hands together in sudden mockery – “…Oh, jeez, please please please be okay, Shirou. Muse better not let him die, or I’ll kick their butt!” And Muse erupted into cackles again. “You’d think he fancies Shirou Emiya! But he told me, he says he couldn’t stand Rin Tohsaka dying before Shirou. Hah! To think! Not to mention, he’s also bargaining on Yato making it, Kaneki, Shintaro, Yukiteru, Hide, and Konoha…” Muse was counting these people on their fingers as they went. “Well, that is eight.”

“Is he planning to interfere, do you think?” Rodd was impassive as ever.

“Oh, probably not. He hates Izaya, so I’m sure he’s absolutely thrilled that Izaya’s going on what’s essentially a suicide mission – and willingly!” Muse began to laugh again, but stopped abruptly. “No, no, you’re absolutely right. Aureus doesn’t wish death upon anybody, does he? Though he doesn’t want Izaya to make it. Silly Aureus. Indeed, silly Aureus…” Muse closed their eyes. “He’ll only have a symbolic hand in this one, I expect – unless Rin dies, of course. Mostly, he’ll watch how it plays out. I think he just wants to know who makes it.”

“Well, if you say so.” Rodd and Aureus never did get along very well. “I guess it’s better he’s in that hatch, huh?”

“Mm, he’s there for a reason.”

“And what of Seraph?”

“Oh, what can she do?” Smiling smugly, Muse chuckled. “Yato, Yato, I know this doesn’t make much sense, but you can’t kill people like that! You boob, you’re going to die! Just think about Yukine and Hiyori!” They laughed derisively. “I mean, she could try to force an epiphany on someone; have them realize the wrong of their ways, or end up saving themselves some other way – or save somebody else. But I have the power to veto that ability, so…” Muse shrugged. “No reason being worried about it.”

“Well, that’s good.” Rodd raised his eyebrows. “And Durden is… still with Yato and Nora, I presume?”

“That’s right.” Smiling dreamily, Muse turned back to the screens. “Soon, we’ll just see whether this is the end or not. It doesn’t have to be, you know.”

“With me around, you can’t ever run out of time.”

Muse faltered. “You’re right,” they conceded. There was a quiet that settled over the two of them. Muse leaned forward, almost slumping over the control panel in front of them. Eyes gazed empty into a screen displaying the grenade tests the largest player group was performing. “Thank you,” they said eventually, and Rodd tipped his hat, silent, before backing out of the room.


Durden smiled up at the sky, running a hand over his smooth scalp. “Weather’s nice today,” he remarked. “But I’ve got a stinging suspicion it’s gonna rain soon.” He paused, listening to a distant crash. “Oh – is that thunder?” And he began to laugh.

Sitting on the edge of the shrine opposite Durden was Yato, cerulean eyes flickering at the far-off noise. “Explosions,” he said.

“Wonder what they’re up to,” commented Nora softly, toying with a string that had fallen from Yato’s torn tracksuit jacket. She looked up at her master as he got to his feet. “Mm?” She tilted her head. “Yato?”

“I’m healed enough. We should head out.”

She looked up at him for a bit, though he didn’t look back at her. She looked at her string, then tossed it to the side, getting up herself. The spirit hesitated, if slightly, at the game master lurking in the corner of her eye. Turning to look, she saw Durden eyeing her with a cruel smirk curling his mouth.

“I’m waiting for you to show me,” he said. “You know, what you really care about.”

Nora narrowed her eyes just slightly. Yato didn’t appear to notice the presence of Durden. “Let’s go, then,” she said to Yato, and with a curt nod, he started out, Nora at his side. They would not teleport – too much energy wasted. Instead, they leapt into the air, going from rooftop to rooftop towards the group waiting for them.

Yato is healed now. It will go well, Nora thought, but even she couldn’t help feeling a twinge of unease in her chest.


Hide sat alone at the edge of his bed, rummaging through the medical bag that originally belonged to Tsuki—not that he necessarily knew that. “Good thing,” he uttered. “Yeah, these come in real handy…” He pulled out two of the walkie-talkies that Shintaro had put together when they were on the mission to harrow Seidou. “Alright, alright…”

Everyone had gone over to the hospital to test out one of the copied grenades – just to make sure that the copies were fully functional, and also to test out how strong the structure of the building was. Shintaro and Izaya had teamed up to figure out how many they needed and how to make them all go off like Izaya wanted them to. From what Hide gathered, Izaya was literally making a go at burying himself and Yato in the basement. It was more than dangerous; Hide suspected that Izaya expected to die.

Shintaro was left with Konoha, Seidou, and Shirou to make the placements, which was where they were now. Kaneki had started discussing with Rin, Rika, and Hide what it would be like in their positions, and how they must absolutely remain safe at all costs (Hide was pretty sure his best buddy didn’t want to lose him in particular), but Hide had ducked out of the last of it because he’d overheard Yukiteru requesting to speak with Izaya alone.

So the bleached-blond boy had slipped upstairs, exclaiming that he’d left the medical bag in his room – which he had, but really it was more an excuse to get up there on his own. Both Izaya and Yukiteru were new members of this group, and both of them were admittedly suspicious. Might as well be safe about it considering, you know, this was still a death game.

He pulled out some surgical tape and shrugged, uttering, “This’ll do,” before wrapping it tightly around the little push-to-talk button. The other walkie-talkie crackled to life as it received the static from the one wrapped with surgical tape. It was around now that Hide heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Hastily, he dropped the taped talkie to the ground and kicked it under the bed before shoving the other back into the medical bag, slinging the satchel over his shoulder and taking a deep breath.

He stepped out of the room with a big grin on his face. “Hey, guys!” There were Yukiteru and Izaya just entering the upstairs hallway. It was kinda funny looking at them, if only because Yukki looked like a little kid next to Izaya Orihara. Izaya was only a couple centimeters or so taller than Hide, but Yukiteru was probably ten centimeters smaller than himself.

“Oh, hi, Hide,” smiled Yukki.

“Ah, Hide-kun,” said Izaya, “we were just coming up here to chat. I do think Kane-kun’s waiting for you outside, however.”

“Ah, shoot.” Hide ran a hand through his hair. “Well—you guys can use my room if you want. I just cleaned it out.” He patted the medical bag. “All set. See you guys soon, then!” With that, Hide hopped down the stairs.

“Alright – oh, thanks, Hide!” Yukki called after him. The fourteen-year-old paused. “I feel bad; I did try to kill him. I hope he’s not mad… Do you think?”

“Don’t think too hard on it,” Izaya advised, and they entered the room Hide had offered.


“There’s a thing!” Rainbow pointed excitedly at the lobby down the hall from where they’d emerged from the basement. Greyson blinked, adjusting their glasses. “Shintaro and Seidou are over there!”

“And Shirou,” added Grey. “And Konoha.”

“Yeah.” Rain sounded rather distracted. Grey crossed their arms over their chest.

“Konoha was so important to you just a few days ago. Did I miss something?”

“What? No.” Rainbow brought a hand to their chest. “He’s still important. Very important. Precious child…

Grey rolled their eyes. “Let’s go.”

They made their way down the hall, then, with Greyson walking at a measured pace and Rainbow shuffling forward in anticipation. “They’re 3-D, Grey. 3-D.

Grey picked at their ear. “Yeah.” They froze, however, when Shintaro looked up from his work with mapping out the ground and looked, puzzled, in their direction. Squeaking, Rainbow quickly grasped at Grey’s arm. Shintaro looked even more bewildered, rubbing at his eyes.

“Guys,” said the NEET, “I might be going nuts.”

“Took you long enough,” uttered Seidou.

“Well, hey,” said Shirou good-naturedly, “if you’ve made it this far, I say that’s pretty good.”

“No—like, I just saw somebody—like, right over there…”

“I do not see anyone,” said Konoha.

“Yeah, they—they disappeared.

“Disappeared?” repeated the android.

“What if this place is—is haunted?” Shintaro said faintly. “Oh, God.”

Seidou scoffed. “I saw somethin’,” he admitted. “Dunno what, though. Not a ghost, though. That’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” said Shirou. “Spirits exist.”

“There are a lot of dead people here,” said Shintaro in a small voice, pulling the red scarf up a bit more over his face. “Lots of possibilities, y’know.”

“It couldn’t have been a game master, could it?” asked Shirou tentatively.

“Oh,” said Konoha.

“Maybe,” mumbled Shintaro.

“Little fuckin’ coward, keepin’ outta sight…,” Seidou growled.

By then, Rainbow and Greyson were slipping, unseen, out of the hospital and into the street. They were holding hands, Rainbow holding on a bit tighter than was normal. “They could only see one of us,” said Rain. “Don’t know why…”

“It was probably you,” said Grey.

Why?

“Shintaro and Seidou? Um… They were both harrowed, weren’t they?” Grey adjusted their green-rimmed glasses with their free hand. “And then they were purified. You’re the one that fixes that. You know – connections and bonds and shit?”

“Then how come they can’t see you?” Rain huffed.

Grey shrugged. “You put stuff together. I tear them apart.”

“Why do you have to be this way?”

“It’s more fun,” they shrugged again. They grinned mischievously at Rainbow’s deploring look. “Don’t you want to see Seidou tear into Shintaro?” They brought a hand to their face. “And Shintaro’s so soft; so easy to break!”

Rainbow frowned at them pointedly, and Greyson deflated.

“I like blood and breaking people; I have problems…”

“It’s okay,” Rain assured. “Seidou can rip Shintaro limb from limb if you want him to… as long as it’s out of love.”

Greyson blinked, then smiled. “Okay,” they said, sounding distantly cheery. “I’m really looking forward to seeing Yato and Izaya’s next meet-up.” They began walking towards the bakery, passing by Kaneki, Rika, and Rin. Rainbow was staring raptly at them, expression awed. “I can’t wait…”

“I want Yato and Izaya to kiss,” said Rainbow.

“What? No.” Greyson frowned. “No. No.

“Why not?

“They—they’re too—too alike.

“I guess you’re right, but…” They went carefully in through the front doors and watched as Hide slipped into the back area, where the kitchen was hidden. Rainbow pulled away from Grey’s hand. “Where are Yukiteru and Izaya? Oh, if I had my laptop…”

Shaking their head, Greyson hooked arms with Rainbow and started for the stairs. “Nobody can see us if we’re touching.”

“Yeah, yeah…”

Their wandering took them exactly where they wanted to be – slipping into a cracked-open door, they walked in on a private conversation between none other than Yukiteru and Izaya.

“…put me with Shirou and Konoha; thank you very much,” said Yukiteru to Izaya, an earnest fire in his blue eyes. “Since you know A-ya will surely come from that side. You need to see Yato, and I… well, you know.”

“It’s all established,” Izaya answered, rather flat. He was leaning on the wall behind him, his arms folded over his chest.

Yukiteru took a step forward, spreading a hand out casually. “It’s gonna happen all at once, then, isn’t it?”

“Probably.” The informant’s red-brown eyes were dull in comparison to their old cruel shine. He dipped his head just slightly, giving an overcast to his eyes. “It would really make the pieces fit together, wouldn’t it? If this is the ending, there’s no doubt this plot needs to hit its climax.”

“And at that time…”

“I know, it’s…”

“For Yato… or for A-ya…”

Kiss him.” It was Rainbow that whispered in Yukiteru’s ear. They’d crept up on them, unnoticed beyond the perceptions of the players. “Ya gotta kiss him, Yukki. Kiss the child. Kiss A-ya. That’s the plan…”

“Oh my god,” said Greyson, stifling their laughter. Stretching their arms to get closer to Izaya while Rainbow remained by Yukki, Grey leaned in to Izaya’s ear, murmuring, “Kill him. You should kill him. And break him first, while you’re at it. End Yato.

“Jesus Christ, Greyson,” said Rainbow, and they both busted into giggles.

“So, what’s your real plan, Izaya?” asked Yukki.

“He’s gonna sin, son,” said Grey. “God-slayer, haha!”

“I don’t imagine that’s all you’re planning to discuss with me, Yukki,” said Izaya. “You’ve got secrets of your own.”

“Yeah, he’s gay,” Rainbow piped in.

Yukiteru laughed. “Everyone’s allowed a little bit of secrecy, aren’t they?”

“Just come outta the closet, guys,” Grey snickered.

“Some lines must be crossed,” said Izaya, eyes narrowing just slightly.

Rain giggled. “Yeah, like—”

Izaya was suddenly slammed into the wall by an invisible force, grimacing. The two game masters shut up instantly.

Yukiteru was still smiling, just slightly. “Alright,” he said, looking up at Izaya, who was now gravitationally pinned to the wall. “I’ll tell you.”

The informant opened an eye to look at the fourteen-year-old in front of him. His mouth twisted into something like a smile. “What’s—this about, Yukki?”

“Well, I’ve gotta admit,” Yukki said, still oddly casual, “I was such an awkward mess… But I think you have something going for you. I really do. I was so scared to interact with people, thinking I’d do it wrong, thinking I’d get myself hurt… But I found out…” – Yukiteru smiled eerily up at him – “…that it gets a lot easier after you do it enough. People aren’t so difficult to figure out, after all!” He sounded like nothing more than an enlightened kid, excited about finding out how easy it was to nick a cookie from the cookie jar. “People aren’t so hard to trick. And if you pretend you’re one thing, people start to believe you. You know it – you know how to lie, don’t you?”

Izaya frowned down at him. “What exactly are you getting at?”

Yukiteru’s wide eyes had a shine to them that Izaya recognized as a bad sign, but he couldn’t tell exactly the meaning behind it. What was he thinking? “You can do what you want to Yato. I don’t mind it, even if you do decide on killing him. If you somehow succeed, then good for you. But Yato taught me a little trick about this game. The way you can override the kill count rule, and kill as many as you want in one go… Do you know the answer?”

The informant’s eyes were gradually festering. He said nothing.

Betrayal.”

Izaya’s lips grew slightly thinner. His eyes narrowed. Yukiteru smiled happily, walking forward until he was right in front of Izaya.

“And everyone’s gonna be all together, Izaya. Do you know what that means?” When Izaya didn’t seem to want to answer, Yukiteru snickered.

“Decided to side with what’s left of A-ya after all, have you?” Izaya inquired bitterly.

“So what if that is the answer?” Yukiteru leaned in, intense gaze narrowing back at the informant. “You’re not going to say a word about it. Do you know why?” Here, Yukiteru cut him off before he could answer: “Because that’s who you are. I’ve heard – it wouldn’t be the first time you kept quiet about someone’s dishonesty. Who died then? Someone close to Yato, wasn’t it?” Izaya’s eyes flashed, and Yukki grinned, pressing further, “You’re that kind of cruel person, Izaya. No matter how much I tell you, you won’t dare say a word about it to anyone, will you? No, because that could get you killed, and more importantly… what a show that will be, won’t it? You just can’t resist watching things fall apart, no matter how hard you’ve worked to put it all together. Do you really think that that changed? Hah!”

Being released by the gravitational pull of the wall, Izaya collapsed to the ground. With his good palm pressed to the wooden flooring, he used the wall for stability as he looked up at Yukiteru.

That’s why,” Yukki said lowly, “you won’t say a thing.” Here, he smiled sweetly. “Right, Izaya?”


It didn’t take too much longer for the entire group to assemble. The bombs were set up in the hospital, the roof was marked where Yato needed to be broken in, the bakery roof was all set up, and everyone was now gathered in the street, Kaneki and Izaya at the front.

“Is everyone aware of their roles?” asked Kaneki, and there were sounds of confirmation.

“All set, boss,” Hide grinned. Kaneki’s visage softened when he looked at him.

“And how about you, Konoha?”

As the android was rather air-headed at times, Kaneki just wanted to be sure. Contrary to his usual spacey air, however, Konoha looked stiff. “I—remain on top of the roof, with… the small one in the cloak, and Shirou. Protect Shintaro, and Hide, and Rika, and Rin. From—A-ya. Well, really, the one inside of him. I think.”

Kaneki touched his chin. “Hmm… If you’re uncomfortable, Konoha, I understand. Perhaps Seidou and you can switch, if—”

I will stay here,” Konoha said firmly, if shakily. “I want—I should, I need to, to face that person.”

Yukiteru eyed Konoha, musing quietly to himself. That was right, this android was the one who used to be possessed, wasn’t he?

“Konoha…,” uttered Shintaro, concerned. He rubbed at one of his bandaged arms. Seidou only scoffed.

“It’s brave of you,” Kaneki smiled at the android, and then looked over the rest of them. “Are we ready, then?”

A chorus of confirmation, added to with Shirou’s exclamation of “Absolutely!”

“There are two people coming,” said Konoha, “from that way. Kinda fast.” He pointed, and Kaneki nodded.

“It’s time to get situated.”

“There’s just one more thing I’d like to say before I head to the hospital,” said Izaya, stepping forward from behind Kaneki and raising his head. Hide appeared to be watching Izaya a bit closer than usual. “For—all of you, really. I’d like for none of you to be another one of Yato’s casualties.” His eyes flickered, and he smiled emptily at them all. “I think far too many people have died by his hand because of me. Having said this, let’s all do our best, hah? Let’s not give up – no matter what happens.” He gave a meaningful look to everyone. “Tragedy is inevitable for all of us in one form or another, but that doesn’t mean there can’t be a happy ending, right? I’m not going to be the one to pretend that every one of us is going to make it to that end.”

Rika blinked. By the way Hanyuu quietly put her hands over her mouth, the little girl figured that what he said was somehow significant.

“Anyway,” he said, closing his eyes, “good luck, everyone. Heh.” He turned to walk towards the hospital, and was stopped for a moment by Rika, who had run up to him and taken his hand, squeezing once. Their eyes met, she released him, and she left.

“Good luck to you too,” said Shintaro, giving a pained half-smile. Konoha, next to him, nodded. “It was nice working with you…. properly, you know.”

“Likewise,” Izaya smiled drily.

With that, he started to the hospital, and had gotten to the door when Kaneki’s voice called to him from behind.

Izaya turned to him. “Yes, Kane-kun?”

“Thank you.”

The informant stared at him with comical surprise, and for a moment, had nothing to say. He wasn’t all too sure he liked the warmth exuding from Kaneki’s visage. What was that? “I don’t know why you’re thanking me,” Izaya scoffed. “We just happened to share common interests, and that’s all. There’s nothing more to it.”

“But you also offered your company,” Kaneki said patiently. “And sharp tongue though you have, you do have everyone’s safety in mind.”

Izaya shrugged off his hand. “I’m only using your lot to get to my own objective. You’ve held up to that necessity, and I appreciate that.”

“You’ve shared information that you didn’t need to,” the half-ghoul pointed out.

“Bouncing off ideas,” Izaya said shortly. “Just useful. All of you were just convenient.”

“Then I’m glad we were, ah, of convenience to you. You were rather convenient to us too.”

Izaya frowned deeply at Kaneki. Was this mockery? “I just did all I did because it would have been even more of a hassle for myself otherwise.”

Kaneki’s mouth curled slightly, his Mona Lisa touch. “I just wanted to express my gratitude. Despite everything, I hope you make it out of this.”

Izaya hesitated.

“Just… don’t go pushing people off of any more balconies.”

The informant blinked, then barked out a laugh. “Oh, fine, fine… You take care of yourself, Kaneki.” Izaya held up an index finger. “If you’re going to try and protect everyone else, you need to be able to protect yourself. That is, ah… It’s something you’re alarmingly thick-headed about.”

Kaneki’s eyebrows rose. “I suppose you’re right,” he said eventually, touching his chin.

“Well then, good luck out there!” Izaya chirped, bringing an arm around Kaneki’s shoulders. “Glad you have such faith in me, you know? If you say so, it must be true!”

“Careful in there,” said Kaneki, patting Izaya awkwardly on the back before breaking away to head back to the bakery.

Izaya looked back once more to see Yukiteru looking at him. Yukki smiled.

Closing his eyes, the informant turned and entered the darkness of the hospital, a hollow smirk touching his mouth.

 

Chapter 100: Liars

Chapter Text

 

“Is he still coming from the same direction, Konoha?” asked Kaneki, looking out over the rooftops he could from atop the bakery with everyone besides Izaya, who had already entered the hospital to wait in the morgue. Konoha confirmed Kaneki’s inquiry, and Kaneki ran a hand through his white locks. A shadow moving over the rooftops caught his eye. Well, two shadows. “Brace yourself, everyone.” His eyes narrowed. Something felt wrong, but he couldn’t quite figure out what it was.

“Can we charge him now?” asked Seidou impatiently, lowering himself into a fighting stance.

“We will attack when I give the signal,” said Kaneki, watching as the smaller figure flashed red and became Yato’s wooden-hilted sword. He’s quicker than last time we saw him, he thought, watching as Yato bounded from the hospital roof to the street between them, the asphalt cracking beneath him. The building beneath them trembled; Kaneki heard Shintaro yelp. “Now!”

He and Seidou jumped forward and towards their target, but Yato merely ran behind them at top speeds, shooting into the throng of innocents waiting on the bakery roof. It suddenly occurred to Kaneki exactly what was wrong here.

He’s healed!” Kaneki cried out, wheeling around. Seidou skidded, looking mightily disgruntled. “Look out—

Cerulean lightning clashed with the teal electric of Shirou Emiya’s short swords. Gritting his teeth, the redhead took the god’s attack with both blades crossed in front of him, feet spread wide as he protected Hide, who stood stock-still behind him. They broke contact as Rin shot at Yato with a curse and he dodged, jumping backwards into the outstretched hand of Seidou Takizawa.

Keep the fuck away,” he growled, gripping at the collar of Yato’s jersey. The god writhed and twisted, swinging his sword only to get thrown off the roof and back to the street below.

Kaneki looked to Hide, who flashed him a grin and a thumbs-up saying yes, he was fine. Kaneki then jumped back down with Seidou to fight Yato. “This’ll be harder now that he’s at full power,” said Kaneki breathlessly.

Yato watched them both silently, visage cold. “Yeah,” agreed Seidou, “and to compare, you look like you’ve been put through a cheese grater.”

Kaneki blinked at him. “Well—”

“I’ve got your back!” called Shirou, coming down from the top of the bakery to land between them. “I’ll help weaken him—trace on!” he barked as Yato charged again.

“We can handle it ourselves, kid,” said Seidou.

“We don’t need either one of you going ballistic, here!” Shirou responded. “We need our wits about us more than we need pure power.”

Seidou laughed harshly, his kagune spreading from his back. “You think too much of me, saying something like that!”

“My dad believed in you, didn’t he?” Shirou answered, brandishing Seidou’s old crossbow quinque and shooting a few rounds at Yato.

Seidou didn’t seem to have an answer for that.

The remaining six atop the bakery watched with bated breath as Shirou, Seidou, and Kaneki all faced Yato. “He’s healed, huh?” said Yukiteru, hand to his chin.

“Maybe an items pillar,” suggested Rin. She looked a bit pale.

“Whatever helped him, we mustn’t worry too much now,” said Rika. “We have to keep an eye out for ourselves… That is their fight now.”

“Yeah…,” Shintaro agreed half-heartedly.

“They’ll do fine,” Hide assured Rin. “Look at ‘em. They’re all so badass!”

She offered him a weak smile in answer, and they watched Shirou work together with the two artificial half-ghouls against a god. By now, Kaneki’s kagune was also out, and he and Seidou were fighting quite effectively as a duo. Shirou, the third wheel, continued to contribute at strategic intervals, using whatever weapon best suited the moment. He switched from the crossbow to his short swords, to a machine gun, to a pair of grenades (“Hold on!” he cried to his two teammates, not wanting to get them blown up too.), to a full length sword reminiscent of the Prophet (this one threw Yato off especially well)…

It was Konoha that gave the warning, his soft voice especially low and urgent: “That person is coming.”

“From what side?” asked Hide, and Konoha pointed stiffly to the south, away from the skirmish involving Yato.

“How close?” asked Rin, but she only received the answer, “Very,” Konoha’s android body beginning to visibly tremble.

“We’ll be alright,” Yukiteru said with certainty, cocking his head to the side and looking over his shoulder to where A-ya would be approaching. He wore a lopsided smile. “Hey.” He looked at Rika, who was peering up at him with Kincho nestled, frightened, in her tiny arms. “Thanks for standing up for me today.”

“I felt it was right,” she said simply, closing her eyes.

Shintaro glanced over to the Yato fight and saw that their side was managing to edge the god towards the hospital. Seemed Kaneki and Seidou were trying to pull the battle up to the rooftops, though Shirou couldn’t follow after a fight like that. The six of them (seven, Shintaro supposed, if you could count the armadillo) all felt the air rising in tension – as if it could get any thicker – as the albino android walked towards the edge of the roof opposite where everyone had gathered to watch the Yato fight.

With a loud crack, red lightning crashed over their rooftop, making Shintaro cry out and scrabble to the side as the cement fell in where the electricity struck. Hide reached out and caught Rika, who happened to be on a piece that had decided to give into gravity. Kincho squealed in distress, clinging to the ten-year-old. Hide pulled her up with remarkable ease – he noticed Yukiteru helping out with an easy wave of his hand. He seemed abnormally calm. “You alright?” Hide asked her. She nodded quickly.

Konoha, at the edge of their platform, had caught the possessed A-ya, who had charged at the android with crimson eyes ablaze. A grin had distorted his young face as he leaned close to albino, their pale hands pressed together. A-ya stood with his knees bent atop the railing bordering the roof, so that his face was level with the android’s. The demon spoke: “You really think you can hold me back, Vessel?

Konoha, gritting his teeth, pushed back against the possessed, feeling the crackling around them. There was a buzzing through his body; a tingling that he supposed might be ‘electric.’ His own eyes flickering from watermelon pink to luminescent red, he said, “I won’t let you win.” There was a sick splintering sound as A-ya’s wrist was unset and rebroken.

A-ya released a bark of deranged laughter before Konoha did it, shoving him hard enough to bend the railing and send him into the asphalt below. Rin and Hide ran up on either side of Konoha, Rin holding up her arm in preparation to curse him. Yukiteru followed, walking at a normal pace. His air still did not match the high-tension atmosphere.

“Will a curse work on a demon?” asked Hide hurriedly. “What if it, like, charges him up?”

“We’ll see about that,” the mage said.

“Curses work on him,” Rika piped in from just behind them.

“Keep back,” Rin said warningly, “I don’t want you hurt…”

There was an explosion of shattering glass and crackling crimson as the wall of the floor beneath them imploded with a literally shocking blast from the possessed kid on ground.

“What is he doing?” hissed Rin.

“Making us fall?” suggested Konoha.

“Wait a sec,” said Hide, wide-eyed. “Oh, man!” He wheeled around as A-ya bounded into the opening he’d made in the floor below. “Shintaro, look out!”

But as Hide tried to warn him, the possessed emerged from the hole he’d made in the roof and easily grasped at the NEET’s throat with his good hand, shoving him over to the railing.

“Oh, that’s not good,” remarked Yukiteru as Konoha screamed Shintaro’s name – the red-scarfed boy was kicked overboard, A-ya grasping at the ends of the scarf and dangling him over the edge.

He is human,” said A-ya with his possessor. “He will die if I drop him.” He smiled eerily as Konoha froze in his movement to attack. Looking horrified, Rin lowered her arm, knowing she couldn’t shoot.

Shintaro, grasping at the scarf that had belonged to his hero, struggled for air, gasping and choking and writhing to no effect. Three stories, he thought dimly, his vision hazing. That’s what Ayano jumped from…

Yukiteru, smiling softly, stepped forward with his palms raised to A-ya. “A-ya…” His voice was tentative.

A-ya gave a start. Seemed as though he hadn’t noticed Yukiteru’s presence. He stared back at his cloaked friend, hesitated, and then smiled the same eerie smile. “Oh,” he said. Thankfully, he sounded human. “Hi, Yukiteru.”

“Hi, A-ya,” Yukiteru answered, his tone calm. He was smiling warmly. Hide was watching Yukki with an expression of stone. Rin’s eyes were bulging, incredulous – she obviously thought this was a ridiculous attempt at defusing the situation. Rika hung back, holding the armadillo close. Hide put his hand on her back without expression.

Konoha’s eyes flicked from Yukki to A-ya. “Oh,” he murmured, “I see…”

“You know,” said Yukki conversationally, “you shouldn’t do that.”

A-ya looked at Shintaro, struggling weakly against his hanging. “You ever hear… the legend… of the hanged man?”

“A-ya,” Yukki repeated, softer, but firm.

“You’re right, I could… just tell you next time, of course. That would be fine.

“You should stop, A-ya.”

Stop?” He looked back at Shintaro, then at Yukki again. He grinned. “Fine, fine.” And he dropped him.

Shintaro felt the oxygen flood him blissfully, his head spinning – or was that the wind? He felt as though he were falling – he remembered being pushed from the balcony, and remembered how it was Ayano had died, and thought to himself that it wasn’t such a terrible way to go, but he couldn’t think straight and he didn’t want to die, he didn’t, and neither did Roppi, so why now—?

He felt the cold catch him, heard the distant clattering of something falling to the ground. He thought his eyes were closed at first, but as the darkness gradually ebbed from his vision, he realized that his lids were wide open. It was Konoha that had caught him. Before he knew it, he was being set gently, safely down on the ground and his android friend was leaving him behind, jumping back up. Evidently he thought that Shintaro was better off on ground level.

After A-ya had dropped Shintaro, he had rushed at the rest of them, eyes glimmering in amusement at Konoha’s move to save the red-scarfed one. “Clearly you don’t understand yet!” they cried, the air crackling as Rin shot a curse only for it to explode midair and knock everyone backwards but A-ya and Rin themselves. He grabbed at her, then, as Konoha came back up from below and grabbed at A-ya. Rin pressed her foot to A-ya’s chest, trying to get him off her. With Konoha at his back, A-ya couldn’t hold on long, so instead he whipped around and landed a kick to Konoha’s head, sending him staggering backwards.

I said STOP!” Yukiteru snapped, making a movement much like pitching a baseball which sent A-ya back over the railing onto the asphalt below. With a quick downward motion of his arm, then, everyone froze in place, feeling a sudden heaviness.

“You can’t just talk him out of this!” Rin snipped, her voice cracking. She was holding her throat gingerly where A-ya had grabbed her. She was running out of patience. “This isn’t the time for a compromise; what are you thinking?!”

I’m curious, too,” said the possessed, staring up at the five of them. “Yukiteru, you can’t think that this is going to go peacefully. You just—don’t get it, do you? No. You obviously can’t, if you’re still defending them. This game needs to be reset. These people need to die. That’s what it takes, you know… for the two of you to remain together.” His face smiled. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? Observer…

Rika looked nervously to Yukiteru, anticipating a reaction that didn’t come. The cloaked one only looked down with something akin to impassivity and said, “You can’t kill them.”

What makes you think that I can’t?” His voice was both indignant and mocking. “You can’t stop me.

“What makes you think,” Yukiteru answered, almost smirking, “that I can’t stop you?

A-ya spread his arms. “You can’t really keep thinking you can save everybody else. How many have you lost? All those friends are gone, right? Give in – it’s alright! Because then—you and I… will be able to spend time in the next route… and the next, and the next!

A-ya made a move to attack again, but Yukiteru stepped forward as well, shoving everyone else back with a sweep of his arms. A-ya faltered. “I said you can’t kill them.” He saw A-ya glance at someone else, scanning for openings, and said with more volume, “You can’t kill Rin.”

If you understood, this would be easier… Why not?

“Because she’s mine.”

A-ya was about to answer, but stopped, bemused. Rin’s head whipped to look at Yukiteru, blue eyes scrutinizing. What was that supposed to mean? Then she heard Rika’s murmuring: “A bluff?” Not that this calmed Rin down in the least. She still remembered the blank smile he’d given her after he’d stabbed her in the gut however many times; the way he humanized her even as he spoke about killing her. And why had he asked her name? She could hear him, still: “Because I haven’t killed you yet.” She could feel something cold trickling through her insides.

Yukiteru smiled a closed-eye smile at A-ya, tilting his head. A-ya stared, looking unsure. “I already decided that I was gonna be the one that killed Rin,” said the cloaked one. Her fears seemingly confirmed, Rin began to protest only to be grabbed by Yukiteru and pulled into a chokehold. He produced a knife from his cloak; the orange-handled one that Rika had left at the scene where Shinichi had died. Putting this to Rin’s throat shut her up right quick.

Despite Rika’s utterances, Konoha didn’t seem to know what to do. He looked at Rika again, who was watching Yukiteru intensely, her gaze desperate. Then he looked at Hide, whose expression was dark – but he had turned away, his eyes looking somewhere Konoha couldn’t find. He looked at A-ya, too, but the possessed one looked equally unsure of whether this was really what was going on. Then he looked over at the edge of the roof where he knew Shintaro was sitting somewhere below. Not that that would help. And then he looked at Yukiteru, but Konoha couldn’t tell a single bit about what he was thinking.

“I already started the job and everything,” Yukki continued. “I told her personally that it was my intention, didn’t I, Rin?” And he gave her the same smile he had right after Shinichi had died.

At first she felt afraid, but then cool indignance began to take over. Setting her jaw, she stood firm. “I never trusted you,” she spat, and to her annoyance, he laughed.

If you really intend to kill her, then do it,” the serpent said through A-ya’s mouth. His mouth curled, his tone challenging: “I’d like to see it.

Yukiteru appeared to hesitate. Perhaps he hadn’t foreseen a challenge like that? A bluff was a bluff, after all, if that’s what it was. Hide felt something cool on his cheek, and looked to the cloudy sky. It’s going to rain, he thought. He made no move to interfere with the scene before him.

“Alright,” said Yukiteru, very matter-of-fact. And simply, swiftly – almost gleefully – he took the knife in hand, pressed the blade into the flesh of Rin Tohsaka’s neck, and slit her throat.


All the sounds were muted in the morgue. Izaya stood with his hands in his pockets at the far end, near where a holographic-esque girl still lay undisturbed in a continuous, soft glitch. The lights overhead hummed while the broken fixture spat sparks here and there – apparently one of them had fallen, perhaps when they had been testing out the grenades. Thinking of the explosives, the informant’s bad hand tightened around the original, hidden in the pocket of his beige-trim jacket.

He felt a chill, and turned around to glance at the wall behind him for perhaps the fifteenth time. There was a slight discoloration to one of the wall’s panels, but Izaya hadn’t the time to investigate such a thing. For now he would just pocket the info for later… or however much later there would be, for him.

This thought did not comfort him much.

The lights swung threateningly as the building above him trembled. He watched the dust falling from the ceiling. Taking a deep breath, he put his good hand on the hilt of the Prophet. The structure above him shuddered again, and he released it again, eyes narrowing.

“Come on down, Yato…” He looked up at the ceiling where Yato was supposed to crash through. He felt amazingly patient. “Our time’s almost up.”


Yato was being effectively weakened, it being three on one. Thanks to Shirou’s aid, neither Seidou nor Kaneki activated their kakuja armor and ‘went ballistic,’ as Shirou so described. Seidou kept taking unnecessary hits, distracted by the fight now going on behind them, as well.

“If you help them,” Kaneki said, refusing to look behind him, “you will draw Yato towards them.”

Seidou didn’t say anything, knowing he was right. Grudgingly, he tore his gaze away from a scene that he swore involved Shintaro being held by the neck. He glanced back only once more to see that Konoha had that poor excuse of an eighteen-year-old in his arms. Oddly, Seidou felt something loosen in his chest. He didn’t receive any more injuries earned by distraction.

The next step was to get Yato into the basement of the hospital. Kaneki tried a few times to bat him onto the roof, but Yato kept landing sideways and kicking off from some outer wall to shoot back into them again. It was like trying to throw your pillow onto the top bunk at a sleepover, but you keep falling short. Only the pillow keeps jumping back at you, and your bed is five stories high. Also, your pillow wants to kill you.

Well, anyway, during one of these failed attempts, there was especially horrified shouting coming from the bakery. Seidou and Yato only spared a glance, but Kaneki and Shirou couldn’t help but look.

Shirou froze in his tracks, turning half around with his mouth agape, Rin was falling, there was red spilling from her, she was being cast to the side, it couldn’t be— “Tohsaka!” he screamed, about to run back over. In his distraction, he hadn’t the chance to block Yato as he came down at him from the wall of the hospital, stabbing through him and ripping the sword back out. Shirou tried to turn on the god, stunned, but only earned a slash over his front instead.

“Fucking BASTARD!” Seidou slammed into Yato, showering him with shards from his crimson wings. Kaneki, snapping out of it again, jumped up to the hospital roof as Seidou leapt into the air, Yato on his tail.

“I’m happy to see you’re not thinking through blind hunger anymore,” Yato said wryly, and Seidou swiftly kicked him, sending him well off-course and into the range of Kaneki’s attacks. With no control over where he was falling, Yato tried to right himself, grimacing. But Kaneki caught him with his foot; Yato swore he felt a rib crack, but he had no time to process it as he was slammed downwards and into the cement; he was hitting floor after floor but he couldn’t stop, no, not until at last he smashed into the harsh foundation that served as the flooring for the basement. His spine arched in agony, he turned quickly over onto his side and spat up blood. Sitting up, he wiped hastily at his mouth and looked quickly around, anticipating the next attack.

“Yo.”

Yato stiffened at the casual, snide tone he knew all too well before jumping to his feet in all haste, turning to Izaya Orihara in a fighting stance. His hands gripped tightly at the wooden hilt of Nora.

Izaya stood in front of him as though waiting for him – he probably had been. He had his hands in his pockets. Yato had expected that cold smile touching his face like it always did, but Izaya only looked at him, cool and impassive.

Oh, but Yato had broken him! Hadn’t he? Where had Izaya been since they’d last met? How much had changed? Yato felt Nora quiver in his hands, discontent running through the blade.

“What?” Izaya tilted his head a bit, maintaining his expressionless face. The only change was the narrowing of his eyes. “Don’t have anything to say? Not even ‘hello’? You could at least be coldly polite. Oh well.” Izaya stepped towards him, stopping after only a few strides. He extricated his hands from his pockets, spreading his arms in a half-shrug. Yato noticed that the stupid fur-trimmed jacket was zipped up all the way instead of open.

“Well…” Izaya looked at Yato; he couldn’t remember Izaya’s voice ever sounding so dissonant with the dead look in his eyes. “Why don’t we chat for a bit?”


The blood from Rin’s throat sprayed outward; her eyes rolled, mouth slack. She collapsed, and Yukiteru released her before kicking her body over the railing without any trace of remorse.

Shintaro, who had crept back up the stairs to the roof, shouted after her, calling her name. “What the hell is going on?!” he demanded, voice cracking. He’d missed the lead up to her death. “What is this?! What—?”

“Shut up,” said Yukiteru sweetly, turning to him with a smile. The blood mottling his face was rather effective in his message, it seemed, for Shintaro was immediately silent. Just as quickly, Konoha stepped between Yukiteru and Shintaro protectively. Both of them were looking from A-ya to Yukki and back again. Hide backed up a few paces, expression inscrutable.

Rika looked perfectly dismayed, cemented in place. “Yukiteru, you…”

Then there was A-ya, staring immobile not at Rin as her body fell in a heap to the asphalt, making an audible thud, but at Yukiteru. He just…? This didn’t feel right. He didn’t feel right.

What’s wrong?

But A-ya didn’t know. He couldn’t answer, only acknowledge what he could only identify as dread settling in the pit of his stomach. The feeling only got heavier when Yukiteru’s laughter rang out, echoing through the mostly empty streets. “Everyone’s so surprised!” he cried, mirthful. “Everyone’s so shocked! Even though this is the way it has to be, the only way it can be!” He looked down at A-ya, who looked back and wondered what his own face looked like. He couldn’t feel it, maybe Saeru was smiling with his mouth; he couldn’t tell. The whites of Yukki’s eyes were pronounced against the black of his hair and of his cloak. A-ya thought he’d seen as much sclera on his friend, but only out of fear or of fretful determination.

“You told me, didn’t you?” Yukki asked him, bringing him back to the present, coaxing him from the shelter of his subconscious. “And you know, it wasn’t you who did it, but I still lost everyone. Not Rika, as you can tell, but in case you don’t know, Minene’s dead. Celty’s dead. Akise’s dead. And I’ve thought about it; I’ve thought long and hard, A-ya.” He outstretched one of his hands, eyes narrowing and smile spreading. Were his blue eyes always the color of ice? “I want to dance in your dream.”

This didn’t feel good. He didn’t feel good at all. This feeling in the pit of his stomach, it crawled up into his chest, it held him in place, it was so weighted. He tried to think, but his processes kept getting blocked or diverted or lost…

Why aren’t you happy?

That’s right, why…?

The icy feeling in his gut was melted by the serpent’s warm pleasure, or was it his own? What was the difference? We are one and the same, aren’t we, Little Master? Of course we are. Why was I worried, again? He began to feel himself smiling, sensation returning to his physical self as everything slipped back into place. Yeah, this was where he should be. This was where they belonged. This was fine. The vision of him and Yukiteru clasping bloodstained hands flickered in his mind’s eye. Dyed the shade of their favorite form of red, running towards the beginning again…

“You’ve been suffering alone all this time,” Yukiteru continued, “and as crazy as it seems, you really did only want to be together again, after all. You were right; all I needed to close the distance between us was to join you.” His expression became apologetic. “I’m sorry, A-ya. I took so long.”

No need to apologize!” they answered gleefully. “Time means nothing; you should understand that now, right? So it doesn’t matter, not at all… For us to be together, that’s enough!”

“After all, to me, A-ya’s still my first friend…”

Yukiteru!” Rika snapped, freeing herself from her cemented horror. “You mean to tell me that you will be the one who leads us to another tragedy? We can’t! I can’t anymore!”

Yukki looked at her and smiled mildly. “Don’t you want to see Minene again? Or Roy?”

She faltered. “Maybe so, but I do not wish to lose them again!”

Maybe you could save them next time, Princess,” said the possessed one, sneering up at her.

“I don’t want to hear that from you, who killed Roy! Yukiteru, don’t you understand?! We need to end this while we can! We’ve finally made it this far, and if it were to start again—I… I don’t know that I…!” She shook her head, unable to speak any further.

“She’s right!” Shintaro spoke boldly. “It doesn’t matter whether or not I want Roppi back, or Shirazu, or Tsuki—even Ayano, that’s right, Kuroha. Why would I want any of them to go through this game again? We shouldn’t have to repeat anymore – we want this to end!

“Don’t you remember?” Rika demanded. “This game is fake. We need to end the dream.

“How can this be… the right thing,” said Konoha, “…when you just killed somebody? How scary… and, sad. Rin was, so nice.”

If you do not back down,” said Rika, her voice taking on a frightening quality, “I will make sure the pieces fit for our ending. If you threaten our ending, I will end you, if I have to.

Yukiteru had begun to shake in the progression of these accusations, but instead of apologies, he started laughing again, a full laugh that resounded cruelly around them. “You act like I haven’t considered all of this! These arguments mean nothing to me anymore! All of you don’t understand, that’s all… Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

Not very kind of them, is it?” said the possessed and his possessor. “So who goes first? If we’re forcing a reset, shall we do it together? That’s what you want, right? It’s a win-win for everyone here! Even if everyone dies, you have more lives, an infinity of second chances! It’s all you could want and more!” At the cold glare they’d earned from Rika, they only smiled wider. “What do you say, Yukiteru? Who do you want? How do you wanna do it? You don’t have to dirty yourself more if you don’t want, really! It’s okay even if I die, right? Because I’ll meet up with you next time! Just help me make sure the job’s done, that’s all! In fact, there’s no need to be waiting around too much longer, it’s not like we’re playing hide-and-seek this time around. And we wouldn’t want the half-ghouls interrupting our party.” Here, he jumped up onto the roof again, where all but Yukiteru backed up. “It doesn’t matter who dies, that’s right, since we’ll be together—even if you died, I’d forgive you, you know.”

Yukiteru only smiled at A-ya as the possessed one’s mouth twisted into a horrible grin. The air began to crackle around him, he was apparently charging up. Hide, who hadn’t made any comment through this whole exchange, removed his hand from his pocket, brandishing his little stone knife. No way, thought Hide. He isn’t gonna kill Yukki, too, is he? He drew his lips together, remaining composed. No, it’d make sense, under that twisted logic of his… Either way, it’s still messed.

“It’s all a play, Yukiteru,” A-ya continued, taking a step forward from the railing. His words began to come slower. “You’ve said your lines, so it’s time to play my role… as the evil hero—we’ve got to reset the actors on stage, so let’s dance one more time!

Just as A-ya was about to strike, the electricity creating a literally static atmosphere, Yukiteru grabbed him by the tie that had been drained of its color, yanked him forward, and kissed him. They collided like meteors, perhaps – think of galaxies igniting, or of the times in a storm where the lightning fizzles but does not strike, buzzing under the threshold of its tangibility. It was this static that filled the spaces between all of them, all six of them. The lightning did not strike, now, but petered out as a different kind of shock settled in A-ya.

By the time he was released, he still had nothing to say. Yukiteru was smiling, still smiling. A-ya could hardly process the pain radiating outward from where Yukki pulled the knife from his back.

“Sorry, A-ya.”


“Don’t go and stay silent this whole time, Yato…” Izaya stepped over a stray body, advancing slowly to the god that had somehow become his rival. Yato pointed his sword at him, threatening, and Izaya came to a halt. His mouth twitched. “Are you going to actually kill me this time?”

Yato only narrowed his luminescent eyes further. Overhead, the dim lights buzzed gently. There was otherwise no sound nor answer.

“Do you know where we are, Yato?” Izaya spread his arms. Knowing Yato wouldn’t answer him, he continued, “It’s the morgue. Those who were laid to rest here are the ones who perished in the girls’ round. Look at the tables, Yato. What do you s—?” He jumped backwards as Yato swung at him. Being only human, and an injured human at that, Izaya still received a nice slash over his chest. Staggering backwards, he fell to one knee, laughing breathily. He looked up at Yato, who now stood on one of the empty tables, posture straight.

“I take it…” said Izaya weakly, “…that you still won’t kill me?”

“Don’t go placing bets,” Yato answered. Consumed with sudden mirth, the informant bowed his head and shook with it, trying not to laugh for fear of vomiting blood again. He was in no shape to be fighting with anyone – he was in no shape to be running around at all, for that matter. No use thinking about that now. “What’s so funny?” Yato frowned.

Izaya shook his head, clutching at his chest as he got back to his feet, swaying just slightly. “Not funny. But you spoke, finally… Aren’t you eager, Yato-san? I told you I’d like a chat, not a sparring match.”

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

“I wouldn’t want to talk to me either,” he scoffed. “But as you can see, I’m not really in the best state to battle right now – you’d know, wouldn’t you?” He straightened up properly, lowering his arm from his chest and sticking his hands back in his pockets. Tilting his head, he said, “No, you see, I have a question for you.”

“No guarantee that I’ll answer.” Yato’s tone was biting.

Izaya noticed Yato’s cerulean eyes flicking over to the bodies of Hiyori and Ayano from time to time; he swore that even in this lighting, he could make out the paling tone of his skin. Izaya couldn’t help but smile at this. “Tell me,” he said, shifting his weight to his good leg. “You’re a god, aren’t you? What’s Heaven like?”

Yato’s gaze finally locked onto Izaya, a trace of irate confusion furrowing his expression. He searched the informant’s own face, but Izaya’s eyes were placid, distant.

“Is it beautiful?” Izaya asked. “I’ve wondered for a long, long time. I didn’t have faith in anything for a while, but I fancied the thought of an end like ‘Heaven’… Me, I couldn’t settle for the thought of disappearing after death. I’m also not so ignorant as to believe I could make it to Heaven. If I could bring it to earth, I would. But at this point, it’s not looking like I’ll ever accomplish such a feat.”

Yato’s lips thinned. He did not answer.

“I’m the kind of person, you see, who wouldn’t mind going to Hell so long as I could recall my own existence.” He removed his hands from his pockets, spreading his arms in a half-shrug again. “But all things considered… I figured I’d have to ask. Maybe I’ll even believe what you say. Do beings like you belong in Heaven? Monsters like you?”

“There are many merciless deities in the heavens of my realm,” Yato answered at last, and Izaya’s eyes flickered. “There are also plenty of gentle ones. I am part of neither party. I have no place in Heaven… nor have I ever.”

They looked at one another in silence for some time. Yato waited for Izaya to question this fact – was it that he wasn’t a god after all? What a pathetic excuse of a deity! No wonder no one believed in him—

No one, except for… Yato didn’t dare look directly over to the pair of bodies laid out on two tables nearby.

But the snide remark didn’t come. Instead, Izaya said, “Is that so? Where, then, do you go when you die, Yato?”

No answer, now.

“Do you simply disappear? Is it that you have no soul?” It wasn’t mockingly said; rather, he seemed thoughtful. “That’s fine… we both know my heart’s nothing more than a decoy. Does that mean we two are the same after all? If you can call yourself a god, what does it take to make myself ‘holy’? Well, that’s taking it a bit far, isn’t it? Rather… ‘Monsters,’ ‘humans,’ or ‘gods,’ they’re all ‘people,’ right? Or so someone told me. But if that’s true, we two are nothing more than the copies of every person before us. It doesn’t matter what we’re made of, or what world we’re from, because every world is filled with liars… liars like you and I.

“This basement, therefore, is a mausoleum fit for both of us.” Here, Izaya smiled, his eyes staring through the one facing him. “You’ve already erased me – you proved my existence wrong… But if both of us are liars, and the only judge for a liar is themselves… If we are one and the same, then…”

Yato’s eyes thinned to slits, but Izaya didn’t seem to be truly looking back at him anymore.

“I wondered whether I, a human in the physical sense of the word, could defeat a god. You were right; it just wouldn’t do to fight from behind the scenes. I need to be on the front lines. I am, after all, a coward. Or… I was.” He pulled the grenade from his pocket, pulling the pin with his opposite hand. The thumb of his injured hand was pressed on the spoon firmly. “When last we met, you gave me exactly what I deserved; I have no right to complain about that. But god or not, you still have some karma to answer to…”

“Are you going to set off that bomb?” Yato asked lowly.

“Why else would I pull the pin?”

“You can’t expect to end me so easily…” Yato, however, couldn’t help feeling uneasy about the distant look in Izaya’s eyes. There had to be something more. Annoyingly enough, he found himself wishing for at least a smug spark in Izaya’s eyes, but there was only darkness. Izaya looked back at him, Yato, with nothing but a distant look that made the god feel strangely as though he’d lost something. But what was there to lose?

“If this building were to come crashing down on us, Yato,” said Izaya, approaching him nice and slow, “do you think we’d make it?”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I’ve never been more serious, Yato.” Izaya released the spoon. He did not smile, only narrowed his eyes in a focused gaze to his rival. “I’m giving you exactly what you deserve.” He threw the bomb up into the hole where Yato had fallen through, jumping up onto the table where Yato was.

“Hiiro, release! Get out of—!”

Izaya made a move for him, and Yato blocked with his arm. Izaya only grabbed ahold of it. At the same time, Nora was cast from her sword form. She tried to protest, but before anything else could happen, the grenade above exploded.

Yato thought, perhaps, that he saw a smile finally break out on Izaya’s god-forsaken face.

 

Chapter 101: Remnants

Chapter Text

 

“Ya think that’ll do it?”

Kaneki looked away from the gaping hole in the hospital’s roof and back at Seidou, then closed his eyes. “I think so. Izaya wanted us to leave them be. Let’s go to Shirou.”

They returned to the street, where Shirou was using a streetlamp pole to get to his feet, breathing hard and keeping an arm to his chest where he’d been slashed. It didn’t stop him from dripping globs of blood to the pavement, his chin running with red.

“Ya wanna die?” Seidou barked as Kaneki hurried to steady him.

“You may want to sit down for now,” Kaneki urged him, but Shirou only shook his head.

“Toh…saka…ch…n,” he said thickly, stepping forward and nearly collapsing before Kaneki caught him, sitting him down with his back to the streetlight. “I need… to, save…”

“There ain’t nothing you can do,” Seidou snipped.

Shirou turned his head to look at Seidou, his gold-brown eyes glassy. The fresh red staining him matched the color of his hair. “Need, to… save… I, can’t… Don’t want… everyone, to… die, again…”

“It’s going to be alright,” urged Kaneki, glancing back over to the scene at the bakery and wondering if perhaps he should find Hide and use the medical supplies. Clicking his tongue, he went to try and rip off a piece of his short sleeve, but Seidou waved him off, removing his black cloak to reveal the black, high-collar sleeveless shirt beneath it. Without a word, he began ripping off fabric from the bottom of the cloak, shoving it to Kaneki for him to use. Kaneki blinked.

“The clothes; we need to stop the blood,” Seidou muttered, ripping open Shirou’s shirt.

Shirou shook his head. “No… not me, don’t help—me, I don’t…”

“Calm down,” Kaneki said, taking Shirou by the shoulders, stilling him so he could wrap up his chest and stomach. “More cloth.”

“Got it,” Seidou said shortly.

Kaneki’s hands faltered over the puncture wound in Shirou’s gut. Stomach—he got the pancreas…

“What’re you stoppin’ for?” Seidou pressed. “C’mon!”

Kaneki wrapped this as well. “Help me lay him down,” he said, and Seidou did so despite Shirou’s weak protests. Kaneki glanced over at Seidou, looking at his serious, perhaps pained, gaze. Working together like this, Kaneki recalled his first meeting with Seidou Takizawa the ghoul investigator, who chose to aid him in their attempt to save Delic. Regardless of the circumstances, Kaneki felt some hope knowing that Seidou really was still Seidou, somewhere.

“You don’t understand,” Shirou choked out. “I need to. I need to keep going. I have to. I need to—protect—”

“There’s nothing you can do right now,” Kaneki told him gently.

“Then I—” Shirou’s voice broke, and his expression contorted in something like regret, or perhaps agony. “I’m not—strong enough, am I?”

Kaneki didn’t have an answer for him. He put a pale hand in Shirou’s red hair, eyes hazing. His words were all too similar to his own thoughts. He could not assure him, for he couldn’t even assure himself.

“Sure you are,” said Seidou, and Kaneki looked at him in mild surprise. “What are you fighting for?”

“My—I’m, what do you…?” Shirou struggled to look at him.

“You’re a passionate kid.” The one-eyed spoke with only a trace of bitterness. Then his tone softened. “Reminds me of someone I knew. Tell me, what’s a hero?”

“It’s… someone—who…”

“It’s someone who cares, Shirou,” Seidou said matter-of-factly. “And on top of it, they do something about it. You’ve been working hard at it even since you’ve gotten here. Or was all that bold talk just for show?”

“N-no, it’s—not…”

“I made it farther than you did. I’ve already been all hollowed out and rotted. You’ve still got your dreams.”

“My… ideal?” Kaneki’s chest ached at how broken he sounded. “But what if… that was a lie… after all? And I…?”

“Didn’t you hear me? You’ve still got something good. They’re not all twisted and jaded… Ya gotta tell me you won’t let go of that dream, no matter what. Understand?”

Shirou’s eyes were shining. He could barely speak. Kaneki kept pressing on the puncture to his abdomen, willing the blood to stop. “What’s the point, if…?”

“Rin will be fine,” Seidou said simply. “You’ll be fine. You’ll see her soon; I’ll take you there.”

“But…”

“You’re capable of more than you think.”

“I… of course, I… won’t—let go of that… It’s what, I’ve always… based my life on…”

It is better to be hurt than hurt others, thought Kaneki, closing his eyes against the scene.

“If you can save just one person, it makes all the difference,” Seidou said carefully, and Shirou’s eyes widened. “Right? What was it your father taught you?”

“I… I…”

Beside them, the hospital exploded, and Kaneki and Seidou shielded Shirou as best they could from the shockwave and the debris. Kaneki’s kagune emerged, slicing through large pieces of wall. The rising explosion erupted out and up, its crackling fury rising skyward. The building creaked and groaned before slowly, slowly falling in on itself. The fire flared again, rising in the sky so fully, so extravagantly that it must have been unnatural.

“It’s happening again…,” Shirou whispered. The conflagration, indeed, and why hadn’t he noticed the staunch smell of iron? The crackling was deafening; he couldn’t stand the heat. “Again, I didn’t…”

“You’ll be okay,” said Seidou firmly, and Shirou looked at him, his eyes clearing from their visions of somewhere in the fiery past.

The injured began to sit up, and Kaneki held him down again, shaking his head. Instead, Shirou reached to Seidou, who took his hand, face stone. “I told you… I’ve been to Hell already. Just because… you’ve been there doesn’t mean… you’re dead, just yet, Seidou… So… take care of them, then… would you? I don’t care what you’ve done before… Just…”

“It’s too late,” said the half-ghoul with some impatience, “for me to become a hero. But—”

“Can’t be. You got here—because you followed your ideal… didn’t you? For better or worse?”

Seidou didn’t answer, recalling the night he’d been taken in as a prisoner of war. The way they shattered his ideals. The way they shattered him.

“If you did it for that… then… would you, again, go to Hell?” Shirou asked him, fading voice breaking.

“Shirou…,” said Kaneki, voice soft.

“Because I would,” he whispered.

Seidou was silent, holding firmly onto him. He wanted to tell Shirou that the Seidou he was reaching to had died in the Hell he spoke of; the prison where he was kept as an experiment to toy with. He wanted to tell him that it really was too late for himself, that Shirou was just being naïve and would one day grow bitter if he’d only live long enough. Would he? But seeing him lying here in a pool of his own blood, the fear drained from his eyes, Seidou just didn’t have the heart to do it. In fact, he almost dared believe in the Shirou that believed in him. Holding him, he was so solid; real. This kid willed him to remember what it was he used to fight for, and for just a moment, he recalled what it was like to brandish his quinque in the face of fear, confronting death and standing against whatever consequence awaited him as long as it was the right thing to do. Even if it led him to Hell. Even if it had taken this long to recollect such stale conviction. If he were to have the chance to start again, would he make the same choices? Would he still make the move to save his hero, Amon, even though he knew what the result would be? Would he knowingly travel to where he knew Hell would await him? And if he did, would he be able to keep himself this time?

“I would too, Shirou,” he said, holding tighter to his hand. A smile was just barely discernable on his blackened mouth. Somehow, he felt as though he’d saved something after all, or perhaps regained it. No matter what happened next, Shirou would remain alive, it felt. Or maybe it was Seidou Takizawa that had been revived.

Weakly, Shirou’s mouth upturned. “Protect Tohsaka-chan… and Shintaro… and the others… would you?”

Seidou’s single eye narrowed just slightly, and Kaneki looked at him. “I’ve got ‘em. Don’t worry about it.”

“Thank you,” he murmured, his grip loosening on Seidou’s own hand. His eyes dulled and closed, and Kaneki lowered him back to the pavement, feeling for a pulse with grim expression. He looked at Seidou, whose head was bowed. They knelt in silence.

“We should get back to the others, then,” said Seidou plainly, getting to his feet. As Kaneki was about to agree, another scream rang through the streets. With a quick, urgent glance exchanged between the two of them, they ran back over to the bakery.


The upper floor exploded with a deafening roar. The screams of spirits couldn’t be heard above it – if there had been, neither Izaya nor Yato could tell. Izaya liked to think he could make out a pained cry from the jaded spirit called Nora, but in truth there was only the sound akin to thunder, and the shaking ground beneath them; the way the air vibrated, the way the lights flickered and blew out in flashes of bright light that matched the brightness of the bombs above, and the crumbling world collapsing in on them—

—And then, darkness.

The silence rang. It had happened so fast that Izaya couldn’t even recall where he had been hurt, or if he had. What position was he in? He couldn’t feel himself. Perhaps, ah, was it that he was dead?

But the pain trickled back into his system as the ringing continued. He felt as though a rod had been jabbed straight through his ribcage; he tried moving, and felt something like gravel against his fingertips. The rod-through-the-chest feeling grew sharper, and he grimaced. Dimly, he heard the sounds of concrete fragments falling. Opening his eyes, slow, so slow, he could make out only shadows around him, jagged and stone-like. The light entering his pupils was of a violet hue, dim. Flickering.

Gradually, he gathered his bearings. He was lying on his stomach, his arms laid out in front of him. The rubble around him obscured anything from being construed. He thought he could make out the ceiling (if you could call it a ceiling) being threateningly low. He conjectured that he currently was nestled in a pocket underneath a huge pile of broken building, a cover that could easily collapse in on him and bury him for good. I didn’t think that it would be so easy to end us three at once. He tried to laugh drily, but choked instead. He tasted iron. His head spun. He distantly thought of the possibility of being buried alive, dying slowly in this small space instead of being killed swiftly by his little trap. He shut his eyes against the image, and thought to try and get up instead.

Trying to roll over, he grimaced at his ribs’ protest. He thought he remembered Yato throwing him away from himself as the ceiling collapsed. Had he broken some ribs at that time? Maybe.

Pushing himself up with his arms, he tried to move his legs into a kneeling position with only moderate success – his left leg was stuck. Gasping at the shooting pain (and consequently sending more pain through his chest), he halted for a moment to press a hand to his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut as he fended off the nausea. When the pain subsided enough for him to breathe, he turned to look back at his immobile leg to try and make out what the problem was. He could just make out the beginning of his appendage before it disappeared in what appeared to be an abyss. Feeling around, he found that it was trapped under the rubble. After trying to unbury it without success, he grunted in disapproval, looked around, and found nothing else. He felt his side – he still had the Prophet. He felt his pockets – he still had his switchblade.

Well then… He knelt on his one free leg, palms pressed to the rubble. Bracing himself, he put his good foot flat as he could against the wreckage burying him, gritted his teeth, and pushed with all his might. He could feel the straining, his buried and broken bones scraping together as his leg scraped the rubble atop it until it at last the building gave in and released him. He tumbled forward with a pained shout, immediately clutching at his injured leg, face screwed up in agony. Oh, that hurt; it hurt quite a lot.

Unwillingly groaning, he tried to make progress forward at a crawl, hacking up some blood on the way. Wiping at his mouth, he found an opening upward in his enclosed pocket space that led to a larger, slightly less claustrophobic space. He looked tiredly to what he found to be the flickering light source: the items pillar from the second floor, lying lopsided among the debris. It continued to pulse its perpetual purple light.

Looking around again, he assessed the new situation at hand, his breathing haggard. Crawling from his little tunnel, he attempted to get to his feet, using the fragments of building as support. He could stand up straight here, but his broken leg couldn’t hold any weight. Absently wiping at his crimson-leaking mouth again, he made out mostly the wreck of the morgue. He tried to figure out where the tables might be, and noticed the heads of the girls Hiyori and Ayano protruding on slabs that were slightly less jagged – he could only presume it was the tables. As he turned away from them, he swore he saw a flash of luminescent red, but upon looking back saw nothing. Frowning, he continued to search. Where were Yato and Nora?

His eyes had adjusted to this light by now, but it was still difficult to see with the unevenness of the floor, casting deep shadows all around. But it didn’t take long – there he was, Yato, lying on his back over the uneven floor. Izaya’s gaze rested on him, and he felt something burning inside that he didn’t even pretend to think was the pain of his likely-broken ribs.

“Yato…”

Was he alive? Watching him from where he stood, Izaya caught the slight rise and fall of the god’s chest. The broken informant felt his mouth stretch.

“Now it’s just me, and you.”

He knew he was likely still unconscious. Izaya unsteadily started forward, limping heavily. His plan was scrapped, caught up in this moment of opportunity. He was possessed by his own broken bonds. Shaky, he drew the Prophet from its sheath. It was too quiet. Nothing answered him.

“You—were right, you know, Yato.” He felt the burning get swallowed with ice, and the night filled him, leaving him hollow. Even the pain began to drain from him. “I’m not alive, anyway. I… was using other people to be alive. Right? I live vicariously through others. That’s—what you said, isn’t it? Well, that’s right. Izaya… would therefore, have nothing to fight for, would he?” He took another hobbling step. “But Yato… If I live vicariously through others…” Another step. “Izaya has nothing, but… I know a few lost souls who do have something.” Another. “Someone like Twelve, who you’ve killed, has every reason to fight you, doesn’t he? Through me, he can set fire to this place… to you.”

He was beginning to advance faster – he could no longer feel the pain. “Through me, his resonating terrorism can still be heard, can’t it? That’s right… This, is for—Twelve.” He recalled the way the terrorist casually went over the facets of Izaya’s existence, assuring him of the necessity of bonds of the heart. “It’s for Suzuya.” What was it he had said about fallen angels? What color had Yato been dyed, then? Izaya felt the raw scream that had torn through the albino’s throat when Twelve was killed. “For Akise…” His scrutinizing rose eyes peered through him; a smile touched the boy detective’s lips. Izaya was raising the Prophet, now. “…for Celty…” Celty’s kindness trickled like her shadows through his memories. Truly, could he become Yato’s reaper? “…for Shizuo…” The gentle look that so plagued Izaya did not haunt him now, but sent him forward. This was the monster Yato had created. “…for Yukine…” Not even Yukine would spare Yato mercy now, would he? “…and for Izaya Orihara, the one you erased.” He was almost on him, bringing the sword back and lifting it high. “I am fighting, Yato. I don’t care if it’s through them or for myself, here I am, Yato – here I am!

He thought perhaps Yato had awoken, his eyes flickering in the darkness. Without hesitation, Izaya slashed downward.

The blade came.


Yato came to in hazy confusion. He shifted, and felt his hand skim smooth linoleum. Where…? His eyes came into focus – the lights were on but flickering. Where was this? He sat up abruptly – he didn’t recognize this place. Did I perform divine possession? But—no, this is still my body… Wait, I’m healed?

He looked around: a black couch was against the far wall, and three doors leading out. There were trails of blood smearing the floor, and… He blinked at a head departed from its missing shoulders. It was just the head of a girl with brown hair and—the familiarity twisted his insides and released them; it wasn’t Hiyori—two red clips misplaced in her bangs. “Who…?”

“That’s mine.”

He stiffened at the soft voice just behind him, and turned abruptly to see the very face resting on the floor a meter away from him. Being a god, he was used to dealing with spirits, so this wasn’t all that big of a deal. But still, nothing like this had happened in this realm, and the suddenness combined with this unrecognizable situation made his heart skip a beat. He narrowed his eyes at her, but she only smiled gently and straightened up. Looking up at her, he could see her brown locks tucked into a crimson scarf wrapped loosely around her neck, her black school uniform, and small hands clasped behind her back. Her likeness to Hiyori was uncanny. He swallowed. No, it wasn’t her, he knew that much, but then…

“Do you know who I am, Yato?” she said without looking at him, and he turned away. “My name is Ayano Tateyama; it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He drew his lips into a thin line. “How did I get here? I want an explanation.”

“Well, you’re not dead yet,” she said thoughtfully.

“Where am I?” he growled.

“The northernmost building of the city,” she said simply. “Where I died, and where Takane died… well, Ene. Where Shiro, the Wretched Egg, died. It’s also B-ko’s resting place… and more importantly, Hiyori’s.”

“What—?”

“I brought you here. You see, after I died, I attained the Favoring Eyes. That’s my power.” She smiled and finally looked at him directly, her chocolate irises swirling into crimson. Their red luminescence shared a likeness with A-ya’s possessed gaze, but he couldn’t deny that hers was far warmer. “I can project feelings… emotions…” She looked to the open door to their right. “…and memories,” she added, and Yato felt as though someone had just trickled cold water down his insides. A crash shook the building around them, and the lights flickered and went out. With his deity’s sight, he could still see in the dark. Glancing back at Ayano’s glowing crimson orbs, he figured she could see fine, too.

He could hear shouting now; battle cries. He recognized one of the voices to be of his old rival, the goddess Bishamonten. He was frozen in place. This felt wrong. This felt so wrong. He couldn’t make out what she was saying, too caught up in a whirlwind of thoughts and his constricting chest. “Why…” he said lowly, “…did you take me here?”

“I’m showing you what you need to see.”

“I don’t need to see this—”

“Haven’t you at all wondered who it was that killed Hiyori? Why she died?”

“I don’t—want—”

“I know.”

He looked at her again, but she was only looking to the doorframe, a rectangle of darkness that appeared to lead to an abyss. Yato couldn’t help but wait and watch with her. Flashes of crackling red and purple would occasionally strike through the dark.

“I’m sorry,” said Ayano.

It was a girl of perhaps fourteen dragging Hiyori back through the door they were watching with rapt attention. Hiyori was just the same as he remembered – her brown hair, lavender school uniform, magenta scarf and all… Yato felt his chest seize—was she already dead?—but then caught sight of the slight breathing motion of her chest. She was sleeping – as a half-phantom, Hiyori’s spirit often slipped out of her body, leaving her physical self asleep while her soul went about doing its own thing.

On cue with his relief (and how ridiculous that relief was; she was still dead in the present and he knew it), he could hear her voice ringing out in a war cry of her favorite wrestling move: “Jungle… SAVATE!

Yato brought a hand to his mouth, bowing his head as harsh and childish cackling answered her shout. It mocked her.

“She and Bishamonten are facing Eto, now,” Ayano explained, not that Yato cared right then. “She’s a one-eyed ghoul… like Kaneki or Seidou, but naturally born. She’s the one who killed Ene. Hers and my bodies are still in the room they’re fighting in right now. We’re going to follow B-ko with Hiyori’s physical form.”

Yato finally looked at the one holding onto Hiyori’s body. She was sweating and looked horribly pale. Her purple eyes were brimming with fear. Her cropped brown hair was adorned with a single red ribbon that matched her red-plaid skirt. “Hi…Hiyori, I’m sorry… I’m trying…” She shifted to pull Hiyori up further, wrapping her arms around her chest, under her armpits. “Please… I’ve gotta go faster… I’ve got to…” And she pulled Hiyori back, farther into the room. The one called B-ko looked around frantically before turning to drag Hiyori back into the door next to the couch. Seemed she couldn’t see either Yato nor Ayano. “Come on; come on…”

Ayano put a hand to Yato’s back, and he unwillingly got to his feet – he knew he had to. Together, they followed after them. It was a rather eerie feeling Yato had – he was used to being unnoticed by humans; that was nothing. But already knowing that Hiyori and B-ko both would meet their demise here was like spotting someone and noticing a reaper following after them. God or not, it was still a sobering revelation. And for Hiyori to be involved…

Yato thought he felt rather ill.

“Why—do you gotta leave me—all alone, here?” B-ko screwed her eyes shut as she sank against the wall and slid to the floor, Hiyori still in her arms. “I-I can’t do this. I can’t…” She shakily wiped away at tears spilling from desperation. “P-please don’t come this way… I-I don’t want… to—to d—” She choked out a sob. Only human, B-ko couldn’t see anything but pitch black. She felt the foundation quake beneath her, holding tightly onto Hiyori’s unresponsive body. Eto’s cackling laughter echoed and echoed. A loud crash reverberated, and she covered her ears, shutting her eyes and whimpering. “Nooo…”

After the crash subsided, so too did her shivering. A stillness settled, and she opened her eyes, wide and unseeing. “I can’t just keep doing nothing, though…,” she whispered. “At this rate, I really will… di—” She clamped a hand over her own mouth. Shook her head. “I won’t. I have to make it home. I can at least do that. In this kind of situation… C’mon, B-ko, you have a goddess on your side… And—a half-phantom, like… how supernatural is that?” She laughed weakly. “In a position like this—what… what would A-ya do?”

Yato stared at her, understanding the connection. She must have been from the same realm as him. Had A-ya, too, found out that B-ko had died? Just like he had Hiyori? What was their relationship, he wondered? He looked at the sleeping form of what he had lost, and felt his chest get spliced again. He closed his eyes, lowering his head. He couldn’t watch this anymore. It hurt.

He turned to leave the two echoes of those once living, but a warm hand gripped him by the wrist. He looked to see Ayano, her brow furrowed, eyes shining red. Slowly, she shook her head at him. “Wait,” she said. And he did.

The subtle sound of a single droplet falling into a crystalline pond filled the room. Yato stiffened right along with B-ko, turning abruptly to an open restroom door where Nora now stood, her fingers folded gracefully together. Her spirit self was luminescent alone, as though the shadows could not touch her. B-ko let out a broken noise, and Nora smiled. “Hello again,” said the Shinki.

Yato tore his gaze from his current weapon only as B-ko drew a pair of blue-handled scissors from her jacket pocket. “Y—you…!”

“Yes, it’s me.” Nora tilted her head, just slightly. “Don’t tell me you’re mad at me for killing that Yuno Gasai… She was going to be the demise of all of you anyway. Maka was right about that much.” She took a step forward, and B-ko pointed her scissors at the other, getting to her feet.

“Don’t take another step, or I’ll—” She faltered. “I-I’ll—”

Nora obliged, halting and bringing a sleeve to her smiling mouth as she giggled. “You’ll what? What do you think you can do against a full spirit? You do know that’s what I am, right?”

“So, a… a-a ghost?”

“Yes, something like that.”

“Why… are you here? You’re not a part of—their group…”

“No, I’m not a part of Group 5,” Nora admitted.

“Where’s the rest of yours?”

“Oh, they’re resting elsewhere.”

“Wh—why are you…?”

“…Here?” Nora smiled at B-ko and took another step forward, at which B-ko stepped up and acted as a barrier between Hiyori’s body and the intruder. “Really, you misunderstand… I’m here to help you.”

B-ko only kept holding onto those scissors, her hands trembling. All she could see in the dark was the softly luminous image of Nora. B-ko was comprised of static; her trepidation consumed her insides. “H—how do I know you’re not—not lying?”

“Mm, that’s a good question.” She looked upwards, thoughtful. “You see, I’m from the same world as that girl, there. Also the same as Bishamonten. In fact, I work for deities like her. I’m meant to be a weapon for the gods.” Smiling, she lifted her kimono sleeves to reveal the red names marking her skin. “Look at how many have given me a weapon’s title. Look at how many gods I call ‘master.’”

B-ko furrowed her brow, wary. She swallowed. “Isn’t that a little… I mean—is there any one god—that you’re specifically loyal to? How does that—work?”

“You wouldn’t have heard his name,” Nora answered simply.

“So in your realm, when people die, they become gods’ weapons… like—like angels!”

“Something like that.” The spirit smiled again, her doll’s smile. “We weapons, or ‘Shinki,’ are what you might call ‘lost souls.’ Those who pass on successfully do not become Shinki.”

“Oh, I see…” B-ko had lowered the scissors slightly. She laughed a bit, but it came out as a nervous titter. “Then… do you work for Bishamon?”

“No, not her.”

“Then, why…?”

“I told you; I’m here to help you.” Nora nodded to the sleeping form behind B-ko. “With that one.”

“But why do you want to h—”

“You wouldn’t know this, being a human, but half-phantoms like her are very… lowly beings.”

“Lowly?” B-ko repeated, glancing back at Hiyori.

“You can’t trust them,” she half-shrugged. “If I’d had the chance after killing Yuno Gasai, I would have spared you the trouble of her, as well.”

“Wh—what do you mean? Hiyori’s really nice!” But her wide eyes kept flicking behind her, as if Hiyori’s motionless body would jump up to grab her.

“Has your group been finding any difficulty in this game?” Nora asked abruptly, and B-ko hesitated.

“What do you mean? Difficulty? We’re doing alright—really, we’re doing fine. It’s fine. We’re fine.”

“You have one of the seven gods of fortune on your side… don’t you think you should have gotten farther along by now?” said Nora, ever so patient.

“Well, I… but that… isn’t anyone’s fault, really…”

“She’s holding your group back. You don’t…” – here her mouth curled upward again – “…know her like I do.”

“What do you…?” B-ko swallowed. She appeared to think on this, her complexion paling further. Even as Nora drew forward, the human only stayed rooted in place, incapable of moving at all.

“Please, let me help you. It was… B-ko, wasn’t it?” She exuded her jaded warmth as she brought one pale hand to the scissors’ blades, gently lowering the weapon and tilting her head before holding her other hand out to the human. B-ko hesitated. “This a game, B-ko… someone has to win, don’t they? Just because you’re on the same team doesn’t mean you’ll make it out together. Didn’t the Master already specify this? That there would come a time for everyone to fight for themselves?”

“I—”

“I’d suggest you take action before she turns against you.”

Trembling, B-ko was caught in Nora’s gaze. Her fingers loosened around the scissors, and they fell with a clatter to the linoleum. B-ko began to reach for Nora’s offered hand, then broke eye contact, reconsidering, as though pausing to draw back. But Nora took her hand, stealing back her gaze.

“I know you’ll do the right thing, B-ko. I know you’re frightened. I’m a spirit – I can see through everything. I know who you are. It’s going to be alright… I’ll help you.”

The silence was heavy. There was a ringing tension to it; the battle grew distant to the eardrums as the moment honed in on itself. Stiffly, B-ko nodded her head. A subtle gesture. An enormous one, too.

Yato watched with growing horror as the two of them worked together to lift Hiyori’s physical body, pulling her over to the bathroom unit just ahead. Turning on the water for the bath, filling it. The harsh waterfall sound roared with the mighty cry of the goddess of war, somewhere behind them. Yato couldn’t make out anything B-ko or Nora were saying anymore. It rang hollow through him.

He knew better than any mortal that he could not change this scene. He could not interfere with it. It was not his place. He hadn’t been here. And yet, as they lifted Hiyori to place her in the bathtub to drown her (“This is easy, isn’t it?” said Nora), Yato jumped for them, at their backs in a flash of godly speed. They dropped her in, and he reached desperately into the warm water to pull her out again, her life escaping from her parted mouth as bubbles, seamlessly reaching the surface and disappearing into nothing. Yato’s hands grasped though her, touching nothing. Gritting his teeth, he scrambled to get ahold of her, but he was simply not tangible. He could do nothing. Instead, Nora reached through him and held her down underwater, pressing the life from her. Ending her.

He tried to bat her away, but merely swung through her. “WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!” he screamed, but she could not hear him cry to her. She could not hear his pleas, nor wishes. She was deaf to him. Blind. “STOP IT—STOP IT!”

He stood up and staggered backwards, hands to his mouth and nose to stifle his horror. He didn’t want to see this anymore. He didn’t want to. He already knew she was gone, so why did he have to watch it? He didn’t want—

“It’s like playing tag, isn’t it?” B-ko mumbled. She was curled forward, her hands over her mouth. “We’re playing tag with a Shinigami, and—and the reaper’s gotta win eventually. This—this isn’t right. It’s not—I… please, this—I don’t feel good… N…Nora, please, tell me, I don’t—I don’t want to—I don’t wanna—”

“—Die?” Nora smiled. “Ah…” She reached over to B-ko with her dripping hands. The water was still, now. She touched B-ko’s cheek, a soft gesture. “Poor little girl… Foolish, too.”

B-ko opened her mouth, and closed it again. An agonized shriek tore through the building to them; the sound of Bishamon failing to protect yet another soul.

What…” B-ko murmured, “…did I just do?

Yato turned away.

“Are you surprised?” It was Ayano’s voice that spoke.

The god brought his hands to his face. “Shut up…”

He felt a small hand at his back. “You can open your eyes, now.”

He didn’t. What was he supposed to do with this sinking despair, or this dark rage that gripped him? This feeling of deep-seated betrayal? Who was Nora to toy with him in this way? Why should he even be surprised? Did it matter anymore, now that Hiyori was dead? He wished it didn’t. He wished he couldn’t feel anything at all.

“I’ll have to leave you now,” said Ayano’s soft voice. “The rest is your choice to make. I’ve given you the truth of the past, so it’s up to you to make your future. You actually remind me of someone I know, too, Yato. And I left him behind… Hiyori can’t come back, and neither can I. We didn’t mean to die… But I suggest that you hold onto this memory, as much as it hurts. Because… sad or not, it’s best to remember what’s important. Just like Hiyori always remembered you, Yato.”

Yato felt his chest split again. And what had Nora done for him? He couldn’t tell anymore. He felt bitter and ashamed. He said nothing.

“Guess it’s time.” The hand left his back. He felt heavy. Lowering his hands, he opened his lids.

His eyes snapped back to the reality of the caved-in hospital morgue. He sat up abruptly, staring into the cold and fiery visage of Izaya Orihara, the flash of his crimson blade as he raised it, the figure of Nora jumping between them with her arms outstretched, the sound of the blade cutting downwards, the spray of blood—

…Nora’s body fell slowly before collapsing.

Please,” she whispered, reaching weakly to Izaya, “just, don’t… kill… him.” Her hand lowered to the ground. Izaya lowered his blade, looking like a ghost himself. Yato lowered his gaze, clutching at his chest. He felt her soul leave him. How should it feel?

I can’t tell what to think, but it…

…It still hurts so much.

He looked at Izaya, and Izaya looked back with what could have easily been the same expression. The informant dropped his sword to the ground. Yato’s vision blurred. There were no words. There was nothing, nothing at all. Nothing but their agonizing silence. Their shared distance. The blood that stained them both.

Yato’s tears spilled as he shriveled into himself. His choking sobs filled the void.

 

Chapter 102: Tragic

Chapter Text

 

Move…

Yukiteru released A-ya as quickly as he’d grabbed him. A-ya was stunned into silence, filled with stupefied awe. Did that really just happen? Was this real? Strange, he heard Yukiteru’s child-like laughter ringing again. Looking down, he dimly noticed that his tie had blossomed red. Like his ebony cape, turned crimson? Ah, what happened to Twelve? Where was Suzuya?

Move.

Yukiteru watched as A-ya’s eyes had softened into blank surprise. His pupils, even, had rounded out into a human look of astonishment. Yukki couldn’t help laughing. “Izaya wasn’t joking!” he cried. “That’s A-ya! There you are! There you are!”

A-ya could barely hear him, intoxicated only with the vivid longing to be at his side. Such close proximity. Such intimate pain. For what reason had C-ta tried to kill him, if not out of a desire to protect him? For what reason might Yukiteru dig a knife into his back?

Oh… A-ya missed C-ta. He missed Yukiteru.

That’s right. I…?

MOVE!

He snapped back into his previous state, his thoughts coiling, insides cooling, mouth curling. “Oh, so… we really can be together?”

The serpent was skimming through his possible plans of action, building and scrapping rapid fire. Something was wrong here, but what? It wasn’t the wish A-ya had – to be at the Observer’s side, hah! A resolved wish was something Saeru just couldn’t allow. No… what his little master couldn’t remember was that the first wish he’d made was “not to be helpless,” not “to be at Yukiteru’s side.” A-ya would always, always be helpless, so there were no worries there.

So why had he almost lost his grip? The Observer must have thrown him off just well enough to sever his control temporarily. Had that been his true intent? He couldn’t rule that out just yet. And if he did that intentionally, then they were walking dangerous ground after all. But then, what was Observer’s end goal? To be with Loner, too? The way humans were, the serpent couldn’t be altogether surprised… For that disgusting ‘love’ to come back into play… Though, he felt almost—offended? For him to lose control so easily with Observer around—that meant…

Well. There was every possibility that Observer didn’t have the same ‘reset’ goal as them, right? Observer was a potential threat now. Reset… They couldn’t treat this as fun and savor the moment anymore – the demon had already died once, and did not appreciate the experience. He knew A-ya didn’t either, having died himself… The alarm bells were sounding; it was time to get competitive. What was the best way to cover their tracks and ensure a restart? The point of ending the game is cooperation; the seeds of discord were already planted. But the game hadn’t started over yet, even though so many ‘important players’ had died. According to Loner’s thoughts, the Dullahan had met with a game master – did that not mean she should arrive at the endgame? If not, then figure it out. As a game master, who should make it to the end? In other words, who did they need to kill, as soon as possible?

The peacemakers, certainly… The ones who know how to play the game, no question. Who would have more information than those who had met a game master? Who would, by a logical standpoint, be essential to an actual ending?

It struck him fully, accompanied by a stinging annoyance. The previous games that he was supposed to remember, why didn’t he? Why couldn’t he, the Clearing Eyes Snake, remember the previous games, if they had existed? But alas, more important was this: who could recall such a time? There were two they knew about… How were two such vulnerable beings still around? And now, who was it that was easiest to get rid of? Who could they off as quickly as possible?

End the princess. Get rid of her NOW.

A-ya faltered. This decision had been come to within a matter of moments, and he stumbled over the sudden thought. “Ah… Rika?”

Hide’s eyes flashed. Konoha’s brow furrowed, and he lowered his head a bit as if preparing to charge.

“Hey… I have—an idea, Yukiteru.” A-ya smiled at Yukiteru, who cocked an eyebrow at him, wearing a smirk himself. “You want to do… what we want, too, right? Reset? Rika… was the only one you hadn’t lost. So if you and I are really in this together, we can kill her too, right?

Yukiteru’s eyes flickered, and he brought a hand to his chin as if to think it over. “Rika-chan, huh? I guess that would make sense, wouldn’t it?”

Don’t tell me you’re unwilling to allow that much,” he sneered in the voice of the demon.

“Well…” Yukiteru looked over at Rika. Her face was of stone. He raised his eyes to the one behind her, and met Hide’s gaze. Subtly, the blond gave a nod of his head. Yukki smiled. “A-ya… this game is fake.” And without warning, he turned on his bare heel and kicked off towards her, propelled by his gravitation. Konoha tried to get in the way, and wasn’t quite fast enough.

But Hide, anticipating this, grabbed Rika’s wrist and yanked her towards him just before the cloaked one moved, throwing himself forward while casting her backwards, brandishing his stone knife and gritting his teeth as he met the blade of Yukki…


“I need to talk to you guys too.”

Rika and Shintaro looked at one another, then back to Hide, who continued to scratch at his cheek, gaze averted.

“Alright,” said Rika. “Close the door, then, if you like.”

He flashed a sheepish grin, and did so. “Well, is it that… both of you know about past routes?”

“Both of us remember,” Rika explained. “It is why he could recognize Izaya Orihara, apparently.”

Shintaro laughed weakly.

“Man, that’s nuts,” remarked Hide. “I knew you had a lot goin’ on in your head, but I never woulda imagined that you’d had memories of past lives, back and back and back…”

“There is a lot going on in your mind as well, Hide,” Rika frowned. Shintaro glanced over at the ten-year-old. She still sounded so serious… “I know not what you’re thinking of. Could you tell us?”

“Well, I mean…” The characteristic shine to his eyes was muted by his seriousness. Shintaro wouldn’t admit that he hadn’t expected this kind of intensity from Hide. That coupled with the solemnity of a ten-year-old was making him uncomfortable. “I’ve been thinking; if you remember what happened before, it’s gotta be for a reason. This game is like that. Don’t you think that maybe… you two are a requirement for reaching the ending? Or at least—the true end.” He lightened up into the persona they were used to. “Like in RPG’s, if you’re missing something important, you don’t get the true ending… ya might even reach a bad end, or a dead end, ya know?”

Rika looked at Shintaro, lost. The hikkiNEET was nodding thoughtfully. “I get what you’re saying,” he said. “B-but do you really think we’re so important? I’m not all that special…”

“Well, hey,” Hide shrugged. “Neither of you seem like the type to make it this far, don’t you think? Rika-chan’s just a kid, and you just… don’t seem to fit the bill for someone who’d survive a death game, ya know?”

“I-I know…” Shintaro bowed his head. “I’m a shut-in. I get it.”

“Yo, I didn’t even know that, first of all, and secondly, what I’m saying is that it’s amazing that you guys have made it here! That means there’s gotta be something special about both of you.”

“Uh… yeah, maybe…”

“You were rather confident just a moment ago,” Rika pointed out.

“Yeah, that never lasts long.”

Hide laughed. “You know, I’ve got something to tell ya, Shintaro.” The raven-haired one looked at him, brow furrowed. “My buddy Kaneki, he was kinda scrawny once upon a time. He hated sports and he was kind of a loner… I mean, I’d drag him around to have fun with me, but I was all he really had. He’s come a long way, now.” His expression softened. Perhaps nostalgia? “I’m really glad… But he still doesn’t understand his own potential. What I’m saying, really, is that the only thing that’s holding you back is yourself. If you can believe you’ll end this thing, you will.”

Shintaro drew his lips into a thin line, trying not show too much emotion. “U-um… Thanks…” Rika smiled up at the NEET, who looked away from both of them.

“But yeah,” Hide grinned, “I think that both of you will make it outta here. That is, you have to. On the other hand…” His smile faded, and he looked at Rika. “You told us that the uncertain players had never made it, right? The ones where it’s hit-or-miss whether they show up in these games?”

Rika blinked. “Yes… But I thought, perhaps if I had warned all of you, then you could break that pattern.”

“No, please listen. I’ve been thinking really hard about this. What is this game? Is it really happening? Think about it. Does it even make sense? Apparently, Takizawa started out in this game from the same point as me and Kaneki, and then what? He got ‘fast forwarded’ or something? There’s no way that the GM’s would send him back home like that – he’d remember these games. He’d change things. But did they change? No. What’s more, there was Akira, who was from the future. How could any of that be a thing unless the future already exists? That is—somewhere, there’s some kind of parallel us that will still go on as if the games were never a thing, right?”

“I see…” Rika nodded. “I suppose I hadn’t thought too much on it because for my world, I’ve yet to find a future. Mine and Shintaro’s worlds are in the same loop of continual reset, it seems.”

“Yeesh, that sucks,” remarked the bleached-blond boy. “But, ah… That is to say, what happens to the people that die in this game? Are they really dead, when they’ve got the ‘real them,’ I guess, living as normal back home? Are we all illusions until we reach the end? Maybe illusions even then?”

“But we’re still here,” Shintaro said nervously. “And still, um, struggling a lot. I’m gonna have PTSD or something.”

“It is true,” said Rika, “that we are sentient. Perhaps our other selves are still in our own realms, and we are all just copies. But…”

“But what I’m really trying to ask,” Hide said soberly, “is, well… What would happen, if I were to die?”

 

Yukiteru swiped upwards with his knife, knocking Hide’s stone blade in the same direction as the cloaked one grabbed at the other’s wrist with his free hand.

 

“If all of that’s true,” he’d said to them, “then I’d still exist elsewhere, wouldn’t I?”

 

In the same motion, he drew back his hand gripping the weapon, then jabbing forward and embedding the metal in Hide’s gut. Rika screamed.

 

“That is to say, I’d still be waiting for someone at home… right?”

 

Yukiteru twisted, pulled, and stabbed him again. And again. And again. Blood spattered Yukki and further mottled his face. Rika stared, motionless – the poor armadillo had since jumped from her arms and fled somewhere floors beneath them.

At the fifth stab, Hide grabbed Yukki’s wrist before he could yank the knife back out again, holding him there. He moved to slash at Yukki’s throat, but was caught again at the wrist. The cloaked one held that stone blade centimeters from the flesh of his neck.

 

Back then, Shintaro had looked at Rika with concern. He hadn’t felt good at all about such a conclusion, positive or not. But Rika only stared into Hide, whose gaze was unwavering. “I need to know,” he said.

“Worry not,” said Rika. She closed her eyes, and Shintaro swallowed. “I believe that all that you’ve said is true… That is so.”

 

Yukiteru’s blue eyes met the brown of Hide’s, and the cloaked one smiled before jerking Hide towards him, tilting his head so the stone merely skimmed his neck while he embedded his own blade deeper into the other’s abdomen. Twisting Hide’s arm with the knife, the blond dropped the weapon unwillingly as the bones of his forearm strained at the pressure. The moment his opponent was unarmed Yukki released that wrist and grabbed for his throat, shoving him to the ground of the rooftop with gravity on his side.

Hide choked in pain at the impact, but did not cry out. Shintaro and Konoha both were still with terror. Rika brought her hands to her mouth, stifling her own horror while Yukki smiled a blank smile at his victim.

A-ya, his cruel expression unfit for his face, merely walked up and stepped hard on the arm that was still gripping Yukki’s wrist, breaking it. Hide gave a gurgling sort of wheeze as he released his hand. The knife was removed, and the blond barely had a chance to slow him down when Yukki sliced at his throat like he had done to Rin.

“Ah, not deep enough,” said Yukki mildly. “Oh well. You’ll die soon anyway, Hide-kun.” He looked at A-ya meaningfully, who seemed about to end him by simply crushing his esophagus under his shoe. “Really, it’s enough.”

A-ya hesitated, then looked to Rika again. Something felt very wrong again. Was it because Yukiteru had done the killing? He needed to kill Rika.

Before A-ya could make the decision to move, he felt a hand at his ankle and felt a jolt through his system. He thought his throat said, “You filthy brat,” as he pulled his leg away from Hide. Looking down he saw his face, his chin running red, a smile on his lips. This scared him, he thought, but it was swallowed by bloodlust.

Snap out of it.

He turned sharply, blocking a kick from Seidou Takizawa just in time. Konoha lunged forward in the corner of his vision, but Yukiteru swiped at him with his knife and began a scuffle between them alone, leaving A-ya to Seidou.

Behind Seidou, Kaneki had gone to his knees at Hide’s side, rushing to rip the strap of the medical bag, pulling it from his childhood friend, hastily rummaging to find something, anything to help him. He stopped only when he felt Hide’s hand to his cheek. Looking at him, he was still smiling, his eyes glazed. He tried to speak, but choked instead on his own fluid, thick and obstructive. All he could manage was an assuring look, willing Kaneki to understand his apology, and his will for him to continue.

Kaneki didn’t notice his own eyes spilling, but he knew what came next. He didn’t want it to. He lowered the gauze, dropping it and raising a hand to Hide’s.

He hated the sunset. It was always stained red, and oh, how dark the world became come nightfall. If Hide was the sun, and he the moon, he didn’t wish for the sun to set only for him to shine. It was, in fact, the last thing he’d ever want.

But the sun always sets at the end of the day. Even as Kaneki held onto Hide, bowing his head with tears dripping onto Hide’s marred chest… Even as he held him, begging with mind and soul not to let him leave… No matter how desperately he held onto him, he’d always slip away.

And he did.

Kaneki felt Hide’s life slip through his fingers like grains of sand – (can I not save one from the pitiless wave?) – and his body grew heavy without the lightness of his bright soul.

“Please…”

He was deaf to the conflict around him. The one he wished to protect most he had failed to. What was left? Had Hide really thought that Kaneki would find purpose after this? There was nothing, nothing at all. The night had come without him, and the clouds were thick. Where were the stars? They were millions and millions of miles away anyway, no matter how close they look. The man on the moon is lonely after all, and he will always, always be alone…

The sun may give him warmth – the moon cannot shine at night without the sun, but he’s always so far away.

“Please no… No…”

This was it. It was all there was. It truly was…

No…”

…a tragedy, huh?


Surely that’s how it’s always made to be.

No…”

Yato was bent over Nora’s body, denying the loss over and over again. He had remained like this for some time, all else silent. Izaya stared down at him. He showed nothing but the void he was.

“You—you…” He couldn’t finish.

Izaya didn’t answer at first. “My apologies. I can’t seem to bring myself to feel sorry.”

Yato’s eyes flashed as he glared up at the impassive informant.

“Do you know what she did? Have you pieced it together yet, or are you still too stubborn to see it? Hah?”

“Sh…shut up…”

“Then you do know? That Nora here was the one who killed your precious Hiyori?”

“I—I know, I know it already. Stop…”

“If you know it, then you should understand that killing Nora was ultimately the ‘revenge’ you were seeking, right?” His eyes narrowed to slits. “You understand that, right?”

But she didn’t deserve to die!” he snapped.

Izaya remained impassive. “Neither did Hiyori, did she?”

“Of course not—it was bad, it was wrong, but she didn’t think so… She thought she was helping, so she didn’t sin, or else I—I’d have felt it sting; she would have stung me if—if she had done something wrong, so—but does that make it okay? Is it ‘right’? Not okay, it isn’t… I… I do want Hiyori back… But Hiiro, also… is like a sister to me, I… And—” He choked on a sob, clutching tightly at his chest. “Nobody deserves—to die.”

“Tell that to Twelve,” Izaya answered coolly. “I’m sure he’d appreciate it. Celty-san too. And, oh, Minene? How many people have you killed in this game, exactly? How many have you killed in the long span of your cruel life—?”

I don’t want to hear it from YOU.” Yato righted himself, sitting up and properly glowering at his rival. “I don’t want to hear you preaching to me about morals – you, who cares the least for anyone else’s well-being besides your own.”

Izaya looked at him coldly, a slight frown curving his mouth. Yato knelt there, his breath unsteady, his cerulean eyes gleaming heatedly in the dim violet lighting. “Am I a villain to you, Yato?” Izaya said eventually. When he didn’t answer, he only continued, “I think the villain must surely hold more compassion than anyone else. I love intrinsically, and therefore don’t want, don’t need love from anyone else! Right?” Yato didn’t answer, still, and Izaya’s expression darkened. “But I’m not a villain, Yato. Maybe I’m your villain, but I’m not pure evil. Selfish, maybe. Surely a coward and a fool. That was why you didn’t kill me, right? Because you knew that I did need love, I did need the connections I refused to acknowledge. You knew that leaving me alone and forgotten would make me suffer. A real villain wouldn’t have fallen apart so… pathetically… so… humanly—as I did. And if you know all that, you know that monster though I am, I’m still a human, too.

“Why was it you despised me, Yato? I just killed Nora, who had killed Hiyori. You wanted to avenge her death, didn’t you? Though, I’ll be honest… This wasn’t a part of the plan. I tried to kill you, Yato. Who would guess?” He laughed weakly, a sort of bitter chuckle. “I don’t do the dirty work, do I, Yato? And even I, admittedly, am a bit disgusted with myself. Of course, I kept being accused as a ‘killer,’ but I don’t kill people on my own. I watch from the sidelines. You know that well enough, don’t you? I can tell by the look on your face. It all goes back to the fourth day here, doesn’t it? Isn’t all of this because you blamed me for Yukine’s death?”

“You let him die,” Yato growled, “and you know it.”

“I do,” Izaya said soberly. “And I don’t know why. I think that’s what bothers me most. But if you’re god, and that’s my greatest sin, how about I atone for my worst atrocity?” Izaya smiled a bit too eerily for Yato’s comfort. “You cannot sin, as a god… at least, that’s what you said. But how do you think Yukine would feel about seeing you now?”

He froze, then shriveled. “It wouldn’t matter anyway.”

“Is that really so? Here is what I really intended. I won’t get into my disappointment with myself over what just transpired, but Nora was no great loss. She needed to go anyway. And seeing as she was the one who ended Hiyori… I find this to be incredibly fitting… Don’t you think, Yato?”

Yato peered warily at the informant. “What, exactly, are you planning to do?”

“Exactly what I’m supposed to.” He bent down, lifting the Prophet from the rubble at his feet. “When people make a mess, they’re supposed to clean it up themselves.” He stuck the blade in the ground, using it as a crutch for his crushed leg. Yato watched him turn around and begin hobbling away from him, towards the items pillar. “For a long time, I didn’t do much cleanup. I like to watch things play out as they will; that’s true. But being as involved as I am, I guess I’m the one who’s acting on stage this time. This’ll be my exception. You were right, Yato. I did hypothetically end a lot of lives… but it was indirect enough that I can’t bring myself to feel guilty. Is that wrong of me, to be so desensitized to mortal lives? Probably.

“But you did show me what guilt felt like. New experiences; can I really complain? Like I said, you were right – it was what I deserved. And there were a lot of things I’d lost without realizing it… and coming to feel that loss… only to find it was me who brought it upon myself… It was admittedly jarring.”

He stopped in front of the items pillar and looked back at Yato, who stared hopelessly back. “What’s the point in telling me all this?” Yato asked him, his voice low and broken. “Did you really learn your lesson? Somehow I don’t think so.”

Izaya laughed, just a bit. “Did you learn yours, Yato? Somehow I don’t think so either. You still fell victim to your own past, and you still followed your repeating cycle of violence and remorse. Yes, Nora may have wanted to help you in her own way, but is it really worth it when so many other people get hurt in the process? Unless that doesn’t matter to you anymore. Maybe you’re desensitized too… Do you really think that everything you’ve done is just?”

“I—do,” he said lowly.

“Would you tell Hiyori that?”

“She…” He lowered his head. “She never saw the real me. She was just… It was a temporary connection between her and someone she thought I was. I was allowed to pretend for a little bit, but…”

“You’re saying that you deceived her?”

“I…”

“Because then, doesn’t that make you the asshole here? You’d been so desperate to return to her from day one, Yato. And why, because she was the sole human that could remember you? Doesn’t that mean something? I know what it feels like to be forgotten now – thanks for that, by the way.” Yato frowned at the sarcasm. “But even more than being able to remember you, she also believed in you, didn’t she? She had faith in you as a person. And don’t tell me that that meant nothing because of your apparent deceit. From what I gather, you had been trying to leave your bloody past behind for a while even then, hadn’t you? And she and Yukine gave you hope for the future.”

“S…stop talking, would you?”

“No, I think I’ll keep going. There’s something to be said about ‘people,’ Yato, whether they’re humans or gods or spirits or ghouls… whatever. They’re ever-changing. Always evolving. To not evolve would be truly abnormal. That’s what makes everyone so interesting, right? That’s what I believed, you know. History also repeats itself all the time; patterns are made. Maybe it’s a contradiction, but to me, when people fall into patterns, it’s less interesting. I like surprises, whether they’re good or bad. You fell into a pattern, Yato. I didn’t see the starting point, but the end is the same as the beginning, so I can get a pretty good idea. You’re thinking something like ‘This is just in my nature,’ or ‘This was inevitable anyway,’ right? ‘I live only to take from others.’ ‘I’m only acting out who I was born to be.’”

Yato’s jaw was set. “I said—stop it.”

“Am I right, then?”

“Shut up, Izaya.” Slowly, he got to his feet. “It doesn’t matter whether you’re right or not, alright? So be quiet.

“Am I hitting a nerve? That means I’m close to the jackpot.” Thinly, Izaya smiled. “Yato, you really are painfully human, for being a god. You’re just as foolish as anyone else. Do you really believe all that?”

Yato’s eyes narrowed. “What’s it to you?”

“What is it to me? Well, I guess I find it kind of ridiculous! Not that I’m any different. ‘That’s just who you are. You’re that kind of cruel person, Izaya. You just can’t resist watching things fall apart, no matter how hard you’ve worked to put it all together. Do you really think that that changed?’ Cruel, really, for him to say that to me. Hah… But nature can be bested, sometimes. That is… only if you want to change. Don’t go on and tell me otherwise, because who was it that convinced you that you, the God of Calamity, could become a god of fortune if you tried hard enough? Who were you the positive father figure to, even if your own father was one who only hurt you? Who was the one who tried to become your guidepost, your touchstone?” Yato opened his mouth to interject, but Izaya pressed on: “And who was the one you abandoned as soon as he was gone?”

Stop it.

“I let him die,” Izaya said coldly. “So I’ll be the one to bring him back.”

Wait. What? “You can’t be serious…” He took a step back.

“He’s been waiting all this time. All you needed was to slow down and take a look around you. But you couldn’t manage that, could you? Too swept up in despair, hatred, and regret.”

The items pillar. Was it the items pillar? Yato couldn’t handle this. “Please don’t.

“This is what I need to do…” – Izaya smiled again – “…and exactly what you deserve, too.” He looked to the flickering selection screen of the items module. There was no silhouette – maybe that function had broken in the explosion. Yato’s item was still blinking bright blue, throbbing with urgency: Blessed Vessel. “Ah… I’m sorry,” he said softly, and selected it.

The bright light swathed the entirety of their small space – he thought he heard Yato protest as he moved to select it, but it had been too late by then. After the flash was another explosion of bright blue that seemed to originate from Yato, combining with the bright white. Izaya tried to shield his eyes and peer through the light at the same time to no avail. He settled with closing his eyes and waiting.

Yato felt gusts of wind circling him, the ceiling crumbling again directly above him but disintegrating with the energy expelled. In either hand was a shining bandaged sword, and his consciousness felt as though it would burst with a sudden presence; he was overwhelmed by the resounding given name Yuki; and most of all with a sudden sense of fear.

“R-release! Release!” The swords flashed and left him, shaping into the form of the spirit Yukine. Yato staggered backwards. Yukine stood between his two teammates, flummoxed. Amber eyes wide, he took a moment to regain his bearings while his spiritual glow faded and blended into the purple-tinted shadows of this underground space. His solidity seemed so out of place. He wasn’t meant to be here.

“W… whoa, did you see that? Yato! I became two swords!” He turned excitedly to his master, eyes shining. Yato nodded stiffly, hands over his mouth. He couldn’t look back at him. Yukine lowered his hands, bunched into energetic fists. “Wait…” He was beginning to realize something was very wrong. “What…” – he looked around at Yato, then at Izaya standing at the pillar, expression sober – “…what happened? What’s going on?” He looked back at Yato. “That Yoh guy—are you alright? I remember jumping in front of you, but… Why aren’t you looking at me? Yato? Wh… where are we? Why’s it so dark?” He looked at Izaya. “What’s going on?”

Izaya’s solemn expression yielded nothing. He looked away from the spirit, who turned back to Yato. Yato still refused to make eye contact. Looking down, Yukine yelped and backed up into something, turning around only to see the heads of Hiyori and Ayano. “A—aa… Y-Yato, what is…? Is that who I…?” He couldn’t finish his question. “What happened?” he said again, his voice cracking. “Nora—? What is she doing here? Is she…?” He couldn’t finish this question either. “Guys…?”

The divide between them was one that could not be bridged. No one spoke. They didn’t look at him.

“How long was I gone?”

Nothing. His voice was growing steadily weaker. It was dark down here, and he was so confused. He hated the dark.

“Where was I? What did I miss?”

He was scared.

“How come… nobody’s answering me?”

 

Chapter 103: The (Un)Veil

Chapter Text

 

Kaneki remained hunched forward, numb to everyone and everything surrounding him. In the dark we make mistakes, and the night had come, though really it was just the clouds overhead obscuring the sun. He didn’t feel the rain fall. He didn’t hear the crackling of the still-burning building across the street, either.

All he felt was thick dread; despair running black through his bloodstream—and all he heard, all he heard was voices calling to him:

You failed at the mission,” said the cool female voice of Akira Mado. “The death toll is already at three out here, and what’s more – Nagachika…

He’s gone too, huh?” chirped Psyche. “Just like Deli.

And didn’t you think of him then?” added Delic. “Didn’t you think of how bad it would be if he died, while I was the one dying?

You couldn’t protect him,” said Shinichi, voice hollow. “Just let go. You know he’s dead. You know he’s dead, just like everyone else.

Just like everyone else,” repeated Shirazu. “Kane-kun, why’d ya have to leave us behind? You came back, too late…

You’re late again,” murmured Roppi, his voice bitter and cruel. “Not that I can really be mad; we both know I’ve had my share of being late to the party… Right, Kaneki?

W-why is it that you let Roppi die?” asked Tsuki.

It wasn’t enough,” said Shinichi. “It’s never enough.

That’s why you lost us,” came the voice of Touka, and Kaneki just about split in half from the pain of her memory. “It’s why you lost me… idiot.

Maybe if you’d stopped me from running away, Touka would be alive right now,” said Roppi’s smiling voice. “I never would have found the blade. Seidou would never have become a ghoul. But all you ever do is run away too, don’t you? Don’t you?

 “You’re nothing but selfish,” said Touka. “You’re not protecting others – you just don’t want to be alone. Well look at you now! You can’t protect anyone, Kaneki.

“Can’t… protect…” Kaneki spoke brokenly; his throat felt constricted; his vision blurred into hazy shapes and figures: the single image of Hide, still smiling but not breathing, so pale and yet so red.

Their voices solidified; they were not ghosts whispering, disembodied, to his own fractured spirit—now they were solid bodies closing in on him, all too real and all too asphyxiating.

“That’s right,” said Akira firmly. “You’re not fit to be a leader.”

“Why didn’t you save me?” Touka.

“I finally wanted to live.” Roppi. “So why’d you have to let me die?”

“You’re not strong enough.” Shinichi. “We’re just so weak.”

“Not strong enough,” Kaneki uttered. “Hide…” It was so dark. Where’d the light go? He stared blankly into vivid crimson, blooming spider lilies over the flower bed he knelt in.

“Better if people like us are alone,” said Shinichi. “Monsters like us.”

“I mean, when all you do is leave others behind…,” said Roppi.

“Kaneki… Where’d you go?” Kaneki felt Shirazu’s hands tugging at his shirt, pulling at him in desperation. “Why can’t I see you? Where’d you go?”

Frigid fingers at his throat, he could make out deep carmine, a red-trimmed black jacket—it was Roppi, clinging to his neck, red dripping from his fringes. Shirazu was digging into his eyes; Akira’s hands were boring into his torso, into his gut; Shinichi was the one with a grip on his heart—and all of them were speaking, calling him and crying out and accusing him or begging him or—

His vision melted; looking into the sky he saw it blotted out, black-and-white, what ugly clouds… He became distinctly aware of the dome over them, and perceived thick black lines reaching for the sky – they were all caged here. What was this, their Hobby Room?

He tried to look around him and saw only obscure images – the young Reaper was cackling, child-like. He danced with the devil; lightning flashed red, yellow. The cogs of fate kept turning; a machine was crying out. A crimson figure sheltered a shining child. God laughed at them. The heavens wept.

He glanced about, panicked – the cacophony of voices from beyond the veil pierced through him, deafened him—the roar rose like a wave and crashed – they were a hellish symphony and a bittersweet siren’s song all at once. Everything was clouded, where was he?

Let go, let me go! half of him screamed.

My fault, it’s my fault, the other half wailed.

He fought to escape the clawed hands of the fallen; he was being strangled and torn apart, he needed to get out; nothing left to do but fight, keeping fighting—who was the one who killed Hide?

The voices screamed for him, he thought maybe he screamed with them. He was drowning in something thick and cold, fighting his way to the surface, reclaiming his body before it was torn to shreds, writhing in protest to the souls holding him down. So loud—so loud, shut up; shut up!

I can’t do this! I can’t anymore! I can’t! I—!

“Hey.”

He felt a gentle hand at his shoulder. It was warm. He tried to clear his vision, and the visage of Hide came slowly into focus. He was smiling, still smiling, but he looked rather sad. Why was he sad? What was he doing here? Kaneki’s thoughts were disjointed and confused.

Hide?

“Calm down, bud. It’s gonna be okay. It’s not like I didn’t want to keep going with ya… but when this game ends, you can go back. I’ll meet you there. You’ve just gotta go all out for a little bit longer, okay?”

B…but I…

“Really…” Hide sighed, lowering his hand from Kaneki’s shoulder, bringing it into a fist and pulling it back.

“H-Hide?”

He punched Kaneki square in the face, and his head whipped to the side, his vision spinning. He looked back again to see not Hide there, but Seidou Takizawa, glaring pointedly at him.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” snapped the other half-ghoul, and Kaneki stared at him blankly. He vaguely felt the sensations of clawed hands digging into him dissipating. “Snap out of it!

“I…?” His ears tuned back into the sound around him. He looked behind Seidou to see Konoha facing A-ya and Yukiteru at once. Shintaro was trying to keep Rika behind him, looking paler than usual. Glancing down, he saw Hide lying still; he was still kneeling in a pool of his friend’s lifeblood. “I-I…” He still could not maintain focus. He felt himself slipping again.

Jeez, almost goin’ kakuja all of a sudden… Gimme some literature, asshole,” snipped Seidou. “And calm the fuck down already. You know what to do.”

“I… I…” Stumbling over his words, he still obeyed. “D… ‘Do not ask… Reader… how my blood ran cold And my voice choked up with fear. I cannot write it: This is a terror that cannot be told. I did not die, and yet I lost life’s breath: Imagine for yourself what I became, Deprived at once of both my life and death’…”

“What’s that?”

“Dante’s Inferno… when the Poets reach the Center.”

“Oh.” Seidou rolled his eyes. “Well, glad to have you back. Told ya a nice punch to the face would straighten you out.” He looked to Kaneki, who was staring emptily downwards. “Oi. Look here.” When Kaneki did not respond, he knelt down in front of him, cupping the younger’s cheeks and forcing him to look back. Kaneki’s eyes had begun spilling over with helpless tears. Seidou clucked his tongue, eye narrowing. “Crying won’t solve shit.”

“I… I’m so…”

“Apologies don’t do shit either,” Seidou frowned. “Nagachika’s dead.” Kaneki tried to look away, but with an oi, Seidou earned eye contact back. “I’m not tryna be a cynic this time. Life just tends to be stupidly sardonic. Okay? Roppi’s dead, too, y’know. And that’s actually my fault. Don’t you remember? There’s a difference between guilt and responsibility. There’s no use just feeling hopelessly guilty. Instead, take responsibility and respect your friend by doing what you know he’d want you to. End this fucking game. You can work it out when you make it back. The only way to help him now is to make it outta here. And even if he won’t be waiting after all’s said and done, you’ve still got people around here – Shintaro? Konoha? Or did ya forget about ‘em already?”

“I—no… I…”

Then get up.” Kaneki averted his eyes, and Seidou lowered his hands from his face, his own expression softening. “Only so many people can make it to the end. Hide wants you to be one of them. He’s trying to pass on that will. For your own sake—for Hide’s, and everyone else’s, keep going. The ones that are still breathing need you.”

Kaneki closed his eyes.

“C’mon. It’s not gonna change either way—and for fuck’s sake, don’t go nuts on me, here. That’s only gonna make things worse. Asshole.”

Kaneki got to his feet, and Seidou followed after him. “I…I know. Thank you.”

“I just didn’t wanna deal with you fuckin’ up your own team,” he mumbled.

Back in the midst of action, A-ya’s head was swimming. Seidou had left him for Kaneki, but not until after he’d managed to tear off his arm. The possessed clutched at his bloody shoulder socket, staring at the surreal image of his own appendage lying in front of him. He wasn’t feeling very well, but with a, That doesn’t matter; keep going, his body seemed to move of its own accord to kelp Yukiteru in fighting Konoha. He didn’t feel as if he were fighting; rather, he felt as though he were observing someone else’s experiences from a first-person perspective. His thoughts ran and tumbled around the one that had just died. Who was he? The way he smiled was too familiar.

“I’m so… sorry, A-ya.”

Please, no.

“You win.”

Please… C-ta…

That warm smile, and glassy eyes… Twelve gave him that look too, though his brown eyes were clear and he felt deeply of summertime. “I do like you, A-ya,” he said. He’d had that warmth. Hadn’t he? “I can promise you, at least, that you are not helpless.”

He felt a tremor through him. He didn’t want to think. He didn’t want to feel.

He recalled the way Yukiteru’s expression melted into relief after A-ya had been revived from his suicide. The feeling of Yukiteru’s embrace as he clung tight to his raven-haired friend. “I… I’m so glad you’re okay…”

Recalling how it felt to be embraced, as if it were a foreign gesture. Why was it foreign? And what had Yukiteru been trying to do, holding him, stabbing him, but not quite killing him? A-ya was able to form questions, just barely, but no answers.

Come now, Vessel, why are you fighting so hard?” A-ya was mildly aware of his larynx voicing these words. The android that Saeru used to possess, breathing hard, looked wearily but determinedly through orbs shining just as red. “Don’t you want your precious friends back? You can’t have that unless we reset, right?” A-ya began to catch up with himself, speaking again in sync with his possessor.

Konoha shook his head. “You… cannot be right.”

And why not?

Konoha went to lunge for him, but Yukiteru cut him off, his aura one of placid certainty.

“Your goals are misplaced!” said Rika, her tiny voice projecting well in her own jaded resoluteness.

“Rika!” cried Shintaro, grabbing worriedly onto her shoulders as she stepped forward. He released her with a yelp as the goddess Hanyuu revealed herself, arms parted in confident stature.

“Even you, Demon, have strayed from your intentions!” accused the deity.

Oh, have I? How’s that?

“Wasn’t it true that even you wanted my vessel alive?” Hanyuu’s resolve appeared to waver when A-ya’s possessor only began to laugh a low chuckle that rose into a full cackle.

My dear little Goddess, pathetic thing you are! I was wrong about you, ‘Princess.’ Can’t you tell? In this game, you are not royalty. Here, the royals are the ones who run the show!

He glanced over at Konoha and Yukiteru – Konoha’s eyes had flashed, he was looking over to where Seidou and Kaneki were. Yukiteru and him had palms pressed together, each straining against the other. Yukki noticed his distraction and glanced back at A-ya. He smiled. So did A-ya, albeit a smile of the demon more than himself. Yukiteru’s eyes flickered.

And in order to reset the game…” They made a move for Rika. Konoha realized it too late. Shintaro was faster, bringing Rika quickly behind himself – but he realized a little late that he was an equally desirable target. Hanyuu shielded her eyes; this wasn’t how it should go. Rika tried to protest in all of this split-second action time, but what could be done?

It was Yukiteru who jumped and kicked Konoha in his already injured stomach, freeing his hands and making the android stagger backwards. Gliding, he shot between Shintaro and A-ya, turning to his friend and spreading his arms.

Alarmed, A-ya skidded to a halt, bring his single arm back and staring with wide eyes and furrowed brow. What was Yukiteru doing?

“Stop,” he said. His voice was firm and flat.

“What…” said A-ya, “…did you call dibs on them too, or something?” He tittered weakly.

Konoha approached quickly but kept his distance, unsure whether he should step in again or not.

“Yukiteru?” asked Shintaro, standing nervously behind him. “Uh… who’s side are you on, exactly?”

“I’m on A-ya’s side,” said the cloaked one, and Shintaro tentatively took a step back, one hand to Rika’s chest, keeping her behind himself. Konoha’s eyes flicked from one person to the next.

Yukiteru was still facing A-ya. Why did he look as though he were facing an enemy? A-ya couldn’t conjecture it. When they were, just a few moments ago, fighting together again, so…? It was true that he’d stabbed him—but—

While A-ya had already been feeling discomfort, this feeling was far worse. He began to experience more certainty in his decisions. “You’re on our side, so why are you in our way?

“I can’t let you kill them.”

Why not? This isn’t part of the plan.

“Sure it is.” A-ya’s tired eyes narrowed a bit. A frown pulled at his mouth. Yukki smiled an almost apologetic smile. “Just because I’m on your side doesn’t mean that we have the same plan in mind. In fact, for me, everything’s going exactly as planned.” Yukiteru’s blue-eyed gaze travelled to the fallen Hide, and the medical bag with its items spilled out and strewn over the crumbling roof they stood on. His eyes came to rest on a makeshift walkie-talkie. He smiled. “You don’t understand…” He made eye contact with A-ya again. “This game is fake, A-ya. Don’t you remember?” Something stirred in A-ya’s eyes, but it was extinguished as soon as it sparked. “So, no matter what it takes… Even if I have to fight you again, A-ya. Even if I have to kill you. Even if I have to die, too…” Yukiteru smiled hollowly. “I’m going to end the dream.”


That’s why,” Yukki had said lowly, “you won’t say a thing. Right, Izaya?”

Yukiteru was smiling coolly down at the informant, eyes shining as ice. Amazingly, Izaya began to laugh.

“Who would have thought that such a vicious and cunning look would suit you? Yukki…” Izaya got to his feet, then, and Yukiteru’s eyes flickered. “You don’t have to play that game with me, don’t worry. Was it really necessary to be so cruel, though? Who was it that told you about Yukine—your texting pal? Really.” Izaya shifted his weight to a more casual position, wrapping one arm over his bruised gut. His red-brown eyes shimmered with humor. “Now, what’s your real plan, Yukki?”

“I’d think that you, of all people, would understand the concept of betrayal,” Yukiteru said, cocking an eyebrow. “Do you really have such faith in me?”

“I have faith in what I know is true.” Izaya smiled a slightly less dead smile. Yukki almost thought that it may have reached his eyes. Just a little bit. “You still want the game to end, don’t you? But only eight people can make it there.”

Yukiteru’s smile faltered. “That’s not—”

But Izaya waved him off. “It’s okay. That show you just put up is good enough of a red herring for the game masters to keep.”

The younger opened his mouth, closed it, and then shrunk under Izaya’s piercing gaze. “Do you really think so?” he asked tentatively.

“I do.” He flashed a short smile. “Now, Yukki, what is it you have up your sleeve? I imagine that if only eight can make it out, there’s no way that our entire group can make it – there’s ten of us, after all. Not to mention, you probably want to give a go at saving A-ya-kun.”

“Well…” Yukki’s eyes wandered away from Izaya’s, and the man snickered.

“So, what, are you going to kill the ones you think don’t need to make it?”

“It’s the only way, isn’t it?” he asked earnestly, leaning in suddenly. He still had that off glint in his eyes. “So, if it’s betrayal, I can kill anyone that’s in the way of ending the game. Then we can have a happy ending.”

“As cruel a plan as it is,” said Izaya (“Is it really?” asked Yukki.), “it’s definitely logical. A lot of the hero wannabes here would probably call it ‘evil.’ No matter what, you’re wasting innocent lives in their eyes, so it’s a rather antagonistic role you’re putting yourself in, here. But you’re not the only one that’s thought of it… Hide-kun talked about it to me just this morning. Asked me what I thought would happen if Shintaro-kun died.” Izaya laughed, and Yukiteru peered at him curiously. “If I’m right, anybody that knows about the previous routes of this game needs to make it to the end. That is to say… if Shintaro-kun or Rika-chan were to die, there would be a reset, one way or another.”

“Then… Rika and Shintaro are important,” Yukiteru said thoughtfully.

“Kuroha, too, counts as a player,” he added, and the fourteen-year-old looked at him. “A-ya-kun can’t use items modules anymore because Kuroha was in Group 5, originally… and only one group can select at a time. Under that logic, he has to count.”

Yukki nodded. “Huh… Alright. That makes sense. If we can get rid of Kuroha, then… And you and I will make it, plus A-ya, Rika, and Shintaro, that makes… um, five.” He paused, frowning. “What’s that look?”

“You don’t know for sure that I will make it, do you?” Izaya closed his eyes, shrugging fluidly. “We don’t know what the outcome will be for that faceoff between Yato and I, hm? More importantly…” He opened his eyes again, then blinked at Yukiteru’s serious face.

“Truth be told, we don’t know that A-ya and I will make it either. If we can’t win together, I’d rather die together instead.” His voice rang hollow but sincere.

Izaya was quiet at first. “Whichever outcome is resulted for you… It’s a very bold move, Yukiteru. It’s really a shame I won’t be able to watch your show.”

“You have your own to perform,” he answered. They exchanged a look, smiling thinly.

“Right you are, Yukki. Hah, break a leg.”

“You too, Izaya. I’m sure that you’ve got something worth watching up your sleeve too.”

“I told you,” he shrugged again, “I’ll be raising hell and putting out the flames. Cheers to that, Yukki.”

He laughed slightly, warm and true. “Cheers.”


“It’s been about six days,” said Izaya. He was the first to answer.

Yukine was relieved by the broken silence. “Six days? What?”

“You protected Yato from Yoh-kun. He had killed you instead. That was… well, six days ago. It was just Yato and I after that.”

“I died?” Yukine was flabbergasted. “Wait—I mean, I died again? Then, how…?”

“I’m not sure how that works,” Izaya shrugged. “You became a Blessed Vessel, whatever that means. And that’s just going by the term on this items module here, so…”

Yukine looked to Yato for an answer, but he was still eerily silent, his hands over his mouth.

“Both of you…” commented Yukine slowly, “…are pretty beat up.”

“Oh, certainly,” Izaya chirped. “You missed quite a lot.”

“Yeah.” Yukine laughed nervously, eyes flicking back to Yato again. “I mean, his scarf’s gone missing. This has to be serious business.”

Izaya laughed heartily, and Yukine’s mouth twitched. “Right you are, Yukine-kun! I’d almost forgotten about that thing!  He must have lost it when fighting someone or another.”

“Right! Is everyone else okay?” Yukine stepped forward. “Where’s Kaneki and the rest? Seidou? Shirazu? Roppi? Shintaro?” He paused. “A-and where did these bodies come from? Where are we? Can I get some real explanations, here? And quick—this place is really freaking me out…”

“One thing at a time, Yukine-kun,” chuckled Izaya, remaining oddly friendly. “Sadly, Shirazu and Roppi haven’t made it this far. Kaneki, Seidou, and Shintaro were alright, I guess, last I saw them. Mind you, they’re in a fight right now, so who knows?” He shrugged. “A day after you were killed by Yoh, the survivors of a female rendition of these games came in to join the fun. Sadly, Hiyori-chan was not one of the survivors.”

Yukine paled. “Then, behind me… That means, she… Hiyori is…?” He looked at Yato, who still refused to respond. Then back at Izaya. “That… can’t be, can it?”

“Since your demise, and since finding out about Hiyori’s death, Yato here has gone down an interesting path indeed.”

Yukine’s voice lowered. “What do you mean?”

“You see Nora lying there, don’t you?” The spirit stiffened. “She’s dead now, but as she was one of the surviving members of the female game…”

“You mean to say,” he said, voice taut, “that he used Nora?”

“More than that. Yato has since killed perhaps seven or so innocent players in-game, using her as a weapon.”

“He…” Yukine took a step back. “No, he—he wouldn’t do that… What, are you saying you and him…?”

“A day after you died, he’d already split off from me,” Izaya explained calmly.

Another step back. “That’s not… Wh—why should I be listening to you, anyway? Shizuo wasn’t lying when he said you were a heartless bastard, you know. You—you’re lying to me.” Another step. “It wouldn’t be the first time! We all know that you’re a liar—Yato wants to help people! He just doesn’t know how, so he—he just needs a little bit of help believing in himself, that’s all.”

Izaya remained stoic through all these accusations. Just slightly, his brow furrowed, but Yukine couldn’t tell whether it was apologetic or annoyed. “Yukine-kun, isn’t it always the truth that’s most cruel? I’m only doing as I always do, and telling it like it is. I just refuse to sugarcoat it. Without you, and without Hiyori, Yato went back to his life of bloodshed. He told you that he was born as a God of Calamity.”

“But you always twist things! All of that—the killing, and that…” Yukine shook his head. “That was the past, not the now. What makes you think I believe you? I—I trust him. I trust Yato, so…” He looked at the god imploringly. He couldn't stand the stillness of Hiyori's empty body at his back. He needed somebody. He needed Yato. He was all he had. “—So tell me he’s lying. Stand up for yourself, won’t you? You wouldn’t go back on everything like that… You wouldn’t.” Yato appeared to shrivel and shrink, silent. Izaya merely continued to watch. “You didn’t… did you?” Nobody answered him. “Did you?

“I—” Yato choked on his words.

Izaya leaned his weight into the module, watching patiently. Yato could do one of two things, here. He could lie and claim innocence. If Yukine believed him, Izaya would be the criminal here, and would likely be sentenced to death. But Yato had a lot of guilt for someone who claimed he could do no wrong… It was now up to him whether he could face it and confess. Izaya was ready for either outcome.

Yato sank to his knees before his Shinki, crumbling under his shame. Yukine straightened. “I knew from the beginning…” Yato began slowly, his voice broken, “…that the truth of who I was by nature would drive you away. I was birthed from tragedy, and so it’s all I ever…” He sank lower, pressing his palms to the uneven debris in front of him. “I thought it was because of that… because of who I was… that I lost you. You and Hiyori both. And—” His tears glistened purple in the dim lighting as they fell to the floor, his head bowed low. “I was so scared—to tell you who I was, and you—were still at my side. Yukine, a Blessed Vessel? No one… no one… has ever transformed for me… It only happens ever so rarely, when a Shinki risks their very name for their god… Only when they are truly, truly loyal…”

Yukine’s eyes widened. Was it that special? But the way this was going… He didn’t know that he wanted to hear this all the way through.

“But it was me—who betrayed you, Yukine… I’m—so… sorry. Izaya… he—he’s not lying—this time.”

‘This time’… Izaya drew his lips into a thin line, but thinking on it, conceded his point.

“You mean to say… you did use Nora?” Yukine asked slowly.

“I—did…”

“And, using her… you killed handfuls of players?”

“I did.”

“And… you basically turned away from literally everything we worked on together?”

Yato tensed in his position. Yukine was starting to sound angry now. He couldn’t bear looking up at him. “Yes, I did,” he said, strained.

“So, wait.” He raised his hands in a gesture of exasperated confusion. “You did all of that?

“I—”

“C’mon, you’ve gotta be kidding me! I can’t leave you alone for a minute, can I?! This is ridiculous!”

Yato lifted his head, tentatively confused. “I…?”

“Man, I knew you were a pretty sucky master, but jeez!” He smacked his forehead. “You’re hopeless, I swear. What am I supposed to do with you? How do you expect to become a god of fortune like this?”

Yato’s eyes flashed. He looked away.

Yukine’s shoulders sank. “Tell me, Yato…”

“What?”

“Were you really able to forget about me that easy?” His voice was so small, saturated with hurt and fear. Yato turned quickly back again, his expression one of wide-eyed pain.

Izaya, at the pillar, blinked in mild interest.

“N-no!” said Yato. “Yukine, that’s not how it was at all! I thought of you all the time. But I—I thought I’d lost you.” He closed his eyes against the memory. “And—and it hurt.”

Yukine’s eyes softened, and he sighed, averting his gaze. “Is that the truth?”

“I-it is. Please, believe that much…” Opening tired eyes, he brought a hand to his chest, sitting up. “This pain, right now. Is it yours, too?  I did that, huh…”

Yukine could do nothing but stare nowhere, absorbing everything that this meant, all that he’d missed. Dying once was a tough enough pill to swallow, but twice? Come on… And coming back to this was hardly the welcome back anyone could hope for. This was nothing but a nightmare. But wasn’t it also true that if he were to let himself get too distressed, he would hurt Yato in the process? And obviously he was an utter mess. Even if Yukine’s first instinct was to push Yato away, he knew it would only match Yato’s grim expectations and the cycle of isolation would be complete for both of them.

“Alright, alright…” He took a deep breath.  “Then, Yato…” Yukine turned back to the god kneeling on the ground. “What’ll you do from here?”

He blinked. “Wha…?”

Yukine crossed his arms over his chest. “Obviously I put too much faith in you – you can’t take care of yourself at all. But now what? What’re you gonna choose? Because as your Shinki, I’m not gonna go around killing everybody. And I’m not sorry for that.”

“I… didn’t really expect…”

“Are you gonna keep to it, or are you gonna apologize to the people you’ve hurt and move forward?”

“How can I…? I’m only good at killing, so maybe it’s better, if I…”

“Well.” Yukine huffed, putting his hands on his hips. “I’m your moral guidepost, remember? Play to your strengths. If you really are only good at killing – and I’d believe it – then kill the bad guys. Kill the demons. Kill the ones that need to die. If that’s how you bring people happiness, so be it! But that’s up to you, Yato. Not me. And…” He paused. He didn't want to say the next statement for fear that it might be actualized. “…And if you’re going to keep killing pointlessly, I’d rather you release me and leave me nameless.”

Yato opened his mouth, and closed it again. Yukine didn’t dare breathe, nor think. He was plagued with a great fear: that Yato would release him after all, and abandon him for real. Was he, Yukine, enough? He was terribly aware of Hiyori’s body behind him. He didn’t want to think about it too much. Even if they made it home, would she be gone? But such hopelessness could not be what he resonated with here. If he wasn’t strong enough now, Yato would leave him, too. But the choice rested with Yato, and if he chose violence over Yukine, then…

The silence stretched across the divide, and was bridged by a simple, “Please.” Yukine watched, tensely waiting on an answer. “Yukine, I want you to show me the way.”

Yukine beamed at him, overcome with relief. “That’s the Yato I know!”

“Well, that’s…”

Applause rang through their small space, and both of them turned to look at Izaya, whose face had split into a smile. “There we are – what a show, what a show!”

Gradually, Yato regained his footing. “Izaya…”

“Hm?”

“…Thank you.”

Izaya waved him off. “There’s no need to thank me. I’m just being selfish as always; you know that’s how I am. If this hadn’t happened, I’d have been dead, probably. Nothing I do is out of the ‘warmth of my heart’ or whatever it is. You know – I’m a selfish machine, a puppeteer, a lying bastard—all of that.”

Yato stared at him for a while, then cocked his head. “Nah… You’re just an asshole.”

Izaya’s eyes flickered. “I suppose you’re right. Hehe…” He leaned heavily on the module, running a hand through his mussed hair. The adrenaline had worn off. “Speaking of which… how’re you gonna face everyone up top? So you’ve made up with Yukine-kun, but how will Kane-kun feel about you now? Seidou-kun? What about Yukki?” He laughed weakly. “Yukiteru, that is. Dunno that Yukine-kun has met him…”

Yukine furrowed his brow, stepping forward. “Izaya?”

Yato’s eyes hazed over. Izaya did have a point, didn’t he? Would he really be forgiven by the other players, now? There was no guarantee…

“You’re in the clear, kid,” Izaya said to Yukine. “But Yato, what can we say? I’ve done this much, but say, if I don’t make it outta this rubble, you’d have some explaining to do, eh, Yato? Wouldn’t that—be ironic? What a sardonic tragedy—hah…” His good leg buckled, and he collapsed sideways onto his uninjured knee, the Prophet lying discarded at his side. “All for nothing in the end, isn’t it?”

“Are—you okay?” asked Yukine, rushing over to him and bringing a hand to his back in concern. He looked him up and down. “You’ve lost a lot of blood; jeez… Yato, did you do that?”

Yato stiffened. “Not all of it!” he cried, defensive. He pointed at Izaya accusingly. “He blew this place up!”

“Where even are we?”

“A hospital! We’re in a hospital!”

Why are we in a hospital?!”

“I—I got slammed into here, don’t ask me!”

“It’s because of the morgue,” Izaya said weakly, smiling his old cruel smile. “Hiyori-chan was down here… And I thought it best to have your whole group together. Maybe it’d bring him to his senses, you know?”

Yukine stiffened, frowning. “That’s…” He lowered his head. “Yeah, I guess… that makes sense, huh? In a crappy sort of way.”

Izaya looked tiredly to Yukine, smile dissipating. “Hm…” He looked at the module without expression. “It really is something… to have you back, Yukine-kun. But you know… Under the circumstances, you still have every reason to hate me. Yato, too.”

“Oh, come on,” Yukine frowned, glaring at him. “You’re my teammate, aren’t you?” He sighed heavily. “And after everything Yato’s done, do you really think I can say I hate you just for being so annoying?”

“I wasn’t saying I was annoying—”

“Well, you are.”

They looked at one another pointedly.

Yukine rolled his eyes. “And yeah, I can be mad at you for being cruel, but I’m trying not to hate anybody, okay? So drop it.”

“That can be considered a weakness, Yukine-kun,” Izaya began, but Yukine cut him off with an, “I don’t think so. Hatred is poisonous, y’know.”

Izaya paused. Then, “Hmm, right you are, Yukine.”

Yato watched them interact, distant. All that Izaya had said was ringing in his ears. What could he possibly do now? There were only so many players left. Did he really deserve to make it to the end? Or rather… would everyone even allow him to? There would undoubtedly be conflict.

Rika, the child vessel to a goddess – well, there was no question that she would look down on him for falling as far as he had… And just the way she had so earnestly believed in him in his recovery, only for him to slaughter her teammates…

And Shintaro? How did he think of him, now, he wondered? He recalled his look of horror when he first attacked his group – where was it but outside this very hospital?

He thought of Seidou, screaming in outrage after he’d slashed at the auburn-haired kid – that was right; had that one made it? Probably not. Not to mention all of the chasing around Seidou had done with him. The best he’d probably think of him now was as a tasty snack.

He thought of Kaneki at his back: “The truth is, I wanted to save you. But we can’t do that anymore. At this point in time… all I can do is kill you.” Perhaps Kaneki wouldn’t want to end him, but with all that had happened, would it really be the logical conclusion to resort to execution? Maybe so.

He thought of Yukiteru. “It’s better that you pretend to be asleep, Yato.” The coldness in his voice. The certainty. “Because if you were to show you were awake, I might decide to kill you after all.” Yukiteru knew better than anyone that Yato couldn’t be trusted. What was he doing now? Had he gone along to the path of darkness, or was he still treading in light after all? If he had crossed the line, it would surely be Yato’s fault.

“Can I make a wish?” How brightly the moon had shone. And how it had reflected, glittering like starlight in Yukiteru’s blue eyes. His air was that of a hopeful child. How naïve he was, but how close he was to breaking.

Yato had said to him, “You wish to be at his side, don’t you?” He thought of A-ya, a child now having crossed the line, his soul corrupted by a demon. “May your fates…” Yato had said he would grant that wish. And what had he done? “…be verily intertwined.” He’d said that to Hiyori, too – a promise that they would remain a part of one another’s lives. And what had become of her? He’d failed her, and so…

“You’ll never be a hero.” Isn’t that what he had said to A-ya? Wasn’t it he, Yato, who had driven him to the ground and prompted his possession? Then, both of those kids, A-ya and Yukiteru both… Their demise would be his fault, wouldn’t it? Couldn’t he do anything at all? Yukiteru cared too much about A-ya, it seemed, and Yato had killed almost everyone else he had. And A-ya was too corrupt to merely cut the demon out—even with a Blessed Vessel, no, it shouldn’t be possible. Maybe he could save him by cutting all of his ties, but then even Yukiteru would forget him, and how would that grant his wish? Well…

A female voice greeted his ears, soft and warm: “For that kid, the only thing left is to get in his head, huh? It’s a thought.”

He blinked, bemused. It sounded like the girl he’d met in that vivid dream. Ayano, was it? He looked over at her body, but it was as still as it had been.  Hollow, he looked to Hiyori. He took a deep breath. So that’s it, huh?

“Oi,” he said, and Yukine and Izaya both looked at him. “I know what it is I gotta do.” A-ya never wanted to hurt anyone either. And what was the first thing he said to Yukki but, ‘Don’t worry, I won’t leave your side’? “But I’m gonna need your help, Yukine.”

Yukine got back to his feet, right beside Izaya. He nodded curtly. “Of course!”

“Now, we should try to make it outta here, huh?” He brought his arms around himself, slipping just a little into his old persona – it was so much easier with Yukine around. “This place is so dark and cramped – I can hardly breathe, here!”

“No—no kidding,” Yukine mumbled, all too aware of how dark it was.

“Well! Why don’t we test out those Blessed Vessel powers and blow our way outta here, huh?”

The Shinki gripped his hands into fists. Determination. “Alright!”

“Ah, you know…” said Izaya, chuckling with a slight hitch, “…if you just ‘blow your way out,’ you know you could crush me in the process, right? I hope it isn’t that you still want to kill me, Yato-san…”

Yato just smiled at him. “Sekki.” In a flash, Yukine’s dual blades were in either of his hands. Oh, how he missed this feeling… It felt like so long ago, somehow.

He stepped in front of Izaya, turning his back to him and grinning crookedly. “I’ve got you, ya filthy bastard. I won’t let you die just yet. Don’t want everyone killing me right off the bat, you know.”

“Gee, I’m touched,” Izaya answered drily.

Yato widened his stance. “Yukine, give it all you’ve got! Show me how amazing you are!”

“Right!” he answered in spirit, and with blades glowing bright white, he slashed upwards with all his might.

 

Chapter 104: Inside

Chapter Text

 

End the dream?

Saeru jumped on the opportunity. He lied, little master. He lied to you. He doesn’t want a reset at all. He doesn’t want to meet you in the next world, and the next, and the next. He wants to end it – he wants to end you.

“Yukiteru…” A-ya spoke slowly, each syllable drawn out as if he had trouble speaking. He was sodden, already, in the rain.

What a shame it is… A real pity. Your wish to be at his side cannot be granted anymore; it’s no longer possible. Not here, that is. The only way to make him understand is to meet him again in the past. You can have that! You can have that bliss! In the next world…

“You… you’re not on our side, after all.

Yukiteru shook his head. “I don’t expect you to understand now—but I am on your side, A-ya. I’ll always be on your side. You were… my first friend.” He spread his arms. “I don’t want you to suffer anymore. And I don’t want to repeat the same thing over and over again. That’s not enough for me. I want to meet you in the future, not the past. But also…”

He was cut off by his friend’s distorted screaming: “TRAITOR! YOU’RE A TRAITOR!” A-ya lunged for him blindly, and Yukiteru just barely blocked him with his leg.

“A-ya—”

DON’T YOU DARE APOLOGIZE,” he said, deranged. Grimacing, Yukiteru shoved him towards the railing, which A-ya jumped over easily.

Yukiteru jumped after him, floating gently to the ground. Good. He was away from Rika and Shintaro now. Seidou and Kaneki ran over to Konoha.

“I’m sorry we’re late—what’s the situation?” Kaneki asked urgently.

“Rin is gone, too,” Konoha spoke with trembling voice. The rain almost drowned him out. “I can’t tell whether Yukiteru is a good person or not.”

“Yukiteru is the one that killed Rin and Hide,” said Rika, all-important.

Kaneki darkened.

“But,” added Hanyuu, “both of them were—were people that never have made it.”

“And Yukiteru appears to know this,” said Rika. “He wants the game to end, I think… but his ways of doing so are very questionable.”

Kaneki, distracted by confusion, stared at Hanyuu and blinked. He’d never gotten to see her before then. “Ah…” He touched his chin. “Nice to meet you.”

“O-oh, likewise,” she answered nervously.

“And now,” said Konoha, “those two are fighting. Also, they hugged. I do not know why.”

Saeidou cocked his head to the side. “That’s very irrelevant.”

“What should we do?” cried Shintaro.

You should stay outta the way,” snipped Seidou. He paused. “Rika, too.”

“Neither of you can get hurt,” Kaneki agreed. “We know that now…” He almost looked back behind him, but thankfully stopped himself. Best not to look at Hide for now. He couldn’t handle it. He decided instead to focus his eyes into the haze of rain; how the city beyond them blurred into gradients of grey.

“So do we help out Yukiteru, or what?” asked Seidou.

“But he killed Rin…,” said the android, distraught. “H-he killed Hide…”

“We need to kill A-ya while we have the chance,” said Kaneki plainly. His tone was hollow. “It looks like Yukiteru has the same goal in mind, so we can figure out what to do about him afterwards.”

“Alright, fine,” grumbled Seidou.

“You can remain with Rika and Shintaro,” Kaneki told him, and he stiffened, frowning deeply. “Keep them safe. It’s convenient that the two of them are fighting each other now, but we don’t know how destructive they’ll be, or how fast the situation between them will change again.”

“Not to mention,” said Shintaro, “A-ya may try to make a move to try and kill Rika or me, since we’re apparently just big reset buttons ready be activated.”

“He won’t lay a hand on you,” Seidou said lowly, and Shintaro sweated nervously.

“Um… yeah, thanks. D-don’t forget about Rika, please…”

“And Konoha,” said Kaneki, “how are you doing? Are you alright?”

“I am,” the android nodded. “I need to end this, with that snake.” He looked at Shintaro, and caught his eye. Just slightly, Konoha smiled. Konoha didn’t often express emotion like that. Furrowing his brow, the NEET couldn’t help but break into a sincere grin, albeit weak.

“Please, Konoha,” he said. “I, I don’t know that you should… I don’t want you to… Well, I just…”

“Shintaro,” said Konoha, “even if this is all I can do for you… For me, who doesn’t understand anything, who knows nothing and feels nothing, I can at least know that I want you to see next summer. I would like to meet you there, if I can. You are a ‘friend,’ and for that, spending time here with you has fulfilled my wishes. Being with Roppi, and Kaneki, and Seidou… Being with everyone has been so nice, whether they’ve made it this far or not. But this person; this bad snake that is making people suffer, I know that it’s something that happened because I happened, too. If I can do anything to help stop that, I will. And to do this, too… for you, as a ‘friend;’ if I am saving you somehow, I’m happy no matter what happens. Because that’s what I want.”

“Konoha…”

Seidou, frowning into nowhere, didn’t seem all too impressed by his speech.

“For something with a so-called artificial soul,” said Hanyuu quietly, “I think, perhaps, that you have found your own existence. Even if you weren’t real, once, you have become so.” She smiled, gentle. “Your soul… I can sense it. Though you are no Child of Man, you are not empty, Konoha.”

“Yeah, really…” Shintaro rubbed at the back of his head. “You definitely have feelings – you just express them differently. But even I can tell, and I’m bad at that too.”

Rika was nodding happily.

“Much as it was with Shinichi,” Kaneki smiled sadly, “you do have a heart. Maybe our bodies don’t determine whether we are ‘heartless’ – or ‘monsters,’ for that matter.”

Seidou shifted, but did not contribute.

“Is that all so?” Konoha blinked. “Thank you. I will think about all of this.” Again, his mouth upturned. “I will hold it inside me, now.”

“Oh, Konoha, please…” Shintaro stepped forward slightly. “Be careful.”

The albino nodded, assuring. “The rain is nice.”

Shintaro sighed. “With everything else I’ve gone through, I can’t say I mind it.”

“Then, Konoha, you and I,” Kaneki said matter-of-factly. “Seidou…”

“I know, I know,” he said grudgingly. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of Shintaro and the kid.”

“Alright,” said Kaneki. Everyone gave a sort of wordless exchange before Konoha and Kaneki jumped down together.

Yukiteru had landed gently on his bare feet in the empty street. “It’s fine, A-ya,” he said. “I can stay unforgiven.”

“I can forgive—your death, because when we go back to the beginning, everything will be okay again! Right?”

“I see no point in replaying the same game again. But…” A-ya charged, and they clashed, raindrops scattering around them. “…I don’t wanna make it to the end without you, either. To be honest, right now, living without you…” He smiled a closed-eye smile at his corrupted friend. “…I’d rather die, A-ya.” A-ya bounded into the air, and Yukiteru followed him. They tumbled over one another in the air. “Please,” said the cloaked one, “I don’t—I don’t want to kill you.”

Then DIE!” The possessed spun, slamming the heel of his foot into Yukiteru. At the attack, Yukki’s defying of gravity temporarily failed him, and he plummeted into the asphalt below him, A-ya coming down on him before he could even regain a sense of himself. “You don’t—don’t want to kill me? But you’re trying, aren’t you? The end of the game is the end of us! Do you WANT that? It’s just like—just like C-ta, huh, Yukiteru? Huh?! ‘Cause he didn’t wanna kill me, did he? WELL, HE DIDN’T. I killed HIM. I can do that to you too, Yukiteru! I can!” Hand to Yukki’s throat, A-ya’s face split into a bone-chilling grin. “I’ve waited,” said the demon, “to be able to face you like this, Observer. Isn’t this—delightful?” Yukiteru got out a choked noise as A-ya’s grip tightened. “This is the result of your tragic story. This is where ‘love’ gets you… Fool.

“You’re—the one who made it—this way,” he choked out, expression twisted into a grimace. “If your future is set in stone… I’m the one—who can rewrite it—right? No matter what, we’ll see one another—again… I know it. And… we can—watch the stars together, again, can’t we? And we won’t… be lonely.”

A charge went through A-ya; his grip loosened on his neck. Memories of their shared time flitted through his mind and were drowned in inky black. Yukiteru smiled up at him knowingly. “You filthy brat,” the demon spat, shoving him further into the ground, his grip constricting again at his throat.

It was then that Konoha and Kaneki touched down, and also here when the burning rubble of the hospital swelled and burst with slashes of bright light, the debris suddenly becoming a collection of lethal projectiles to dodge. A-ya merely charged up with electricity that would disintegrate any stray pieces of building that dare fly his way. Kaneki released his kagune to slice through these, alarmed. Konoha jumped up and smashed a particularly large piece of wall with his fist, ensuring the safety of the three still at the bakery.

I could’ve gotten that!” snapped Seidou from his place on the roof, already in position to obliterate it himself.

“I am sorry, I think,” Konoha said bemusedly, and rejoined Kaneki.

The slashes of light rebounded against the dome, blooming bright blue and lighting up the entirety of the game field’s boundaries with the force before ricocheting back into the hospital and bursting into another explosion. The hospital was just made to be exploded, apparently.

They all braced against the shockwave, the rain changing direction as if the precipitation was trying to get away from the origin of the eruption. Kaneki’s spirits fell as the air cleared. This means Yato made it. What about Izaya?

“Konoha, get to A-ya,” Kaneki said firmly. “I’ll get Yato.”

Konoha nodded, and Kaneki departed from him, heading towards the wreckage. His kagune was out and at the ready, he stood waiting for Yato to appear—which he did, but…

Kaneki, though remaining on-guard, shifted out of his fighting stance, peering confusedly through the steam of evaporating rain, and the haze of the drops falling. Yato and Izaya were both emerging from the lower levels, the god taking it slow and steady with Izaya’s arm slung over his shoulders. At the informant’s other side… But could it really be?

Kaneki took a step back. He’d hallucinated before – could he trust it, seeing Yukine? Yukine, who had died on day four of the games? His blond hair, though sodden with rain, was still the same as it had been, his eyes of amber tired but determined. Maybe a tad annoyed. Yato’s gaze was away from Kaneki; his purple hair looked black in the rain. He and Izaya both remained stubbornly silent.

“C’mon, Izaya, say something, here,” Yukine snipped. “Explain to Kaneki what the hell’s going on. Unless you want me to?”

Kaneki, deciding to try and go with it, took a step back forward again, touching his chin. “I would like something from someone, at least. Yukine’s right.”

Izaya laughed weakly. “Well, Yukine-kun is back… And good news, he hasn’t forgotten me like everyone else.”

Yukine straightened. “Huh? What’s that?”

“Yato cut my ties,” Izaya explained offhandedly.

“He what? Oh, come on!”

“It’s alright, Yukine-kun,” Kaneki said calmly. “Izaya-san and I have become reacquainted, to a point. I’m happy to see you again, but how…?”

“The items pillar,” Izaya said. “Yato’s item… It was Yukine. He got him back.”

“And Nora?”

“She’s dead.”

“And Yato?” The half-ghoul looked to Yato, who didn’t answer at first. Yukine, too, looked over at him.

“Kaneki…” Yato raised his eyes to him, and Kaneki thought that his eyes surely hadn’t had that softness since their alliance, so long ago. “For everything I’ve done, you don’t have to forgive me. You can hate me all you want. I’ve hurt you, and I’ve hurt people you care for. But please, don’t kill me here. I have something I need to do first.”

Eyes sad, Kaneki smiled at him. “Part of my weakness, Yato, is that I am far too forgiving. I cannot make that mistake of kindness now. But I could never hate you, or anyone. That said, what is it, exactly, that you need to do?”

“Firstly, I ask that you tend to Izaya, here. I can’t be bothered with fixing him up.”

“How considerate,” Izaya said drily.

Yato ignored him. “Make sure he’s patched up. His leg’s pretty screwed up, and he’s bleeding a lot. No point in him bleeding out now.”

“Well, alright,” said Kaneki, “but…”

“I’ve messed up a whole lot, but I want to make it up as best I can. What’s going on with A-ya and Yukiteru right now?”

Kaneki blinked. “Yukiteru was just allied with us, but it seems he killed two of our teammates… Rika-chan said that he was trying to end the game faster, while A-ya is still trying to reset, but I’m not all too sure.”

“Ah, Yukki,” sighed Izaya. “You’re right, Kane-kun. Right now, Yukiteru is playing the role of the antagonist in order to reach an ending. As far as he’s concerned right now, the only ones that are necessary to the game’s end are Shintaro-kun and Rika-chan.”

Kaneki stared emptily at him, wondering who in any world could sacrifice Hide like he was ‘unnecessary.’

“I know he wants to save A-ya-kun,” the informant continued, “but if he can’t succeed in doing so, then he plans on dying with him.”

“Is that where we’re at?” Yato mused.

Yukine looked from one person to the next, trying to piece together all of the empty spaces he had.  “Ah,” said Kaneki, “you look confused, Yukine.”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Yukiteru and A-ya were from Group 3, back in the beginning,” Izaya elucidated. “Both of them were human back then, but since your, ah, departure, they’ve attained special items from a real, bona fide game master – some kind of items master. Yukiteru has the cloak and the gravity powers now because of it. A-ya’s a special case, though. See, Kuroha did die after you did, but see that android there?”

Yukine stiffened in alarm. “But—he’s all… white? His vessel—so he lived? He’s free now?”

“Yes,” Izaya nodded, pleased. “But now the demon is possessing little A-ya-kun.” He paused. “Yato and I have both become involved with both of them in some way or another. Even though A-ya-kun doesn’t remember me.”

“Sorry,” Yato grumbled.

“Oh no, don’t worry about it,” Izaya waved him off. “It just sure is a shame, knowing everything I had forged with him has been destroyed, and all.”

“Okay, you guys are just both jerks,” Yukine sighed.

“I’m not as bad as him,” cried Yato.

“At least I don’t go around slaughtering people,” scoffed Izaya.

“I know I’m bad! Leave me alone!”

“Um, if I may,” Kaneki broke in, brow furrowed. A Mona Lisa smile touched his lips – this ridiculous bickering was still nostalgic. This didn’t mean that he could trust Yato to do as he pleased. “When I take Izaya over to be treated, what will you do, precisely?”

Yato looked at Kaneki, suddenly all seriousness again. “I’ll take care of A-ya,” he said solemnly. “I might need someone to keep Yukiteru away from him. If you would…?”

Kaneki nodded slowly. He looked at Yukine. “Can I put faith in this plot?”

Yukine stared at him, then looked at Yato, becoming increasingly nervous. “Yato, what are we…?”

“This will be my last time, okay?” He helped the frowning Izaya over to Kaneki, who watched Yato suspiciously. Izaya was passed on to Kaneki, his arm slung over the half-ghoul’s shoulders, now. “You won’t be doing any of it, alright, Yukine? It’ll be all me. We need to get rid of the demon, that’s all. I need to ‘get inside A-ya’s head’…” He looked down, expression somber. “I’ll give them what they want. I still have a wish I need to grant.”

“But, Yato…”

“Trust me,” Yato smiled to Yukine. “This’ll be it. Then everything will be resolved.”

“And we can go home, then?”

Yato faltered, then beamed. “Absolutely!” he gave a thumbs-up. “You can count on me!” He directed his attention to Izaya. “Izaya, you go get fixed up. Kaneki… thank you for giving me this last shot. Take care, now – have faith and maybe god’ll keep ya safe, I-za-ya.”

“Somehow, I still don’t have faith in you,” Izaya smiled thinly.

“Oh, you’ll have time.”

Kaneki shook his head, closing his eyes. “Glad to see you back. Both of you.”

“I’m just glad to see you’re still around,” Yukine said modestly, sticking his hands in his pockets. “I’m glad to be back, too. Even though I feel like I didn’t leave…”

“Well, you be careful. I’ll be right back.” Much to Izaya’s chagrin, the half-ghoul scooped Izaya up in his arms and bounded back over to the other side of the street, where he could leave the informant with Shintaro, Rika, and Seidou to be tended to.

“Thanks, Yukine.”

“Hm?” The spirit looked up at the god, brow furrowed. “For what, now?”

“For believing in me anyway.” He watched the scene as Konoha tore A-ya from Yukki only for Yukki to attack Konoha.

Yukine looked away, shoving his hands deeper into his jacket pockets. “Well, someone’s gotta.” He paused. “Besides… faith is something that can’t exist without doubt. Knowing your doubts but believing anyway – that’s what faith is, isn’t it?”

Yato smiled a bit. He couldn’t think of how to respond to that. “Are you ready?”

Yukine hesitated, but nodded firmly. “I am.”

Sekki.” In a flash, two swords came to the god’s hands. This surge of power was unlike anything else. He could take on the world with Yukine at his side…

“Let’s do this,” he said, walking slowly towards the skirmish between the three in front of him. “Careful not to cut them, just separate them. Alright?”

“What if I miss, though?” Yukine asked, strained.

“Trust yourself!” Without waiting further, Yato jumped into the air and slashed down, breaking Yukiteru and A-ya apart as he landed between them with a flourish, swords crossed and held at the ready for an attack at any side.

Konoha staggered backwards. “Is this help, or trouble?” the android asked no one, his voice quavering in his uncertainty.

“Yato,” exclaimed Yukiteru, dumbfounded, “what are you doing?

“Granting your wish, Yukki!” he answered brightly. His eyes flashed exuberantly blue. “You see, I’ve made my decision too.”

“You made—a wish, Yukiteru?” asked A-ya, tittering. “A wish, on a god, huh? How ironic, isn’t it? What was it? When mine, to be at your side…”

Yukiteru seemed struck. “That’s what it was? A-ya… Then—!”

What’s that nasty god doing here now, anyhow? Aa, the one that killed Twelve, too, isn’t it? You hurt my group, didn’t you? Well, here’s my chance for revenge. Tell me, why don’t you – are you a fight worth having yet? Hah?

“You’ll have to let me know, Kuroha,” Yato smiled slyly. “Seeing as I’ve got the best Shinki anyone could ever ask for on my side!”

“Yato, get out of here!” snapped Yukiteru, apparently outraged. “I don’t want anyone here. That’s my wish, do you hear me? This is between me and A-ya – that’s it! You want to grant my wish? Get rid of Konoha! Make him leave me alone!

“A-ya, who do you think is better at granting wishes, do you think?” grinned Yato. “A god, or a demon? Will this leave either of you happy? What is it you’re longing for, right now?”

A-ya’s lip curled. “What I long for… The beginning – I want to see the beginning again; I’ll never, never run out of time!

Yato, still poised between the two of them, looked at the possessed with narrowed eyes. ‘You can only get inside his head anymore,’ she said, which means… That’s right.

The ‘true A-ya’… What do you want? At this point, along with Yukiteru, too, he may just want to die. That is…

“I’ll give you exactly what you want – it’s been awhile, Kuroha, since you’ve seen me at my best, huh?” I can’t cut Kuroha out of him, they’re too enmeshed in one another now. I can’t cut his ties—I can’t save him like that; he’s too far gone. “Do you remember what it looks like to purge demons?”

Are you really going to kill me?” they sneered. “Go ahead and try.

“Yato, don’t!” Yukiteru protested. “You can’t!”

“I can do what I want,” he sniffed. “I’m god.”

“That’s not—!” Yukiteru went to stop him, but was suddenly yanked backwards by Kaneki. Laughing wildly, A-ya shot into the air. Yato followed, right at his tail. “Let me go!” Yukki demanded. “A-ya!

“Oh, so it’s a game of tag, now?” Yato asked through gritted teeth. He kept trying to swipe at A-ya to no avail. He felt an uncanny similarity to when A-ya had first activated his ability, and was facing Yato as the Dark-Clad Hero. Only now he was laughing distortedly, and it was Yato’s turn to pretend to be the hero. Also, Yato didn’t have his puffy-fluff scarf, and A-ya didn’t have his red cape. Or the cat ears.

I need to—pin him, but how?

He glanced back at where the rest of the remaining players were. They were off of the rooftop now, remaining near the bakery but close enough to see the action. Izaya was stubbornly standing on a leg now splinted somewhat properly. His arms were crossed; he watched the fight with no expression. Had he always been so stone-faced?

Seidou kept shifting positions, itching to do something other than stand and wait. He watched Yato warily, as if expecting him to turn on them at any moment. The god had to concede it was a fair and healthy paranoia.

Shintaro was watching hopefully, his eyes shining red. Yato thought that he saw the hikkiNEET nod at him. Then there was Rika, holding that same armadillo in her arms. Her old eyes were knowingly watching him as he fought to dispel his own guilt. In one of his ground landings, Yato gave her an apologetic smile. He was blessed with a childish grin, assuring and warm. The weight in him grew lighter, if slightly.

It was Konoha who caught A-ya off-guard – Yukiteru was crying out to him to look out, but Konoha had grabbed onto him anyway, wrapping his arms around his middle from behind and locking them there, wincing as the possessed one struggled and screamed at him: “You pathetic excuse for a person – idiotic imitation; you can’t best me, you filthy brat—why do you even continue to try?!

Yato landed, skidding on the asphalt. “Here it is, Yukine. Remember what I said.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s you—not me.” Yukine felt as though Yato was perhaps a little bit too placid; too apologetic as he spoke.

“You’ll be aiming for the demon, not Konoha, okay?”

“Right. I got it.”

“Do you trust me?”

“I do; just get on with it! Let’s finish this and go home already!”

Yato smiled, penitence potent. “Let’s do that.” He raised both blades, and began his incant: “Thou who hast desecrated this Land of the Rising Sun…

Time slowed. The blades began to glow white. A-ya’s eyes widened – was it A-ya’s fear, or Kuroha’s? Both? Yato widened his stance, ready to lunge forward.

…with my advent, I, the Yato god…

“YATO, STOP!” Yukiteru screamed. He begged the god to listen to him, but he only kept going.

…lay waste with the Sekki…

Konoha grimaced as A-ya’s body squirmed more forcefully, more desperately. He writhed with all his might, his eyes wild. I don’t want to die. Yato started forward, swords flashing.

…and hereby release, Yukine!” He cast his swords behind himself as they transformed back into the stunned form of Yukine, who staggered backwards, dumbfounded. In a flash of blue, Yato disappeared. Yukine called after him, but he was gone.

“Did he…” said Seidou slowly, eye narrowed, just behind the spirit, “…just, really…?”

A-ya erupted in a horrific shriek of two voices – Konoha tried his best to hold on, his eyes squeezed shut.

“A-ya!” called Yukiteru, still held back by Kaneki. “Are you…?”

GET OUT OF ME—OUT OF MY BODY—!” He stopped short, eyes rolling. “Thought I couldn’t possess people, too?” He smiled vacantly. “Ever heard of divine possession? I’ll show you the will of god! Stop; stop—I can’t; this is my body, it’s mine.

“Yato!” Yukine tried to approach, but was stopped with a hand to his shoulder. He looked back to see Izaya there.

“This is all him now, Yukine.”

Even Yukiteru had stopped struggling, frozen. A-ya had slumped in Konoha’s arms, and the android’s legs had given in beneath him. He kept holding onto him in a death grip.

“I think…” said Hanyuu quietly, “…that when he wakes up again, we will see who won.”

“Talk about putting it in god’s hands,” Shintaro said weakly.

“You can let me go,” Yukiteru said lowly, and Kaneki released him, remaining close at his side. The cloaked one didn’t seem to want to do anything more, though, only gazing desperately into A-ya’s wilting figure. Yukine clenched his fists at either side. Izaya kept a firm grip on his shoulder. Everyone was silent, waiting with bated breath. Even the rain became hushed.

Seems the greatest battles are in our heads.

 

Chapter 105: Helpless

Chapter Text

 

It was dark. Yato stood in a black haze, looking warily around for any traps. It was a gamble to see whether I could actually perform my divine possession on him. If it were my realm, this would be close to impossible because this body’s inhabited by two beings already… Different realm, different rules. But with the limitations of the game on top of that… I guess I just got lucky.

His gaze came to rest on the path in front of him. Then, this is A-ya’s mindscape, huh? He started forward into a murky maze. I need to find A-ya. Looking around, all he saw was grey and black. Even his deity’s eyes could not see through this kind of darkness. A horrible, sodden feeling was sinking into him, making him ill at ease. It was not cold as he might have expected here, but warm. He felt as though he were wading through the hottest days of summer, the haze clogging the gears of his own mind, the air clinging to his body and catching in his lungs. This atmosphere sapped at him quickly, though he kept on. He stopped to put a hand on one of the high walls, and flinched away from it. It burned – he looked down at his hand and made out a dark splotch on his palm where he had pressed his hand to the wall. Slowly, it began to spread, and he winced. He could identify this easily.

Blight.

He closed his hand into a fist and, resolving not to touch the walls anymore, continued on. Then Kuroha has influence over everything in this place… I have to be careful. I’m vulnerable here – I can be hurt just by touching him in this form. And without a weapon…

Why don’t we play a game?

Yato turned his head upwards. The voices came from all around, but his senses began to tune into the mindscape now. He could make out the energies instead of feeling only an expanse of hazy darkness.

How about… hide-and-seek?

Yato clicked his tongue, kicking off from the ground and leaping onto one of the nearby walls of the maze, running along it towards where he could sense a presence. He went from wall to wall, following the energy like following a thin thread. By the time he’d reached its source, however, he stopped short. Before him was a pit of ebony black, bottomless and ready to swallow him whole.

This is my realm now. Just give up.

Yato gave a tch, braced himself, and jumped into the hole awaiting him, shielding his face on the way. He felt it take him in, scalding him. The inky black dug in, blighting his hands and the open flesh on his leg. He closed his eyes tight, plummeting endlessly – he felt as though he were jumping into a furnace, but—

He hit ground, sudden and hard. He gasped, tumbling forward and slamming into something solid. “Oww…” Rubbing at his head, he looked up at what he’d hit: a wardrobe. “Ah?” He looked around – he was in a regular looking room… a small bedroom. He examined a wardrobe, bed, desk, and bookshelf: So many books on the occult—this is questionable. What kind of kid…? He scratched at his head, dumbfounded. “This must be A-ya’s room… A re-creation of his home, probably. Well… it is his mind.”

The only thing lighting the room was a television, flickering static. Frowning, Yato looked up where he’d come to find an expanse of sky through the hole in the ceiling – it showed the stars, shining bright. “…Hm.”

“My favorite legend,” said the television screen, the speakers distorted, “…is of the game Lonely Hide and Seek. Who is the demon we really seek?”

If that’s the game we’re playing, doesn’t that make me the demon? Yato sighed. He went to the bedroom door and turned the handle. Looking through the open door, he saw an open living area.

Stepping into the next room, he felt suddenly ill. This is on the game field… He recognized this house as the one where they’d found Yoh’s body. The one where he’d killed Celty, and Minene—leaving it in flames… And Akise…

He shook his head, listening intently. There was the muted thudding of what sounded like a baseball bat being swung into a tree trunk. That’s right. Yukiteru did say that his group had taken refuge here, in the beginning…

He could still sense the energy he could only presume was A-ya and/or Kuroha. “The only way to go is forward,” he muttered to himself. Daylight poured in from the windows. Looking around now at the wooden flooring, he saw four blankets laid out on the floor – they must have camped out in the living room. I can’t say I remember who the other two members were. Both kids, I think… And all of them human.

He began towards what he presumed was the front door, but stopped at the ringing of a cellphone. He straightened, alarmed. “Phone?” He wheeled around to find the source, identifying it lying face-up on the kitchen counter. As it kept ringing, he picked it up tentatively, looking at the caller ID: Mary-san.

Furrowing his brow, Yato answered. The line was silent. “What a tease,” he said, and the line crackled on the other end.

Never answer a call from Mary-san,” they said, and the room darkened. It seemed as though the day had fallen to night, the windows blacked out. Yato turned on his heel to look behind him, where the blankets now appeared to be occupied. The forms even seemed to breathe. Yato narrowed his eyes – they were nothing but shadows; he sensed no energy from them.

Peering into the blanket closest him, he could make out the head of a dark silhouette. Nothing but an illusion, he thought, and its eyes flashed bright green, boring into him. He only shook his head, putting the phone down and going towards the door. I’ve gotta hurry up here. With urgency, he went to the front door and jostled the door handle. He clicked his tongue. Locked.

“I’ll answer any question,” said a voice from beyond the door. Yato blinked, leaning closer to the wood and trying to listen. “Ask anything you like.”

Yato drew his lips into a thin line. Should he really play along, here? “Who’s lying in the blankets, there?”

“Easy, there’s not anyone – the beds are empty.”

Yato rolled his eyes; this was pointless. He glanced behind him to find that, yes, they were empty, but there were more shadows surrounding him now. He counted nine different figures. He felt uneasy looking through them, recognizing a few: Celty, Minene… Ciel? “Why are there shadows here?”

“You need ten people to play the Answer Man,” answered the voice.

“And you’re the Answer Man?”

“Sort of. I’m a crude imitation of him.”

“Fine. Where’s A-ya?”

“Hiding.”

Yato refrained from growling. “Why are you so useless?

“Because I’m stalling you.”

Yato clicked his tongue.

“My turn: are you, Yato, really living now?”

Yato thought about this. He thought of his potent rage for Izaya, but also of his gratefulness. He thought of the feeling of using Yukine as his blessed vessel; the agony of losing Hiyori, and Nora. He thought of his relief in Yukine’s return; his shame. “Yes, I think I am.” He flashed a cold smile. “For now, I am.”

There was a click, and Yato blinked. Grabbing hesitantly at the door handle again, he found he could turn it now. Ignoring the shadows still behind him, he stepped out onto—a rooftop. Knowing the mindscape didn’t always make sense, Yato walked onto the roof without faltering. He looked up into a starry sky again, the moon shone bright. He blinked bemusedly, then squinted. Was that a pyramid on the moon? A shooting star caught his eye, streaking white through the firmament above. Huh.

Looking back at where he’d come, it seemed he was now at one of the residential houses from the northwestern portion of the playing field. But all around the house, there grew a thick expanse of trees that went as far as he could see. The next conclusion was obviously to jump into the forest, and so that’s what he did.

He landed in a vaguely familiar clearing – he thought he’d set up camp here once with Nora; why was that? Because there was a dead body; other groups usually steered clear of the dead. He recalled glazed-over green eyes, a soft smile, and spilled crimson. That was one of their teammates. That’s right, what was it? From A-ya’s realm…

He was distracted by the sound of flapping wings. Birds? He looked up in time to see a murder of crows flying away. Still just an illusion. Looking back at eye level, he saw a tree stained red, a pair of red-handled scissors sticking out of the stained trunk. It looked almost as if the red were leaking from its stabbing point. He went to the tree, examining the scissors until he was snapped to attention by a movement at his leg. Jerking away and looking downward, he saw a stuffed rabbit there, its worn fabric colored pink. It had buttons for eyes, and sewn thread for a mouth. Its neck was torn, the stuffing coming out the side. It stood on two legs, its head barely the height of Yato’s boots. Its buttons stared into Yato for what seemed a few whole minutes.

“What are you supposed to be?”

No response.

“Alright, a rabbit; I get it. Can’t be an Ayakashi, can you? Wrong realm for that… So, a figment of A-ya’s mind, again?”

Seemed that the rabbit was mute.

“Look, Rabbit, I need to find A-ya.”

It tilted its head suspiciously, the tear in the side of its neck more pronounced. A monarch butterfly fluttered by, perching itself on the rabbit’s shoulder.

Yato eyed the butterfly. “I messed up. I pushed him to be this way, technically. So, I… want to try and help him out. But to do that, I need to find him.”

The rabbit didn’t appear to understand this explanation. Yato tried to step forward, but the rabbit moved to get in his way. Startled, the monarch fluttered up into the air, then descended back to the toy’s shoulder.

“Alright…” He rubbed at the back of his head. “Let’s see. A stuffed toy… Lonely Hide-and-Seek, maybe? Well… I’m playing hide-and-seek, Rabbit. I’m ‘it.’ Wanna help me out? Or are you on his team?”

The rabbit righted its head, seeming to think this over. Then it turned around, walked over to the roots of the tree, took its stubby pink arms, and began attempting to dig. The butterfly had taken to the air again, fluttering nervously around the stuffed animal.

“Down there?” Yato asked blankly. “You’re really helping me? Thanks, I guess… Ah, I can dig better than you; here.”  The rabbit turned on him in indignation, and Yato laughed. “You can’t dig anything with those stubby arms of yours!” It looked down at said appendages, contemplative, while Yato crouched down and ran his fingers through the dirt. It’s loose… He dug through the loose earth, making a shallow hole before the ground caved in, sinking into a sort of pit. Yato stood and backed up. “Well… here we are.”

The rabbit hopped into its hole, the butterfly following fast at its heels.

“Eh—oi!” Yato went in feet-first after them, sliding down a few meters before reaching level ground again. The rabbit was waiting for him with a lantern, the butterfly at its shoulder. After Yato had reached the underground level, it turned abruptly and began to walk away and down a tunnel. The butterfly briefly flapped its wings, and then calmed again. Yato followed down the path, which grew steadily more stony and damp. A gust of heated air blew through them, and Yato paused to shield his face. With the warm, humid air came a swarming sensation of that energy he was searching for.

Lowering his arm with a new sense of urgency, Yato peered through the dark to try and see. The rabbit had halted too, turning to look at Yato in an impatient question… or at least, that’s what it seemed like. It was hard to tell with the face of a stuffed rabbit toy, perpetually stuck in adorable impassivity. The darkness rolled like mist at their feet, and the lantern no longer seemed to be able to penetrate far into the shadows ahead.

Yato evaluated his options. “Thanks, you guys,” he nodded, and ran into the darkness ahead. He thought he caught a glimpse of the butterfly fluttering suddenly after him, shocked at his abrupt leave, but then everything was ebony black again. He felt much like he had jumped back into the pit, but now he was on his feet and running as fast as he could. The good thing about being in the mindscape was that he wasn’t plagued by, say, his broken ankle. The bad thing was his vulnerability to corruption and blight. Oh, and also he was in someone else’s territory, and they by default would have the upper hand.

The black went on and on; he began to wonder if perhaps this path was a trap that led on for an eternity – it was sure feeling like it. He didn’t know how long he ran without obstacle—not that it would matter, knowing that time was always distorted in a mindscape. The energy around him was so potent it felt like it was all around him, but eventually, eventually he felt it center in front of him.

He slowed. Measuring his pace, he approached the source. Gradually, gradually, a figure came into view, kneeling on ebony ground and in swirling black mists. He seemed comfortable there, his legs furled beneath him and one palm resting on the ground at his side. It did look to be A-ya in his original attire: black hoodie and red plaid pants.

Yato came to a halt in front of him, but the source did not look up. “A-ya.” He didn’t answer, and so Yato frowned, crouching down to be at his level. “Look, I wanna chat. The first time we fought… There’s some stuff… well.” He drew his lips into a thin line, looking away. He scratched at his head. “I was kinda… I wasn’t very… Okay, so I was pretty bad. I was acting in a way I’m not really proud of, and I want to correct something. If you would let me, I want to help you. You can get outta this, but at this point it’s a choice that only you can make. A-ya, I can save you, but you need to take my hand.”

“A-ya…” he answered slowly, lifting his head, “…will never be a hero.” He looked into Yato with slitted pupils and shining red eyes. He smiled. “Isn’t that what you told him?”

Yato immediately stood up, taking a step back. The demon, then. “Where’s A-ya?” he growled.

“A-ya’s right here,” he said placidly, eyes narrowing. “It was a mistake for you to come this far. You idiot—how foolish to believe that you can ‘save’ him… I am his savior, in his mind. That makes you the demon. Don’t you get it? He chose this. He chose it willingly.”

“You can’t convince me,” Yato scowled. “Of course that’s what he thinks – demon’s twist things, and—”

“On the contrary!” the demon cut him off. He raised his palms to the ebony sky. “Don’t get me wrong, the little master surprised me, too! But you see, he knows that demons twist things, he knows my nature, and he knows that I’m leading him towards a repeating tragedy. But he agrees with me wholeheartedly – in fact, he proposed resetting the game to me before I had even led him there. I didn’t so much as need a gentle finger pointing him in the right direction – that is, my direction. We have common interests, and even more than that… even after my methods came to light, he more than accepted me, he continues to take pleasure in my company!” He laughed heartily. “Calamity God, you are truly blind in your mission. You cannot save someone who finds comfort in Hell!”

“That’s not…” Yato furrowed his brow, thinking hard. Even if that were true… could that be the ‘real A-ya’? If Yato didn’t have so much guilt to alleviate, he may have honestly just killed the kid by now. But he did have all that guilt, and after all, he had a wish to fulfill.

He thought of the way Yukiteru spoke of A-ya, and the way A-ya had acted as the Dark-Clad Hero. If A-ya’s ideal was of a hero, what had distorted it to something evil? If A-ya really understood so much, then he’d know that demons were evil, and that there was no changing that. Yato could see the difference between A-ya’s soul then and now – there had to be some kind of corruption. He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter whether he came to that conclusion, Kuroha.”

“Please,” the demon smiled, “call me Saeru. It’s more accurate now.” He tilted his head. “Does it really not matter?”

“No, it doesn’t. Because I’m sure A-ya never wanted to hurt anyone either. However…” His eyes grew distant. “…if, say, A-ya were to believe that it was in his nature… Or if he had already dirtied his hands, by accident or otherwise, he would doubt his own goodness. I get it – that kind of backwards logic… ‘Sometimes to do some good you’ve gotta be the bad guy,’ or something like that. It doesn’t mean you’re right, Saeru. It just means he was caught in a time of weakness.”

“You’re one to talk,” the demon scoffed. “Being a god, you should understand it too – the fleetingness of human life; its lack of purpose… People meeting, forming ties, making friends, lovers, or even enemies… It’s all pointless. When history repeats itself, it all gets boring, you know? Who cares if people die? That’s my ideology, and A-ya’s ‘rotten nihilism,’ as he puts it. Living so long, and being above humans, you should know it too.”

Yato shrugged. “I tried to cast all that away for the longest time. But you know, for some reason I still couldn’t stop myself from caring. And besides…” He looked down on the demon with some disgust. “You say it like we gods and demons are above humans… We’re lowly things; especially someone like me. We gods wouldn’t exist without a wish to birth us. That is, without humans, we wouldn’t be. And for me, my existence is so fleeting that I can’t possibly look down on the mortality of humans. For me, my existence relies on the wish that made me. Without that, I’d be gone – not dead, just disappeared off the face of the universe.”

The demon glared at him, crimson eyes flickering.

“Oh, what?” Yato cocked his head, smirking as he crossed his arms over his chest. “That hit too close to home?” he leaned up close. “My bad.”

“Oh, shut up,” he hissed. “Smartass.”

Yato laughed delightedly. “And anyway, I’m here on a wish myself, you know? You should know better than anyone the importance of granting a wish. What is it you’re trying to grant, huh? Saeru… Is it that A-ya’s wish was to be by Yukki’s side?”

The demon snickered horribly. “No. Fool, his wish was one that will never be granted: a wish ‘not to be helpless.’ Isn’t that cute?”

“Well, I’m here on a wish to make sure Yukki remains at A-ya’s side. Soo… It seems we’re having a little bit of a problem here.”

“You’re the one…” – here, the demon got up on his knees, straightening – “…who asked which was better at granting wishes – demon or god… It’s time to prove that you’re the pathetic one. In here, I can kill you easily.” A-ya’s face screwed up as though in pain before he doubled over, clutching at his stomach with one hand and bringing his other hand down to the floor in front of him, dry heaving. Yato widened his stance in preparation, watching closely the one in front of him.

When A-ya lifted his head, he was still grimacing, a snake’s head appearing in his parted jaws. A-ya held his throat gingerly, one eye squeezed shut and leaking tears triggered by the discomfort of his esophagus. The snake, head free, flicked a violet tongue and appeared to smile. “I’ll be the one to drive you out of here,” said the snake, and it began to slide further from its master’s mouth, slithering down to the ground as its body emerged gruesomely. As the end of its tail came free, A-ya turned away and began coughing, gasping for air and wiping his face of saliva and tears.

Yato, through all this, watched with a look of perturbation. The snake raised its head, and Yato took a step back. “What the hell…”

“Well then, Calamity God…” the snake seemed to sneer, “…who is the demon you really seek?”

Yato stared as the snake took on a new form, growing and metamorphosing into a small figure, smaller than A-ya – a girl. It was Nora in front of him now, approaching with her warm, jaded red eyes, glowing softly.

“Is it,” it said in her voice, “this girl, once human?” It tried to latch onto him in her regular show of affection, but Yato jerked away.

Get the hell away from me!” he cried. “That is so not cool!”

It tilted its head, the visage of Nora blank and confused. “I noticed you falter, but that’s not… Hm… Then…” Lowering its head, it grew to Yato’s height, taking on his own visage. Yato stared into his mirror image, blinking. “Is it that you are your own demon?” Smirking cruelly, his mirror image cocked its head to the other side. “How deliciously ironic.”

“I’m kinda uncomfortable with this,” Yato admitted, taking a step back again, inching his way towards A-ya. He didn’t dare flick his gaze to the human’s spirit. “Come on, you could totally do better. I look better than that!” His mirror image frowned. “You’ve got the hair all wrong!” He flipped his purple locks as if to prove his point. “My hair is fluffy and luscious – anyone could tell that you’re the fake!”

“If you want to make this into a regular fight,” said the demon lowly, becoming a dark silhouette without features, “we can do that, too.”

“Fine on me,” Yato answered, making a move to attack without hesitation. The demon caught his fist, and he made for a kick that ‘Saeru’ ducked from.

“You don’t have a chance… Calamity God you may be, but I’m a demon of dreams, and you’re in my realm now.” The featureless silhouette had taken on the form of A-ya now, a smoky rendition of the fourteen-year-old that still knelt just a few paces away.

“This isn’t yours,” Yato spat. “This is A-ya’s realm, not anyone else’s.”

The demon only laughed derisively, lunging for Yato as the god crossed his arms in front of him for protection. The demonic form of A-ya’s fist made contact, and the god slid backwards, wincing. Even making contact with him, he could tell…

Jeez; this wasn’t healthy.

Oi!” he called harshly. “A-ya, snap out of it! I don’t have time for you to tap out on me here! Listen to me—ya might wanna hear this!”

He and Saeru clashed. A-ya, nearby, did not respond.

“You think you’re helpless? I can’t say I’m not guilty of making you think so…” The demon swiped at his face, and though his fist only skimmed Yato’s cheek, the holy one staggered backwards, bringing a hand to his face. That blight’ll be the death of me. He looked to the demon, who grinned at him with A-ya’s face.

“No reason for you to try,” the demon said with a brow furrowed in mock apology. “Sadly, I can’t imagine that the little master would be receptive to you.” He made the move to attack, then, and Yato dodged, jumping into the air.

Even touching him is bad news for me, at least regarding skin contact. Makes him a tough opponent. Good thing I don’t have a broken ankle here. With this, he made a move to kick the demon square in the gut, successfully sending him skidding backwards. …Even though he came right back at him, grinning horribly.

The best thing was to use feet as offense, dodging as much as possible. Too much blight, and he was done for.

He tried again, raising his voice. “Come on, A-ya, come back to me here! How about this?” He gave the demon a heavy blow to his chest with his fist, immediately regretting his choice of attack: Saeru grabbed his wrist, pushing up his sleeve and spreading the blight with a wicked grin. Yato yanked himself away and pressed, “I can grant your wish, A-ya. It’s only five yen!” He got a kick to the gut, and staggered. “Well, I may even consider—doing it for free, but that’s a one-time deal, got it? It’s only because of circumstance. Maybe you can pay me later, huh?

“The point is, I can make you not-helpless. How about it?”

“Stop it,” hissed the demon. “That’s my master, and my wish to grant. You can’t just take it.

“Why not?” Yato sniffed.

“He and I already made a deal!”

The god scoffed, dodging an attack. “It’s not like he gave you his soul. So what? He’s your vessel, big deal! If he’s the master, he can do what he wants!”

“And he wants me.” Yato flipped over him as a dodge to another attack, tried to kick him in the back, and failed as the demon whirled around and ducked. “That’s my point.

“Stop speaking for him, would ya? He can speak for himself! Can’t you, A-ya?”

It was subtle, but the human’s eyes flickered. Yato grinned.

“Yeah, that’s right! You have a voice, so use it!” The demon began to argue, and Yato cut him off by grabbing his throat. “Shut up, would you?” The god ignored the blight spreading down his arm, his hand darkening further; his skin was on fire. The demon scowled at him, gripping at his wrist. “So here’s what’s happening, A-ya. ‘Helplessness’ is your problem, right? But only if you think too hard on it!” The demon shoved one of his own hands to Yato’s throat, and the god choked. The high collar of his jersey couldn’t protect him anymore, the zipper undone. Blight spread to his neck, sinking through layers of spirit. He kept speaking anyway, their fingers pressed into each other’s throats.

“A-ya,” he got out, “it’s not about lack of ability, or lack of potential. It’s about lack of belief. Or maybe—the presence of it. You believe that’s the only result you can put out, so it becomes reality. But it’s your preconception that makes the deal—!”

“Doesn’t that mean…” said A-ya, his voice quiet, deadened, “…that I’m just as helpless? If I’m at fault.”

“That’s not—agh!”

Yato was shoved upwards by the throat, then thrown down, his back slamming into the misty ground. The demon was on him, one hand strangling, the other holding onto the hand Yato still had at the demon’s neck. The demon was sneering at him, eyes shining in glee. They glimmered golden despite the maintained visage of A-ya. Yato could feel the infection of blight spreading down to his collarbones and crawling up to his jawline.

“Listen,” he choked out. “If you really think you’re helpless when you’re capable of this much, you’ve gotta be nuts. ‘Helpless’ means you can’t do a thing, but you’ve managed huge feats in this game – you’re a power player, aren’t you?! You were hard to fight as the Dark-Clad Hero, you know, at least until the point where you doubted yourself—so take a step back and take a look at who you are, A-ya! Look at what’s going on around you! If you can manage to make this big of a mess, you can’t possibly be helpless!

Gaze averting further, A-ya shifted slightly. His raven hair blocked Yato’s view of his eyes. The demonic form of A-ya cackled gleefully. The demon was winning. Yato reflected that perhaps guilt-tripping him wasn’t going to help – not that he intended to make him feel guilty, it just came out that way. He set his jaw, grinding his teeth and trying to think of words while also trying to breathe beneath the vice of the demon’s grip.

“Being ‘helpless’ isn’t just about you, A-ya. To be helpless means, too, that you don’t have anything to support you anymore. It’s to be without the ones that keep you where you need to be. It’s to be alone. And you’ve managed this much…” Yato’s hand lowered from the demon’s throat, his eyes hazing. “But if you really feel alone, even now, there is nothing that can reach you. Even if you have everyone on your side, myself included… Ah, didn’t you have all those teammates? That’s my fault; I killed them. Even Izaya, I… But Yukiteru’s waiting for you, you know. Even if it’s only him believing in you out there, one person’s faith means more than you think, A-ya. But if you turn away, then you really are… helpless.”

Tentatively, A-ya lifted his head. He looked at Yato, his red eyes shining with dim hope and clouded with doubt and trepidation.

“Didn’t you hear me?” Yato asked weakly, his arms lying at either side of him. The demon had hesitated overtop him, looking over at his master. The blight inched its way up Yato’s cheeks, the dark infection threatening to swallow him up. “I’m here on Yukki’s wish. It’s a gamble coming here, y’know? Can’t tell on the outside whether you’re alive or dead anymore. You’re still solid, unlike this demon and I. Go on. You can still live – affirm your own existence.”

A-ya’s eyes widened – his lips parted, ready to speak. The weight on the god lifted as the demon returned to his master, appearing behind him and covering his mouth, holding tightly to him. “You could do nothing without me,” hissed the demon. “Without me, you really would be helpless – everything would have fallen apart, and you know it. Everything you’ve been able to do, you’ve done it with my help.”

“Aren’t you the very reason he’s helpless?” Yato turned his head to face them, still lying on his back. “What kind of paradox is that? How can you grant a wish like that?”

“He wants to go back to the beginning,” Saeru growled. “He proposed it himself. That is our common goal – we work towards it together.”

“If that’s what he wants,” said the god, sitting up slowly and cradling his throat, “then why do you have to cover his mouth?”

The demon’s eyes narrowed, frown etched into his features. He hesitated, then released A-ya.

A-ya was quiet at first. Then, “Even if it were something like that; a question of whether I’m dead or alive inside this vessel of mine… A tale like Schrodinger’s Cat. When really, it doesn’t matter whether the cat’s alive or dead, just like it doesn’t matter whether I’m alive or dead. It doesn’t even matter if Yukiteru is alive or dead, because death is nothing but an illusion here. This game… is fake. The end of the game is the end of us. All of our existences… whether it’s yours or mine, it doesn’t mean anything. It’s the same as not existing. If the game ends, then so do we. It’s the way this works. Nothing matters; it never did. It never will.”

“If it doesn’t matter, then why are you trying so hard?” Yato pressed, getting unsteadily to his feet. “Why do you want to reset, if it really doesn’t matter? Why put in the effort? Why exist? Or is it that you still have a will to live after all?”

“A will to live… I…”

As A-ya lowered his gaze again, Saeru’s sharp golden stare grew more intense. “Of course he does—we do. That’s the point – if we reset, we continue to exist. You understand, don’t you? The desire to exist?”

Yato chuckled drily. “I guess I do. But if the both of you really want to exist so bad, then doesn’t that nullify the ‘it doesn’t matter after all’ argument? A-ya, you’re contradicting yourself all over. Tell me… do you still long to be at Yukiteru’s side, or not? What about B-ko’s? And the other one, C-ta? Your teammates?”

The demon opened his mouth to speak, but it was A-ya that said, “I do.” He looked at the god again, his eyes so deeply saddened. “I’m helpless, you know. I can’t go on without them.”

“No one can go alone,” Yato assured him. “I told you… to be helpless is to lack the people who catch you when you fall. Nobody can keep walking on their own all the time, and there’s not a single pair of wings that won’t ever give out. And if you still feel the need to be at their side, you’re not too far gone.” He noted the bitter expression on the demon’s face, and continued, “You can say that nothing matters. After all, it’s humans that place meaning in anything. The only reason anything has purpose is because the humans make it so. That is… if you feel that something has meaning, then doesn’t that make it worth it? There are people waiting for you, A-ya. Isn’t that enough?”

Now close enough to do so, Yato held out his blighted hand to the boy. Could he at least save this young lost soul? A-ya stared, disbelieving, at his palm. Yato smiled. “See, kid? God’s still on your side.”

There was a heavy silence. The air was warm. The demon waited with bated breath, up into the point where A-ya began to raise his hand to the god. The demon swiftly pulled him backwards. “No. This is my little master; I won’t let you take him.” He clutched A-ya close to his chest, eyes flashing. Baring serpentine teeth, he hissed, “It’s you who deceive him now. It’s too late for any kind of happy ending. And besides, of any of my vessels… of any of my masters… A-ya still accepts me. He doesn’t want you, as if you think you’re so righteous. Hah! Doesn’t it make you the dirty one, trying to take him from me?”

“I won’t be taking him,” Yato said firmly. “I can’t free him, either. He has to do that on his own. All he has to do is take my hand – that’s his choice entirely. Unless you’re robbing him of free will?”

It’s his free will to have fallen in with me. He chose this! He chose me! He’s already made his choice, damn it, so leave us alone.

“A-ya?” Yato asked calmly.

“I’LL KILL YOU!” the demon screamed, digging fingers into A-ya’s shoulders, his eyes shining in the darkness circling them, serpentine tendrils wriggling around them and rising, heads to the sky, binding them together through the wish A-ya had made.

And A-ya, he laughed: a miserable, remorseful chuckle that bubbled up and fell flat in the humid atmosphere of his mindscape. “Oh, C-ta…” His eyes welled and spilled; his lip trembled and was still. “…or rather, Saeru… You’re—so helpless.”

What?” The demon froze, eyes wide, black slits swiveling downwards to stare at his master.

A-ya took Yato’s hand.

The demon’s image cracked. “No…”

Yato helped A-ya to his feet, then put his other hand at his shoulder, smiling apologetically at the kid. “I’m glad,” he said, but A-ya looked away. Yato released him, and stepped toward the demon, a dark fissure running through his form. The dark one took a step back, and another crack appeared. Yato’s smile became rueful. “You’re right, A-ya. This game is fake—otherwise, I may have been too selfish to even consider this. Don’t you know? There’s no such thing as a free wish.”

Enraged, Saeru came forward with a heated gust, latching onto Yato while the god caught his hands in his own, gripping tightly so the demon wouldn’t, couldn’t pull away. The blight spread. So did the demon’s cracks.

“A-ya! A-ya!” Saeru cried desperately.It’s fine; just make another wish! Make another one, right now! Hurry! Make one; any one – want to be by Observer’s side? I can do it! I’ll do it! I can!” A-ya put one foot behind the other, backing up from the swarming darkness and the crackling cerulean in front of him. “Say something, A-ya! Save me!

But A-ya had lost his words.

“I’m a selfish god, you know,” admitted Yato, holding tight, their palms pressed together. The darkness and light circled them both in a corrupted yet holy eddy of spiritual energy. “All I’d wanted… My deepest desire was simply to be at Yukine and Hiyori’s side. In this reality, it can’t be that way anymore. But I’m still existing somewhere, and in that place, I’m still with them. And everyone out there, they’ll remember me. Yukine, Yukiteru, Rika, Kaneki… even Izaya. And hey, I’ll always keep living as long as someone knows me.”

The crumbling visage of the demon widened his eyes. Saeru recalled A-ya inquiring him of his coming to be – the tale of the Clearing Eyes Snake. After that, what was it he had said? “When we reset, I want you to find me, and I want you to tell me that story again. Every time, so that there will eventually come a loop where I don’t forget it. Okay? Because legends never die – you’ll exist forever, no matter what happens.”

A fissure split Saeru’s chest. What was this pain?

“If I can project that broken dream onto someone else,” said Yato, “if this me can manage that much—maybe I can feel better about myself, somewhere, sometime. I have a wish, Saeru. I wish for A-ya to be at Yukki and Yukine’s side in my place.”

The demon began to shake his head, frantic. He began to glow. The blight of Yato spread, consuming him.

“This is it, Saeru.” He, Yato, was ever so slightly frightened. Remorseful, of course. Maybe a little apologetic. “You’re dying. It’s over.”

I don’t want to die.

A-ya staggered backwards, horrified. What was happening? Everything went white, then was swallowed in inky black. He heard the demon screaming, and covered his ears, squeezing his eyes shut.

Yato held onto the demon; felt his own body breaking away from him, crumbling away into oblivion with his only solace being that at least the demon was going the same way. His smile was gone. Could anyone really make up for everything they’d ever done? He guessed for him it didn’t matter. His senses left him; nothing left to see, feel, taste, touch, smell… All there was, his ‘self,’ thoughts swirling into the image of Hiyori. There was Yukine, smiling at him, and Izaya with his back turned.

Please… don’t forget about me.

And then, even the self was gone.

 

Chapter 106: Eight

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

 

The rain had slowed, the clouds breaking to reveal the sun’s tentative face. Light splotches dotted the torn road everyone waited on as sun rays found holes in the cloud cover. Konoha held A-ya’s body near the bakery, where Shintaro could have potentially been hanged not too much earlier that day. The NEET now stood between Rika and Izaya. Everyone was eerily quiet as they waited for the results of a battle they couldn’t see. Hanyuu hovered behind Rika, her hands to her mouth in nervous anticipation. Izaya still had his hand on the shoulder of Yukine, who’s fists were clenched at either side of him, his eyes desperate. Shintaro probably should have been weirded out by the fact that Yukine was around again, but according to his past route memories, it could have easily been as simple as Yato finding an items pillar.

Judging by Kaneki’s hurried explanation as he handed over Izaya for patching up, it seemed that Yato was acting on their side again. Yukine probably helped with that – it might have even been a part of Izaya’s plan all along, knowing him. But hey.

Kaneki was now standing between A-ya and everyone else, save for Konoha, who was holding onto the doubly-possessed one. The half-ghoul faced A-ya, ready to make a move if he woke up and the worst-case scenario had become reality: that is, A-ya was too far gone and now Yato was gone, too. It felt like long enough to wonder if the kid was dead, but he was still breathing, so something had to be going on.

On the other hand, Yukiteru knelt in the saturated asphalt, head bowed. No one dared break the silence to ask, but his cloak had faded away and into the kid’s original attire: green shorts, black turtleneck, boots, jacket and all. The only thing missing was his hat, wherever that had gone. He seemed so unthreatening now, kneeling there with his head bowed, looking hopeless, but Seidou remained on guard all the same, standing between Yukki and the rest of the group – Shintaro, Rika (and Hanyuu), Yukine, Izaya… Well, Shintaro assumed Seidou was on-guard, anyway. He looked pretty bored.

Yukiteru wasn’t the only one who’s garb had disappeared. A-ya, too, now only had on his black hoodie and red plaid pants he’d had at the very beginning of the game. At the stretch of concrete that he and Konoha were on, you could see the blood pooling around them. It wasn’t like Konoha was uninjured himself, and well, A-ya had taken a lot of heavy hits. Old wounds reopened, new wounds fresh, and not to mention, he was missing an arm that was now lying on the roof with Hide’s dead body.

But let’s not think about that part.

The point being, A-ya’s right arm was gone, and there was a lot of blood. Maybe it was better for him that his ‘Dark-Clad Hero’ outfit had faded, because apparently fabric damage didn’t cross over, and his hoodie was fine. Maybe it could help stop some of the bleeding? Eh, probably not, but it was worth the thought. I mean, unless this kid woke up with Kuroha still possessing him, in which case it would be totally okay for him to bleed out, right? Right?

It felt light outside again despite the gentle drizzle and the clouds still hanging overhead. Perfect weather for a rainbow – could so kind a picture be in a world like this?

A-ya stirred; Shintaro felt the atmosphere rise in tension. Yukiteru lifted his head, scrutinizing A-ya’s features. Who was the one waking up?

Kaneki approached him, kagune out and poised to attack. A-ya grimaced before opening his eyes, sitting up properly and clutching at his torn shoulder, pulling away from Konoha, who leaned against the wall of the bakery. Threateningly, Kaneki cracked his knuckle, and A-ya looked up with a jolt, eyes wide.

Yukiteru, lifting his face to his friend, was swathed in ebony as his cloak reappeared. “A-ya…?”

Yukine stepped forward, pulling away from Izaya. “Where’s Yato?

A-ya turned to look at Yukine, looking both shocked and confused. Slowly, he shook his head. Shintaro, Rika, and Izaya could see Yukine’s form welling with suppressed emotion. The spirit said nothing else. He opened his mouth to ask – what could he possibly mean? Yato couldn’t just be gone, right? …But he couldn’t make a sound.

Kaneki’s kagune appendages pointed ominously at A-ya’s vital points, and A-ya stared into the red weapons, speechless. “Do I need to kill you?” Kaneki asked coolly. “If Yato is gone, what does that mean?” His gaze was frighteningly intense, but A-ya did not shrink under it. “You have a lot of deaths to atone for.”

A-ya shifted his legs beneath himself, straightening to Kaneki’s accusation. His expression was despairing, a nervous smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Please…” he said, his voice so small, quavering lightly, “…kill me.”

Kaneki’s intimidating demeanor melted, and his shoulders fell. “What?”

“I said kill me.” He bent forward, putting his one bloodied palm on the concrete in front of him. “You want to, don’t you? So please…” He bowed his head. “I…”

Kaneki, taken aback, felt his kagune shriveling away. I can’t, he thought, staring at this kid. Was he still possessed? Had Yato succeeded after all? But even if the demon just hadn’t woken up yet, could Kaneki really…? He backed up, shaking his head. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

A-ya did not lift his head. Seidou began to growl. Yukiteru looked back at the other half-ghoul, eyes wide as they scrutinized what he could possibly be thinking. “Kaneki…” Seidou lowered his stance, looking ready to charge over to them. “Dumbass… If you won’t, then I will.”

“NO!”

Seidou and Yukiteru went for A-ya at the same time – blood spattered over the concrete as if it weren’t red enough already. A-ya lifted his head and saw Yukiteru’s back to him, his arms spread out to either side. Yukki was closer; he made it first.

Don’t—kill him…,” said Yukiteru, his hands lowering to Seidou’s arm, which was embedded in his gut.

Seidou bared his teeth and ripped his hand from Yukki’s torso, using his other to grasp his throat and lift him by the neck. “You little brat; you’re no better. You filthy traitor.”

“Please, let him go—!” started A-ya, but Seidou cut him off with a short, “Quiet!”

Seidou,” Kaneki spoke sternly. “Put him down. Now.

Seidou glared at the other half-ghoul disapprovingly. “Kaneki, he killed—

“I know.” His voice was filled with such pain. “Just drop him. Please.”

The other half-ghoul scowled, but dropped Yukiteru all the same. The cloaked one collapsed in a heap beside A-ya, who immediately went to him in all desperation.

“C’mon, Kaneki,” Seidou growled, gesturing to them. “Do you really think that we can trust them now? They’re the reason that Nagachika died, you know. You know that, right? What are you gonna do? You think I can’t see it? You’re not all selflessness and idealism. You don’t care about the big stuff – ‘humanity,’ or ‘justice.’ You only want the ones you care about to be okay. Wasn’t Nagachika the one you were living for? Huh?

“That’s…” Kaneki looked away.

Seidou turned on Yukki and A-ya, scowling. “Isn’t that right, you two? What happened to Nagachika?”

“Naga—chika…?” Yukiteru opened one blue eye, blood running down his chin. “Oh, Hide-kun? He’s nice… I think he must have heard me talking about what I was going to do. Not all of us could make it, you know… but Rika and Shintaro needed to. If either of them died, it wouldn’t work. So, Hide…” He smiled a glassy-eyed smile, made eerie by the blood coloring his lips and chin. “He saved me.” He laughed weakly. “Thanks, Hide.”

Kaneki brought a hand to his mouth, eyes overcast. He was filled with hurt and outrage that he was speaking of Hide as if he were disposable.

Seidou ground his teeth. “Why I oughtta…”

Guys.” It was Shintaro who amazingly spoke up here, crossing the gap between his clump of people and theirs with his voice. “Can we really be so accusatory? Well—can either of you, really? I don’t mean to be a jerk or anything, but… what did you just call him, Seidou? A filthy traitor?” he crossed his bandaged arms over his chest. “Can you really be so mad? You’ve had a second chance, haven’t you? What, so people are dead? Well, I mean…” He looked to Yukiteru and A-ya, who both just stared at him. “It’s not like we aren’t forgiving… right? What about what happened with Roppi?”

Seidou shrunk, looking dark but shameful. Kaneki closed his eyes.

“And come on, Kaneki… Look at what happened to Yato. He came around, too… and you gave him a chance just now, right? And besides…” Shintaro lowered his gaze. “…Hide did that willingly. He knew he was going to die in this fight. He talked to Rika and I about it beforehand. Because he knew… that he’d still be waiting when you made it out of this alive, Kaneki.”

“That is so!” Rika piped in, stepping up with the red-scarfed one. “Everyone that is left is only an antagonist due to the game itself. This far along, there is no more reason to fight.”

“But,” said Kaneki, “what of the demon? Is he extinguished?”

Hanyuu bowed her head, floating behind Rika. “The demon has perished,” she confirmed. “His energy and Yato’s both disappeared at the same time.”

“Then that means,” said Shintaro quietly, “that the kid…”

A-ya knelt beside Yukiteru, who lay on the ground, holding his own torso in pain as well as trying to staunch the bleeding. A-ya had struggled to get his black hoodie off, just barely managing to do so with one arm even though it hurt his socket of a shoulder like hell. He felt distantly, as if he were still disconnected from his own body. He still felt like a shell; the only thing he could feel was his heartbeat, the horrid throbbing of his torn shoulder in rhythm with it. Everything he saw was doused in vivid color, blurred through his watery vision.

He gave Yukki his hoodie, and he thought that the cloaked one smiled at him. All A-ya could hear outside of his head was ringing. All he could hear inside was himself. His mind was an ebony void, his own voice echoing in his ears, This is my fault. Yukiteru was hurt, and he…

…He’d tried to kill Yukiteru, hadn’t he? Just before Yato had joined in him in his head. A-ya felt a bitter taste in his mouth, mixed with the taste of iron, thick and asphyxiating. The words he’d said… he supposed he’d meant it. He tried to remember what it felt like, but all he could feel now was a strange, buzzing static.

A-ya looked down at himself, and his white collared button-up shirt stained deep carmine. His red plaid pants. The crimson staining the concrete, and the same color spreading around Yukiteru. His scarlet eyes wandering, lost, something caught his eye of the very same shade. A red-handled pair of scissors, the pair that had fallen from the pocket of Shintaro when he was dangled over the side of the bakery roof.

A-ya had left his own scissors with C-ta. He couldn’t even bear to look at them anymore, let alone use them. That was why he had initially kept C-ta’s boxcutter. But there they were – in his head, it was his own scissors lying there on the concrete, his vision swimming as he was drawn to them as if by a sense of morbid curiosity. He took them in his one hand; their silver blades were already stained. A-ya remembered how it felt to embed the blades of his scissors into C-ta’s neck – his childhood friend… He remembered the feeling of tearing into Roy Mustang; maiming Shirazu; offing Suzuya; slaying Akira…

He relived these memories in full color, and couldn’t help but smile at the potency of the emotion that swept over him. He recalled the crimson night of C-ta’s passing under the moon and the leaves… And he held his scissors, just like he’d done back then; and he smiled as he opened the blades proper and moved to slash sideways into his jugular and esophagus—

A hand was at his wrist, stopping him. His vision came back into focus, and there was Yukiteru just in front of him, sitting up now with his other arm pressing A-ya’s hoodie to his injury. “It’s okay, A-ya,” Yukiteru whispered, releasing the hoodie and putting his red-stained palm over the blades of the scissors. “Put it down.” They stared into one another, red eyes meeting blue.

Slowly, they lowered the scissors together. A-ya dropped them, and they clattered to the blood-soaked, rain-sodden concrete they knelt on.

“A-ya…” Yukiteru’s brow was furrowed, his orbs of azure shining in fear meshed with hope. “Is it really you? Are you really here? Are you back?”

A-ya opened his mouth, then closed it again. Incredulous, he gazed at the cloaked one, wide-eyed. “Hey, if you were to see… a shooting star now, what would you wish for?” he asked, voice cracking.

Yukiteru’s face broke into a relieved smile. “A-ya, I wouldn’t wish for anything at all. I have everything I need—I… I’m so glad…” Despite his wound, Yukki embraced A-ya fully, wrapping his arms tightly around and feeling the solidness of his back: he was no illusion. This was no dream.

A-ya had stiffened. His chest felt ready to burst, but he couldn’t tell whether this overwhelming emotion was a good one or bad one. He felt all this foreign feeling swelling – ah, it was as though his emotions had bloomed back into life after a drought – filling him and spilling over the bottom lids of his eyes. He felt the warm drops falling over his shoulder and knew that Yukiteru was crying, too. This epiphany only served to heighten his flood of feeling and, bringing his single arm around his friend, he let himself go, clinging onto the other. Together, they wept.

The sky opened up, revealing the blank blue face beyond. Orange-yellow sunrays made the rain-soaked city shimmer, making even grey aesthetically pleasing. Existence alone: that’s what monochrome means. Isn’t that what Twelve had told us? Existence without ‘love’… Was even this place always so colorful?

“Is it that you still want to reset?” asked Yukki.

A-ya didn’t know that he could put into words what it was he wanted right then. Reset? “No…” Did he want to die? Not really… He just didn’t want to feel so alone. So empty. To have someone here, someone he could feel… This moment, on its own… This was fine. If this could last, it was fine.

A-ya was held tighter. “That’s for the better. I told you,” Yukiteru said quietly, “I want the game to end… but I don’t want to make it there without you. This is fine, A-ya. I’d rather it be this way.” He pulled away just a bit, reaching into his cloak to pull out the cellphone he’d attained from the items pillar in the shopping district. “Here.” He pushed it to A-ya’s chest, and A-ya put his hand to it, looking at Yukki in a silent question. “I’ve been messaging someone. This person—he made it out. He’ll be meeting you soon.” The no-longer-possessed boy felt a sudden sinking feeling. His sight was still obscured by tears that dried slowly; he felt oddly weighted despite his lightheadedness, probably all to do with his excessive loss of blood. “You,” Yukki said to him, “can make it to the end, alright? I can’t make our future from here, so—from here on, you can. I have faith in you.” What sort of apologetic smile was that? What was he saying? A-ya felt the cold seeping sensation of dread. “So, in that future…” Yukiteru smiled a closed-eye smile. “…I’ll meet you there. Alright?”

A-ya felt a deep burning in his chest. Even now, how could he be this helpless? Couldn’t he stop one person from dying? Was death the only thing he was capable of causing? “Y…you…” A-ya couldn’t bring forth any words. This was the worst possible outcome he could come up with. Don’t leave me alone, he wanted to say, but no sound came out. I’d rather die. This is my fault. I did this.

I was the traitor here, after all. So why aren’t I the one dying?

What have I been doing, all this time? Trying to reset, is that it? Extend time here… because there’s nothing waiting for us at the very end, is there? Even if we go home, a moment like this would never happen again. Even if I were to have C-ta and B-ko back, isn’t it true that I would return to the same monotonous existence?

But even knowing that, how could I have been so foolish? The whole point of accepting Saeru’s offer—hadn’t I wanted to protect Yukiteru? Rika, Minene, Roy? My wish not to be helpless was really just a desire to be able to protect those people close to me. But even with Twelve or Suzuya, I didn’t do much at all. And how could I know what ‘protecting’ is supposed to be when my protector was the one who tried to kill me?

Yato was wrong after all, wasn’t he? How could he think I’m not helpless? Ah, though Twelve had said the same thing… And, Roy…

Yukiteru, who had been holding onto one of A-ya’s shoulders, sort of half-slumped, bringing his hand from A-ya’s shoulder to his torn-open abdomen. If Yukiteru dies, thought A-ya, then maybe I’d want to reset after all. Or else, die with him… With his only arm, A-ya took Yukiteru’s free hand. Wouldn’t that be fine, at this point? After everything he’d done… and everything they’d gone through… No, Yukiteru didn’t deserve this – the only reason he’d done anything so questionable was because he’d followed A-ya there, hadn’t he? But A-ya, on the contrary… he surely deserved to die. And if Yukki really had to go, then it was only right for him to follow right after him.

He squeezed Yukki’s hand, eyes brimming with regret. He recalled how it felt to cling to his hand on the rooftop, when the loneliness was drowning him and he had nothing but that to hold onto. It was beautiful, in a way: such a strong connection, if made through such dire circumstances. He had nothing to fall back on, now. His ears rung, and he couldn’t call upon the friendly, dark warmth that made up his subconscious… that is, there was no soothing voice of the demon, cooing as if in his ear. That heat, warming him from the inside, was no more.

But hadn’t that, too, been loneliness? Much like it had been with C-ta. And yet here was Yukiteru in front of him, the one who could prevent such inner isolation, slipping away so easily.

A-ya had a cruel revelation of the path he had been walking in comparison to the one he should have tread. From Yukiteru’s bloodied lips came the words, “I know that I’m being selfish. But if only one more person is needed, I want—you… still… to make it.”

The previously possessed boy felt as though he’d been slapped square in the face. He furrowed his brow, eyes narrowing. There was no way he could let this happen. If Roy was right… if Twelve was… and Yato… If helplessness could also be negated by the ones who stood on your side, and Yukki truly supported him… Yato, a god, had given away his existence for him – didn’t that mean anything? He shook his head. “That’s—just horrible,” he said.

“What?”

A-ya raised his voice. “Hey, to the ones gathered over there – are you going to help out or not?” Everyone’s discussion came to a halt, their attention shifted immediately to A-ya and Yukiteru. “You,” – he eyed Shintaro – “…you have a medical bag. Can’t you do something?”

Shintaro gave him a pained look. “I—”

“Rika,” A-ya continued, “you’re with Yukiteru, aren’t you? You know why he did what he did.”

She closed her eyes. “That is so…”

“A-ya,” said Yukki weakly, “stop. Really, you don’t understand.”

“I can vouch for Yukki’s actions, no matter how horrid,” said Izaya, expression guarded as he looked upon A-ya. “I could vouch for you, too… A-ya-kun.”

A-ya blinked. This person… the one who claimed to be his teammate, back in the woods? Yeah, right after Twelve and Suzuya had perished. What had he said his name was?

“But also…” Izaya closed his eyes. “We have nine left, don’t we?”

Seidou ran a hand through his white hair. “Get it yet? Apparently, only eight make it.”

“Which means,” said Kaneki soberly, “one of us, still…”

“Wait…,” Shintaro said quietly, eyes wide. Something was wrong.

“You can’t tell me you’ll just let him die,” A-ya pressed, eyes wide. “That’s exactly the kind of thing—the game masters…”

“You’ve been following their preaching for some time, now, A-ya-kun,” Izaya said, eyes averted. “Right though you are, there, there are certain rules that can’t be bypassed, after all.”

“We could kill the demon kid instead,” suggested Seidou, and Kaneki brought a hand to his chin, eyes shrouded.

“I want to listen to you,” said Yukine firmly, looking at A-ya. They stared at one another, and A-ya felt a shiver down his spine.

Who was this guy, again? Someone who hadn’t been around for awhile; Yato’s first weapon, right? A spirit? That is, a ghost, A-ya thought. His mind flitted over the thought that he was the same kind of anomaly, having died himself. But now wasn’t the time to make those sorts of connections with people.

Yukine continued, “After all… Yato seems to have—died for you.” The spirit’s expression was hard, his jaw set. “And for someone like him to have done that for anyone… He had to have really put a lot of—faith in you. So…”

A-ya’s voice quieted, his words tentative. “Are you Yukine?”

The spirit straightened. “I—am.”

He averted his scarlet eyes. “Yato… he said that all he’d really wanted was to be at your side… with someone else – Hiyori?”

Yukine’s eyes widened just slightly, and he nodded.

“Because he’d said something like ‘it’s impossible now,’ he… He made a wish on the demon: for me… to have the opportunity to be at Yukiteru’s side… and, yours.” A-ya looked at him, and Yukine blinked. “So, if you’re on my side, if you’re on our side, then please…”

Yukine opened his mouth, closed it, and started forward to help. Izaya took him by the shoulder again, and Yukine jerked away. “Izaya, what’s your problem?” he frowned, turning on the informant.

Izaya remained impassive. Yukine remembered how much he hated the fact he couldn’t see behind Izaya’s eyes.

“I-if there needs to be only eight,” said Hanyuu worriedly, “what if… what if one more really does need to die? I don’t want that… I don’t want it!”

“This is seriously a condition?” Yukine cried. “That isn’t fair!”

“If one more needs to die, just let ‘em die!” huffed Seidou.

“Seidou, please…,” said Kaneki lowly, bringing his hand to his forehead.

“Rika-chan, do you know the answer to this cruel riddle?” inquired Izaya, looking at the ten-year-old meaningfully.

Everyone else looked to her – even Yukiteru had turned his head, looking rather miserable. A-ya’s expression was imploring, and she remembered walking back to camp with him the night that Roy Mustang had died. She remembered kneeling in the grass nearby Yukiteru as they shared their sorrows, the building holding Minene and Celty’s bodies burning behind them in the rain.

Gradually, Rika began shaking her head. “I… don’t know. I don’t. I don’t want anyone else… to…” She began to feel the old panic blossoming in her chest, the realization they were close, so close to an ending, and if a mistake were made here, it would have all been for nothing, nothing at all. And then… “I don’t want to start over again. I can’t do it again. I can’t. I just—I just want it to end. It needs to end. I don’t know what the right answer is.”

“If only eight can make it,” Yukiteru got out, his esophagus coated in a layer of blood that made him feel nauseous, “then one of us has to die.”

“It is… true,” admitted Kaneki, bowing his head.

“I…” Shintaro couldn’t form a sentence; he was rooted in place and he couldn’t feel his own mouth. “No…”

“This is horrible!” snapped Yukine. “Haven’t we all lost enough? Who said there has to be eight, anyway?!”

“The game masters,” Yukiteru answered hollowly.

“If one of us has to die,” A-ya said, “it can’t be Yukiteru.”

“It may not be entirely our choice,” said Kaneki.

I don’t care,” he spoke firmly. “An ending without him doesn’t make any sense at all! If we follow what we’re expected to—it shouldn’t mean that he…!”

Yukiteru looked so tired. “A-ya…”

He shook his head. “He’s been working towards the end of the game all this time, so… And—if the true ending is really one where Yukiteru doesn’t make it, then I’d—”

“Calm down, kid,” came a low, smooth voice from behind him, and he froze, horrified. Everyone besides the two nestled there in their own blood shifted into offensive or defensive stances, save for Shintaro. He just backed up, wide-eyed. Kaneki and Seidou both lowered their stances for fighting; Yukine raised his hand in the form of a halberd, teeth gritted; Izaya brought his hand to the hilt of the Prophet; and Rika shifted her position into a defensive stance.

Just behind A-ya, someone had revealed themselves: a man in his thirties, head shaved bald. His mouth twisted, stretching his goatee. Rika’s eyes widened as Hanyuu gasped – only they knew this face. Smirking cruelly, he raised his hands in a show of peace. “I wouldn’t go tryin’ to kill me just yet,” he said. He nodded his head to Rika, who merely stared.

“This is a game master,” she announced, and the tension doubled even though Seidou piped up with a, “Yeah, we kinda figured.

“Yeah, I’m a game master,” the game master confirmed anyway. Bringing an arm over his abdomen, he bowed formally. “You may call me Durden.” Then he straightened back up again, eyes shining violet. “Now, no more arguing. I think I’ve let this go on long enough.” He paused to allow himself a snicker. “A-ya, chill. Yukki, stop. And both of you—stop being freaking suicidal. You don’t need to die—Jesus!”

Yukiteru stared at him, dumbfounded. “But I…”

“Oh, suck it up,” Durden waved him off. “You don’t need all that gutsy stuff inside ya. Do y’all get it yet?” He looked around at everyone else. “There’s already eight of you.” Backing up a few paces, he leaned over and lifted Konoha’s head by his white locks. “Muse claimed authority over the decision of whether Saeru’s demise ended Konoha too. They figured—hey, the only reason Saeru was alive was because Konoha was the one revived. I thought it was bull, but who sticks around and who doesn’t isn’t part of my jurisdiction.”

Durden released the android’s bangs, nudging at his apparently lifeless body with his shoe and causing him to fall onto his side.

Shintaro put a hand over his mouth, looking away. He seemed paler than usual.

“Konoha,” murmured Kaneki, looking lost.

“What happens if one of us dies now?” asked Yukine seriously, but Durden shook his head.

“I set up my own mechanism. Now that there’s eight, none of you can die of causes like that. If one of you decides to be an asshole and kill somebody else – yeah, they die. But I’ve already slowed the bleeding of your shoulder, A-ya; and Yukki, your belly should be all held up for now. If I’d left it alone, your insides would be—well, outside of you. Get it? Neither of you are dying of blood loss, and Izaya isn’t going to die ‘cause of complications with his broken ribs.”

Izaya’s eyes narrowed a bit. “Hah?”

“I mean,” Durden continued, spreading his arms, “I’d still say it’s a good idea to patch these kids up, because you’ve still got a few hurdles to overcome…”

“What do you mean?” asked Shintaro weakly.

“What, you think that winning is that easy?”

The eight of them (nine, I guess, including Hanyuu) looked at one another, perhaps wondering what about this had been easy.

“But for now…” Durden’s mouth twisted wryly, and he raised a fist to the sky. “The winners are declared! Rika Furude, Shintaro Kisaragi, Ken Kaneki, Seidou Takizawa, Izaya Orihara, Yukiteru Amano, Yukine, and A-ya, you’ve made it to the end.” He beamed at them all, no less conniving. “Good job. How does it feel?”

“I kinda feel like crying, to be honest,” said Shintaro.

“I feel like ripping out your throat,” said Seidou.

“Seidou,” said Shintaro quickly, “I don’t think that’s a good idea—”

Durden laughed heartily. “That would be hilarious! Yeah—uh, no, I don’t think you wanna do that.”

“What are we supposed to do from here, then, huh?” demanded Yukine, amber eyes narrowed and focused on the game master.

“The tower,” said A-ya softly. “And the other masters…”

Shintaro thinned his lips for a moment before uttering, “Muse.”

“It’s about time we get to the bottom of this,” said Rika, Hanyuu nodding vigorously behind her.

Ever smirking, Durden folded his large arms over his chest. “What you need to do,” he said, “is you need to find the passage to the tower. The good news is it’s right nearby. The bad news is it’s in the morgue of the hospital.”

Everyone looked to Izaya, who had kinda-sorta blown the hospital up. He just smiled thinly and shrugged.

“I know none of you wanna listen to me,” Durden continued, eyeing Seidou in particular, “but please—I can make things a hell of a lot easier if you just listen.”

“But what guarantees honesty?” uttered A-ya, looking up at the game master. “Is it that you want the game to end, or are you just working your way towards reset?”

Durden showed his teeth smirking this time. “In this world,” he sneered, “there are only things that sound like lies, and things that sound like truths. Right, kid?”

A-ya’s eyes narrowed. Izaya snickered drily, and A-ya shot him a glance.

“Whether this guy is for the game or not,” Shintaro said slowly, “it could be, you know, his job to tell us all this. What I mean is… uh…”

Kaneki picked up the explanation for him. “If he sends us on a pointless scavenger hunt, it wouldn’t be very fun to watch. There’s no reason for him to lie, so at least about the basic things like that, we should believe him.”

“As for whether he’s for the game…” Yukiteru tilted his head, thoughtful. “I mean, he says he set up that we can’t die now…”

“He’s probably sick of resetting,” said Rika.

“I don’t think that’s it,” said Izaya, peering into Durden. “Perhaps it’s less that he’s tired about that, and more that he’s excited to see what could happen next.”

Durden gave a half-laugh. “Yeah, pretty much. Hah… You’re great, Izaya. I dunno whether to be happy you can understand me, or pissed off.” Shaking his head, he continued, “But really, the entrance is in the morgue behind one of the wall panels. With the team you have, you should be able to reach it despite the debris. Just follow the tunnel behind there, and you’ll be set. Greyson and Rainbow will give you the rundown from that point. I’m not supposed to give any more than that.”

“Ah, wait—agh…” Irritable, Seidou ran a hand through his hair. “Then… Durden, Greyson, Rainbow—who all are we dealing with? Can we ask that?”

“There’s Aureus,” A-ya said flatly, and Yukki shot him a look. A-ya shrugged. “At this point, should it be a secret?”

“I met him too,” said Shintaro, who laughed timidly.

“Well… There are seven we know about,” said Yukiteru, voice weak. He cleared his throat, speaking more fully: “There’s the three Seidou just said, then Aureus and Rodd… Seraph, and—Muse.”

“Muse being the leader,” added Shintaro.

“Is that all correct?” inquired Yukiteru of Durden.

“Sounds right to me.”

“There are seven game masters,” murmured Rika.

“Uuu, how do we deal with that?” asked Hanyuu, on the verge of wailing her signature wail.

“Not all of them are on the side of Muse,” Shintaro pointed out.

“So, some of them might be fighting with us?” asked Yukine.

“Will we necessarily be fighting them?” asked the hikkiNEET, nervous.

“I hope so,” frowned Seidou. “So what’re you, Durden? Our side? Or not?”

“No need to sound so accusatory,” said Durden, humored. “I prefer to say ‘neutral.’”

Izaya crossed his arms loosely. “Neutral… Alright, well. I don’t believe there are seven masters anyway,” he added. “I don’t suppose there’s an eighth, Durden?”

Durden raised his eyebrows. “Could be. Maybe not.” He shrugged.

“What’re we up against?” asked Seidou. “So seven, maybe eight game masters – what can they do?

“There was Aureus: symbolism,” said Yukiteru. He began counting them off on his fingers. “And then Rodd, the timekeeper… Rainbow and Greyson are the bonds of the heart, or something like that… Seraph was ‘depth,’ I think…”

“How do you know all that?” asked A-ya, staring at him.

“Uh…”

“That kid told you a lot, huh?” asked Durden, who laughed heartily. Yukiteru’s eyes rounded, as if he’d been caught in the act of something childishly horrid, like sneaking a lick of brownie batter off of the spoon. “He really gives away a lot. You shouldn’t worry too much; for a prisoner, he was treated pretty well. Rainbow decided they’d keep him as a pet. It was Rain who let ‘im out, too, so he’ll meet up with you guys soon.”

“Wait, who?” Yukine looked so lost.

“The cellphone?” Izaya inquired in an undertone, mostly to himself. Yukine looked up at Izaya, perhaps hoping for an answer in his distant expression.

“Who was kept prisoner?” demanded Rika.

Seidou silently ground his teeth together while Shintaro took a step towards the half-ghoul, hoping to keep him calm. “I’m glad they’re out?” the hikkiNEET said, and tittered. “Who was imprisoned, anyway?”

“Does anyone actually know what the fuck he’s talking about?” scowled Seidou.

“I know not what this could mean,” said Hanyuu faintly.

“Durden,” said Kaneki. The game master looked at him. “You… Aren’t you the game master that Saiko had described to me? You… were at Touka’s bedside right before…”

The bald one turned to Kaneki properly, scratching at his beard. “That scene sucked,” he admitted.

The half-ghoul’s expression did not change. “You claim to be neutral… Durden, who are you? What is the part you play?”

“Well… I guess I can tell you that, huh?” He quirked an eyebrow. “I did reveal myself, didn’t I? Hm. Since you’re so curious, Kaneki, I’d love to humor you.” He held his hands out to either side. “I am plot – preparation, convenience, and lack thereof. Every creator for any tale has to play the game ‘Can You?’, you know. I am the epitome of that game. I am what makes each of you understandable. I’m what makes you possible. I’m the scientific jargon that explains a sci-fi techno gadget, but also the simple defect that fucks it all up. That’s what I am.”

“If that’s the case,” said Izaya coolly, “then what part is it that you play in this game?”

“Oh, here?” Durden chuckled. “Well, I didn’t come up with it, if that’s what you think.”

“Muse?” guessed Shintaro.

“No,” said the master. “Seraph.” He paused. “She’s one of the ones on your side, by the way. Isn’t that ironic? But, no… Me, I just stir the pot. I set up items pillars, place the ammo, leave out food sources… I set up the barrier that makes up the dome. I set up rules… I, ah, also have control of the weather. How badass is that?”

“Hey, um…” Shintaro wrung his wrists, looking nervously to the bald game master. “Durden, if that’s what we’re up against… Well, what I mean is…”

“You don’t wanna kill any of the game masters,” Durden confirmed, not waiting for him to finish. “You’ve got the right idea. In the end, I’m merely transparent…” His violet eyes clouded, but covered it up with a smile. “We’re all nothing but concepts – you can’t just kill us. Even if one of you were to rip my heart from my chest right now, there would no longer be any plot to this story, right? Suddenly: why are any of you here? There is no game. There is no point, no rhyme or reason for anything at all. All things are aimless… But if even one of you snapped out of it and said, ‘Hey, maybe we should go to that tower,’ you’ve suddenly got a plot back. I come back to life, and then it’s like you never killed me.” He shrugged. “Kill symbolism, and everything loses meaning. Everything’s meaningless – talk about rotten nihilism. But as long as people exist, there will be meaning perceived somewhere… And then: bam, Aureus is alive and kicking. You see what I’m saying?”

Seidou took a step forward. “But wait, what the hell are we expected to do, then? If we can’t kill the game masters that dragged us into this bullshit, what’s the point of going into the tower?”

“Uh, the prize at the end?” Durden suggested with raised eyebrows. “Duh?”

“Will we be sent home?” asked Shintaro weakly. A-ya looked to Yukiteru with fear, but Yukki only looked, stone-faced, up into Durden’s sly visage.

“Will those that have perished be waiting for us?” asked Rika.

“Will anything be waiting for us at all?” asked Izaya, voice low.

“Or…” Kaneki closed his eyes, “…will everything that happened here be erased?”

“What sort of prize are we gonna find, here?” asked Seidou suspiciously.

“Yeah,” agreed Yukine. “How do we know what we’re gonna get is anything we want, anyway?”

“Look,” said Durden, “you guys are gonna have to go and find that out on your own. I’ll meet up with you sometime, once you’re a ways into the tower.” He flashed a smug grin. “’Til then, I’m done here.”

“Hey, wait—” began Yukki, but Durden merely said, “Heavy metal,” and disappeared.

The eight remaining (plus Hanyuu) fell into silence. They looked at one another, unable to find words to bridge the gaps between them all. It was Shintaro that spoke up: “I guess I’ll… tend to Yukiteru and A-ya.” The invisible tension, somehow, was suddenly alleviated.

“Good idea,” said Kaneki. Everyone seemed to be breathing again. The reality hadn’t yet sunk in. Was it really the end of the battle royal? After ten days, could it really be here: the end? So close?

Izaya limped over to the bakery just nearby A-ya and Yukki as Shintaro went over and knelt to tend to them. Yukine followed after him, even though the informant refused help. “I think, from here…” said Shintaro, “…it’s best to gather our bearings. Everyone should get to know everyone – we’re on the final stretch; no use messing up now.”

“It would be best,” agreed Rika.

A-ya bowed his head, listening to the one named Shintaro asking Yukiteru where he needed to be tended to. “A-ya,” said Yukki, and he looked up to see his smiling face. Shintaro was looking at him too, with an absurdly apologetic look. “We made it.”

“Yeah.”

“More or less,” grumbled Seidou, standing with arms crossed just behind Shintaro.

“All of us did,” said Kaneki quietly.

Yukine looked up and to the tower looming over them from a few blocks away. “Only a little left to go.”

Rika closed her eyes as Hanyuu folded fingers tightly together. “The end,” Rika said, “may be finally upon us, after all.”


“The end… huh?” Little Anna slowed her kicking feet from her seated perch atop the mausoleum in the graveyard. She brushed her light brown hair from her face, looking up to the sun peeking out from behind clouds. Lowering her eyes, she looked down to the nameless graves.

Pushing herself forward with her palms, she slipped from the roof of the mausoleum and to the steps below. She landed gracefully, arms spread out to either side – she raised them as if she were a young gymnast sticking a landing. She lowered them slowly, then, looking beyond to the metal gates waiting on the other side of the graveyard.

“I’ve been waiting so long…” Smiling childishly, she began walking forward with a spring in her step. Her eyes bright, she sparkled with excitement. “I think it’s about time for me to have a chance to play too.”

 

Notes:

Eight survivors have made it to the 'end' of the game. If you have read this far, I thank you for your participation in these Emina Games! We've made it to the final stretch!

Chapter 107: Breakthrough

Chapter Text

 

“Everyone patched up?”

“I think so, Kaneki,” muttered Seidou, rubbing at his forehead. “The best this loser can, anyway…”

Shintaro, the loser patching everyone up, looked at him with a frown. “Hey.”

“He’s doing fine,” said Kaneki, casting an assuring glance to Shintaro. He then turned to the youngest of the group. “Rika-chan, is something wrong?”

She seemed to snap from some deep thinking, shaking her head. “I am fine. I am just disbelieving of our close proximity to an ending.” She paused, delicately brushing a strand of hair from her face. “That is, the possibility of it. We can’t be entirely sure…”

“You’re scared,” Shintaro said quietly, and she looked at him. He smiled awkwardly, brow furrowed. “Because you’re daring to hope.”

“Hope hurts,” Seidou said bluntly.

“It’s not hope that hurts you,” said Hanyuu, and Seidou frowned at the goddess. “It is the despair that follows.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he uttered, and she stared at him in alarm at the foul language.

“Seidou,” Shintaro sighed, “she’s a goddess. Isn’t that ‘blasphemy’?”

“You think I care?”

Kaneki looked to the tower, wordless. He would not speak aloud that hope was something he couldn’t fathom right now. But he would go on until the end, if only because there was nothing else to do.

A-ya, Yukiteru, and Yukine had formed a tight clump. Yukine had approached them and crouched at their sides, partly needing answers, partly needing to reach out. Izaya remained leaning on the wall nearby, listening to them.

Yukine had already had his proper introduction to the group while Shintaro was going around tending to everyone with Kaneki’s help. So now, he spoke with the two whom Yato had perished for.

“Thank you very much, by the way,” said Yukiteru to the spirit. “Yato—I owe him a lot.” He averted his eyes. “I feel kinda bad for yelling at him, last chance I had… But I had no idea what he was doing.”

Yukine shook his head. “I didn’t know either.” He frowned with some irritation. “He’s insanely reckless. Kind of idiotic.” He paused, lowering his head. “But he… was selfish, too. He’d do anything to stay alive, so…”

“I’m sorry,” A-ya said flatly.

“I don’t want your apologies,” said Yukine. “I’m upset, but not with you. I’m mad at Yato, but… You know, he preached horrible things like ‘if someone kills themselves, there’s no helping them.’ ‘If someone’s possessed, there is no saving them.’ That kind of thing, you know? So I think it’s better if… I try and understand what changed that… and why he did what he did. I’m not accusing you of anything wrong, but what I’m saying is that you have to have been someone pretty special for him to do that.”

A-ya averted is eyes. “I don’t know why he did.”

“Well,” offered Yukiteru, “you did say that all Yato said he wanted was to be by Yukine’s side… and that you should be by mine and his instead, right?”

“So?” asked A-ya.

Yukine’s eyes narrowed, staring at the ground. “I wouldn’t be all too surprised if Yato felt that guilty.”

“I’ll bet,” said Yukiteru, “that he wanted to feel like he did at least one thing right. Doing something like that—saving A-ya like he did—I mean, I don’t know a lot, but I’d pray to a god like that.”

Yukine looked at Yukiteru, who smiled at him. “I guess he is a god of fortune, huh?” the Shinki said weakly. “I want to be so mad at him for it… but I won’t. I won’t.”

Izaya spoke up, here: “Why not?”

Yukine looked at him. “What?”

“Why not? It won’t affect your master if you have some negative emotions now,” Izaya shrugged. “You’ll grieve how you will.”

He shook his head. “You don’t understand. I just…” The spirit lowered his head again, hiding his eyes. “I just can’t stand the thought of him… gone. That’s all.”

Izaya watched the pavement below Yukine’s obscured visage, blinking as he caught a glimpse of his tears as they fell. He’d thought to speak, but fell silent. He had nothing to say. It wasn’t like he didn’t feel similarly. Yato had become a rival to Izaya. It was hard to lose such a solid, deep-rooted enemy, one who had shattered his existence and made him out to be a fool.

No, that was wrong. Yato had been something more complicated than an enemy or a rival. A dastardly thing, that.

Yato was a horrible thing to Izaya called ‘friend.’

Yukiteru tried to comfort Yukine. “I think…” Yukki hesitated, thought about it, and continued. “I think Yato felt the same about you, while you were gone. When my group tried to take him in… I got to talk to him a lot. I’d decided he was a really nice person, you know. He granted a wish of mine for free.”

“For—free?” Yukine, wiping quickly at his face, looked to the other incredulously. “Free? Yato would never.”

Yukiteru stared blankly. “Is it that big a deal?”

“There’s no such thing as a free wish,” A-ya came in dully. “He said that. The price for your wish was his pride. The price for mine was him.”

Yukine stared at A-ya, speechless. He felt proud, he thought, but mostly very sad.

“Mm…” Yukiteru touched his chin. “Well, I’d like to say that I helped Yato’s character develop, but I don’t think that’s quite it. It wasn’t me, and it wasn’t A-ya, either. Even when we had him as a teammate, it is true he was most responsive to me, and he did go and say he’d grant my wish to be at A-ya’s side… And when he killed my group, he avoided me and Rika.”

“He…” Yukine drew his lips into a thin line, refraining.

“When you destroyed the forest, Yukiteru,” said A-ya, “I found him. He said your name, so I brought him to a safe place instead of killing him.” He glanced at the spirit. “You know… ‘Yukki.’”

“‘Yuki’… Huh.” Yukine’s amber eyes were filled with a beautiful kind of pain.

“But that’s just it,” said Yukiteru. “Even though I’d influenced him that much—and leading up to what just happened here—I’d be willing to claim that it was less about me and more about you, Yukine. It’s like Izaya would say, like… it wouldn’t matter who was the one he clung to, as long as it reminded him of you.”

Izaya looked over again with comical surprise. “Hah?”

“I…” Yukine was hesitant. “I don’t know that it’s really…”

“You were his future, kinda, if that makes sense,” said Yukiteru brightly.

“That other girl must have made him regress,” commented A-ya. He was really taking on that monotone again pretty fast. “You were her opposite, and therefore his saving grace. Like an angel? No, you’re a spirit—that’s too much. But the point is that he was able to develop because of you. You were that kind of person to him.”

“I… thank you, I think.”

“Speaking of which, I couldn’t say it yet…” A-ya stared into Yukine, who furrowed his brow. “You’re a spirit… I find that exciting. I’ve always wanted to meet one of the dead.”

“Please don’t say it like that,” Yukine said uncomfortably. “Especially having apparently died in-game.”

“So have I,” A-ya said immediately, and began to smile – a faint, eerie sort of smile.

“Uh…”

“A-ya,” Yukiteru frowned disapprovingly, and A-ya stopped the smiling, bringing a hand to his chin and averting his red eyes.

“That is… Yukine, I’m honored to share such an abnormal experience with you,” said A-ya.

Yukine didn’t even know what to say. What sort of honor was that?

“Especially knowing that you’ve been a spirit all this time… I wasn’t kidding. I’m into the occult – to even interact with a spirit is something beyond amazing. What’s it like?”

“It’s really, uh…” Yukine awkwardly scratched at the back of his head. This was getting more and more weird. “It’s not all that it’s cut out to be, being a spirit…”

“A-ya, be more polite,” Yukki cried. “What if he doesn’t like talking about it?” He looked to the Shinki. “Though it is pretty cool – I’m glad you’re not scary at all.”

“Wh—”

“But hey, since all of us are here, and we all made it—Yukine, do you think we all could be friends?”

The Shinki stared in disbelief. Was it normal to ask like that? “I…” He thought about the horrible agony of knowing his life was over – he could not attend school. He could not grow older, reach milestones, live life. He could not be seen by the living, save for a few exceptions. He remembered his potent longing to have friends his age. “I mean…” He looked away, drawing his lips together as he fought to keep composure. “I guess that would be fine.”

“Wow, how great!” Yukki cried.

A-ya watched Yukiteru’s exuberance at having collected another friend, and Yukine’s allowance of bittersweet happiness giving way on his stubborn visage. A-ya watched them, thinking to himself that he should probably feel good too. Thinking that he should be relieved that Yukine would forgive them for dragging Yato to his demise. Really, all he could perceive was the nagging thought that he shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t have made it. He shouldn’t have been a winner, with Yukiteru or not. A-ya had gone down the wrong path, and as an antagonist, he should have perished. Had he truly been redeemed last-minute? This felt so wrong.

And everyone seemed to be so forgiving, grudgingly or not. Even Seidou couldn’t say anything anymore because he knew how similar they were. But how similar were they, really?

Kaneki still looked at him with warmth despite the blood on his hands.

A-ya had tried to kill Rika and Shintaro both, but Rika seemed all too understanding of the whole ordeal, and Hanyuu treated him like he was an old friend. Shintaro seemed apologetic, for whatever reason, and that only succeeded in making A-ya feel worse.

Yukiteru insisted that everything was alright between them now, despite all the conflict in between. Yes, there had been a time where he’d been angry at A-ya, and there had been times of doubt, too. He admitted that. But ultimately he couldn’t remain angry for all too long, and after all, A-ya was his first friend!

And what was that supposed to mean? A-ya dared not dwell too long on just how much of what Yukki had said and done was an act. He dared not think too much on their embrace, and the knife to the back that came with it. He dared not admit to himself that he might wish for something greater than friendship—especially not when he suspected that it was just a displaced emotion once reserved for C-ta. It was true that this confusion bothered A-ya, but what was he going to do about it? Did it really matter? No.

More consuming was his unshakeable feeling of being out of place. I shouldn’t have won this game, he thought. I should be dead.

Would the game reset if he died now? Since the game needed eight ‘winners’?

But there was Yukiteru, just beside him. He didn’t want to die, he just felt… guilty. That was it, he felt guilty.

What was the point of feeling guilty now? What’s done was done, and come the end, if he was right, there was every possibility of all of this being erased – including his sins. Roy, Suzuya, Akira, Shirazu, Hide… They could well be alive, and so could C-ta, B-ko, Twelve…

Even Yukiteru had come to the conclusion that who died in this game didn’t matter as long as it wasn’t the two anchors that needed to make it: that is, Rika and Shintaro. Yukki had even gone so far as to kill someone out of that very logic. He only wanted to end the game, and people needed to die in order for it to reach its conclusion, that was all. So why should A-ya feel bad?

That’s right, why should he?

Everyone else had accepted the fact that he was one of ‘the eight,’ so why couldn’t he accept it himself? He heard talk about being puppeteered by the game masters – and weren’t all of his mistakes just that? He had preached in the beginning exactly what it took to end this game, and so what happened? He was thrown to the abyss of his own mind, and had been approached by an enticing offer at just the right time—just the wrong time. Something told him that the masters of this game—if they really wanted reset too, wouldn’t it be an obvious choice to nudge A-ya in that direction? It made just the right amount of conflict, and A-ya had been so close to enlightenment! Hadn’t he?

This didn’t change his deep sense of guilt, but it made sense, and if nothing else, this was able to give him some slight assurance. Validation.

Closing his eyes, A-ya thought to himself that he was not alone, no matter how lonely he felt. He was not helpless, no matter how helpless he felt. He was not evil… well, maybe a little bit. But Yukiteru was evil too. Everyone was.

If he had made it to the end, he would trudge on with everyone else and make it to the tower. And he would climb. He, with the seven around him, would make it to the top, and he would claim his prize because he made it.

Yato was right. He couldn’t be ‘helpless’ if he’d come this far. He’d made too large a mess to be considered incompetent. It was his mess, so he should be proud of it. Right? Something like that.

A-ya had been possessed, and had come back from it – not unscathed by any means, but he was alive, and he still had a soul. He’d died once and come back. What’s more, he made it here, to the end. Not only had he cooperated with a demon and formed a bond with him, had accepted him and earned respect… but he had also earned the faith of a god somehow or another. He’d witnessed the impossible more than once, and he’d managed the impossible, too. Now! Did that seem like a lie, or a truth?

His clothes became the attire of the Dark-Clad Hero, but he barely noticed the shift. His shirtsleeve was rolled up (the other disintegrating because he’d kinda ripped off the sleeve when he’d ripped off his arm) and he regained a black vest and red tie. No cape anymore. Somehow, his cat ears were still lacking. Maybe that was a mark of his naïveté that he could never get back.

He heard his name, and opened his eyes again. He felt so tired, but also determined. Maybe ‘fed up’ was a good term? He’d been misled, but he knew the ‘truth’ of this game just as he ever did. He began anticipating their entry into the tower.

“That’s right,” said Yukiteru, “A-ya, have you met Izaya yet?” He paused, glancing up at Izaya. “I mean… uh, re-met.”

Yukine tilted his head. “I actually can’t say whether either of you were all that close to him before Yato severed his ties, just because it must have happened after I… uh, died.”

“I sort of met him,” said A-ya, looking lopsidedly over to Izaya, who averted his eyes.

“I’ll apologize for that encounter,” Izaya said, sounding more bitter than apologetic. “Yukine-kun, you see… A-ya-kun was the first to interact with me after Yato did that. I didn’t know what he’d done yet, so… well.” He shrugged.

“Right,” Yukine nodded. “What happened?”

“I’m not talking about it,” Izaya said flatly, and Yukine blinked.

“Right, well, I’m not all too sure, but maybe it’s better you forgot all about him,” he said to A-ya and Yukiteru.

“I think I’d like to remember him,” Yukki said, and Izaya laughed mirthlessly.

“Tragic, really,” the informant said, mocking his own circumstance. “But that’s what makes it comedic, right, A-ya?”

A-ya looked at him, and into his tired, empty eyes. “Take a tragedy, like that…”

“…And present it as a comedy to the audience.” Izaya looked somewhere far off.

The previously possessed boy thought on this for minute. “Were we close, Izaya?”

“Would it matter?”

“I guess not.”

Izaya chuckled.

“Well, at least I remember you,” offered Yukine. “Sorry that my master’s a jerk.”

“I’m sorry that I brought you back into this mess,” Izaya answered with a thin smile.

“You know,” piped in Shintaro, as the other four got absorbed into the conversation, “despite everything, I’m, uh… glad I remember you.”

“Aw, I’m touched,” he said with some sarcasm.

“I’m also glad you lived,” the shut-in added, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“I still don’t remember,” said Seidou bluntly, “and I still wouldn’t really care if you died.”

Izaya looked at Seidou, smile still on but eyes narrowing. “So touched.”

“Seidou,” said Kaneki, “knowing that these are the people we will be fighting alongside up to the end of this tale, you should be more kind.”

“That is kindness,” Seidou sniffed. “It’s honesty. What, you want me to lie?”

“Well…”

“I think,” said Rika, “that what Kaneki means is that you should consider better accepting the people around you. We’d best come to terms with our partners, lest we may fail. We are a team, and we must act as such.”

Kaneki was nodding. Seidou rolled his eyes.

“Izaya Orihara.”

Everyone looked to Hanyuu, the one who had spoken. Raising his eyebrows, Izaya answered with a, “Hah?”

“I am a goddess. Unlike you, I am not a Child of Man.”

“So, I’m human and you’re not?” Loosely, he crossed his arms over his chest. “We’ve gone over our species a handful of times now. What’s your point, Hanyuu?”

She closed her eyes for a bit a longer than a standard blink, twining her fingers together. “I remember you, even though my vessel does not. Much like Shintaro and Yukine, the effects of your severed ties do not reach me. You… have done many questionable things.”

“I really don’t need you telling me that.” He raised a nonchalant hand. “I already know. You don’t like me; it’s fine. Maybe it’s just that you don’t trust me, and that’s fine too. I wouldn’t either.”

“It’s also true that you saved Rika’s life,” Hanyuu spoke slowly, as though it were admittance that she didn’t want to give. Surprise rippled through the others – it was something that Shintaro wouldn’t have known, either, and quite frankly, Izaya didn’t seem like the type to save lives. Yeah, maybe he brought Yukine back, but… still. That was different. “I’m sure that if Rika could recall, she would continue to be both grateful and intrigued by your role in this game… as well as you as a person.”

Izaya settled, beginning to look vaguely humored. “Really. Well. I’m honored.”

“The child A-ya has already been forgiven,” Hanyuu continued, looking over to him. A-ya blinked. “Yato has absolved him of his sins, and so… Izaya Orihara, Child of Man, I, not borne of man, am forgiving you of your sins.” Hanyuu’s dark gaze softened a bit, looking upon the comically surprised Izaya Orihara. “You’re forgiven, now. Though the fates may have their way with you in terms of atonement, your soul is now clean.”

Izaya pondered this for some time, the others suspended in this curious silence. The informant shook his head, laughing in an off tone. “You can’t just go and do that.” He didn’t look at her.

“I can. I’m the goddess Hanyuu.”

“That doesn’t matter. It’s too late for something like that. It’s very cute of you and all, but there’s no point.”

“There is,” she said matter-of-factly. “It matters not whether you accept it. My word holds a weight you may not be able to yet perceive, in your mortal state.”

He cocked an eyebrow, silent. He waited, just in case she had more to say. When there was nothing, he rolled his shoulders in a shrug. “Alright then, well… I suppose we should all begin to consider moving forward, don’t you think?”

“I was beginning to think the same thing,” Kaneki agreed, and Izaya pushed himself from the wall to stand upright, his weight shifted to his good leg.

A-ya, Yukiteru, and Yukine all looked one another, and the two Yukis got to their feet.

“I figure that Seidou and I can move some of the debris out of the way, being stronger than the average human,” said Kaneki. “Yukiteru-kun, if you want to help, your gravitation would be very helpful and much appreciated.”

“Of course I will!” Yukiteru said with a curt nod.

“I can help too,” offered Yukine. “I may not be able to become a sword or anything… but I can sort of slice at things with borderlines, so I can break up anything that’s real big.”

Kaneki was nodding. “That’s very good. Yes, thank you.”

A-ya looked at the red-stained ground, and noticed Yukiteru’s cellphone. He kept his curiosity at bay, but went to pick it up for his friend. Hesitating, his hand hovered over the cellular device. He eyed the scissors lying discarded nearby. After some consideration, he picked up the scissors and slipped them into his pocket before grabbing the cellphone and standing up. No one noticed. “I have lightning, too,” said A-ya in his characteristic monotone, looking at Kaneki even as he held out the cellphone to Yukiteru.

“Oh,” said the cloaked one. “Thanks, A-ya.”

“If we need more breaking up, that would be useful,” Kaneki nodded. “Thank you, A-ya. In that case, it’s Rika, Shintaro, and Izaya that should stay back while we clear the debris for a path to—the basement, he said.” Kaneki touched his chin.

“There was a discolored panel on the wall in the morgue,” said Izaya. “That’s probably what we’ll be looking for. It’s on the south wall in there, so we probably want to come from the other side.”

“Alright. Then that’s what we’ll do.”

“It doesn’t matter if we break the door, right?” asked Seidou dully. “We’ll still get where we need to be, right?”

“Well, yes, but we probably shouldn’t damage more than we need to…”

“I say it doesn’t matter,” huffed Yukine. “Let’s just go for it.”

“I like him,” said Seidou. “Did I ever say that before?”

“But,” Yukiteru protested, holding up the phone, “my friend is supposed to meet with us. What if we hurt him?”

“Screw ‘im,” said Seidou.

“Uhh… I don’t know if being so aggressive is a good thing,” said Shintaro awkwardly.

“Violence only get us into more precarious situations,” agreed Rika.

“Technically speaking,” said A-ya, “knowing the game masters, would they really let whoever’s coming to meet us die so ridiculously?”

“That’s a good point, A-ya-kun,” said Izaya, amused.

“But that is definitely not a solid science,” said Shintaro.

Izaya shrugged. “I mean, I bargained my life on it. Not that it was rational, by any means.”

“Yeah, you bargained mine, too,” frowned Shintaro.

“Oh, did I?”

“When you pushed me off the balcony. Remember?”

“Oh, I did do that, didn’t I?”

“I could still kill you,” growled Seidou to Izaya.

“Please don’t,” said Hanyuu with a trace of nervousness.

“Wait, Izaya, you did what to Shintaro?” demanded Yukine. “Why?

“The point is,” said Izaya pointedly, “was I right?”

“Well, yeah,” Shintaro conceded, crossing his arms. “But still.”

“Actually,” said Izaya, seeming struck, “that is strange, isn’t it?”

Shintaro slumped. “What now?”

“If Muse has jurisdiction over who lives and who dies,” Izaya explained, “and Muse is the mastermind who ultimately would prefer reset, then what was it that ensured your survival? I did that to prove the point that you needed to make it, but you could have easily died there, ensuring the reset that Muse wants. Is it that it was too anticlimactic a death? Maybe, but…”

“What are you going on about?” asked Yukine sourly.

“It is true that it’s odd,” said A-ya. “What happened, was it that you pushed him off a high balcony and something saved him?”

“That’s right; Konoha caught him.”

“Could it be that a different game master aligned the timing to make sure he was alright?” suggested the dark-clad one.

“Could be,” said Izaya with a slight nod. “But do you really think they’d have such a say if it weren’t the mastermind?”

“I’m getting what you’re saying now,” said Shintaro. “Maybe they justified it another way?”

“Timing…” Yukiteru thought about it, putting a hand to his chin. “Well, I don’t think it’s timing; Rodd seems to be pro-Muse for sure. He tried to make me into an antagonist just recently. It was horrible.”

“Maybe some other justification,” said A-ya. “If it’s something symbolic, it could easily be Aureus, but I don’t know that he’d be able to save people so well in his position.”

“It doesn’t help that he seems pretty clumsy,” added Shintaro, hand at the back of his neck.

“Maybe one of the other masters is on our side after all,” said Rika.

“Well, that would be interesting, no?” said Izaya.

“I’m looking forward to seeing them all in person,” agreed A-ya slowly. Him and Izaya looked at one another and had a silent exchange. Izaya smiled thinly at the dark-clad boy.

“But, uh…” Shintaro scratched at his head. “Doesn’t that mean it was way riskier for you to do that to me, Izaya?”

“Only as risky as shooting at me with a machine gun.” Izaya flashed him a grin. Shintaro looked glum.

“Well, that’s horrible and all,” said Yukine, “but what are we doing from here? What’s our course of action?”

Everyone looked to Kaneki, whose hand was to his chin, his grey eyes distant.

After a while, he spoke: “Such trivial things don’t matter anymore. Go in with as much force as you want. It would be a horrible sort of plot to hurt that freed prisoner in the process. Tasteless and without purpose. They’ll be fine.”

He looked at everyone, looking infinitely exhausted and indefinitely finished with all of this nonsense. “Let’s begin.”


With five inhuman forces put to the task, it really didn’t take all that long. There was one incident where Seidou threw a piece of wall in Izaya’s direction, whereon Izaya just barely dodged. Seidou claimed that he hadn’t intended to do it, and Seidou found that the next piece of wall he lifted decided to electrocute him.

“Oh, sorry,” said A-ya with a small smile. “I didn’t know you were going for that one.”

“Oh, what the fuck…”

Shintaro, standing back with Izaya and Rika, could only pinch the bridge of the nose, sighing heavily.

But everyone’s joint efforts led them below ground level, where to some of the group’s discomfort, remains of the females awaited them. Seidou didn’t help: “Oh, yeah, I think that ankle’s from the white-haired chick. She tasted like Shigekix Super Cola Candy!” He made it very difficult to remain somber, though Yukine tried. Seidou was starting piss him off by that point, though.

“Don’t get distracted by the meat, boy,” called Izaya, “remember what you’re sniffing out, now!”

Seidou looked to the sky. “I’m going to fucking kill this guy.”

“No, you’re not,” said Kaneki simply.

“Maybe you should be more respectful,” Yukine said tersely to Seidou, who drew his lips into a thin line.

“Of the dead?”

“Yeah.”

“What, do you wanna be called ‘sir’?”

Seidou,” Kaneki frowned.

“Sorry, sorry. That was pretty bad, wasn’t it?”

“Can’t we all get along?” inquired Yukiteru, tentative.

“I think both Seidou and Izaya are being children,” huffed Yukine.

“I agree,” said Rika.

“Wow, harsh,” said Izaya. “From the two youngest, no less?”

“It’s okay, Yukine,” said Yukki. “Me and A-ya are fourteen too.”

“Mm.” A-ya wasn’t being very talkative.

“I think the only thing good about this banter,” said Shintaro tiredly, “is that it kinda… I don’t know… How do I put it?”

“It feels like family,” offered Rika, as Hanyuu began nodding, then stopped, furrowing her brow.

“I wouldn’t say that much, Rika.”

“I would,” Rika smiled.

When the five-man taskforce thought they had found the wall, they called down Izaya to come check. He looked skeptically at the terrain in front of him: a landslide of concrete, bent metal, and broken glass. He was about to make a snide remark about his shattered leg when Yukiteru lifted him gravitationally, bringing him to glide down to where the wall was.

“Well,” said Izaya as he was set gently on his feet. He had nothing else to say. He looked at the wall, limping up to it and touching it with his hand. Brushing away the building’s dusty residue, he found the edges of the panel and felt the ever so slight draft from the crack there. “This is the one,” he confirmed.

Before they made any move to remove the panel from the wall, Yukiteru got Rika and Shintaro down safely. Rika discovered it was a much better experience than being suddenly thrust into the air and above the trees, Yukiteru hovering beside her as he came to the conclusion that hey, he should down the entire forest.

No, this time it was gentle, careful, and kind. Rika wondered if this weightless sensation was anything like how Hanyuu perceived her own movement.

Shintaro was unnerved by the experience. He tugged at his scarf. “Um… thanks,” he said awkwardly. He’d never been to the morgue, but even with the sky above them, the sun shining and much of the carnage hidden under debris, he still knew that this was a burial site, and that made him feel a little uncomfortable.

“That scarf suits you, Shintaro.”

Her voice came from nowhere, whispering behind him like she was following after him politely this whole time.

He almost passed out. He really did.

“Shintaro,” said Seidou, “what the fuck?” Behind his irritation was a layer of concern. The red-scarfed one had sat down abruptly, what color he had in his visage drained.

“Is it that you are okay?” asked Rika, concerned.

He tried to answer, but couldn’t. He could have sworn he just heard… But there was no way, was there?

Ayano.

Yukine offered a hand to him, and Shintaro took it. “I—sorry, I lost my balance.” He gave a weak sort of laugh.

Seidou rolled his eyes.

“Shintaro,” said Kaneki gently, “it’s alright if there’s something to be said…”

“Really,” he insisted. “I’m sure it’s nothing…” He trailed off, eyes wandering to the shadows detailing the piled-up debris. Was it nothing? What if he’d finally lost it? Though it wasn’t the first time that thought had occurred to him…

They were all interrupted by the chiming of Yukiteru’s phone. Everyone watched as he swiftly opened the flip-phone to read the message. “It looks like he’s on the other side,” he said. “C’mon, let’s get it open!” He tried to get his fingers in the crack between panels, but without success. “How do we…?”

“I could use my kagune,” suggested Kaneki thoughtfully.

“Why don’t we ask whoever it is to open it from the inside?” asked Yukine, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“But I can’t send messages,” said Yukki, “only receive.”

A-ya just observed, seemingly uninterested.

“It’s not about whether you can text him,” said Seidou, stalking over to the panel and pounding his fist on it. “OI! OPEN UP.

“Please don’t yell once we’re underground, though…,” Shintaro said faintly.

“I like having eardrums, even in death,” said Yukine, picking at his ear.

“Oh, fuck you,” said Seidou. The half-ghoul stopped, looking startled, then looked over at the panel. It jostled a bit, and he moved out of the way.

“Can’t we help?” asked Yukiteru, brow furrowed.

“Only by not blocking it,” A-ya shrugged.

“Or blasting open the damn door,” shrugged Seidou.

“Which isn’t preferable, at this point,” said Kaneki.

Kincho was wriggling in Rika’s arms, more restless than ever. He grunted impatiently, and Rika gave him an apologetic look before looking up to Yukki. “But, wait,” said Seidou. “Who is this person that was taken in by the game masters? And—why?”

He didn’t have the chance to answer, because the panel was forced open a crack. Since no one moved immediately, A-ya grabbed the thing and pulled, the bottom scraping on the ground. Slightly bothered, he opened it as far as he could before looking into the tunnel beyond and stopping, surprised.

Rika and Hanyuu looked equally stupefied.

Yukiteru was overjoyed, just barely containing himself as he looked to everyone else in excitement, like ‘Here he is! Isn’t it wonderful?’

Izaya raised his eyebrows, looking unimpressed and maybe a little bit smug. He said, “Long time no see, Akise-kun.”

Just slightly, the silver-haired boy smiled his sly, knowing smile. “Likewise,” he said.

 

Chapter 108: The Prisoner

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

 

There’d been nothing left for him to do. Celty was dead, and Minene was dying. The house beside him was catching fire from the grenades that had gone off. Akise had no weapon. Yato was before him, death in his eyes and Nora in his hands.

The silver-haired one jumped backwards in anticipation of the slash he knew was coming. The blade skidded over his bulletproof vest, and he chuckled. I’m going to die. He knew that the next blow would surely end him. “This is alright, Yato-san.”  A storm brewed overhead. Akise had already accepted his fate, and Yato could see it in his rose eyes. Even in the ice he breathed, Yato felt a little bit of relief. Was that what it was? Relief? Maybe not, but looking into such warm but knowing eyes somehow validated his choice. Yato had made his decision, and Akise didn’t seem to judge him as right or wrong; rather, he accepted it fully. Yato said nothing, but lifted his sword.

Just slightly, a half-smile touched Akise’s pale lips. His voice was smooth. “As long as Yukiteru-kun makes it, I—”

The blade came.

Yato slashed into empty air. He halted, eyes flying wide. What? He wheeled around – where could he have gone? He was only human, wasn’t he? He couldn’t move that fast.

But he wasn’t behind him, or anywhere. He was just—gone. Yato didn’t want to lower his guard, and so he slowly took a few paces backwards, staring in disbelief. Nora tremored in his hands.

Akise stood still, a hand over his mouth and arms pulled tight behind him, fingers gripping his wrists together like a vice. “Shhh,” hushed the voice of whoever had grabbed him, yanking him backwards just in time to save his life. The boy detective had figured out pretty quickly that Yato couldn’t see him or his captor, but Akise didn’t feel like he was out of the woods quite yet. He did not struggle – there was no point. It was hard to gauge whether the one who’d grabbed him was here to help or hurt him, but judging from the fact that he was now invisible to Yato, he’d begun figuring that the person holding onto him wasn’t a game player.

He watched as Yato eventually left to give Izaya his dues. He felt his wrists getting freed, the hand uncovering his mouth. Akise figured this was his cue to turn around and look at this person, and did so. There stood the master with the backpack and green-and-white baseball cap, adjusting his orange-rimmed glasses as he peered at a pocket watch he opened with a click.

Tilting his head, Akise stuck his hands in his pockets. A smile played on his lips – he recognized this description from Yukiteru; he knew who this was. “I don’t suppose you’re Rodd?”

“Your time’s up,” he said flatly. His tone was final.

Akise’s smile became a frown. “What do you mean?”

“Your job’s done.” The presumed game master closed the pocket watch again, looking at Akise. His eyes glowed purple, wide and blank. “You’re not a player in this game, Aru Akise, much like I’m not a player. I am Rodd, by the way. You know me. How swell.”

“What do you mean I’m not a player?” Akise asked slowly, carefully. “Why am I on the playing field?”

Rodd blinked. “Why am I on the playing field?” he shot back.

“To take me off the playing field?” guessed Akise, eyebrows arching.

“Sort of.” He adjusted the rim of his hat, luminescent eyes glancing over to the house catching fire as they spoke. “I’m on a mission. I’m doing as I’m told. Just like you.”

“I’m not acting on anyone’s will but my own,” Akise said coolly, his rose eyes narrowing. “I—”

“That’s what everyone says,” Rodd said dismissively. “Seraph. Rainbow. Yourself. The players, too. Every one of you is wrong.” He paused. “Regrettably,” he added, as if remembering politeness as an afterthought.

Akise wasn’t entirely sure how to take this claim just yet, so he shifted his weight, choosing his words carefully. This was a game master, huh? He was trying to analyze him, but this Rodd person was a pretty tough subject. “Well…” I can’t say he intends to kill me, thought Akise, eyeing him. Is he going to just send me home? What job is he saying is done? Akise couldn’t quite tell why yet, but a sick sort of feeling began to settle in his gut. “Thank you, then.”

“Hm?” Rodd glanced at him, hands in his pockets. He’d been staring, wide-eyed, off to somewhere beyond Akise.

“You know.” Cautious, Akise pulled out his notebook and pencil. “For saving my life.”

“What are you pulling that out for?” asked Rodd.

Akise smiled mildly, innocent. “I just wanted to jot down a thought about you, Game Master Rodd.”

Rodd looked directly above Akise, and Akise felt the coldness of premonition. “You don’t need that anymore,” said the timekeeper, and Akise turned to face behind him too late – a large arm knocked his notebook from him and suddenly a tall, bald man with a sinister-looking goatee had him by the roots of his silver hair. He stared into him with narrowed violet eyes. His eye sockets were dark and sunken; the bags on his lower lids were deep and dark, though his pupils were both deeper and darker.

You will come with me.

Akise saw his lips move, and heard his low voice. He didn’t remember what came next, only the recollection that he was suddenly in a well-lit, well-furnished, high-ceilinged room with a lush purple rug underfoot. The boy detective blinked, lost. He felt as though perhaps he should be frightened, but he was not a boy who knew fear. He worked well for himself, his eyes taking in every detail he could examine from his standpoint.

He was a detective. It didn’t matter if he was the one at the center of the case – he would treat this mystery just the same as any other. This room was alarmingly cluttered with things – it seemed to be a full living space, a kitchen just barely in his peripheral vision at his right, a bedding area at his far left… There was an entertainment center, video game consoles, and two laptops that were set on a coffee table that was decorated with miniature figurines. He was mildly alarmed—and extremely intrigued—to find that he recognized some of the figurines: he was certain he recognized one of Celty and Izaya, respectively. There were posters on the walls that Akise didn’t have the chance to look at because what drew more of his attention were the two that were staring at him, both with the same purple eyes.

“Akise!” said one of them. Their hair was fluffy, purple at the roots and fading into every color of the rainbow. There was a grey kerchief tied about their neck – Akise found it reminiscent of the scarf that Yato once wore. “You brought Akise! Can we keep him?”

At their side was another one, running a hand through hair of a darker silver than Akise’s own hair – more grey than silver, perhaps? It was hair that was swept over green-rimmed spectacles. This one wore a kerchief too, but theirs was rainbow in color. An eerie smile touched their mouth, a mischievous sparkle in their eyes. “Akise…,” they repeated.

Durden!” cried the rainbow-haired one. “Why didn’t you bring two?! We coulda put them in the yaoi room!”

The silver-grey-haired one stifled a laugh.

“I don’t really feel like watching gay sex,” Durden said casually. It sounded like he was still behind Akise. “Maybe some other night.”

“You don’t have to watch,” offered the grey-silver-haired one.

“Yeah,” agreed the other. “No one said you had to.”

The grey-silver-haired one quirked an eyebrow, playful. “You could always partake, Durden—try something new.”

He burst into a full cackle, then stopped short. “Ah… no.” He went over and snatched a snack bar from the table, at which the rainbow-haired one gave an abrupt, “Oh,” and the grey-silver-haired one laughed. Durden tossed the snack bar to Akise, who caught it.

Akise gave a thin smile to the game masters around him. He could only assume they were game masters. He was a level-headed person; he would remain calm. “I’m sorry, you appear to already know me. Would it be rude to ask for introductions?”

The grey-silver-haired one began to speak, but was cut off by the rainbow-haired one, standing up abruptly from the luxurious couch they rested on. “I’m Rainbow, and that’s Greyson.”

The one called Greyson sunk in their spot on the couch, looking slightly sour.

“You may call me Durden,” said the bald one, flashing a grin and giving a short bow.

“Are we keeping him?” Rainbow asked Durden tentatively. “Or does Muse want him? Because if they do, then it’s fine.”

Akise only watched and observed. It was the best thing to do – he had no grips in this situation.

Durden nodded. “We’re sticking him in the cell down the hall. They’ll be under your care, though Rodd ‘n I’ll come and check up on him.”

“Can we play with him?” asked Greyson, folding their fingers together hopefully. The look on their face suggested sadistic glee.

Greyson,” said Rainbow, stern.

Durden chuckled.

The one with the most colorful hair straightened. “I’ll take good care of him.”

They sound like they’re talking about getting themselves their first pet. Akise looked down at the snack in his hand – it was a granola bar with a yogurt-coated bottom. Strawberry. This situation is more concerning by the moment. “Pardon me,” he spoke up, and the three game masters looked at him. “I don’t understand why I’m being placed in a cell.” He smiled kindly. “Did I do something wrong?” I should test the waters, at least a little bit.

The three masters all turned to one another. Rainbow looked blank, Greyson amused, and Durden scrutinizing. “Come with me,” said the bald one.

Oh dear, he thought mildly. “Of course.” He smiled gently at the others. “Pleasure to meet you, Greyson and Rainbow.”

“The pleasure is ours,” piped up Greyson, touching their fingertips together in steeple formation. By now Durden was gesturing for Akise to follow him, looking particularly dark. The shadows under his eyes were even more pronounced. Akise didn’t waste any time, pocketing his snack bar and following after the bald game master.

They entered through a door that closed behind them – Akise was paying close attention to where they were heading and where they came from. He found it incredibly suspicious that he couldn’t recall coming here, though logically speaking, he should find the exit in the direction they were coming from now… He touched his chin, distinctly bothered.

“Durden-san, could I ask—?”

“Ah-ah-ah,” Durden halted him, holding up his hand. He turned, leaning into Akise’s personal space, intimidating as ever. “Don’t—call me Durden-san. It’s just Durden. Understand?”

Akise raised his eyebrows. “I’m sorry. Durden, then.” He watched the game master unlock a door, examining how he did it. An eye recognition scanner… That would be hard to break out of.

“Oh, come on,” Durden frowned as the scanner flashed yellow in the negative and beeped harshly at him. Rolling his purple eyes, he unhooked some keys from the belt loop of his dark jeans. “I don’t know why I even bother,” he said, unlocking the door with a silver key and looking to Akise as he opened it and gestured inside. “After you,” he smiled coldly.

It was in that room he was kept for the next two days: one wall held screens that they were kind enough (or cruel enough) to turn on to let him watch the games. He was given only the screens and a cushion for furnishings, unless you counted the dishes and silverware that were given him for every meal. He knew the time of day from the screens, and also by who came to visit. For each meal, Rainbow would stop in to feed him, frequently sticking around to chat aimlessly with the captive. Their talk was pleasant, but Akise couldn’t help but be bothered by how casual the conversations were. Granted, he found Rainbow was easy to get information out of. Maybe it was because they sympathized with him, maybe because they pitied him, maybe they didn’t like the game either… Maybe they just didn’t think about it. He couldn’t tell.

It was from Rainbow that Akise learned of all the masters, and their names: Rodd, timing; Durden, plot; Seraph, depth; Aureus, symbolism; themselves and Greyson, connections and disconnections, respectively. Muse, they said, was just Muse. “You know,” said Rainbow as if it were obvious. “Like, an author.”

At night, Greyson would knock and enter. The first of two occurrences of this, Akise was quite surprised. Here was when deeper conversation was held, in the dead of night when the moon was high and stars had gone through much of their visible rotation. Akise had just watched Izaya’s deterioration, watched him strain and break. Watched him scream, and weep—he was human, after all.

In the silence that followed, while Akise’s watchful eyes on the screen showing the formation of an alliance between A-ya and Nora, Greyson had come. Akise was leaning in to catch the details of what was going on between the possessed one and the jaded spirit – that was right, who was Hiyori’s murderer? – when he heard a knock on the door, turning in time to see it open. Greyson slipped in, smiling rather tentatively for someone who showed off sadism. “Some show,” they said, and Akise frowned at them. “I’ve been waiting so long to see Izaya break…”

“What are you doing here?” Akise asked coolly.

“I’m… uh…” Greyson nervously tugged at their rainbow kerchief, wrapped around their neck. “I was really excited about it, but I don’t know who to talk to about it. Rain talked for a little bit, but now they’re sleeping. I couldn’t.”

Akise looked into them with narrowed eyes, suspicious. Why were they acting so anxious?

“I don’t want to bother you…”

He closed his eyes. “I have nothing but time. I’d love to talk to somebody.”

Relief washed over Greyson’s face, brow furrowed. “Really?”

The boy detective gestured vaguely. “Sit down, if you want. I don’t have anywhere for you but floor; I hope you forgive me.”

Greyson laughed weakly, and obliged. They straightened their black vest, concealing a purple t-shirt. “I… thanks.”

He cocked an eyebrow.

“I, I know you don’t really have a choice… Haha… But, um…”

“What is it, Greyson? Trust me, I want to hear everything there is to hear.” He spread his arms, half-shrugging. “Even if it’s secret, who can I tell?”

“Hah… true…” Sighing, Greyson took off their green-rimmed spectacles, pinching the bridge of their nose and massaging the area with thumb and forefinger. They looked so exhausted. “I don’t feel so good,” they said weakly.

“Are you one of the masters against the game?” Akise made himself more comfortable, shifting on his cushion so that he could lean back on the palms of his hands.

Greyson averted their eyes. “No. It’s fun.” They ran a hand through their grey-silver hair. “I like when things go wrong. I just—something’s not right, and I don’t know what…”

He raised his eyebrows. “If something isn’t right, then it may well be wrong, though, Greyson. I’m not quite following… You just said you liked when things went wrong.”

Greyson closed their eyes, looking to be holding back some kind of emotion. It looked more sorrowful than angry. “I—know. But it doesn’t feel like that.”

“Out of curiosity, why are you coming to me about this?”

“I can’t go to Rainbow,” they huffed, turning their face away from the other. They paused, hesitating. “I just… can’t. Seraph is gone. Aureus… I can’t, not over the phone. I don’t know how to approach Durden. Rodd… is hard to hold conversation with, as much as I admire him. And Muse just isn’t who we think they are.”

Now his interest was sparked. “Oh? What do you mean?”

Greyson looked at him with tearful eyes, now glowing a striking emerald. “I’m going to tell you everything I can think of. You’d be able to figure it out better than I could.”

Akise stared into those eyes of jade. Curious… “If you say so,” he said. “I’d love to listen to all you have.”

So, Greyson went on to explain anything and everything that occurred to them, and Akise absorbed every word, his eyes focused on the game master, all of his attention on the information he was being given: the room he was in right now once belonged to Aureus, or so it seemed, because his name was on the sign outside the door. Grey couldn’t remember it ever being his room, as all they could remember was that Aureus had always been stuck underground, incapable of leaving. But there was more than one game that had occurred, where Grey could only remember the current route. They didn’t know what that meant, per se, but they admitted they didn’t like that they didn’t know as much as they felt they should. They told Akise about their lack of recollections – that is, they couldn’t remember anything, really, not since before the game began. All they could gather was a sense that it was how it had always been, but what did that mean? Grey had recently noticed their broken watch, frozen at 12:30, and fretted over the reason they hadn’t noticed. Every time they tried to bring it up to Rainbow, they changed the subject as if it were unimportant or as if they wanted to avoid it. Seraph seemed to kind of know that something was wrong, and was the one who had insisted upon her theory that “Muse was not Muse,” if that were possible. Greyson admitted that they had noticed something wrong, too – even for knowing “how it had always been,” Grey felt as though they were lacking something whenever Muse did come to the lower levels to visit. They also had suspicions that Aureus knew what was going on – “And what if that’s why he isn’t in the tower anymore? Because he knows?”

Greyson told Akise about how yes, Aureus had been found by Yukiteru, A-ya, and Celty, as it had been claimed. Shintaro and Roppi had also found him, and Aureus had given them information and items, accordingly. They told him about the Harrowing Blade, and bringing back Konoha and consequently Saeru… about how Saeru wasn’t supposed to possess A-ya originally, but after Aureus had intervened where he shouldn’t have, Saeru had been redirected by Muse. Grey told him about Rodd, and how he sent Yukiteru forward in time – the only reason that Yukki recognized Akise was because of Rodd. They told him about Durden, and his hand in multitudes of situations throughout the game, most notably his hand in making Yato snap again, consequently getting Celty and Minene killed. They told him about Seraph, and how she had made her move to save Seidou through Roppi. How Muse had gotten Roppi killed by Seidou as a consequence. At least Seidou was saved? Well… sort of. Now he was with Shintaro, but Shintaro was harrowed, so what use was that?

Greyson talked about Light Yagami, and why he bothered them. Sure, Light was an asshat that totally had what came to him—but Greyson had no idea what happened to him after he went through the cemetery gates. Apparently, there were no cameras in the cemetery.

Greyson admitted to Akise that even Rodd had brought up a discrepancy in the ‘script.’ According to him, Roppi was supposed to make it to the end, having been correlated with Seraph. Supposedly Yato had been correlated with Durden, and should make it from here – but they’d just have to see whether that would happen. There was also rumor going around among the masters that Greyson was correlated with Shinichi, which Grey supposed made sense.

Akise had tilted his head in question. A correlation between player and master? Making it to the end? There were to be eight winners, Grey explained, one for each game master.

“But I thought there were seven of you?” he’d said, and Grey stared at him, wide-eyed, eyes still shining green.

“You’re right. Oh my god, why are there eight winners? What if one of us died?” They pressed their hands to their cheeks. “That would be so interesting! I mean, it would be horrible, especially since I can’t remember them at all… Aha…” They scratched at their temple, uncomfortable.

Akise thought of his theory of the traitor. If Aureus was already the ‘traitor,’ what would be worse than ‘knowing the Truth’? He smiled slightly. “Is it that you think of all of this like a story?”

“Huh? Yeah, I guess so…” They paused, distracted. “You’re wonderful, you know that, Akise? I’ve always wanted to have a conversation with you.”

“‘Always’ doesn’t sound like very long coming from someone who only remembers the past week or so of their life.”

“That’s a good point, I guess…” They shifted. “So, um… Sorry for dumping all of that on you. I haven’t really been able to talk about it with anyone… but like, I knew that you’d want to hear it, I guess, so…”

“Yes, thank you,” Akise nodded. “Trust me, there’s no need to apologize for any of this… You’re absolutely correct – I am more than willing to listen. I’ve wanted to know the truth about all of this since the moment I came into this game. Hm…” He touched his chin. Me, a seeker of truth… Isn’t that what Muse doesn’t want? Then…  He closed his eyes, sighing lightly.

“But… How can you even trust me, anyway? Since I’m a game master, and you know that.”

Akise thought about this. “I leave room for doubt whenever I find new information. Whether you’re being honest with me or not, much of what you’re giving fits into the puzzle I’m trying to piece together. And many of your reactions at least seem genuine.” He smiled his knowing smile, somehow warm. “And besides, Greyson… Do you really think it matters whether I unearth the truth now? I’m your prisoner; there’s not much else I can do but play detective alone.”

Greyson looked at Akise, visage apologetic. They looked away. “That’s right.” They half-laughed, bringing a hand to their face. “You’re stuck here too; I already wasn’t even thinking of that… again… It’s not like you have any choice, of course. And me, well… I’m someone who breaks things apart, you know? It’s what I’m made to do. I could make Yukiteru forget about you like everyone else just forgot about Izaya. But as fun as it would be to watch you suffer alone, I don’t want Yukki forgetting about you… That’s no fun. I want him to know that you’re alive but out of reach. I want him to be torn apart from the inside out because he couldn’t save who he wanted to… and he’d have to choose between you and A-ya…” They laughed breathily, and lowered their hand, grinning at Akise. The boy detective stared back into eyes that were purple again. “You’re right. You really can’t do anything else. Isn’t that wonderful? You’re stuck here, just like the rest of us!”

Calmly, Akise folded his fingers together, contemplating the shift in eye color. “I wouldn’t be too sure, Greyson. I’m not one to give up. I’ll get the truth to Yukiteru-kun somehow.” His eyes narrowed, flickering with cold fire. “Even if I were dead, I would still get the message across.”

Greyson put their glasses back on their face, smiling lopsidedly. “You’re so sweet. I admire your determination and dedication. I don’t know if I could live up to it, myself.” With this, they got to their feet, stretching their stiff legs. “Thank you. I think I’ll be able to get to sleep now. I’m exhausted.”

Akise, however, did not sleep much. He lay on the floor with his cushion as a pillow, staring into all of the screens and consequently into the restless nights of everyone else he’d left to remain on the playing field. No use feeling guilty… Though this sense of helplessness is discouraging.

There has to be some way to tell the players what’s going on. He recalled his notebook, and how it had fallen into the grass. Looking into the screen depicting Izaya’s tormented yet slumbering figure, Akise felt a spark. I need someone to find my notebook. That alone would be enough.

Please, Izaya-san… become my prophet.

Durden came to him the next day, early in the morning. He sat up quickly upon the opening of the door. Akise didn’t recall ever getting to sleep, but he noticed that on-screen, Izaya was up now, and had Akise’s notebook in hand. Akise felt his mouth upturn despite himself. It was then that Durden gave him a teal cellphone, just like the one Akise had had at home. Akise accepted it, but looked at Durden with suspicion. Durden didn’t seem to want to answer any questions, and left again without much explanation.

Akise futzed with his phone, getting as much out of it as he could. He only had one contact – Yukiteru-kun… but he doesn’t have his phone, so what am I…? – and he couldn’t make any calls. He discovered he could write messages, and attempted to send one to Yukki only to have a return message bounce back, claiming that the number was out of service.

He kept watching the screens, too. He didn’t know what to make of Yukiteru downing the forest, and was absolutely itching to get the hell out of there, knowing that Yukiteru thought that he’d betrayed him. I’ll prove it wrong. Don’t worry…

He found he wasn’t hungry for the lunch that Rainbow offered him, but they left it in the room anyway.

The cellphone could receive calls, he found. He answered an obscure phone call and got caught up in a two-hour-long conversation with Aureus, interchanging with Seraph. “Hi! Akise! I get to talk to you! Hi!

Aureus seemed like an excitable guy.

Throughout the conversation, Akise kept his eyes on the screens – he was grateful for the conversation, long-winded though it was. Through him and through Seraph, he confirmed a lot of information that he’d attained through Rainbow or Greyson, as well as learned Seraph and Aureus’s side of the story. After learning about Aureus’s struggle to protect the ones he’d met with underground, and his rebellion against Muse centering around Kiritsugu Emiya, and how everything was falling apart for him now… After hearing Seraph’s frantic exclamations of injustice for Yukine, and Roppi, and Seidou, and Yato… And how yes, she had intervened, but it was completely called for and justified because Muse was obviously cheating and probably deserved to die…

Indeed, after all this, Aureus explained that he was the one that had gotten the cellphone delivered to Akise via Durden. Akise listened with interest to Seraph’s sudden silence and subsequent clearly expressed distrust of Durden and where he stood. The items master assured the captive that there would better use for the cellphone soon, he was sure of it.

And not all that long after he got off the phone with Aureus and Seraph, he was proven right. Yukiteru got his deep blue cellphone courtesy of the items module that Izaya had shown him, and Akise decided that he was more grateful to that informant than he thought he’d ever be. Watching the scene with contained hope, Akise snapped from his concern for Yukiteru and hastily typed out the simplest message he could think of: [I’m still alive.]

Watching what happened after, he was immensely relieved to see that it sent, but of course neither Yukiteru nor Izaya knew who it was sending the message. Akise decided that his next message would have to be very carefully worded and precise. He needed to somehow ensure that Yukki believed it was him. It took him some time to formulate this, as Yukiteru and Izaya wandered off together, musing about the message and half-conversing with one another, getting tea… Eventually, he felt satisfied enough to send the next message.

[It’s Akise. I know this doesn’t make sense, Yukiteru-kun, but please bear with me. I’m as of yet unable to explain my current situation, but I trust you to find me at some time in the future. I fear you may doubt me, but at this point I would also understand your distrust. In any case, I’ve come to the understanding that Izaya Orihara is in possession of my notebook. This is fine. I’m sure he’ll make use of it. Due to his current circumstance, you don’t know who he is. I am telling you to be wary of him, but on that note, his goals right now aren’t of necessarily ill will. I’m sorry I can’t be at your side right now, but this is the best I can do. From where I am, I’ll do my best to protect you. Please don’t stray too far. I trust you’ll make the right choice in the end. Until then, I will try to maintain contact like this. I’m sorry for this inconvenience… and I regret being unable to save Minene-san and Celty-san. I can only hope that you and Rika-chan can make it out. I believe you can, Yukiteru-kun.]

For the time, it was enough.

Even though Yukiteru couldn’t answer him, Akise could observe his reactions through the screens. Gradually, Akise leaked as much information as he could think to, telling Yukiteru about the game masters and what they represented. He gave him all he could. The only concern that Akise could not quell was the purpose of the game masters willingly giving him this cellphone. It just seemed too easy.

That evening, Rodd came. Immediately, Akise flipped his phone screen shut. “I bet you’re wondering,” he said, “why we’re doing this. I bet you’d like to know the truth.”

Akise only frowned at him, eyes narrowing just slightly.

The timekeeper pocketed his hands, expressionless. “That isn’t to say that I’ll tell you. Really, I’m just coming to check up on you. Leaving anybody in isolation for too long is unethical.” Rodd’s mouth upturned just slightly at the irony, if only for a moment. Pushing up the glasses on his face, Rodd turned back to the door, making the glass shine with the glare. “I’ve been sent on a mission, I’ll have you know. I use the past tense, but I actually mean that I will be sent on one in the near future. I don’t make sense sometimes. I take pride in this.” He paused. “Anyway, nothing goes past Muse without them knowing. What I’m saying is… well, I guess you can figure it out yourself. You’re pretty smart.”

Akise thought of the cellphone in his hand, his jaw tightening. So was it that Muse didn’t want that communication going on after all? Then, why hadn’t they stopped it yet?

“You’ve got a front seat to the show,” the game master continued, “so it’s kind of pointless if you end up losing that privilege.” Rodd stuck one hand in his jacket pocket, using the other to pull his cap just a bit lower over his forehead. His spectacles were cast in shadow. “I guess it doesn’t matter what you do, anyway. In the end…” – from his pocket he raised his pocket watch, ticking softly – “…nothing really matters at all. All things are just concepts, really. Don’t think too hard on that, or you may come to doubt your own existence. I do that from time to time. But I think all of us do.”

Rodd turned from him, repocketing his watch and holding the doorknob of the open portal with a pause that held something that could have been reverence. For what, Akise couldn’t tell for sure. He wondered if he felt the same sort of vague doubt as Greyson. “We’re all more fragile than you think. You’re the same. Everyone else, too. But actually, I have to admit…” Rodd paused, and the silence filled the spaces with an unidentifiable apprehension. “It’s okay, because I like purple after all.”

Akise stared at the closed door for some time, hand to his chin. There was so much to glean from this… But…

He tried to warn Yukiteru of Rodd’s visit, but it was too late.

But he watched as everything progressed, and he accepted the dinner Rainbow offered him, talked to Greyson in the dead of night, and was pleasantly surprised by Rainbow purposefully leaving the door unlocked for him the next morning. Perhaps Rainbow, too, knew what was wrong here, whether or not they acknowledged it on the surface.

That is, unless it’s in Muse’s interest to have me escape, but…? He knew something was wrong, but knew not what.

After time enough had passed, Akise slipped out, following Rainbow’s instructions. He kept his cellphone on him, following the designated tunnel out of the tower, stopping at the door that led out. It did not yield to his attempts to open it. Pressing an ear to it, he heard only silence.

All that was left was to wait.

 

Notes:

I will unfortunately be unable to post next week, as I will be camping and therefore without internet. Think of this as an intermission before we finally enter the tower.
I hope you're enjoying, dear readers!

Chapter 109: The Tower

Chapter Text

 

“And that’s how I came to be here.” Akise finished a truncated explanation of his imprisonment, hands still in his pockets.

The eight remained silent, absorbing this. “I am glad to see that you’ve not perished after all,” said Rika, nodding.

“I am sorry for ever doubting you!” cried Hanyuu fretfully, looking just about ready to burst into tears.

Izaya shrugged at the outcry. “Hah… whoops.”

“There’s no need to worry about that now,” assured Akise.

Rika released Kincho, who’d been itching to greet Akise this whole time, and the armadillo scurried up to the boy detective, scratching at his pant leg until he picked him up, scratching under his chin. “Ah, Kincho. Sorry to worry you.”

“Then…” Kaneki touched his chin. “You know about who it is we’ll be up against.”

Akise nodded in confirmation. Kincho hopped from his arms to his shoulders, settling there. “All but the one ‘mystery master,’ as I call them. I’ve no clue what might’ve happened to them. Maybe it’s a red herring. Although, we may have more masters on our side than we think. Rainbow and Greyson are both potential allies; Seraph and Aureus are certainly on our side… Counting the mystery master, that’s more than half already.”

“That’s hopeful,” said Yukine.

“So each of us is correlated to a game master, apparently?” asked Shintaro tentatively. “What does that even mean? I don’t know if I like that.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if I were paired with Rodd,” said Yukiteru dully. “Since he keeps showing up and messing with me.”

“Then what,” said Shintaro, crossing his arms, “I’m with Aureus? ‘Cause he keeps interfering with me, too, even though he’s more indirect.”

“I mean…” Yukki shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Honestly, I don’t care,” Seidou said flatly. “Whoever anyone is, I’m still pissed that we were all dragged into this mess. Nothing’s going to change that. I’m pissed.”

“If anything’s sure,” said Akise, “it’s that we should remain optimistic.” He smiled his slight, crooked smile. “All of you made it. And that should be reason enough to be glad.”

A-ya only stared at Akise, lost for words. Everyone’s speech sounded so distant; the world was falling away from him. Akise is alive. His thoughts reiterated the reality in front of him, but it still didn’t sound like a truth to him.

“I’m just so happy that it was really you,” said Yukiteru to the boy detective, and Akise smiled warmly at him. “The more you said, the more I believed it, but… just—it was hard to put faith in after what happened, and the way it all went down…”

A-ya stuck his only hand in his pocket, feeling the handle of the scissors he’d picked up outside. He gripped them tightly, his gaze boring into the silver-haired one. This isn’t right.

“Wait a second,” said Seidou. “There’s supposed to be eight that make it, right?”

“Yes,” confirmed Akise.

“Then – if you’re here now, doesn’t that make nine?”

Yukine and Yukiteru exchanged glances. Their looks said the same thing: Not this again.

A-ya glanced at Seidou. He was right, of course. And that’s why… He prepared to pull the scissors on Akise, feeling the vague tingling of electricity beginning to charge up.

“I’m not a player,” Akise explained. “Nor have I ever been. If it were a problem, I don’t think we’d be able to enter the tower through this tunnel here anyway.”

“So,” said Yukine, “you just… don’t count?”

Akise shrugged. “I guess not. But I’ll take it. Might as well be glad.”

“No kidding,” scoffed Izaya. “You’ve got a free pass.”

Slowly, A-ya released the grip on his scissors, eyes narrowing.

“And A-ya-kun,” said Akise, friendly as ever, “I’m glad to know that you’ve made it after all. When I’d left the screens behind, you were still unconscious.”

A-ya averted his eyes. “Yeah.”

Izaya looked to the dark-clad boy, trying to gather what was going through A-ya’s head.

“So, ah…” Seidou ran a hand through his white locks. “You guys’ve had your reunions and whatever. He’s explained himself. Can we go on ahead yet?”

“The only way to go is forward,” Kaneki agreed. The tunnel yawned beyond Akise, inviting them underground. A light gust of cool air beckoned them. Uncomfortably, Shintaro swallowed. The path seemed rather daunting. Sniffing the air, Kincho raised his head, turning his nose to the dimly-lit passageway. Grunting, he jumped from Akise’s shoulder and scrabbled forward, heading off through the tunnel.

“Ah, Kincho!” Rika’s call didn’t stop the armadillo. She felt a bit unnerved; this was too similar to when Kincho had led them to Yoh Takami’s body—and that didn’t end too well. She met eyes with Akise, who seemed to be thinking the same thing. But he shrugged, and they all silently agreed to start forward. All they could do was follow the animal. The lights overhead were dim at first; yellow and worn.

“What sort of things do you think they’ll have as obstacles, um—Akise?” asked Yukine. He had no recollection of who Akise was, as he hadn’t shown up until after he’d died. Granted, Kaneki had never met him either, and Seidou had only a vague recollection of when he’d blindly raided his group, so he wasn’t alone.

“I can’t be altogether sure,” Akise admitted. “I only saw the small portion of the tower where I was held… And even though I’ve met four game masters, and spoken with two more, none of them told me anything about extra trials after winning the game.”

“They’re really persistent, they are,” uttered Hanyuu.

“Not wanting it to end,” agreed Rika.

“So, you think we could die in these trials?” asked Yukki. “That’s just unfair.”

“I wouldn’t be all too surprised if it were actually a sort of group effort exercise,” said Kaneki. “And if we take too long, they get bored and we lose. The game resets.”

“So, a time limit?” frowned Yukine.

“A group effort?” asked Shintaro. “Oh, no…”

“After all this, you can’t be serious,” said Seidou, brow furrowed.

Izaya laughed thinly, limping along. “Kane-kun may be right. If the real point of the game was cooperation the whole time, then it would only make sense that the final trial would be one testing that aspect of our dynamic.”

“Exactly,” said Kaneki.

“Well, if that’s it,” said Yukiteru, “I don’t think we’ll do too bad! Right, A-ya?”

“Mm.”

“We’re gonna have to do good,” grumbled Yukine. “That means no more bickering. I’m talking to you guys,” he added with a pointed look at Izaya and Seidou.

“I don’t like him,” said Seidou.

“And I don’t like dogs,” said Izaya.

There was a pause. Shintaro grimaced.

Seidou’s tone went flat. “What did you just say.”

“Whoops,” said Izaya. “I think I made him mad.”

“Seidou,” said Shintaro quickly, “calm down, okay? It’s fine. Don’t let him get to you… He just thinks it’s funny when people get angry.”

“There’s a reason,” spat Seidou, “that I don’t like him.”

Yukine sighed heavily. “You didn’t before you forgot him, either.”

“Really? Good.”

“I think it in our best interest,” said Rika, “for us to get along as best we can. Yukine is right; there is no use arguing now.”

“Yeah, c’mon, Izaya,” said Yukiteru. “You know better than to prod at him.”

Izaya scoffed. “Do I?”

“And here I thought maybe you’d become nicer, or something,” Yukine grumbled.

“Hah.” Izaya darkened a bit. “Of course I wouldn’t. I’d think you’d know better, Yukine-kun…”

“Oh, cut it out with that tone,” Yukine huffed. “You and Yato are alike in that way… You’ve both got a nasty part that never goes away, but it’s not like you’re inherently bad.”

“Hmm.”

“It’s okay, Izaya,” said Yukiteru brightly. “All of us here, we’ll stick together. We’re a team, and we’ll take care of one another. I’m not entirely sure about Seidou, but, uh…”

“I think he still wants you dead,” commented A-ya quietly.

“Damn right,” agreed Seidou.

“But that’s all just residual bitterness,” the dark-clad one shrugged. “I think maybe we all have a little bit of that…” He trailed off, staring intently at Akise.

“Seidou,” said Rika, “it’s better not to harbor that.”

“I’m stubborn, and he’s an asshole.” Seidou shrugged, unapologetic.

“Seidou, please,” sighed Shintaro. He redirected his attention to Akise. “So then, you got to technically meet six of the masters. What were they like?”

Akise pondered this. “How do you mean?”

It was Shintaro’s turn to think. “I…”

“How were they all related to one another?” asked Yukine. “Like, who are they? Do we know that?”

“I don’t think we’ve established relationships,” said Rika, now curious.

“Indeed,” said Hanyuu, “what manner of entity are they?”

“They seem to have their loyalties between one another,” mused Kaneki.

“But where did it all come from?” said Yukki.

“Well,” said Akise, “I’ve gathered some interesting familial relations. Muse and Durden are siblings, according to Rainbow.”

Siblings?” repeated Shintaro.

“Yes,” confirmed Akise. “Following that, Seraph is Durden’s daughter.”

“Father and daughter,” repeated Kaneki faintly.

“And Seraph was one on our side, though, right?” asked Yukine.

“Yes,” said Akise.

“And Durden’s the asshole that we just talked to outside, right?” said Seidou, lip curling in distaste.

“Uh, yes,” said Shintaro.

“That is admittedly curious,” said Kaneki. “Siblings… Parent, and child…”

“And,” added Akise, “my theory right now is that Muse exerting some kind of control over the rest of them. Knowing that all the game masters have purple eyes… But at that time, when Greyson’s turned green…”

“But, wait,” said Shintaro. “Aureus – his eyes were gold.”

“Oh, yeah!” exclaimed Yukki. “That’s right – they were, weren’t they?”

Akise brought a hand to his chin, thinking deeply. “That only adds onto my theory of him being the ‘traitor.’ Him ‘knowing the Truth,’ and all…”

“So do you think… hm.” Yukiteru shifted in pace. “If we help the rest of the game masters snap out of it, then do you think they’ll help us overthrow Muse and end the game?”

“And then maybe we can go home?” Shintaro added hopefully.

A-ya glanced at the NEET. The thought of going home didn’t seem all too great to him. He looked at Yukiteru. That was right – if they went home, he’d probably never see Yukiteru again, either… He took a deep breath, releasing it slowly.

“I wonder just how much will actually change,” remarked Izaya. “What trope will we follow?”

Yukine squinted at him. “Meaning…?”

Kaneki nodded. “That’s right. We could go back home as if nothing happened and either remember everything, changing our futures… Or, we could forget everything, and it will all be erased… Worse, we could go back, and all those that have died will remain dead…”

“Or, like,” said Shintaro nervously, “our realities fracture and we’re left with nothing. This is all just a post-apocalyptic story. Our worlds have ended already, and we’re doomed either way… Aha…”

“I… hope that is not the case,” said Rika. “Although it is true that I, like you, am to return home to a time loop.”

“Yeah…”

“Me too,” said A-ya, and they both looked at him.

“Wait,” said Shintaro. “Really?”

The dark-clad boy nodded slightly, averting his eyes again. “Saeru told me that he could tell, being in my head and all. Even if I can’t remember any of it.”

“Wow, that’s horrible,” sighed Shintaro. “I’m sorry.”

“On that note,” said A-ya, “what if we’re already home? And we’re all just parallel versions of ourselves that will cease to exist once the game ends?”

“Wow, that’s…” Yukine shoved his hands in his pockets, mildly uncomfortable.

“That won’t happen,” said Izaya firmly. “We’ll be given a prize – there’s no way that ceasing to exist is a prize.”

“It might be to someone who has longed for oblivion,” said Kaneki quietly.

“We’re starting to get a little dark, here,” said Yukine nervously.

“For fuck’s sake, we don’t need a depression trip,” griped Seidou. “I like the apocalypse theory.”

By now the dim lights overhead had been replaced with a line of white fluorescents, and Kincho was far ahead enough that they couldn’t see nor hear him anymore. Ahead, they could make out double doors. At this point they were unsure how long they’d been walking, and it was a rather promising sight. They reached a line crossing the floor in front of them, the point afterwards sloping upwards to the door, one of which was cracked open. As they crossed it, the group gave a start as Rika yelped in alarm. The rest turned to her as she wheeled around to look at the line they’d crossed, and then at the tunnel they’d left behind.

“Rika-chan?” Akise inquired. “What’s wrong?”

“Hanyuu,” she said, her small voice carrying traces of panic. “Where is Hanyuu?

The atmosphere shifted to one of alarm.

“Maybe,” suggested A-ya, “she couldn’t come along because she made ‘nine players.’”

“But she is a part of me,” Rika protested. “Hanyuu and I are one and the same – that does not make sense—that is so…”

“Calm down,” said Kaneki, soothing.

“Maybe all there is to do is continue without her,” said Izaya soberly.

She turned on him. “I will not see the ending we’ve waited so long for without her.

Izaya raised his hands in a show of peace, nonplussed.

“If, um…” Shintaro cleared his throat, mustering up his courage to speak to someone so distraught. Seidou was different – he was always distraught. Rika generally… wasn’t. And she was scary, for a ten-year-old. “If she’s actually gone, then wouldn’t it be better to see the end? Because… she’d want you to see it?”

Rika looked hurt, but she considered his words. “I… I apologize for speaking out of turn. But couldn’t there be a way for her to come along? Is she alright? This is abnormal…”

“She’s not coming back,” said a smooth voice from behind the door. Everyone came to attention as someone swung it forward on its hinges, revealing the face of the one who could only be Greyson. They ran a hand through silver locks that were swept over their green-rimmed glasses. There was their rainbow-colored kerchief around their neck, their black vest and purple t-shirt underneath, black pants, and dress shoes. “Sorry,” they said. “I figured I could speed it up a little bit.” Their violet eyes flickered with hidden excitement. “You can come in, you know.” They smiled mischievously at Akise. “Welcome back.”

Everyone looked to Akise, who had looked to Rika to confirm whether it was alright to continue. “Let us go,” Rika said stiffly, and they obliged to Grey’s invitation. They entered into the living space that Akise had described: white tiles eventually obscured by a carpet of purple. The walls were suspiciously bare of any posters.

Already inside was the one that had to be Rainbow, fluffy locks of… well, rainbow hues making up their hairdo. They cradled Kincho in their arms, cooing to him: “You’re a good armadillo, yes you are~

The eight glanced at one another. Seidou looked disgusted. But he tended to look like that, so it was nothing new.

Akise only put his hands in his pockets. “I thought that you’d gone out before me?”

“We met up with Durden,” Grey explained. “He got us here.”

Shintaro pointed at Rainbow. “You! I saw you!”

Rainbow froze, then pointed at themselves. “Me?

“Yes, you! You were in the hospital! We weren’t hallucinating!”

“Oh yeah,” remarked Seidou, crossing his arms over his chest. “Real great of ya, disappearing like that. Real nice.”

“Well, thanks,” Rain said with some sarcasm, and Kincho leapt from their arms, scuffling over to Grey and pawing at their pant leg. “After all…” They put their hands on their hips – they wore a tank top of blue and purple, black leggings, converse… and of course, a grey kerchief. “…I am the reason you two aren’t all fucked up by that Harrowing Blade anymore. You too, Kaneki. Some thanks are in order.”

Grey just stared down at the armadillo, lost in thought.

“Then you must be bonds of the heart?” inquired Kaneki, touching his chin.

“Yes, we are!” Rain chirped. “I’m all about connections: falling in love, forming friendships… You know, fluffy stuff!”

“I was so excited for this moment,” said Grey, almost mournful. They rubbed at the back of their head. “But it just feels the same as ever.”

“Okay, I’m sorry,” said Yukine gruffly, “but can you just tell us what it is we’ve gotta do?”

Yukine!” Rainbow cried in delight, and the Shinki took a step back in surprise. He waited expectantly for Rainbow to elaborate, but it seems squeaking his name was all they wanted to say.

“Don’t get me wrong,” smiled Grey with a mischievous light in their purple eyes, “I’m still really happy to meet you all. Sorry we’re bad at the greeting process—we’ve never done it before. But…” Eyes widening along with their smile, Grey approached A-ya, who stared up at them with equally wide eyes. “Aw… Look, Rain, he’s not possessed anymore… Such a cutie…” Grey proceeded to pinch A-ya’s cheeks, squishing them together joyously.

“Um… hey,” said Yukiteru nervously.

“Not that you weren’t cute possessed, too,” they added.

“Grey, stop that,” snipped Rain, coming behind Grey and taking them by the shoulder. A-ya took the opportunity to pull himself away, looking absolutely offended as he rubbed at one of his cheeks. “You’ll break him!”

“What, because I break everything?” Grey asked dully.

“Well—yes! You know that!”

“I don’t break everything…” Grey looked over at everyone and smiled eerily. “Introductions are a good idea, huh? Rainbow here is connections and the mushy stuff. I, Greyson, am all about breaking those ties. I’m… Let’s see.” They looked around at everyone. “I am Hanyuu, vanishing,” they said slowly, eyeing Rika. “I’m Akira, turning away,” they said to Seidou. They looked at Kaneki. “I am your isolation, and Yukine, I am your lost memories of life. I am Yukiteru’s cowardice, his lonely logic, but I’m also Akise’s martyrdom. Izaya… I am Shizuo turning his back to you; I am Shinra’s – Twelve’s disappointment; I am the ones who gave up on your humanity; I am Yato dismissing your existence; I am A-ya, forgetting your very name…” They clasped their hands together, caught in the moment. “I am your doubt, A-ya – the reason your relationship with C-ta was nothing more than ‘another missed call,’ as you said. I am your helplessness, and your rotten nihilism; the picture of purposelessness!”

Greyson paused. Everyone had gone different shades of uncomfortable. “But,” said the game master, pointing to Shintaro. “…I am also the reason you could move on. The past can’t escape tomorrow.”

Shintaro tugged at his scarf, swallowing. “Um, so… A-are you nice, or not?”

Greyson burst into laughter at that.

“Not everything is as it seems,” admitted Rainbow, lifting themselves on their tip-toes, bouncing on the balls of their feet. They twined their fingers together. “I’m connection, love, faith, and passion… But you know what that means? I’m also rivalry, jealousy, and hate.” They sought out a particular pair in the group, and smiled meaningfully at Yukiteru and A-ya. “I am obsession.

Yukiteru took an unwitting step back.

Everyone was on high alert, but there was nothing to be said, nor done. The situation still just seemed too… casual. It was A-ya who spoke up. “So, do you guys know what we’re supposed to do from here, or not? What’s the next step – or are you placed here to stall us?”

“Yeah,” agreed Yukiteru, standing firm. “H…how do we end the game?”

“I don’t know how to end it, are you kidding?” said Rain.

The tension spiked.

“But we know where you need to go,” said Grey.

…And then the tension quelled.

“Alright, shoot,” said Seidou impatiently.

“You go up the tower,” said Rain.

“There are…” Grey paused, counting on their fingers. “…six levels you have to pass through. Seven? No, six. Yeah. Six.”

“Each one,” – Rain held up a single finger – “…has a different task.”

“Each task has been left by a different game master.”

“If you pass through every level…”

“…and you make it to the top…”

They trailed off, looking at everyone expectantly. “…we reach the end,” finished Shintaro.

“The End,” murmured Kaneki.

“And, is it that you know what happened to Hanyuu?” asked Rika, tone flat.

“Different entity,” shrugged Grey. “Because of her intangibility, she was kept in-game, but here in the tower, different rules apply.”

“We don’t know why,” added Rain. “Muse is kinda picky, but we love them anyway.”

Rika closed her eyes. “Thank you very much.” Polite though she was, she didn’t seem genuinely grateful for the explanation.

“You just need to head upstairs, that way,” said Rainbow, pointing to a door to the side.

“All the doors should be unlocked now,” added Greyson.

“Any idea what sort of tasks they’ll be?” asked Yukiteru, sounding nervous.

“Uh…” Grey glanced at Rain. “…no.”

“Good luck,” Rain chirped, and Grey was kind enough to go over and hold open the door for them. They filed in, and no one could deny the unease in the atmosphere despite all this casualness… or perhaps because of it.

“Okay, this is just messed,” grumbled Seidou once the door was closed behind them, and they’d passed by the room that had served as Akise’s prison. “It’s too weird. They’ve got a welcoming committee; this is too easy.”

“I don’t know that I’d consider that ‘welcoming,’” mumbled Yukiteru.

“I say enjoy this lull while it lasts,” remarked Izaya grimly. “Some masters may be kind enough to go easy on us, but who knows what sorts of things lay ahead.”

For once, Seidou didn’t argue with him.

“What if it’s a trap?” asked Yukine nervously.

“There’s no use leading us into a trap now,” said Kaneki. He sounded like he believed it, too. “What sort of ending would that be?”

“Perhaps one where reset is inevitable,” said Rika, “and there is no end.”

“Uh…” Shintaro didn’t like that idea. Neither did anyone else.

“Well, all we can do is keep on, if we can help it,” said Akise, and they did. The stairs were ahead.

 

Chapter 110: Symbolism & Plot

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

 

The first room was pure white with purple trim, gold designs inlaid higher up on the walls and bordering the ceiling. There was a large screen on the righthand wall. As the door closed behind them, they heard it lock.

“Oh,” Shintaro grimaced. “That can’t be good.”

The screen flickered to life, revealing the freckled face of Aureus, golden eyes sparkling. “Hi, guys!” he greeted, waving his hand on-screen in greeting. The lack of lag helped make this effective.

“Aureus!” exclaimed Yukiteru and Shintaro in unison. They sounded relieved.

“Oh,” remarked A-ya, “they gave you a floor after all.”

Aureus pouted, sticking out his lower lip. “You were so nice. What happened?” A-ya raised his eyebrows, but the game master quickly spoke before he could answer, “Don’t—I know. I’m sorry. Possession and all that good stuff. Um. Welcome to my floor!” He spun around in his swivel chair, grabbing some papers on the way. He straightened them by tapping them on his legs, then scratched at his golden-haired head. “Now, how do I wanna start this…”

“You could just let us through,” suggested Shintaro hopefully, and Aureus blinked at him.

“Shin-ta-ro,” he chided, “where would the symbolism be in that?”

The others glanced at one another. Seidou’s jaw was tight with annoyance.

“Hey, um…” It was Yukine that spoke up, his voice low. He intended to only address his fellow players, plus Akise. “Is it just me, or do these game masters look… like, really ordinary?”

“That’s all about perspective, Yukine!” said Aureus cheerily. “Now, don’t call me ordinary again or I’ll kick your butt!

“How?” Yukine protested. “From what I’ve heard, you’re stuck underground!”

Aureus clucked his tongue, leaning over and pressing a button. Yukine dodged a large rock that fell from the ceiling just in time, and it crashed to the tiled floor instead, making the ground quake with its force. Everyone looked at the screen with more alarm. “Like that,” said Aureus. He then made a splatting sound, shoving his hands together for more effect.

“I… thought you were on our side?” Yukki said tentatively.

“I am! I totally am,” he agreed. “There’s just rules I’ve gotta follow.” He smiled, but it looked more like a grimace. “If I don’t follow orders then I’m screwed. Screwed! It’s horrible. I hate Muse.” He paused, festering. “I can go pretty easy on you, though. That wasn’t going to hit you, Yukine. I’m gonna accidentally miss every time.” He touched his index finger to his crooked nose with a playful smile. “Because my aim sucks, okay?”

“I coulda gotten crushed,” said Yukine, ruffled. “That was pretty close for having bad aim.”

“Yeah,” said Aureus. “I was aiming away from you!”

An uneasiness settled over them. That didn’t make them feel very good about this. “It’s alright,” assured Kaneki. He got his kagune out. “I can prevent any stray stones from hurting any of you.”

“Now!” Aureus recaptured their attention. “I’ll be giving nine riddles, one for each of you except for Akise—the last one’s for all of you! Anyone can help with anyone’s riddle, but uh… if someone says a wrong answer, they get a falling ceiling. Three tries for each, or the ceiling literally collapses and you’re screwed. I really don’t think you’ll even need it, because you have some freakin’ geniuses on your team, but hey.” He shrugged. “In fact, why don’t I make it three wrong answers overall? You guy’s’ll be fine! Right?”

“Um,” began Yukiteru, but Aureus only continued.

“Alright! First one’s for Kaneki! Kaneki, step forward, please!”

Kaneki, drawing his lips into a thin line, stepped up and away from his group, looking with an unwavering, hollow gaze up into the screen. “I’m ready, Game Master Aureus.”

Aureus looked at him with shining eyes. “So polite—this guy respects me! Look at that! I wish I’d gotten to meet you properly.”

“I don’t mean to rush you, but could you tell me the riddle?” said Kaneki patiently.

“Right, right, of course!” Aureus cleared his throat, looking at the papers in hand. “You have a pretty easy one: I have a spine, front and back, but bones and face are what I lack. What am I?”

“Easy?” repeated Yukine. “I can’t do riddles… What if he gives me a hard one?”

“This is stupid,” muttered Seidou.

“This might be the best task we’ll get,” pointed out Shintaro. “Give him a break. I’m just glad this isn’t a physical task.”

“Yeah,” Seidou conceded. “Then you’d be screwed.”

“Aha, yeah… Exactly.”

Kaneki’s brow was furrowed. He touched his chin. This is almost… too easy, he thought worriedly. Is it a trick? No… “Well… that’s a book,” he said simply.

“Correct!” said Aureus, pleased.

“See, Yukine?” said Yukiteru. “We’ll be fine if we have Kaneki here.”

“Yeah…” The spirit relaxed a bit. “I guess you’re right.”

As if on cue, a line of tiles began to rise from the floor, bisecting the room and beginning to cut Kaneki off from the rest of them. Everyone looked to Aureus on-screen, but he looked equally shocked. A voice, the Voice, was projected through the room on the same speakers. “Jolly good show!” cried the one who could only be Muse. “Now that Kaneki has completed his riddle, he’ll be on the other side of this wall. For each subsequent correct answer, that player will join him! Once everyone’s on the other side, the ninth riddle can be presented, and the door to the next floor will unlock upon its solution!” They paused, as if considering something. “Of course, Akise can move between rooms at will, but he cannot relay information. In fact… he’s not allowed to help.” Akise looked ready to protest to this, but they just said, “Good luck, everyone!” and with a click, there was silence again.

Aureus looked downright pissed.

Yukine looked around at who was left. “Shintaro’s smart,” assured Yukiteru. “And so’s A-ya. We’ll be fine, see?”

“Alright…,” said Aureus slowly. “Next is Shintaro.”

The NEET swallowed and stepped forward. He glanced back to the two Yukis, apologetic. “Uh, yeah?”

“Here’s yours: My first two are male, and my first three female. My first four save them both, and my whole is a female of some sort. Hint: think English.”

Shintaro opened his mouth, and closed it again. He knew his history books pretty well, and he did speak fluent English, so that was a plus. His photographic memory was useful here. My whole is female… My first four save them… A mother? Think English… “Um… Queen Victoria?” he guessed, his voice quavering. “W-wait—wait, no—”

“Wrong,” said Aureus sullenly. He pressed the button.

Shintaro stiffened, unsure whether he should dodge or not. Instead he fell into a crouch, covering his head as he cowered. He heard crumbling and clattering. When he peeked back into the light of the room, he saw that Seidou had destroyed the rock that was going to come down on him. “For fuck’s sake, what the hell was that, Shintaro?!” he cried. “You’re supposed to be a genius! Prove it!

“I-I…” Seidou helped him to his feet, and he stood there unsteadily. He heard the others whispering behind him about what it might be, but they seemed as unsure as him – ‘them’ being Rika, A-ya, and the Yukis. None of them knew English, so they were lost.

“I’m fluent in English, you know,” said Izaya, hands in his pockets. Shintaro and Seidou looked back at him. Shintaro felt a wave of gratitude for Izaya. “He probably means the language, not the history. If I were this symbolism guy, I’d make sure that each answer was somehow symbolically significant to the player he’s designated it to.”

“Then…” Shintaro thought deeply on it. My first two male, and my first three female… That doesn’t make sense, does it? That means the first two are both male and female? Think English, think English… The language… The answer is either a word or phrase… ‘My first’… what is it referring to? Words, or letters? Think.

If it’s letters… My first two are male: he. First three female: her. So the first three letters are ‘her.’ My first four save them all… He felt a pit in his stomach. ‘Hero.’

“How you doing, Shintaro?” Aureus asked tentatively.

“Ayano,” he murmured.

“I’m sorry?”

“Um…” He raised his voice so the items master could hear him. “The answer is ‘heroine.’”

The others looked at one another, save for Izaya and Akise. Izaya smiled at the red-scarfed one – now that was more like it. Akise’s eyebrows rose; he was impressed, though his spirits were yet dampened by his inability to partake in this challenge.

Shintaro was shooed off to the room with Kaneki by the Aureus displayed on-screen. The half-ghoul waiting for him on the other side asked a silent question with worried eyes.

“Um, strike one of three.” Shintaro scratched at his head. “B-but… I’m sure it’ll be okay.”

Next up was Yukine. The poor spirit was horrified stepping up to the designated tile where Shintaro had stood, and also where the NEET had been almost crushed by a rock.

“Alright, Yukine,” said Aureus, “yours is a logic riddle.”

“A logic riddle?” Yukine repeated. He had his hands shoved in his pockets, standing firm and looking perpetually annoyed as his defense. “Alright, get it over with already, then.”

The golden game master shrugged. “Here you go: A man is looking at a photograph. When asked who it is, he replies, ‘Brothers and sisters, I have none. But that boy’s father is my father’s son.’ Who is in the picture?”

Yukine’s eyes narrowed as he half-stared, half-glared up at the screen. What…?

“Do you need me to repeat it?”

Yukine said yes, and he did. That boy’s father is my father’s son, Yukine repeated. His father is my father’s son… If I can just wrap my head around this, it should be easy. He closed his eyes. If ‘that boy’s’ father is the son of my father, wouldn’t that make the speaker the dad? Wait – what if it’s his nephew? Yukine opened his eyes, enlightened. But he said he had no brothers or sisters! “It’s his son, isn’t it? The boy in the picture—it’s… his son…” He looked down to the ground. He felt like he should be proud when Aureus confirmed it was correct, but instead he felt rather hollow. He went to join Shintaro and Kaneki in silence, glancing back only to give Yukiteru a half-hearted smile upon his excited exclamations following his correct answer.

He’d looked back in time to see Izaya say, “Nice, kid.”

Despite it being Izaya, he’d felt a little better.

It was Yukiteru next. “I know you’ll do fine,” said Akise. “You just shouldn’t doubt yourself.”

Yukiteru nodded. He knew that even if Akise couldn’t help him, and he couldn’t figure it out, he had A-ya and Izaya to help him if he really needed it. “Go ahead, Aureus. Tell it to me.”

“I appreciate your enthusiasm!” Aureus said brightly, shuffling his papers. “Let’s see… Yours is Kaneki-style easy, alright? Here goes: Until I am measured, I am not known, yet how you miss me when I have flown.

Yukiteru’s brow furrowed. Miss me when I’ve flown… He looked down at himself. Um, is it time? Because that feels a little bit too simple. He felt doubt creeping into his thoughts, but the moment he identified it as doubt, he shook his head, looked at Aureus, and said, “Is it time?”

“Yup! Go on ahead to the others, now; you’re all set!”

Surprised, Yukiteru gave A-ya an assuring look before following after the three on the other side. Akise offered the cloaked one a smile of praise, and A-ya gave the boy detective a sidelong glance.

“A-ya? You’re up,” said the game master.

A-ya stepped forward. He could feel Rika and Akise at his back; Seidou and Izaya, too. He took a deep breath, releasing it slowly.

“You have my favorite, A-ya,” said Aureus, giddy. “It’s another logic one.”

“Okay,” said A-ya flatly.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

A-ya frowned up at the screen. He was glad that Aureus could see him, because he backpedaled, apologized, and started reading from his papers again: “Okay, okay… You’ve just died. There are two gates, one to heaven and one to hell. An angel and demon each guard their posts – they look identical, and you cannot tell one from the other. The angel speaks only truth, the demon only lies. You know not which way to go to reach heaven. You get one question. What do you ask them to find the truth?

A-ya stared at him. What do I…? His blank stare began to transform into a glower. “That’s the wrong question to ask,” A-ya said lowly. Yeah, he knew how to logic out the answer if he thought on it, but he was too annoyed by the premise of the riddle itself to say so. Symbolic of the player it represents, huh? What kind of joke are you playing, Aureus?

“What?” said Aureus.

“Lies and truths don’t exist,” A-ya said firmly.

“A-ya-kun,” said Izaya, “I don’t know that your ‘lies and truths’ argument can much help you here… As much as I love that idea of yours, it might not fit the riddle.”

Sure it didn’t, because angels and demons have already been specified to speak only lies or only truths. By a logical standpoint, it was a valid riddle with a valid premise of solid ‘lies’ and solid ‘truths.’ A-ya knew his idea of reality only worked with humans who were inconsistent in their manner of communication. It was the way the world worked. But…

“Wait a sec, why don’t they exist?” asked Seidou, squinting at A-ya.

“There are only ‘things that sound like lies,’ and ‘things that sound like truths,’” said A-ya, closing his eyes.

“Because as people, if we believe what we’re told, it becomes true,” said Izaya.

“Well then, the riddle’s bullshit,” Seidou said, crossing his arms, eyes half-lidded and lip slightly curled in his exasperation.

“Perhaps,” said Akise, brow furrowed, “it would be best not to argue with our challenger?”

“I don’t wish for the ceiling to fall and kill us all, that is so,” said Rika dully.

“I might have to take their side this time, A-ya-kun,” Izaya said apologetically.

I take A-ya’s side,” said Seidou matter-of-factly, and the others, including A-ya, looked at him with some perplexity.

On-screen, Aureus blinked in bemusement.

Seidou pointed at the items master, accusatory. “Look here, his logic follows the idea of perspective. Am I wrong?”

“No,” said Aureus.

“So in his perspective, or mine, or anyone that’s listening – how do we know for sure that an angel really speaks only truths, and the demon really only lies? What if that’s only your perspective?”

Aureus furrowed his brow. “Now, listen here, Seidou—”

“Maybe to us, the demon tells the truth sometimes! Maybe he tells the truth all too painfully clearly. And maybe, maybe the angel lies sometimes, when the truth’s too cruel. What about that?”

“That’s not the point—”

“I think all your points are stupid!” snapped the half-ghoul. “We don’t need to be going through this riddle bullshit – after everything else we had to go through? Come on! This is pointless is what it is!”

Slowly, Aureus lowered his papers. The four around Seidou were all looking at the half-ghoul with an array of alarm, confusion, and blank surprise. “Well then, Seidou…” the game master said carefully, “…what is it that makes it pointless? Why not do this?”

Seidou frowned into the screen displaying Aureus’s face. Aureus frowned right back. It was very quiet. Then Seidou said, “Because symbolism is nothing but meanings, and nothing has meaning. The only reason anything has meaning is because people make shit mean something. Symbolism doesn’t exist – we make it exist, because everyone would be fucking depressed if there was no meaning. Well, let me tell you: no symbol has inherent meaning to it. No symbol has some kind of innate power or anything like that. It only has power if we people give it to the symbol. Those things you name as symbols don’t really mean anything but themselves.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “And that’s why I’m not partaking in this stupid game – I’m not giving it meaning.”

The silence following was static. A-ya gathered a sense of respect for this half-ghoul. Maybe the two of them really were alike, in some way. He felt a vague desire to have met him when both of them still felt human.

“You’re correct,” said Aureus, turning ninety degrees in his swivel chair to set down his papers. “That’s it, Seidou. The ninth riddle. You’ve got me.” He raised his hands into the air. “You’re all dismissed.”

“Is it that… this floor is cleared?” asked Rika, tentative.

“Yup,” said Aureus. “You guys can all go to the next floor now. Should be unlocked.” He seemed rather mournful. “You can go on ahead.”

“Wait—really?” Seidou stared at him in stupefaction, lacking words. “What?

“I say take it before any minds are changed,” said Akise, ushering him and Rika forward.

“Wow~ Nice one there, Seidou-kun,” said Izaya, mildly impressed. “I have to say, I thought your fast-forwarding diminished that festering intellect of yours. I’m glad I was wrong!”

“Oh, fuck you…,” grumbled Seidou.

A-ya looked back at the screen once more before they headed to the room between here and the next level. “The answer, by the way, is this: ‘If I ask what leads to heaven, what would the other point to?’ Both of them would point to hell.”

Aureus, though he did not give answer, lit up, shooting him a double-thumbs-up as he beamed at the dark-clad boy.

“Thank you. For everything,” said A-ya.

“All a part o’ the job, good sir!” he said, and A-ya at last turned to join the rest in the next room, and beyond.


They talked about how the first ‘level’ had ended – it was apparently quite the controversy. Yukine was particularly miffed, claiming that it was all a farce and completely unnecessary for them to have to go through all that when Seidou’s irritated outburst had gotten them out without a problem. Shintaro was mildly bothered by all the trouble they’d gone through too, but instead chose to focus on praising Seidou for thinking outside of the box like that. Seidou only grumbled that it wasn’t anything special, just the way things were. He must have earned some points on A-ya’s rapport, too, since the quiet kid actually made remarks to him on the stairwell. Even Izaya treated him a little bit better, not that it made the half-ghoul like that informant any more. And anyway, Seidou was still trying to wrap his head around what had just happened and why it was such a big deal. He was just sick of all the symbolism – he was sick of all of everything, really. What was so profound about that? He was just simplifying things as they really were.

Well, for the most part everyone was just glad they’d passed through the first stage, so in the end it didn’t really matter much.

Ascending to the next level, they found a similarly painted room of white and purple, this one with designs of silver. Much of the back and right walls were littered with boxes upon boxes, be it wooden crates or regular cardboard. It was hard to make everything out at first, however: the room was dark; unlit. “Greyson, maybe?” suggested Yukki, remarking upon the silver lining, but as the lights flickered dimly to life upon their entry, the door closing and locking behind them, they could make out not Greyson, but Durden waiting for them.

“Durden?” said Rika.

“That’s me,” agreed the game master. He crossed his arms over his chest, smirk playing over his mouth and stretching his goatee just slightly. “Congrats, you made it past level one. I’m not gonna say it gets harder as you go – this isn’t a video game, even if me and Shintaro want it to be – right, kid?”

Durden looked at him, and Shintaro felt as though he’d shrivel away. Maybe he did.

“No, it’s gonna be different for everyone.” The game master looked meaningfully at them all. “Everyone does stuff their own way; you all do stuff differently from each other, and so do we. Some of you will think that one master is easier on you, but another one of you will think that they were rough. Your difficulty levels work on an individual basis here, so there’s no one way to do it. My advice: just don’t do dumb shit.

“Now. Before you try out this level,” said the bald game master, “I want to say something kinda important. Maybe even thought-provoking.” He spread his arms. “We game masters—we’re people too. Don’t go dehumanizing us… Well, don’t go de-people-izing us, I guess. We may be mysterious… Hell, maybe I’m just a figure of someone’s idealized imagination. But you know, with how little I know about myself, I can at least disclose this much: I know… that I don’t know… who I am. What makes me feel good, or feel like shit, I couldn’t tell you. I am evil to the core…” He shrugged. “…but I’m also not. I’m emotional, and I’m apathetic. What I save I kill, but at the same time, I still try to save it. I do what I’m not supposed to… and I fight those urges at the same time.

“If there’s anything I can say for myself, it’s this: I hate reality. I don’t know when or why it happened, but it did. And I think that, somewhere along the line, I figured that if I went nuts I wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore. That must have been when I lost myself. I tried to break me, over and over and over again… But I always came back. I always came back. I was broken, yeah, but I was unbreakable. Nothing could shake me, and yet my foundation was shaken at its roots, no, I didn’t even have roots. I’m nothing but a rotten contradiction, always asking myself who it is that lives inside this meat sack of a body.” He thudded a fist against his lower abdomen as if to demonstrate said meat sack.

His eyes narrowed as he looked around at the nine in front of him. “I think I’ve let off enough steam. Thanks for hearing me out. You’re at least good at pretending to listen.” He smiled lopsidedly, reaching in his pocket and removing his hand again, holding a small remote.

“What is that?” Rika asked warily.

He didn’t answer the question, but he directed his smile to her. “Sorry, kid. Here are the rules of my game. No god-powers. No lightning cat-hero bullshit. No ghoul-y stuff. No badass spirit techniques. We’re all painfully human, this round. He pressed the only button on the remote, and a low hissing sound filled the room. Upon the anxious inspection of the players, they saw that the entire wall at their left thin line parallel to the ground—an opening from which the hissing originated.

Akise realized what was going on. “Everyone, cover your mouths and noses!”

It was too late for A-ya, with his weak lungs. He choked, holding his hand over his mouth and nose, his eyes and chest felt like they were on fire. He squeezed his eyes shut, but they still teared up. Shintaro, despite his weak respiratory system, was only okay because he’d already happened to have his scarf around the lower half of his face.

“And,” said Durden, holding up a single finger, “…if any of the ghouls try and use their kagune, I’ll start mixing RC Suppressants into the air, too. And you don’t want that. The goal of this room is simple: get out alive.” He flashed a cold smile.

“Why, you—!” Seidou lunged for the game master, but right then the bald one was dropped down a trapdoor, the floor closing up behind him. They could hear his laughter resounding.

“We need to find a way out, and fast,” said Kaneki, pulling up the fabric of his vest for protection. “Everyone, start looking for a way.”

“It looks like we might have fifteen minutes, if that,” said Akise, a kerchief from his pocket to his face.

“It wouldn’t be obvious, would it?” tried Yukine, using his hoodie for protection as he hurried over to the opposite door. It didn’t open for him – locked.

“Maybe we need to find the key?” suggested Yukiteru, holding up his cloak to his face. He scrabbled over to the cardboard boxes and started rummaging.

This better not be the way out,” uttered Seidou, crouching down and trying to pick at where the floor had closed up behind Durden. “Can’t be. Won’t budge. Ya think I can break the door?”

“I mean, you can try,” said Yukine, gesturing for him to go for it.

A-ya, with his vest pulled up; and Shintaro, hand clutching at his scarf; went for searching behind the boxes at the right wall. “A-ya and Shintaro, look for anything obstructed by the crates,” instructed Kaneki. “Seidou can work on the door. Yukine, help Yukiteru with the cardboard boxes. Rika and Izaya – don’t move around too much. Izaya, you’re injured, and Rika-chan, you’re very small, so the gas will affect you faster.” Rika looked bothered, but knew he was right. Izaya looked miffed, and crossed his arms over his chest. “Akise, do you think you might be able to open any of the wooden boxes?”

“I could give it a try,” Akise smiled.

There was the slamming sound as Seidou slammed his fist into the door opposite where they entered, earning a nice, sickening crack. He pulled back immediately after, cradling the hand he’d used to punch the door. He looked deeply offended.

“Di-did that hurt?” asked Shintaro, concerned.

“No,” Seidou sniffed. “I don’t ‘hurt,’ no more. But uh—I can’t move my hand now. I broke it. What the fuck? Fucking door…”

“I found a crowbar!” offered A-ya, who dropped his vest and held his breath just to pick it up and hold it out to the rest.

“Seidou, try it on the door!” called Yukine.

Seidou snatched it from A-ya with his good hand, then tried it. No luck.

“Seidou,” said Akise, “may I? I’ll try and pry open some of those wooden crates.” Disgruntled, Seidou handed it over.

Kaneki went over to the wall that was expelling gas, doing his best not to breathe much. He’d given himself this job because it was the most dangerous, of course. He was trying to tell if, perhaps, there was a way out this way – or at least a way to slow or even stop the flow of gas into the room. He was making himself dizzy being so close to the source, where the gas was most concentrated. It was still dispersing throughout the space, but here it was dense and asphyxiating.

He reached his hand into one of the narrow openings, feeling around. He found the nozzle to whatever was expelling the air that was killing them, and tried to tighten it. He honestly thought he’d made it worse.

He fell to one knee, the world blacking out for a few moments before regaining color again. I can’t stay over here long… Else I’ll be the first one passed out, and then what? I fail everyone. He closed his eyes. There has to be another way.

He felt a tapping on his shoulder, and turned around to see Izaya. Kaneki’s eyes flashed – he’d warned him not to move, let alone come over here… But the informant didn’t have his jacket on, which threw off his frustration. Looking behind Izaya, Kaneki saw Rika with the fur-trimmed jacket, kneeling on the ground with the hoodie pulled to her face, eyes closed.

“The answer’s not going to be there,” said Izaya, offering Kaneki his good hand. Kaneki looked at it, then accepted the help, apologizing as he stood, pulling his vest over his face again. “Oh, stop apologizing already.” After Kaneki was up, Izaya pulled his V-neck over his own mouth and nose, his eyes squinting as if he were smiling. It was especially noticeable now, how his smiles did not reach his eyes. Right now, his red-brown orbs were dark and empty as ever, and they were all that could be seen of his face. “What can I do, then? If you want me a part of your gang, you could at least involve me.” There was a ‘something’ in his eyes. “I’m quite sure that I’m finished with remaining on the sidelines.”

Kaneki closed his eyes momentarily. “Of course…” Examining the room, his eyebrows clinched together. Shintaro and A-ya had moved much of the boxes away from the far corner of where he stood with Izaya. Now A-ya had fallen into a fit of coughing, and even though Shintaro had a concerned hand at his back, Kaneki could tell even from here that Shintaro was unsteady on his feet. Yukine and Yukiteru were better off, but now Yukiteru was expressing his worry for A-ya, running over to make sure he was fine, which of course A-ya assured him he was. Yukine noticed Kaneki watching, and gestured vaguely, shaking his head. Nothing important to be found in the cardboard boxes. He held up a sad wooden stake and a roll of duct tape, shrugging with some exasperation. Akise was opening his third wooden box, and Kaneki watched his expression of curiosity fall to disappointment, then twisting into a stifled grimace as he moved to cover his face again with his sleeve – he’d already given up on trying to use his tiny kerchief. Seidou was examining every crease of the door leading out, looking horribly frustrated even as he fought to maintain patience with his task. Kaneki thought he saw a bit of the Seidou they’d once known in that irritable determination he exuded.

“Akise,” Kaneki called across the room, and the silver-haired one looked at him. “Is there anything in any of those boxes?”

Akise shook his head. “They’re all empty so far.”

“Start taking down the boxes instead of opening them – make them all reachable.”

Akise nodded. “Of course.”

“Izaya,” said Kaneki, “start looking for a way out above our heads.”

Izaya’s eyes squinted again – he must have been smiling. “Roger.” He went over to where Yukine was and started stepping up on the wooden boxes with his good leg. Yukine offered him help, but the informant waved him off.

“We really can’t go for much longer,” said Shintaro, winded. He held his scarf tight to his face, but even with most of his visage covered, Kaneki could tell the NEET looked rather ashen.

“You and A-ya stop looking. The more you move, the worse it’ll be,” said Kaneki firmly as he crossed the room. “Yukine, what have you and Yukiteru found so far?”

“Um…” Yukine looked down at some of the discarded boxes. “Wooden stakes, duct tape, rulers, colored pencils… Um, cling wrap…” He picked through one in front of him. “Some movies… Um, this one’s called Fight Club; it looks Western. Books by people that I don’t know.” He lifted up two of them: a collection of works by Edgar Allan Poe, and Dante’s Inferno.

Kaneki stared; he couldn’t help but admire the books. And both authors were ones that he had referenced some time or another here, hadn’t he? Well. He shook his head. “Perfect. Can I have the duct tape and the cling wrap?”

“Er, sure…”

“Seidou,” Kaneki called as the spirit handed them over, “come help me block off the holes in the wall.”

“Huh?” The other half-ghoul looked over at him, looking ill. “Nngh, sure.” With effort, he got up from the floor where he had been examining the underneath of the door.

Kaneki’s brow furrowed. Seidou hadn’t been able to cover his mouth and nose, his cloak left with Shirou Emiya on the surface by the hospital. “Seidou, maybe you should—”

“I get what you’re doing!” said Yukine, coming over. “Can I help? You might need a third.”

Kaneki looked at him. It was getting harder to think in this thick atmosphere. “Yes, thank you. You two… spread the cling wrap. I’ll seal it with the tape. It won’t save us, but it will buy us some time.” Yukine and Seidou made sounds of comprehension and did as they were directed. As Kaneki was sealing it off, he could hear Yukiteru ushering A-ya and Shintaro over to Rika, suggesting that A-ya should either use Shintaro’s scarf or Izaya’s jacket to breathe through because obviously his sweater vest was too thin… Yukki’s voice, too, was getting weaker.

Right now, we probably have five minutes before we start passing out, thought Kaneki grimly. With this sealing trick, I might be able to extend that to ten minutes, but…

He heard Izaya calling for Akise to bring him the crowbar. As he was finishing up the last bit of his sealing, Kaneki looked behind him to see Izaya reaching up to a discolored ceiling tile, straining to examine it properly while Akise came up behind him, climbing the boxes with his crowbar in hand. Kaneki watched as Izaya turned to look at the boy detective, his dark eyes glassy, visage all too pale. Kaneki sighed faintly – if Izaya kept up that stubborn front, he’d be the first one out cold. He closed his eyes. No, perhaps Izaya is too smart for that. I hope so. “Good job, Izaya,” he said, going up to the pile of boxes. “Let Akise pry the tile off. You come down here for now.”

Kaneki and Yukine helped Izaya down, much to his disgruntlement. “I don’t need a hand, you know,” said Izaya, but he’d accepted the gesture, and both Yukine and Kaneki could tell equally well that he likely would have collapsed had they not gotten to him.

The group that wasn’t active was steadily growing – seemed there was just Kaneki, Seidou, Yukine, and Akise left going. “You all should save that last bit of strength,” said Kaneki to those resting: Rika, A-ya, Shintaro, Yukiteru, and Izaya, that is. “Looks like we’ll have to climb.”

Akise wedged the crowbar in the crevice bordering the misplaced ceiling tile, pulling the bottom bit backwards – there was the sound of metal straining, and then a crack, and the large rectangular tile came clattering loudly to the ground. Everyone looked hopefully up to what it had been hiding: there was a vent.

“I need a screwdriver,” said Akise urgently. “Doesn’t matter what kind.”

“Yukine, search for a screwdriver,” said Kaneki. “Seidou, help me make steps out of these wooden boxes.”

The four of them went to work, as fast as they could go in this poisonous air. Kaneki’s efforts to slow the gas were working – he couldn’t feel the air getting thicker, but his lungs and everyone else’s were beginning to tire of this harmful air. It would become no more concentrated, but the gas had already dispersed well enough. As Kaneki worked with Seidou to make a half-pyramid stepping structure, he glanced back at those not helping. Their pale faces shone in the flickering lights.

He returned to his task, fixing his concentration there. It was the best he could do for everyone. He felt the floor swaying under his feet, and so he focused on the solidness of the crates they moved. Yukine found the screwdriver, and Akise unscrewed the cover for the vent, letting the damned thing clatter to the ground with the piece of ceiling that had fallen before it.

“The vent doesn’t go straight up,” Akise informed the rest of them, as he and Yukine carefully got themselves down from their perch to help Seidou and Kaneki finish up the last of their stepping-crates.

Those trying to recover had begun to stir, and the four still in action ushered the weaker ones to the steps, helping up those who needed it – Rika was relatively well off for someone her size, and was able to climb up on her own, insisting that Izaya have his jacket back.

“Before we all crawl into that vent,” said Kaneki to the ten-year-old, “could you go in and make sure it leads out? We’ll wait for your signal.”

She nodded, eyes ancient as ever. Kaneki found it oddly beautiful that she had the youngest body but the oldest mind.

She went in, and after waiting with bated breath for what felt like too long (“What if that really isn’t the way out?” asked Yukiteru faintly), her tiny voice returned to them through the metal passageway that was, in fact, their escape: “It is alright! This is the way!”

From there, Shintaro was helped up by Seidou, the NEET was second to go. A-ya was ushered in next, then Yukiteru. Both of them managed on their own. One by one, they climbed into the air vent, each waiting for the preceding person to signal to them the okay.

 Next went Izaya, aided by Yukine – Yukine followed behind him. Kaneki insisted for Akise to go next, and knowing there wasn’t much chance of arguing, he obliged. Kaneki gestured for Seidou to go in, and his fellow half ghoul sighed dramatically before going ahead, remarking, “You’d better be coming after me. I don’t expect I’m leaving you behind, ya hear?”

Though Seidou was already in the vent, Kaneki couldn’t help but smile. Distantly, he heard the echo of Seidou’s go-ahead. Kaneki looked back at the room one more time, then pulled himself up into the vent, which turned sharply forward – a path parallel to the ground beneath them. Vaguely, Kaneki noticed that he was losing feeling in his extremities. His elbows threatened to buckle under the weight of his torso, but he wouldn’t allow it.

There was light ahead. When he reached it, he found an open vent above his head, and crawled out to see the others waiting for him, many of them sitting or lying on the ground. He caught Shintaro smiling weakly at him – he was one of the ones lying on his back, the red scarf splayed about him. Everyone’s breathing was still haggard and uneven.

“That—was totally ridiculous,” said Yukine, still fighting to catch his breath, sitting cross-legged and hunched forward.

“Mmgh,” said Seidou in agreement, his bare arm over his eyes. He, too, was on his back.

“I mean… come on, I’ve already died,” said the spirit. “How come I still gotta deal with poison gas and stuff like that?” He paused, his eyes widening. “No—I’ve died twice. What the hell? Come on!”

“Hah…” Seidou turned his head, lowering his arm to look at Kaneki with the most exhausted face. “He’s died twice, Kaneki. I guess we can’t beat that, can we?” Weakly, he lifted his fist to the spirit. “Cheers.”

Quirking an eyebrow, Yukine fist-bumped him.

Albeit breathily, Kaneki found he could chuckle.

“What’s the next plan, Kaneki-kun?” asked Akise.

Kaneki looked around at everyone. “Ah… we take a break.”

 

Notes:

A happy Heat-Haze to you tomorrow! Don't die~

Chapter 111: Pacing

Chapter Text

 

Gradually, the nine of them caught their breath and regained their balance, the feeling in their limbs, and all that good stuff. Their bodies leveled off into what was as close to equilibrium as they could manage after that one.

“You don’t suppose they’re trying to narrow us down again, do you?” said Yukiteru, sitting just beside A-ya.

“They could be,” said the dark-clad one, “but why? After all that…” His red eyes wandered.

“I say that can’t be it,” said Yukine. “I mean, you guys have been saying that the whole point of the game was cooperation all along, so… no way.”

“You are right, Yukine,” conceded Izaya. “Unless they just have a taste for tragedy, and really only one player gets the prize.” Yukine frowned at him, and he shrugged. “I’m only speculating.”

“If the first bit was the cooperation game,” said Yukiteru, “and this were the real battle royal… that’d be a whole lot worse to be pitched against one another now, after we’ve all gotten so close.”

“From what we know about Muse,” admitted Kaneki, touching his chin, “they may well like ‘tragedy.’”

“Well, if they do,” said Seidou, “and this is actually a story like Rika said, then we’re screwed.”

“Because then they’ll inevitably write a bad ending,” said Shintaro quietly. “Oh, please no.”

“I’d like to believe that it is not the case,” said Rika. “Whether or not Muse likes tragedy, we must maintain the hope that we have an influence on our own ending.”

“We just have to believe that,” agreed A-ya, “otherwise it’ll be our preconceived notions that lead to a self-fulfilling prophecy, and ultimately our demise.”

“Ah,” said Akise, “but, I do wonder…” Like Kaneki, he touched his chin thoughtfully. “Rainbow said that Muse was like the ‘author’ of this ‘story’ called the Emina Games… But Greyson pointed out that Seraph was under the impression that ‘Muse isn’t Muse.’ What does that mean?”

“Perhaps Muse is a character like the rest of us,” remarked Izaya.

“That seems too easy,” said Kaneki. “But something like that—maybe.”

“Unless,” Seidou contributed, “y’know, Muse used to be this really nice person, and now they’re a fucking shithead.”

Shintaro sighed. “I guess that’s a way to put it, Seidou.”

“Well, but what about all those eye colors changing?” said Yukiteru. “What does that mean, then? Especially if Muse is the one that’s taking control of all the other masters.”

“Maybe,” said Izaya, “Seraph merely came to the realization that Muse was controlling them – and you know, of course, she feels betrayed and decides that ‘Muse isn’t Muse’ only because she didn’t want to believe such a thing.”

“Wow,” said Yukine. “I mean, Durden did just say that the masters were people too. And Akise mentioned that Durden was Seraph’s father, right? And he was Muse’s brother, too? That’s gotta mean something.”

“I dunno how you keep all that family stuff straight,” grumbled Seidou. “I don’t think it’s relevant.”

“But just talking about Durden’s comment about being people—maybe that’s hinting on something?” said Yukiteru. “But… why does he want us to think on that?”

“Perhaps he wants us to find the ‘truth,’” said A-ya lowly.

“I agree.” Izaya held up a finger. “On the ‘Muse isn’t Muse’ theory, though. What if the other masters look up to Muse as a leader, and if they’re a character like everyone else, then they really aren’t so high and mighty. That is to say, then Seraph would have come to find out that Muse doesn’t have as much power as they claim to have.”

“They seem to have enough power,” said Seidou.

“Do we even know what Muse does?” asked Shintaro.

“They probably control the other masters,” offered A-ya dully.

“Well, they could be the ‘author,’” said Yukiteru.

“But then, is that Muse’s label?” asked Rika. “Like plot, or symbolism?”

“On the contrary, Izaya,” said Akise, “I think that Muse isn’t a character like you propose. What if Muse is the only ‘real’ one here?”

“The only ‘real’ one?” asked Yukine. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Izaya raised his eyebrows. “Are you really saying that you don’t exist either, Akise-kun?”

Akise’s rose eyes flickered and darkened momentarily. “Well, think of this,” he said. “If Muse is the ‘author,’ then they’re not only writing a story with all of us as the main characters, they’re also using the other game masters as characters to their story. And what does that mean?”

“You mean,” said Kaneki, “that perhaps, what Seraph discovered was actually that Muse wasn’t the same as the rest of them? That Muse stood apart from them all, because were the only real one?”

“I don’t like all this ‘real’ and ‘not real’ talk,” said Izaya, looking sour.

“Would it be better, then,” said A-ya, “to use the terms ‘existing’ and ‘not existing’?” His scarlet eyes clouded as he thought. “After all—all of us are equally real… It all feels real… We all hurt, we all have motives, we all think. Or maybe, is it that it’s the other way around? That we all exist, but we’re not real?”

“That’s connotation,” said Kaneki.

“That’s bullshit,” said Seidou.

“Seidou,” Shintaro frowned.

“Wait, what’s bullshit?” said Yukine. “Connotation?”

“No, this whole thing,” said Seidou, crossing his arms over his chest.

“It really is a tough pill to swallow,” admitted Yukine. He thought of Yato’s constant struggle to ‘remain in existence.’ What if neither of them existed, all along? It made him feel very uneasy.

“Well, if Durden wants us to find the truth,” said Shintaro slowly, “and I guess… so do Greyson and Rainbow… and maybe even Seraph, or Aureus… If the masters other than Muse all want us to find the truth by the end of this tower, then—maybe we will?”

Izaya’s eyes narrowed slightly. “If even the masters that are still under Muse’s control want us to know that Truth, what if Muse wants us to know it too? And if that’s the case, what does that mean?”

“Is it really a Truth?” said A-ya, grim. “Does such a thing exist?”

Akise looked slightly bothered. He paused. Then, “I don’t know if that means it’s a lie, if that is what you’re implying.”

“Maybe not so much a lie,” said Kaneki. “Think of it – maybe Seraph was already meant to rebel, and Aureus was meant to break away. If all of that was planned by Muse, even if they don’t act it, couldn’t it be that they’re just playing the necessary part to be this story’s antagonist? Couldn’t it be, when actually Muse’s intention was for us to solve this puzzle all along?”

“Solving the mystery of Muse,” commented Akise quietly. “Yes. that sounds more… right.”

“I just want this all to end,” said Yukiteru.

“We must be considerate,” said Rika quietly. “If Kaneki is correct, then Muse has lived through as many games as Shintaro and I. If they are merely playing a part, then they, too, have lived through many tragedies…”

“But what if they really are just a power-hungry antagonist?” asked A-ya.

“But why are they?” asked Kaneki.

“How did it come to this?” asked Rika.

“Look,” said Seidou, getting to his feet, “it doesn’t matter yet how they got here. Whoever the hell this ‘Muse’ person is, they’ve got hell to pay for everything they put us through. Because even if they’re ‘playing a part,’ they started this shit. They brought us here. They put us through hell. And they enjoyed it. This is their entertainment. It doesn’t matter why they did it, because it doesn’t justify anything. I know. I’ve been there. You think I’m absolved for all the shit I did while I was ‘playing the part’ of a ghoul?” He barked out a harsh, mirthless laugh. “No. None of that was anything I should be forgiven for. And I can’t take it back, nor am I gonna try to. It’s too late – I know I’m nothing but a loose cannon.” He pointed at A-ya, who straightened uncomfortably. “You’ve done some stupid shit too, kid. Don’t go trying to blame all of it on the demon, because that doesn’t slide. We both fucked up. And we both had to get our asses handed to us before we came around again. In order to be accepted by this lot, we had to be treated as antagonists, first.”

Shintaro looked up at him, brow furrowed, eyes shining. He was so glad Seidou came back around.

The bitter half-ghoul lowered his hand and looked at everyone. “We’re not gonna sugarcoat anything this Muse person has done just because of whatever situation they’ve got going on. We’re gonna find them, and we’re gonna treat them like an antagonist, because that’s what they are. If they’re actually worth saving in the end, they’ll know they deserve it. And if they can be redeemed, or if they’re actually being controlled, too, by some other entity above them, then hey. Fucking fantastic. But we’re not there. So for now, I say stop running around in circles about all this philosophical bullshit and remember that Muse is still our target. That master is our end goal, and we can’t falter now.”

There was a heavy silence. Then Kaneki, too, got to his feet. “Seidou is absolutely right.”

“Explanation is not justification,” agreed Akise soberly.

“Perhaps it’s about time that we embark on our third level,” said Kaneki. The others began getting to their feet, all expressing agreement, and all pretty lost in thought. Shintaro brushed himself off as he stood; he still felt weak-kneed from the previous floor, but maybe that was just because he was a shut-in? Honestly, he was proud of himself for having gone on as long as he did in a room that was slowly filling with toxic fumes. Despite how trying it had been, he was sorta glad – he kinda felt cool.

But, that aside, he eyed the back of Seidou as they all went down the hall towards the next door that they knew would lead to their next challenge. He could hear Yukiteru discussing with the others what sort of challenge it might be next, but Shintaro was preoccupied with everything Seidou had just said.

‘Playing the part,’ huh? Shintaro hadn’t thought much on it, but Seidou hadn’t really spoken about his experiences apart from the group, or how he felt about any operation against him. Maybe the NEET had just been too glad to have him back to worry too much on it, and after all, it would make sense that Seidou wouldn’t want to talk about it. He probably felt more guilty than even Shintaro could fathom. Did he feel guilty, though? He’d heard Seidou say things like ‘I won’t say sorry,’ so was it that he didn’t feel guilt? Maybe he still felt like the victim?

But what that speech just told Shintaro was that Seidou understood that it didn’t matter that he had been a victim, at one time. It didn’t matter if he didn’t deserve everything he went through between being a human and becoming a half-ghoul, because no one he killed or hurt deserved that, either. The same went for Roppi – yes, he was in pain after Tsuki’s death, but it didn’t give him any rights to try and kill anyone else, or hurt the ones he did. It was still wrong of him to lash out at others… but by the time he’d realized it, did it mean that with everything he’d done wrong, he deserved to die? No, and yet what had Seidou done?

Izaya’s destruction at Yato’s hand did not make Izaya justified in all of his previous cruel acts any more than Yato was justified in his cruel acts merely for his grief and self-doubt. Seidou was right: A-ya had been possessed, but that didn’t mean he was free of blame. Whether he could have been helped or not, they needed to try and kill him at the time because it was necessary – the same went for Yato. But here and now, after suffering for his choices and living to see the aftermath of his crimes, he could still be accepted by this group as a whole, along with Seidou and Izaya.

So what did all of this mean about guilt, or justice, or blame? What about responsibility?

Seidou noticed the look on Shintaro’s face: one of existential crisis. So he slowed, peering at him with his one eye. “What’s up with you?”

Shintaro was snapped from his thoughts, though his grey eyes still wandered away from his teammate. “I-I dunno. Just thinking about ‘blame,’ I guess. Who’s at fault for… like, everything… maybe.”

The half-ghoul was quiet for a moment. “It’s nobody’s fault,” he said. “And everybody’s. Kaneki said that to me.”

Shintaro actually looked at him, his brow furrowed. He smiled, bittersweet. “Yeah? I guess he’s right, then.”

Seidou grunted. It sounded affirmative.

“You know… Seidou?”

“Huh?” he answered gruffly.

“After everything… I’m really glad you made it.”

Seidou glanced at him, then clucked his tongue. He didn’t answer at first. “It’s not really that I wanted you—to make it, but… with them eyes ‘n whatever… We kinda needed you to make it. So. I guess I’m glad you made it, too.”

Shintaro smiled. That roundabout way of expressing that care was enough for him. He could feel it.

“You know,” said the half-ghoul, not looking at the red-scarfed one, “I really didn’t expect to be here at the end. I still don’t think I should be here, but…” He shrugged. “Here I am. Not complaining or nothin’, but it was sort of a shocker after some of the shit I’ve pulled. Then again, A-ya was kind of surprising too, and I mean – I’m not the only one here who isn’t living for their own sake.”

“Wait, what’s that supposed to mean?” asked Shintaro, brow furrowed in concern.

“Don’t worry about it,” answered Seidou. “No need for it. But look at our lot – most of our futures’ve gone to shit. I know I don’t have anything like that. A ‘future.’ Maybe you don’t either… but I’ll admit, I’d hope so. If you can find an end here, I’ll bet you can find the ending to your time cycle or whatever in your realm, too. Just do me a favor, you damned shut-in.”

Shintaro stiffened, and looked at him.

Stop being a fucking shut-in. After you take care of whatever bullshit’s goin’ on, make a future for yourself. You can have that. Don’t just rot away in your bedroom. Fucking NEET.”

He grimaced. Harsh. But he wasn’t wrong. “Um—yeah, got it…” He frowned. “But, um, you can have a future too… Don’t go and talk like that, or else… doesn’t that make you a hypocrite?”

“I may be a hypocrite,” said Seidou, “but…” He looked over to Shintaro with such pallid, hollow eyes. “…I really don’t have a future. I just don’t. Redeemed or not, whatever you say, I still have nothing ahead of me. So for now… I’ll just keep going for someone else’s sake.”

Shintaro’s eyes clouded. He thought deeply on this. “But…” Something occurred to him. Whose sake, then? He almost asked, but Kaneki’s hand was on the doorknob of the next door. Kaneki looked around at everyone; the conversations quieted.

“Are we ready?”

“That is so,” said Rika.

“Let’s do it,” said Yukine, hands in his pockets.

“Oh, hurry up,” said Seidou, and Kaneki opened the door.

As they walked in, Yukine remarked, “It’s really dark in this one,” his tone discomfited.

“Perhaps the lights won’t turn on this round?” speculated Izaya.

“I wonder what we’re supposed to do,” said Yukiteru, as the door started closing behind them.

“Everyone remain on guard,” warned Kaneki. “Stay behind me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Seidou.

Shintaro got a very bad feeling about this – it was too dark, they were walking into an abyss, and their only light was coming from outside the door. He turned to look at the door in time to see a flash of orange in his peripherals – the backlit form of Seidou staggering, single eye wide as he fell to one knee, grabbing at his throat while black seeped from his lips – Shintaro knew it was actually thick red. Everyone else started turning to the fallen half-ghoul in alarm as a sharp clanging sound reverberated through them and Seidou’s head seemed to explode, its back spattering in a red spray towards the door.

His body collapsed. The door closed. It was dark.

Shintaro cried his name and ran to him, his ears ringing. Everything moved so slow. He thought he heard Yukine trying to put up a borderline to protect everyone. Shintaro was on his knees. He heard the barrier Yukine had made shattering like glass, people were shouting, he thought he heard Rika’s scream. Was this it? He looked to where the wall opposite the door would be and saw blooming orange, the sharp fire of pain meeting his face as he was cut off from the world and all blacked out—


“It’s really dark in this one.” Yukine’s voice.

Shintaro froze in pace. He was walking beside Seidou, and the door was closing behind them.

“Perhaps the lights won’t turn on this round?” said Izaya.

“I wonder what we’re supposed to do,” said Yukiteru.

Shintaro opened his mouth, and closed it again. He was immobile. Mute with shock. He felt himself trembling.

“Everyone remain on guard. Stay behind me,” said Kaneki.

“Yeah, yeah,” said Seidou.

The same clanging, and a flash of orange. Shintaro watched from behind, now, as Seidou fell to one knee, holding his throat. And then his head exploded. Shintaro felt it spatter on him – warm. Kaneki glanced behind him as the door closed, revealing Seidou’s fate. He hadn’t the time for horror. “Everyone, look out!” he barked in the pitch black.

A line!” shouted Yukine, and Shintaro watched a glowing cerulean line get drawn in the ground, a barrier of light rising to the ceiling and illuminating the room. The red-scarfed one tried to make everyone out, and found everyone standing in a group, mostly behind Kaneki and Yukine. With a flash of orange from behind the barrier, the forcefield shattered in blinding light – Shintaro had to shield his eyes. He heard Izaya call Yukine’s name. He heard that deathly clanging, and Rika’s scream. He felt blossoming agony in his chest, then nothing.


“It’s really dark in this one,” said Yukine.

Shintaro stopped walking abruptly. “Okay,” he said.

“Perhaps the lights won’t turn on this round?” said Izaya, glancing back at Shintaro. “What do you think?”

Shintaro stared at Izaya. I changed it. I can change it.

“Ya look so tongue-tied,” scoffed Seidou, rolling his eye before staggering suddenly, falling to one knee and holding his throat.

Shintaro winced.

“Tongue-tied, huh?” said Izaya, and Seidou’s head exploded. The door closed.

“Everyone, get behind me!” barked Kaneki, as Yukine shouted, “A line!

The clangs, the orange – Shintaro already knew that the barrier would shatter, but didn’t shield his eyes this time, trying to see beyond to where the orange was coming from. Before his chest was set on fire, he figured it out: it’s firing. It’s shooting at us.

Then the world was black once more.


“It’s really dark in this one.”

“Oh my god,” said Shintaro.

“What now?” sighed Seidou.

“Rika, are you as confused as I am?”

Rika took pause. “What is it that you mean, Shintaro?”

“Oh, of course,” said Shintaro. Of course he was the only one. And so without warning, he shoved Seidou to the side with all his strength, got the projectile through his own neck, and died.


“It’s really dark in this one.”

Shintaro turned right around and grabbed the door before it could shut any further. Everyone turned to look at him. “You’re absolutely right, Yukine,” he said hastily. “I completely agree.”

“Being in the dark might be a part of this challenge, Shintaro-kun,” said Izaya, humored.

“You can release the door, Shintaro,” said Kaneki, touching his chin. “Though we should remain on guard.”

A-ya looked into the darkness, suspicious. “I do wonder…”

“Shintaro,” said Akise, brow furrowed. “You should—”

Shintaro didn’t hear what he said. He heard a roar and a felt a flash of pain before the world was gone again.


“It’s really dark in this one.”

“Oh, come ON!”

Everyone paused to look at him as he turned around and examined the tiles in this room just in front of the doorframe. They looked odd, and misplaced.

“Are you… okay?” asked Yukiteru.

“Good eye,” said Akise, eyes flickering. “I almost didn’t notice.”

“Notice what?” asked Seidou.

“This place is rigged with mines, too?” Shintaro groaned.

“What do you mean ‘too’?” asked A-ya.

Here, Seidou stiffened. He was facing the door this time, so he didn’t have the pleasure of living a few extra seconds. He swayed, then collapsed.

That’s what I mean,” said Shintaro, his voice strained.

“Everyone, get back!” called Kaneki, and the barrier was made.

This time, the room was also lit with red lightning produced by A-ya. The dark-clad boy’s hand raised to the ceiling, the electricity ran about the room like a snake… or maybe a dragon. Maybe it was best not to use serpentine references anymore.

“A-ya, what are you doing?” asked Yukine, and his barrier shattered.

Whether or not the others understood, Shintaro was grateful. Now he knew how big the room was, and just how far they’d have to traverse. He searched desperately for a switch that could turn everything off, but saw nothing. Even some sort of hatch, or clear area – anything.

He found nothing, only earning the sounds of everyone’s deaths again before he managed to die himself.


“It’s really dark in this one.”

“A-ya!” Shintaro turned to the dark-clad one, who stiffened. The other seven all looked at Shintaro, stopping in their walking. “Use your electricity on the back wall!”

“What?” A-ya stared at him. “Why?”

“Maybe it’ll turn on the lights!” suggested Yukiteru hopefully.

“That would be nice,” said Yukine, shoving his hands deeper in his pockets.

Yeah, thought Shintaro, it would be nicer if it could disable the automated guns I saw lining the wall, please. “Just—please do it.”

Seidou scoffed, crossing his arms. “Best to listen to him, A-ya.”

Shrugging, A-ya did as he was told: the space shrouded in darkness flickered scarlet, then flashed with a strike of crimson electricity that sent orange sparks flying.

The door closed, then. Seidou was still alive. Shintaro thought to be relieved, but then the room was not lit with scarlet electricity but with A-ya himself, igniting as if he were doused with kerosene and someone had lit a match. Yukiteru screamed his name as A-ya shrieked at the agony of being set on fire – as if he didn’t know the feeling already, courtesy of Roy Mustang, once upon a time. Not that Shintaro knew that, though.

He couldn’t bear it. He looked away.

It didn’t take long for A-ya to stop screaming. Shintaro heard Kaneki’s commands to be on guard, but didn’t process them. He heard Akise speak in warning tones as he felt hands gripping at his shirt, yanking him down. Blue eyes illuminating the dark bore into him. They were welling with hot tears. “You… made… A-ya… die.” It was Yukiteru.

“I’m sorry,” said Shintaro, and he meant it. But then what Shintaro could only figure was all the explosives going off at once both blinded and deafened him as he felt the heat of flame and the horrid sensation of his body being ripped apart by the force…


“It’s really dark in this one.”

“Well, that didn’t work.” Shintaro brought a hand to his forehead.

“Hum? What’s that?” asked Izaya.

“Do tell,” Kaneki agreed, looking back at him.

“You look distressed, that is so,” said Rika.

“Like you’ve seen a ghost, or somethin’,” said Seidou. “For the record, I don’t think Yukine’s that scary.”

“Hey,” Yukine frowned deeply.

“There are guns on the far wall,” Shintaro said tiredly. “Seidou’s about to die.”

“I’m what?” Seidou said, and was shot in the throat. As he fell to his knee, he looked at Shintaro with offended surprise. Then his head exploded. Everyone still breathing looked at Shintaro in alarm. The door closed.

“How did you…?” asked Yukine.

“A loop,” whispered Rika.

“Reset,” uttered A-ya.

“Then wouldn’t that mean,” said Akise, “that this is Rodd’s room?”

“Well, Shintaro-kun,” said Izaya, “what are we to do? Maybe this one’s all on you.” He could hear the smile in his tone, even if he couldn’t see it.

“What am I supposed to do?!” Shintaro cried, his voice cracking.

“Well, you’ve got to do something,” said Yukiteru nervously.

“I believe that Shintaro will carry out a happy ending,” said Rika firmly.

“Oh god,” said the red-scarfed one. There was the sound of clanging and spattering. A thud indicated someone’s fall. Could he really solve this room? If he was supposed to be the one to stop this mess – This tragedy, huh? he couldn’t help but think – then there had to be some way that he, Shintaro, could do it. If he was the designated survivor – no, the designated memory-keeper…

It couldn’t be something that demanded him to do something he couldn’t feasibly do… like, say, run into the crossfire and dodge all the bullets, or the metal balls that Shintaro had supposed were what did the job of making heads “explode.” (Think about it – a small metal ball can do a lot of damage with enough force behind it.) It wasn’t about keeping the door open, and it wasn’t about sacrificing himself instead… How could he spare everyone else while also preserving his own frail life?

He focused on these thoughts with hands over his ears so that he wouldn’t hear everyone’s demise once again. He needed to concentrate, his eyes shut against the darkness. He felt his chest burst and thought to gasp, but that was it for him, this time.


“It’s really dark in this one.”

Guys, we’re in a time loop,” said Shintaro as fast as he could muster, his senses still scrambled from the sudden jump backwards in time. His heart was still pounding. He could still smell iron.

“What?” said A-ya. “Again?”

“Really…” Akise touched his chin. Everyone was already facing the hikkiNEET.

“Strange,” said Rika, sounding disturbed, “that I don’t remember.”

“Direct us as you will,” said Kaneki, and Shintaro nodded stiffly.

“I think I need to get to the other side,” he said. “Yeah—I need to get to the other side, but there are guns on the far wall and mines on the floor.”

“I’ll light the way,” said A-ya, raising a hand.

Shintaro smiled gratefully at him. “Everyone should stay back here, I think. Please. And Seidou, move over.”

“Oi…” Suspicious, Seidou stepped to the side. “Don’t go thinking that you’re gonna…”

“Sorry,” Shintaro said quickly, and began to run as fast as he could manage, red crackling after him and lighting the way, courtesy of A-ya.

“O-oi!” Seidou called, and the flashes of orange came. He dodged in the nick of time. “Wh—what the fuck?!”

Shintaro pressed on. The door closed behind him. He knew that the floor was essentially flat – there was nothing to trip on but his own feet. If he stepped on a mine, then he’d know not to run there next time. He had a photographic memory - he’d be fine. It would be fine.

That didn’t change how scared he was of stepping on a mine or getting shot, though. You’d think that dying this many times over, he’d be used to it, but no…

Within the first second, he heard Kaneki assuring the others to let him do as he would. Rika was backing him up. Seidou still sounded bothered.

It was Yukiteru that called to him: “Shintaro, here!” He felt himself lifting from the ground, and he released a yelp of horror, having not expected it. Then he realized that Yukki was helping him, he wasn’t being blown up, and it was all okay.

He was set on the other side of the room, and he felt the weight of gravity return to him. He stood at the exit, stunned. The crackle of lightning remained beside him, and he turned to make sure that everyone was alright.

“Alright, Shintaro?” called Yukine.

“Uh—” Shintaro coughed; his voice wasn’t cooperating with him. “Uh, yeah!”

“Better damn well be!” snapped Seidou from across the expanse. “You fuckin’ shut-in!”

He couldn’t help but smile. Let’s get this over with. He grabbed the handle, a bar handle that was cool to the touch. Here, he stopped. Something was very wrong. Was it really this easy? His grip tightened on the handle – his palms were sweating, heart thumping in his ears. Why has only the one shot gone off? What was he doing? Why wait? All of this took perhaps a few moments. Jaw tightening, he turned the handle – What if it’s locked? – and it gave in easily, unlatching the door with a satisfying click.

For just a breath’s time, he felt relief.

Then, his eardrums felt as if they’d burst, every shooting mechanism going off at the same time. He felt the rush of air at either side of him, the lights flashing in his peripherals. He dared not turn around and look at the results. Alright, he thought, closing his eyes. What’ll end me this time? Please make it quick…

He felt a hand at his back, and froze. In his ringing ear came a slow, smooth voice, cutting through the tinnitus brought on by the clamoring of gunfire. “Will you leave the room without them?”

Is this Rodd? Shintaro felt himself shaking. He could barely feel himself. Gradually, he forced himself to shake his head in the negative.

You won’t be getting out of this place with everyone alive. I’ll see to that. And if you’re really so persistent as the others claim you to be, then you and I will be here forever and ever. Shintaro, do you understand? Only you will suffer for it. I will never run out of time.

The hand at his shoulder gripped him tighter, then pulled him backwards. Shintaro staggered, vision spinning in ebony, lights flashing, or so he thought, anyway. He almost lost his balance.

It was Seidou that caught him, grabbing him by the forearm. Vision coming back into focus, he heard muted noises that had to be the sound of talking. He must have missed the cue of the next loop, too disoriented to catch on. By the time Seidou had pulled him up (his injured arm throbbed dully in protest, but couldn’t say he really noticed at that point), and he was on his feet, he could hear everyone.

“Is it that you are okay?” asked Rika, timid.

“Maybe… the gas,” said Yukiteru, and Shintaro shook his head slowly.

“I can’t do this,” he said faintly. His head was spinning. Everything was starting to catch up to him now, and the memory of that game master at his back haunted him. “I can’t…” He was teetering on the edge of shutdown. He thought maybe they were still speaking to him, kind. Of course they were kind. Their words buzzed in his head like static. He couldn’t process. They couldn’t get it, no matter how fast they caught on.

He tugged at the scarf. This didn’t belong to him. He shouldn’t have it. Unable to bear standing any longer, he sat there on the floor. “I can’t,” he said again. Or at least, he thought so. His mouth felt numb.

He saw Seidou crouching in front of him, looking peeved and concerned at the same time in that way of his. “Oi,” he said, managing to make it through his cloud of static. “What’s the matter? I can carry ya if you’re really that bad off. You’re—holding us up, that’s why I would, you know.”

Shintaro closed his eyes, just in case this was the part where Seidou’s head exploded. There was the sound of the first round being fired, but there were no sounds of distress, nor any sickening sounds of spatter. Shintaro opened his eyes. Everyone was looking on the other side of the room.

“Someone’s over there,” said Yukiteru.

The door closed.

Shintaro blinked. But, I didn’t see a person…

“I didn’t see anyone,” came Yukine’s voice, confirming Shintaro’s clouded confusion.

“Maybe we can’t,” said A-ya. “This has happened before. Yukiteru?”

“Perhaps this is Rodd’s room,” suggested Akise.

“Well, everyone should remain on guard—” began Kaneki, but he was cut off by Yukine getting obliterated by the gunfire.

Shintaro stared upwards so he wouldn’t have to look. Everything became muted. I can’t see him, but Yukiteru can. What if…?

“Shintaro, damn it, get up!” he heard Seidou say, and he looked over to the far wall in time to see the orange flash before he was presumably shot down.


“It’s really dark in this one.”

“We’re about to get shot,” said Shintaro firmly, and he watched everyone falter in the waning light from the slowly closing door. “Yukiteru, can you stop anything from coming our way?” Please, please let this work…

Everyone looked to Yukiteru. He looked at Shintaro – he looked so serious. Where was this coming from, all of a sudden? “Uh… yeah, sure. I think my abilities work again.”

“How did you know about the guns?” asked Yukine.

“A loop,” Rika realized, voice soft.

“Reset, huh?” said A-ya.

“Yeah just—please.” Shintaro looked so downright frazzled, his eyes glowing crimson, distraught. Those slitted pupils were the same that A-ya had, not that long ago. Yukiteru thought not to dwell on that kind of stuff, though.

I wonder what we all missed… Yukiteru found it very unsettling that he didn’t feel any different about walking into this room. Could it really be a loop? How many times had they entered this room unawares? Regardless, he smiled at Shintaro, as reassuring as he could be to someone who obviously knew more than him. “I’ll do my best, Shintaro.”

Yukki thought perhaps he saw Shintaro try to smile at him, but it was hard to tell when he was backlit by the light in the hall they’d just come from. The cloaked one then turned to the opposite wall, squinting into the dark. With the flash of orange, Yukki lifted his hands, and the firing was cut short. It went dead silent. Did I do it?

He looked to see, turning in time to see everyone looking at him… and looking at him. The door did not close. It was frozen in place, and so was everyone else. Slowly, he lowered his hands. “Um…?” He took a cautious step back. “Sh-Shintaro, is this supposed to happen?” Shintaro didn’t answer him. Yukiteru turned to look between Akise and A-ya. Yukine and Izaya. Rika…

A horrid thought occurred to him: What if I can’t change it back? He kept trying to deactivate the ability, but to no avail. He’d never stopped time before, what the hell was this? All he’d wanted was to stop the bullets!

He grabbed at A-ya’s good shoulder desperately and tried to shake him. “A-ya, snap out of it—Akise, come on! Oh no…”

“You might want to rethink that,” said a voice from the shadows. Yukiteru looked up and saw a pair of spectacles gleam as they were pushed up on someone’s face.

It’s Rodd, after all. “You’re the one who’s got them frozen, aren’t you?”

“That’s right,” Rodd agreed. The lights came on, then, fluorescents gradually getting turned up in dial fashion. Rodd stood at the opposite end of a long room, a small computer notebook in one hand. “This here controls everything in this room,” the game master explained. “From the lights, to the guns, to the mines… It’s very nifty. A swell little thing, isn’t it?”

Yukiteru nodded dumbly. He recalled Minene using something similar when she had bombed his school as the terrorist she was. Seemed so strange thinking of that now. So much had happened since then. Shaking his head, Yukiteru snapped from his own thoughts and stepped forward, carefully passing around A-ya and Akise. “Alright, Rodd, what do we have to do to pass this room?”

Rodd adjusted his glasses, staring at him with those wide, blank eyes. “Did you want something special?”

Yukiteru faltered in his confidence. “Uh…”

“I could fast-forward someone here,” suggested Rodd. “Or even rewind them. That could get problematic.”

“Er… please don’t.”

“Well, if you say so.”

Yukki furrowed his brow. “Don’t be so vague – what do I have to do, actually?”

“Was I being vague? I’m sorry.” Ever so slightly, Rodd smiled. “But it is just you and I now. Do you have any questions for me?”

He straightened. Questions? He looked around at everyone in the clear lighting from above. They remained still as stone, not so much as moving to breathe. “Are they…?”

“They’re not dead,” said Rodd. “And they won’t remember this.” He paused. “Yukiteru, not all of you will make it to the end.”

Yukki turned on him. “What? Why?”

Rodd only smiled.

“You can’t just not count that as a question.”

“No, it counts. But I never said I’d answer every time.” He paused. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Yukiteru crossed his arms over his chest. “You still keep doing bad things.”

“I could say the same for you, Yukiteru,” said the game master, and Yukki found he couldn’t argue, even though he didn’t know for sure what he meant.

“Fine, what waits at the end for those of us who’ll make it then, huh? Are we gonna go home?”

“You might.”

He frowned. “If we do, then…” He glanced back at A-ya. He didn’t want to say it.

“If you go home, you will go home, Yukiteru,” said Rodd. “To your home, just as A-ya will return to his. It is the same for Shintaro, for Kaneki and Seidou, for Rika, for Yukine, for Izaya.”

Yukki’s mouth felt dry. “And…?”

“I cannot answer for Yuno, or Minene.”

“If all of us… or… for the ones that are making it… then…” Yukiteru began to fidget. “What I mean, if we all go home – if we do. Then would any of us… ever see each other again?”

Thinly, Rodd smiled at him.

He felt pain clutching at his chest. “That can’t be! After all this? I-it can’t! Would we really, all be…?” He paused. “Would we remember each other?”

“If you were to go home,” said Rodd, “yes. You would remember.”

This dread felt so cold. “What would happen if we didn’t go home? Would we cease to exist, like A-ya says?”

Rodd didn’t answer.

“W…well… d-don’t we have any say in what we choose to have happen to us? If we all wanna go home, then—why can’t we somehow keep in contact? You’ve managed to bring us all here in the first place, haven’t you? So—”

“Yukiteru, let me ask you something, instead.”

Yukiteru stopped. Stared at him. “What?”

“Do you want to reset?” Rodd looked at him meaningfully with his softly glowing violet eyes. “If you go back to the beginning, then you can start over. Rika won’t know it was you who did it, and neither will Shintaro, if he happens to activate his eyes next round.” He flashed a rather eerie smile. “I can even make sure you remember everything, if you really want. Then maybe you can save more people than you managed this timeline.” Rodd took a step forward, spreading his free arm outwards. “Think about it. You don’t know what will happen at the end. You may disappear, or perhaps you’ll be cast back into the fates you’d already been dealt, in your own realms. That means going right back into a battle royal for you, Yukiteru… Do you really want to go back to a realm where you know your parents will die? And in either case, you may never see these friends again. I’m giving you this one last chance. Will you take it?”

Yukiteru’s shoulders fell. This fear; this dreadful feeling of loss; the ominous, unknown chasm of the ‘future’… I wonder, is this what A-ya saw in front of him? He recalled Shinichi’s gentle smile, and the kindness of Celty. The gruff warmth of Minene, and the pained care that shone in Yato’s cerulean eyes. He heard the light, summertime laugh of Twelve; peered with his mind’s eye into the blank stare of Suzuya, ever trying to connect. The fire of Roy Mustang before it had been extinguished, or the brilliance of L. Even the firm determination of Keiichi came to mind; or the friendly stillness of C-ta, and his softness even if it were only expressed towards A-ya.

He thought of Kaneki’s tired self, still compassionate. Seidou’s outbursts of angry heroism, whether that was what he called it or not. Shintaro, arguably the most human of everyone right now… but he kept going, and kept going. He thought of Yukine with his doubt, but also his good will, masked with a disgruntled face that didn’t fool anyone.

Izaya, who had somehow managed to pull Yukiteru from the dark even though Izaya himself had been lost in the shadows of everyone’s memories – his iciness, yes, but also his exhausted eyes, staring nowhere as he lent his truths, always denying it was for any purpose besides his own gain. Maybe you could call him cruel, but truthfully he was clean-cut and honest, whether that was who he used to be or some new, emergent Izaya from the embers of the house that held what Yukiteru dubbed to be too much bloodshed. And that harsh honesty was something that Yukiteru had needed, especially at that time – Izaya didn’t even fear to say it, even if he did fear death, and knew that speaking could end him.

Rika, who had stayed at his side even through his second tragedy. Her ancient eyes had tried to reach him even then, when he’d broken off… And she had still held out her hand to him even as he accused her or pointed the gun at her or screamed at her or a combination of the previous three. Even with decades worth of memories – how tired of all this she must be! But somehow, she still found the strength to keep trying for a happy ending.

What, exactly, is a happy ending?

He thought of A-ya, from beginning to present. That first night, talking about urban legends and hamburger steak… and the second, looking at the stars and bridging the gap between their lonely consciousnesses… Their shared helplessness, their shared isolation, their shared situations, their shared spaces, holding tight to one another as the sun rose the day after A-ya had died with C-ta… Holding hands on the roof as the stars rotated above their heads and their new group rested beneath them…

When A-ya had first gotten possessed – even then, his first words to him had been, ‘Don’t worry, I won’t leave your side.’

A-ya, leaving… and meeting him again in the forest – the way they could speak with one another as if they’d never parted. Yukiteru had insisted then that they could meet in their respective futures… A-ya had insisted that the past was the only future there was.

If A-ya were to know the choice presented to him now, what would be his answer? What would he say?

And what would Akise say? Yukiteru knew that if he were to go home, regardless of everything, he would have Akise at his side for sure, but… What of everyone else? He thought of the silver-haired detective-to-be, and everything he’d done for Yukiteru’s sake. The warmth of his eyes, pools of rose that saw inside of him… and the smooth assurance of his voice; the subtle connection made with his crooked smile. How he had expressed his faith in Yukki; how he had encouraged him and taught him that he could change fate if he wanted to.

Yukiteru was to decide what the future was. What did it look like?

“Rodd, you are right,” he spoke slowly, bowing his head.

Rodd’s eyes shimmered in their violet hue – Yukki couldn’t tell whether it was a flicker of contained excitement or a glimpse of feverish anticipation.

“I don’t want it to be that everything here never happened, really. And I don’t want to go to a world where everything goes exactly as you’ve had me see…” Yukiteru raised his head. “So… you know what?”

Rodd blinked.

“I’ll just have to change that for myself,” he smiled fully. “I can change destiny if I really want to – so I’ll see to it that I can see A-ya again, and everyone else. I’ll find a way. Even if we don’t go home… I’ll make that future. Understand, Mister Timekeeper?”

Rodd stared at him for a period of silence. He put his free hand in his hoodie pocket, wide eyes unblinking. “Do you really think you can handle the ending?”

“I do,” he said. “Rodd, it’s the same for every one of us… You are your life’s leading part, so you’ve got to walk with confidence!”

The game master smiled lopsidedly, ducking his head, grabbing at the rim of his hat and shrouding his eyes. “Is that so? No reset, then, huh?”

“No,” he answered firmly.

“I see…” Yukki wondered why it was this silence held something more than a void without sound. What it was that filled it, he couldn’t tell. “Thank you.”

 

Chapter 112: Depth & (Dis)Connections

Chapter Text

 

“That room wasn’t so bad,” said Seidou as they all walked out the other side. “Minus the lights being suddenly blinding.”

“Yeah,” said Shintaro weakly. “Not so bad at all…”

The poor guy still seemed ill.

“Have some respect,” said Rika to Seidou, firm. “We know not just how bad the room was. We merely do not remember.”

“Yeah, yeah…”

“What exactly fixed it?” asked Yukine. “I’m still a little lost.”

“My guess is it was a one-on-one between Yukki and Rodd,” said Izaya matter-of-factly. A-ya nodded in agreement.

“Well, I suppose it’s relatively obvious that Yukiteru-kun was correlated with Rodd,” remarked Akise.

“What even did you do?” said Shintaro.

“He may not want to answer,” said Kaneki.

“No, it’s fine,” said Yukiteru brightly. “Not much happened. He froze time, we talked, and it was over.”

“You talked, huh?” said Akise, his eyebrows raised. “Sounds pleasant.”

“I hardly expect it was a friendly chat,” scoffed Izaya.

“Maybe he had a challenge, after all,” said A-ya quietly.

“Like what?” frowned Seidou. “Another damned riddle?”

Shintaro laughed weakly. “Or a physics problem… right.”

“I would more expect a choice of some sort,” said Rika.

“Does it really matter?” asked Yukine. “Obviously he made the right one, whether we know the question or not. So…” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “And anyway, what have we got left?”

“Rainbow and Greyson said we had six floors to pass through,” said Akise, “and that was our third.”

“Halfway there,” said Izaya. “Not bad.”

“Let’s see,” said Yukiteru, beginning to count on his fingers, “we’ve been through Aureus’s challenge, then Durden’s, then Rodd’s. That leaves Greyson, Rainbow, Seraph, and Muse.”

“And the mystery master, if they count,” added Akise.

“Well, Rainbow and Greyson probably come together,” said Shintaro.

“And I’ll risk the assumption that the ‘mystery master’ won’t have a floor here,” said A-ya flatly.

“That is to say,” said Izaya, “Muse’s level may be the final floor, hah?”

“That’d make sense,” shrugged Yukine.

The fourth level was a similar color scheme as the first three, this one accented with red. As they entered the challenge space, they found a game master waiting for them in neutral stance. Not a single one of them had met her before, not with their own eyes. The only player she had revealed herself to had since perished.

Seraph stretched her fingers apart, arms at either side. As the door closed and locked behind the nine that had joined her in this room, she gave a little jump, as if she were startled. Her wavy violet hair bounced with her, though not the half of her scalp that had the buzzcut. “Hi, guys!” she chirped, her voice cracking. She tittered, then, tugging at the grey sleeve of her ripped hoodie. She shifted from foot to foot, eyes scanning them.

“Seraph?” tried Shintaro, and she yipped a ‘yep!’ before her violet eyes came to rest on Yukine.

Her visage lit up. “Yukine!

“Um…” The Shinki shifted uncomfortably. His hands were still in their favorite place: his hoodie pockets. “Yeah?”

Seraph clapped her hands together, giggling. “And A-ya! I’m so happy!” Her voice broke again at ‘happy.’

Seidou furrowed his brow. This one was more than loud. She was high-pitched, too.

“And—and Yukiteru, and Kaneki, and Seidou, and Shi-i-in… Rika… Even Izaya made it!” She began bouncing on the balls of her feet. “I—I’m so happy that all of you made it!” Her eyes bored into Izaya. “Although I sure would have been happy if we’d had Roppi, instead,” she added, and Izaya frowned slightly.

“Is now really the time for—?”

“There isn’t much time left.” Seraph clenched and unclenched her fists, a rather feverish spark in those violet eyes of hers. As she bowed her head, her bangs managed to shroud both of her eyes instead of just one. “This is my room. I can do what I want. There is no challenge, here. All I want is… just, a little bit of time, that’s all.”

The group of nine was mildly taken aback, individuals shifting uncomfortably. “If I recall correctly,” said Kaneki politely, “you were the game master that approached Roppi… weren’t you? I’d like to thank you for your part in leading Seidou to his redemption.”

“My redemption,” Seidou scoffed, and Shintaro nudged him with a disapproving frown.

Seraph laughed a bit. “I—sorta tried.” She gripped at one of her forearms with her opposite hand, turning her head away from them all. At least she wasn’t staring intently at the ground. “But it was still—it’s just the eight of you, and Akise. Everyone else…” She shook her head, then looked at them all. “Sorry, Izaya. I love you just as much, even if you’re a douche.”

“Thanks,” Izaya said drily, while Yukine stifled a snicker.

“But really, you’ve come a long way,” Seraph continued. “You… perhaps, more than even I could have hoped.”

“You flatter me.”

“He’s still just as sharp of tongue, though,” commented Shintaro with a light sigh.

“I’m serious, though,” Seraph pressed, taking a half-step forward and gripping tighter at her arm. They could see her knuckles, white. “Izaya could somehow move past his cowardly nature, and even if he’s still selfish, he doesn’t disregard the needs of others entirely. And—and every so often, he can even swallow his pride. He—he knows that—that he needs people. The spring came. It came! Like Twelve said, and so…” She covered her mouth, looking overwhelmed.

“You’re making me sound a lot more enlightened than this group perceives me to be,” snickered Izaya mirthlessly. “And what’s this, talking about the springtime?”

A-ya stared, eyes flickering at the name ‘Twelve.’ A similar response had sparked deep in the abysses of Izaya’s own orbs.

“Despite everything, Izaya-san,” said Akise, eyebrows raised, “she has a point. You are the prophet, aren’t you?”

“Appropriately ironic,” said Rika with a nod.

“Rika,” said Seraph. “Right when you thought it was time to give up, you got up again for your final stand. You stood, and fought—even as everything fell apart—again… and again…” Seraph closed her eyes momentarily, and lowered her hands from her mouth, sticking them in her pockets instead. “Everything falls apart. Always.” She paused. “Kaneki, you pressed forward even when you didn’t even want to be alive…” Her voice wavered, and Kaneki’s face was of stone as these heavy words settled. “You did your best… and you—still—selflessly—helped everyone else… Maybe you don’t know what it feels like to—to have a will to live for yourself, but… but you’re on the right track. After all… you’re still here, aren’t you?” She smiled ruefully. “Even if… Hide is dead. And—Touka, even. A-all of them…”

Kaneki dropped his gaze. As if he needed to be reminded.

“And Seidou… you really are a sweetheart, after all.”

The half-ghoul in question went rigid. “Excuse me?

Seraph couldn’t help but giggle. “Don’t even tell me that you haven’t changed at all. Can you really say you’re the same as you were at the beginning of the game?”

“Well, obviously not.”

“But even after you became a half-ghoul, you’ve developed for the better. It took some time. And some—disagreements.” She frowned pointedly, glaring up at the ceiling. The players figured she was indicating Muse. “Yeah, I gave Roppi the idea to use the Harrowing Blade on you in order to sever Muse’s control on that part… And Aureus may have been the one to get you hallucinating that ghostly past self, but you’ve made it this far, and have come to—to a positive conclusion, somehow, even if it isn’t ideal…” Her eyes shone. “And you did that on your own. It was your choices that earned you your place here. What we’ve been through doesn’t have to be what we are… Our choices shape that, believe it or not.”

Seidou didn’t answer, lips pressed into a thin line.

Her warmth softened as she turned to Shintaro. “Oh, Shin…”

Shintaro shifted his weight to his other foot, mildly discomfited by the nickname. Was it just him, or did it look she was peering into your soul? (By the perceptions of everyone else she’d looked in the eye—it wasn’t just him.)

“You starting out as the lame, jobless, hopeless, physically challenged…”

“We get it,” Shintaro said in a tight voice, and she cackled childishly.

“But you took the poison that Roppi dealt you and made yourself into a hero anyway. You didn’t just change the way you thought, you changed the way you acted. Ayano would be proud…” His eyes drifted downwards. “Well, actually, I think she is proud of you.”

His heart skipped a beat. What was that supposed to mean?

But before he could get a word out, she continued, “But of course, you’re not the only hero here. I’d call Seidou a hero too – all of you are heroes!” she cried, doing a fanciful little twirl. “Yes, even you, A-ya – dark-clad hero, right?” She twined her long fingers together, as if she had to place more effort on containing herself for this one. “A-ya… I can’t even begin to say…” She wrung her wrists, looking away. “I was so scared you wouldn’t… I-I was so worried that… B-but, of course, character development goes both ways. You’re still here, A-ya.”

A-ya furrowed his brow. He couldn’t comprehend it – why was this person so moved by who had lived and died? And it was a game master, no less…

“I’ve been meeting the concepts that make a story,” Kaneki whispered in awe as he realized this again. A little bit, he came out of his head.

Seraph smiled at him in affirmation. “I know what you’re thinking, too, A-ya,” she added, and the dark-clad boy straightened slightly, blinking wide, tired eyes. “Keep in mind… your choice from now on makes you who you are. It’s the same idea as the ‘you’re not where you’ve been, you’re where you’re going’—ah! Like Yukiteru!” She clapped her hands together. “Even with Rodd’s persistence in getting to you, you still made a good choice!”

“What defines ‘good,’ by your standards?” asked Izaya, quirking an eyebrow. “Though I do agree.”

Seraph giggled at the inquiry, bouncing on her feet again. “But really, though, Yukiteru, I’m so proud.

“Um… thanks, I think,” said Yukiteru, scratching at the back of his head.

“Hey, wait,” said Yukine, squinting at the game master. “Why are you talking about us as if we’re so close? Like… I don’t see why it matters so much to you, whether you’re against the game or not. I mean—unless you’re just… really empathic… I guess.”

A-ya nodded in agreement.

“W…well, I’m character development,” she said, as if it were obvious. “I’m depth! So… For every one of you… I have lived your pasts. I know all of the emotions you’ve felt, and I’ve felt every—tragedy… I feel it whenever I so much as look at you. But I want to look—because I… I want to be looked at too, even if I can be something that no one wants to see – a rotten past… Some of you, maybe… would prefer the past to the present.” She looked at A-ya, and at Shintaro, respectively. “Others, may not be able to bear it.” Her eyes flitted over Kaneki, and Seidou. Both of them unwillingly flinched at her gaze. Seidou made the silent resolution not to look her in the eye again. “And others still… may be missing large pieces… like you.” She smiled wistfully at the spirit, who shrunk just slightly. “You don’t remember a thing from before you died… The first time, that is. It’s another thing for me to carry, but I won’t give that to you.”

“O…oh,” Yukine said quietly.

“Does that mean,” said Izaya, crossing his arms loosely, “that you can return everyone’s memories of me back?”

“Why, do you actually want me to?” she asked, incredulous and perhaps a little bit mocking. “Now? After you’ve made a brand-new reputation?”

“It was a hypothetical question,” Izaya sniffed.

“Well, I can’t anyway,” Seraph said, and stuck out her tongue in a lazy show of something akin to adolescent rebelliousness. “That’s not my job. It’s Rainbow’s.”

“That would make sense,” said Yukine, shrugging.

Speaking of Rainbow,” said Seraph excitedly, “they and Grey and I – we’re so stuck!”

“Stuck on… how to proceed from here?” guessed Akise.

“No!” she squeaked. “No, we’re stuck on who we really wanna ship Yukiteru with!”

“…What?” Yukiteru looked confused and perturbed. Shintaro effectively facepalmed.

“Of course we want you with Akise, because—because Akise. That was like a thing for always! But—but A-ya.” She gestured with her hands to demonstrate the obviously dire predicament.

“Why the fuck is that what you’re worried about right now?” growled Seidou. “We’re focusing on the fact that were ending this stupid thing!”

“Uh, yeah,” Yukiteru agreed. “What he said.” He looked back at Akise for support, but he was only smiling, his hands in his pockets. Yukiteru furrowed his brow. Somehow he felt that he wouldn’t help things.

“Seidou has a point,” said Yukine. “As much as I want to figure out what that’s about… um… you said that there was no challenge for this level, right? I don’t wanna be the one to disappoint you, or anything like that… but—can we get going, then?”

Seraph tightened her jaw, then nodded stiffly. “Yeah. There’s only two rooms left, so…” She put her hands on her hips. “Just—show Muse that they’re nothing but—but a prideful little shit!

“With pleasure,” said Seidou.

“Is there any warning or aid that you could lend us before we continue?” asked Kaneki, and there were sounds of agreement from the others.

“I-I’m not allowed to tell you anything about any of the other rooms…” Seraph wrung her wrists, eyes wandering. “If I did… Muse would know, and they’d… reset the game, probably.”

“Okay, you don’t have to tell us,” said Shintaro hastily.

“I’m sure we can manage on our own,” concurred Rika, nodding.

“Let’s go then, huh, guys?” said the red-scarfed one, laughing nervously.

The others stared at him.

“I guess so,” said Yukiteru.

“Two to go,” agreed Seidou.

“For letting us through without trial… it was kind of you,” said Kaneki to Seraph as they began crossing the room, and she answered with a somewhat bitter smile.

“Kind…” she repeated, “…maybe.”

“Um,” said Yukine, frowning even as he confronted her, “…really, though. Thank you.”

She looked at him, her pale visage so wistful, tone saturated with regret. She drew back from him, and everyone else. “I’m sorry,” she said.

Unsure what else to do, Yukine bowed his head to her, backed up, and followed the others out the opposite door.

Seraph watched them go, eyes clouding as she brought her arms around herself and furrowed her brow. I wonder, she thought, who was it that brought in Akise, anyway? Her expression darkened. She started picking at the skin around her fingernails with her teeth. Not Aureus—so then…? And—why, is he free? Muse knows he’s out, don’t they?

She looked at their backs, deep in contemplation and longing even as the door closed with a harsh clack.


“By process of elimination, then,” said Akise, a hand to his chin, “this next one should be Rainbow and Greyson’s room.”

They were gathered in front of the door, now, with Kaneki’s hand on the handle as he scanned the expressions of everyone else to see whether they were ready.

“Oi, Shin, let us know if we’re about to walk into a time loop, alright?” said Seidou.

“Well if we are,” Shintaro said drily, “it’s the first time through.”

“I don’t think they’d do that sort of thing twice,” said Yukiteru. “Would they?”

“No, I’d say not,” said Izaya, while A-ya shrugged.

“We will not know what awaits until we enter for ourselves,” said Rika.

“Agreed – let’s go,” said Yukine, and Kaneki nodded, opening the door.

This room followed the same pattern as the previous four, but here, there were two obvious differences. Firstly, this flooring was seamless; there were no tiles. Secondly, there was not one accent color but two: green and blue.

“Akise, you said Greyson’s eyes turned green when they talked to you, right?” asked Yukiteru, stepping tentatively forward.

“Careful,” warned Kaneki, putting a hand to the younger’s chest to indicate that he, Kaneki, would be taking the lead. “We don’t know what the traps are in this room.”

“Kaneki’s right,” said Akise, touching his chin. “And yes, Yukiteru, that’s correct.”

“Maybe that means Rainbow’s eyes would be blue if they weren’t purple?”

“And Seraph’s would be red, and so on?” said Shintaro.

“Likely so,” agreed Akise.

“Blue, huh?” said Izaya drily.

“Yeah, I’d have hoped they’d be rainbow… You know… like their name,” said Shintaro.

Izaya raised his eyebrows at him.

“What? It would fit!”

“I understand,” offered Akise. “It breaks the expectation, much like Greyson not being grey or even silver… but green, instead.”

“Totally misleading,” mumbled Shintaro.

“Who was the one that had grey, again?” asked Yukine.

“It was Durden, I believe,” said Kaneki.

“Okay, but can we not walk so slow?” said Seidou, pushing forward. “The faster we go, the faster we react, make it through, and finish this stupid thing.”

“Seidou, that’s not—” Kaneki frowned as Seidou went ahead anyway, crossing the room and grabbing at the exit door’s handle, trying to turn it only to discover it was locked.

“Ugh, come on…”

“First of all, Seidou,” said Shintaro, “moving faster isn’t going to make you react faster.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But you know what I mean.”

“Well… sort of.”

“What’s that on the door, Seidou?” inquired A-ya, apparently deciding that now that one person could cross the room in its entirety, anyone could.

The others looked at one another – Izaya shrugged, and they all gathered at the opposite door. Unfortunately, whatever was on the door had gotten Seidou and A-ya to look quite grave.

“It’s a note,” said Yukiteru, peering at it. “What’s it say, guys?”

It was Kaneki that read it aloud, his tone one of painful sobriety: “‘There’s one too many in your group of eight – one such player must meet their fate. Only eight can cross beyond this line – not nine.’”

Akise frowned deeply at such a statement.

“What?” asked Yukine faintly. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

Oh, we’re far from joking,” said a voice from the loudspeakers – not the Voice, but a voice that originated from Greyson.

You all got to spend some time together,” said Rainbow’s voice. “So now you should be able decide: who will you keep?

And who will you get rid of?

One of you is a naughty player, and can’t make it to the end.

But which one is the traitor? Who do you think?

We’ll even make it easier on you.

You don’t even need to draw blood,” added Greyson, who seemed unable to help themselves from cackling at the show of growing horror or distaste from the individuals in the group of nine. Behind them, in the center of the room, the seemingly seamless ground began to open up into what looked to be an abyss – they couldn’t even attempt to see the bottom.

“Sh-shouldn’t Seraph’s room be right beneath?” asked Yukiteru, eyes wide.

“Her room was kinda small, wasn’t it?” answered Yukine, looking ill. “So this… would miss it.”

“How far does that…? Oh, god…” Shintaro ran a hand through his hair, swallowing thickly.

Well, good luck!” chirped Rainbow.

Choose well,” added Greyson lowly, punctuating the statement with another cruel cackle before the speakers went silent.

The air was thick between all of them. No one spoke for some time, everyone in varying degrees of distress or annoyance. A-ya tried to look at how everyone was reacting: Yukiteru looked unsurprsingly upset. Yukine looked the same, covered up with messily worn skepticism. Izaya wore a face of stone. Rika and Shintaro looked arguably the most horrified, but that was understandable. Seidou looked deeply bothered. Akise and Kaneki were both unreadable; they were probably deep in thought.

“I’ll jump in,” said Kaneki, and protest followed almost instantly.

“What?” said Seidou. “No—that’s stupid!”

“Kaneki, no, you’ve always been, like, one of the leaders!” cried Shintaro.

“That is not desirable at all,” murmured Rika.

“Come on, now, Kane-kun,” said Izaya, crossing his arms.

“That—that can’t be right,” said Yukine.

“You think you can be so selfish as to sacrifice yourself?” snarled Seidou. “You’ve got people needing you, y’know…”

“Would you suggest someone else?” asked Kaneki coolly.

“You’d better not answer, Seidou,” said Shintaro quickly.

“Nngh…”

A-ya closed his eyes, sticking his only hand in the pocket of his red-plaid pants. He felt the handle of Shintaro’s scissors kept there. He felt himself teetering at his own precipice. Was this what Seraph spoke of? Choice makes you who you are… right?

He opened his scarlet eyes. “It doesn’t matter,” he said, stepping forward.

“Huh?” Yukiteru blinked. “A-ya?”

Everyone had looked to the dark-clad boy now. “This task is nothing more than a trick,” he said. “This is designed to be both a paradox and a trap.”

“A-ya, you’re amazing!” Shintaro exclaimed, looking enlightened. “Because if someone here points the finger, they reveal themselves as the traitor with ill intent! There is no traitor among us until we start believing there is… so…”

“So we don’t have to kill anyone?” asked Yukiteru hopefully.

“Yeah, I was sorta hoping we were done with that,” said Yukine, shifting his weight from one side to the other.

Rika smiled. That was the A-ya she had placed such faith in!

“There he is,” said Izaya, equally happy to hear him back properly, it seemed. “There he is.”

“Exactly, Shintaro,” said A-ya, looking at the red-scarfed one. “There is no traitor. So, what does that mean?”

“If it’s a trick,” said Yukki, “then there should be another way out.”

“An alternative solution to the riddle,” said Rika.

“A loophole,” said Kaneki.

“Not this time,” said A-ya, and Yukiteru deflated, looking confusedly to his friend.

“What do you…?”

“If there is no traitor until we make one… then if we do nothing, nothing will happen,” said A-ya. “If nothing happens, we will wait here… and wait here. The masters aren’t patient. Something needs to happen.”

“But what, then?” frowned Yukine.

“Someone needs to make an accusation,” said A-ya feverishly, “so… so I’ll do that.” He curled his fingers around the handle of the scissors, and turned to Akise.

“Now, wait a minute, A-ya,” said Yukiteru. “You can’t just… I mean…”

A-ya didn’t listen. “Akise, I’ve been suspicious since we found out you were the mysterious prisoner waiting for us at the tower entrance. Not even that… You’ve been sketchy since the very beginning. You don’t fit in-game. You’re not a player – you’ve never counted. Why should you be allowed to make it to the end? Not to mention, you were a captive in this tower after having mysteriously disappeared – logically, you’re the one that needs to go.”

Izaya grimaced. “Maybe I spoke to soon,” he uttered, and Yukine swiped him in the arm. “Okay, ow.”

“You, Akise, are the odd one out,” said A-ya with a nervous smile. His grip tightened around the scissors. “So… I can get rid of you. So the rest of us—can make it to the end. Right?”

Akise maintained calm impassivity, his silver eyebrows raised. His pale lips were upturned ever so slightly in the ghost of a smirk. “Is that so?”

“A-ya, stop that…,” said Yukiteru, putting up his hands as if to calm A-ya down.

Something needs to happen,” he said, gaze focused on Akise, eyes wide and containing a spark reminiscent of the shine of mania. The scissors sparked red with electricity. “So, I’ll make it happen.”

“Doesn’t that make you the traitor, A-ya?” asked Izaya.

“A-are those my scissors?” asked Shintaro.

“A-ya!” Rika reprimanded. “Put those down. We will take everything into consideration!”

“Are you seriously gonna fall for the trap you just saw through?” demanded Seidou, squinting with his one eye. “What?

“Everyone calm down!” Kaneki commanded. “A-ya, lower the weapon.”

“I think you have it all wrong,” said Akise calmly, raising his hands up, palm forward. He stared back at A-ya with a rose gaze unwavering.

“Listen to him – listen to us,” said Yukine, looking between Akise and A-ya and Yukiteru.

A-ya barely spared him a glance, though it more looked like he was looking at Yukiteru, not Yukine.

Then Akise continued, “Maybe you’re right, and someone does need to die. But do you really think that it’s me who needs to go? Or is that just your bias, A-ya-kun? Think about it – if you’re really acting for the well-being of everyone who’s meant to make it, then you should make sure you make the right choice.”

“Well, that’s not…,” said Shintaro, trailing off in his uncertainty.

“Is it me,” said the silver-haired boy, “who the game masters have kept alive for this long, that should die? This is the masters’ game, not yours. What they want goes. And look at how far I’ve come… They pulled me from the game to prevent me from dying – do you really think that they want me to be the one cut off?”

A-ya hesitated, his eyes narrowing. His resolve wavered. The other seven watched the unfolding scene with growing apprehension. People began looking to one another, perhaps for answers. Was he implying that someone definitely had to go? Yukiteru recalled what Rodd had said about not all of their group making it, and felt dread sinking into the pit of his stomach.

Akise seemed the calmest of all. “If anyone should be killed in this group… Well, here’s a thought, A-ya-kun. Whose room is this? Rainbow and Greyson, bonds of the heart. Every game master has made sure to place meaning in the way they design things. Surely you’ve noticed it too… It’s lasted as a trope both in and out of the tower. It’s a theme that’s arched over the entirety of this game. Things have to make sense, they have to fit together in some meaningful way, don’t they?”

“There can’t be meaning in this,” whispered Rika. “There can’t… It…” She looked up at Kaneki, but he only held his chin, his eyes far away.

“That said,” pressed Akise, “who would be the logical conclusion to cut off from this group? Who here is the opposite of ‘bonds of the heart’? Who here has quite literally had these very ties severed?”

“What are you…?” said Yukine, eyes wide. He took a step back. There was only one person he could mean, wasn’t there?

“Akise…” Yukiteru didn’t know what to think. He looked between the two of them, the two that had been there for him as long they could… A-ya was understandably still deluded… but… Akise? If Akise had said it… that had to mean he was right… right? He saw the slight curve of Akise’s smirk spreading, and Yukki’s ears began to ring. He looked back at A-ya, his red gaze fixed on his silver-haired friend.

“Now…” said Izaya warily, “what exactly are you insinuating here, Akise-kun?”

“Not entirely sure what’s going down, but I don’t like it,” said Seidou.

Shintaro agreed whole-heartedly with a broken “Nuh-uh.” He was frozen in place, he could barely draw his own breath.

“Even so, we should keep all options open,” said Kaneki slowly.

“But… this cannot be right…,” murmured Rika.

A-ya tightened his grip on the scissors, his hand trembling. He began to take a step back from Akise, but then realized what he was doing, and stopped.

“Ah, A-ya-kun…,” said Akise. “…You’re trembling.”

A-ya froze. Suddenly the look on Akise’s face was a little bit too placid – that, smile… looked too similar to… His vision blurred and swam – no, no… I am not helpless, he thought to himself, I am not. I am not. I can… I will

“A-ya-kun… are you—?”

A-ya turned on his heel and stabbed the blade of the scissors beneath the ribcage of the one who spoke – none other than Izaya. His orbs of crimson-brown were rounded, caught between surprise and pain – the kind that splits your chest open, not your stomach. And A-ya twisted the blade, shoving into the informant with all his weight, throwing him over the edge of the hole and catching himself in time to avoid Izaya’s desperate grab for him, A-ya, and watching as his expression flashed with the raw emotion of someone betrayed. A-ya only set his jaw and stared without expression. This all took a moment—

“Wait!” Shintaro went to grab at the informant and succeeded at grasping Izaya’s wrist, his eyes flying wide as he was yanked downward, toppling head-first (well, arm-first) into the abyss.

“FUCK.” Seidou grabbed at Shintaro by the ankle before he was out of reach. “Oh, just let him go, he’s not that great anyway,” he grumbled.

“N-no! I won’t!” Shintaro closed his eyes against the seemingly endless drop in front of him, the blood rushing to his head and tears sprouting in his eyes at the pain of his leg being held up, and of his injured arm trying to hang on to Izaya, and of his entire shut-in body straining with the extra weight. Even with Izaya clinging to Shintaro’s wrist in return for dear life he felt him slipping, and so he grabbed at Izaya’s arm with his other hand, too. “I’m not letting you go, you damned jerk!”

Izaya’s immediate response to the ordeal was the fracturing of any sort of social face he’d rebuilt for himself: an outcry of something that might have been outrage—but he held himself together well enough to keep silent. How foolish that would have been. Especially after all this strenuous work of remaking himself… pathetic.

Instead, he looked down to see nothing but darkness, and felt the sensation of his arm threatening to dislodge from its shoulder socket. Thank goodness Shintaro had grabbed his good hand, he guessed. He wasn’t all too sure that he could trust the shut-in to hold on… but Shintaro had still grabbed him, hadn’t he?

“Even after me pushing you off of the balcony, eh?” he asked wryly.

“Do you want me to drop you?”

He looked up at Shintaro, whose eyes were screwed shut. “Well, not particularly…”

“For fuck’s sake, let him go,” said Seidou.

Izaya gave a slight, harsh laugh. He felt hollowed out and slightly bitter. He brought his bad hand to his gut, where the handle of the scissors still jutted out. Fingering the weapon lodged inside him, he thought of the A-ya that had once had… had… He had something with Izaya, didn’t he? Before his ties were severed. He looked up to try and see beyond the ledge, but couldn’t see A-ya any longer.

“Are you two okay?” Kaneki called down, tone urgent. Rika’s head also came over the edge, eyes wide and concerned.

“Oh, the weather’s great down here,” Izaya answered drily.

“M-my blood’s all in my face…,” said Shintaro. “Uh… S-Seidou, can you maybe pull us up?”

“I might’ve been able to… before that damned gas room,” said Seidou. Shintaro couldn’t see it right now, but he was still rather ashen. “I didn’t get the pleasure of covering my face like the rest of you… Nngh… can somebody help me, or—?” He began to feel a tug on his arm, and glared downwards. “Oi! Izaya! Are ya pulling or something?! Stop!”

“How could I possibly be pulling?” quipped the dangling informant. “I have no leverage! If I tried pulling, I’d be pulling myself up. I’d still be the same weight.”

“Well, if Shintaro let go, I wouldn’t have the problem of your weight!” growled Seidou.

“Oh, stop that. Here!” said Kaneki firmly, grabbing onto Seidou. Rika promptly clung to Kaneki’s leg and sat there on the ground. He looked down at her, and she looked up with wide, equally worried eyes. His expression softened. “Ah… Rika-chan… It will be okay.”

“Hey, Izaya!” called Yukine, kneeling on the edge of the pit. “Are you holding on down there?!”

Izaya frowned up at him, brow furrowed. “Hah? Of course I am, Yukine-kun…”

“Well, good, because I’m not gonna lose you too! Keep on holding; we’ll get you up!”

Izaya didn’t have an answer.

By now A-ya was looking down and into nowhere, eyes shrouded. Yukiteru was caught, unable to understand what was right or not. He wanted to ask Akise why this was right, but had no words. He wanted to help A-ya, but had no means. He wanted to save Izaya, but had no power.

“You can’t possibly side with either of them right now, can you?” asked Yukine of Yukiteru, and Yukki stared at the blond, looking lost.

“I… don’t really know,” he admitted. “I’m sure Akise has a good reason… He has to. He always does.”

Yukine clicked his tongue. “Just because you trust somebody doesn’t mean you trust them with everything. I can only trust Yato with so much, you know? It takes a little faith, but I can say ‘I trust him’… But you gotta know where to draw the line. The people you trust can be wrong, they can be miserable, pathetic, helpless fools from time to time.” He paused, drawing his lips into a thin line. Then his gaze both softened and darkened. “But, anyway… What makes you a good friend is sticking with them through that, and trying to show them what you think is the right path.”

Yukiteru gazed at the spirit, incredulous. Why had he never thought of such a thing? Ah… hadn’t Izaya said something similar, at that time? “But,” he said, “what if I lead them down the wrong path?”

Yukine shrugged. “Doubt isn’t worth it. You can’t afford to doubt yourself, either…”  Raising his eyes, he looked at Yukiteru seriously. “So, what do you think, Yukiteru? Do you think Izaya should drop? Because I don’t.” And Yukine walked past him and to Kaneki, saying, “Hey, I can help if you guys are trying to lift.”

“We could give it a try,” said Kaneki.

“Should I move?” asked Rika.

The half-ghoul considered. “No, I’m sure you’re just fine right there.” Then he looked to Yukine. “Grab around my waist. We’ll pull on three.”

“Wait,” said Seidou, “are we really gonna try this? Because I’m not feelin’ it.”

“Would you rather just stand there and hold onto Shintaro’s ankle?” asked Kaneki. Seidou couldn’t afford to look behind him, but he could hear the raised eyebrows in his tone. Owl’s expression soured. “I didn’t think so,” Kaneki answered his silence.

Yukiteru, on the other hand, looked over to Akise, who stood placidly with his hands in his pockets. Something was very wrong here. Was this really what Akise would be doing in a situation like this? Yukki felt a troubled feeling settling in his chest. Looking to A-ya, he saw his friend staring at his single hand, swaying slightly on his feet. He looked more pallid than was usual, even for his pale self. He shone in ill pallor, eyes feverish as he looked up, noticing Yukiteru.

“What if…” A-ya’s voice was so fragile; broken. He sounded as he had on the rooftop that night, once upon a time when they knew what it felt like to be truly alone together. “What if…I’m the demon?”

Yukiteru blinked and glanced over at Akise, who still seemed eerily calm. “He… Ii…Izaya isn’t… dead yet, A-ya, you can still help him.” The deep look of horror on A-ya’s face bore into Yukiteru – the feeling that exuded from the dark-clad one was akin to the feeling wrought by that crimson night, when C-ta had died. When A-ya had died. Technically.

Before anyone knew it, as Yukine was preparing to heave backwards, he felt a single arm around his own torso, and turned to see A-ya, averting his desperate gaze. Yukiteru was quick to follow, smiling assuredly at the spirit. And the five of them together (six when counting little Rika) began to pull in sync, all on Kaneki’s orders.

“One… two… three!

They pulled.

“One… two… three!

Again.

“One… two… three!

Were they… sliding towards the pit?

“…Three!

“This isn’t working,” said Yukine anxiously, and Seidou released a displeased yelp as his feet slipped from the ledge.

“It is—getting harder,” said Rika.

“Izaya’s pulling!” accused the owl.

“He can’t pull, Seidou!” said Shintaro.

“What, is this tug-o-war to you?” frowned Yukine.

“This is stupid is what it is!” Seidou snapped in return.

Stop it! Both of you!” ordered Kaneki. “Yukine. A-ya. Yukiteru. All of us are going to shift to give us better grounding. Yukiteru, I’ll presume that your abilities are useless right now?”

“I—yeah…”

“Alright. We’ll keep trying. Ready?” Everyone shifted accordingly. “One… two… three!” They pulled with all their might, made it one step back… and began to slide forward.

“It’s not like they can be getting any heavier,” said Yukine, breathless.

“It’s more like we’re getting sucked in,” agreed Yukiteru, eyes wide.

“Someone does need to go, after all,” mumbled A-ya. “It’s worthless… All of it…”

“Don’t talk like that,” said Yukine.

“He’s sort of a pessimist,” Yukiteru said, apologetic.

“No kidding…”

“But,” said Kaneki, “for whatever reason, the masters are making it so we’re being drawn into this hole…”

“What’ll we do if we can’t pull them up?” asked Yukine.

“We will,” said Yukiteru firmly.

“We will,” Kaneki agreed. “On three. Ready?…”

Shintaro felt all stretched-out, and his head felt as though it would burst with all the blood collecting there. Maybe I’ll have a brain aneurysm or something, he thought hopefully. And then maybe I won’t have a photographic memory. That would be great. He was starting to lose feeling in his arms, so he braced himself for the vertigo and the risk of his eyeballs popping out, and opened his eyes. Yep. Izaya was still there, dangling with nothing, absolutely nothing beyond him.

“Shintaro.”

Shintaro blinked at him, trying to clear his vision. It was all bright and starry, not to mention he sorta felt dizzy…

Izaya was looking up at him with those dead eyes of his, dark and inscrutable. This was the Izaya that implored of him to carry on the goal of ultimate alliance as he, Izaya, remained with the demon-possessed A-ya. This was the Izaya he’d found at the coffee bar, turned away from everyone else. This was the Izaya that relayed the events that happened to him, and the information left by Aru Akise; the Izaya that insisted that Shintaro keep that little blue notebook, because the informant just didn’t need it anymore.

“What is it?” he asked, feeling the straining tug on his leg of another heave from above.

Izaya’s pupils were as dark as the abyss below. “Let me go.”

Shintaro’s head cleared enough to allow urgency. “What? No.”

“I said let me go, Shintaro,” he said. His voice rang hollow. Even as Shintaro opened his mouth to protest again, he felt Izaya’s hand release his wrist.

“H-hey, what do you think you’re…? Wait.” He tried to hold tighter to Izaya, and was suddenly grateful for that puffy beige trim of his jacket, the bases of his palms catching on its thickness. He grimaced at the shift of weight, clinging to him desperately even as his arms regained feeling enough to remind him they’d been gouged at. They throbbed in rhythmic protest, his bandages stretching further with him as he fought to hold on. “I-I won’t drop you…”

He flashed a dead smile up at him. “I’m not the one who needs to make it, Shintaro-kun. You know it as well as I do. All of us will fall in, at this rate. If a sacrifice must be made… well.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Shintaro murmured, his vision beating in tune to his heartbeat.

“Shintaro.”

What? My head’s all full of blood, that’s why my eyes are watering—”

“Thank you for trusting me. It was a bold move, you know. God knows I wouldn’t trust me. Maybe you’ve got a brave streak.”

Shintaro stared at him incredulously. What was he going on about? He couldn’t be serious right now…

He felt the fluff of faux fur beginning to slip from his hands, and the scarfed one gripped with more insistence, expression desperate. Izaya smiled. In the end, everyone was nothing but another spatter of red on the pavement. He wondered what his would look like. He felt a tugging sensation from above, and he slipped further. As he swung slightly, he could make out Seidou, holding Shintaro. Kaneki, holding Seidou. Rika and Yukine, clinging to Kaneki. These connections—had he, really…?

His smile faded. What did ‘tomorrow’ look like? How did he want it to look?

And he fell.

Shintaro’s hands lost their grip, and the informant slipped from him like the inevitable grains of sand to the pitiless wave. He cried out, reaching further even as he lurched backwards with a heave from above.

“What’s wrong?” called Yukine, tugging backwards with all his might. Only one of Kaneki’s legs was still on solid ground, kept stationary by Rika’s stubborn presence. Yukine was leaning over the edge himself at this point, Rika at his side and A-ya and Yukiteru at his back.

“I… I-I…”

Shintaro seemed incapable of response. Yukine got a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Oi, pull harder!” called Seidou, and on three, they did so, managing to gain ground this time, only to slip further forward than before.

“It is still pulling us in,” Rika said, tone taut, as Yukine dug in his heels and felt utterly horrified as half of his sneakers made it over the edge.

Shintaro felt ill dread settling in him, his lips going numb. He watched hopeless tears fall straight down and into the black. He’d lost his voice. It’s… still…?

Yukiteru, like the others behind Seidou, could not tell what had happened at the head of this horribly derailed train going on here. This is getting ridiculous… We’re losing more and more to the edge. Can we really pull them all back up again? Maybe—if everyone were to help?

He felt a hand at his back, and his heart lifted. Akise! He turned to grin at him, grateful, even as he looked into his familiar face as the boy detective rammed into Yukiteru, shoving forward as he stumbled and A-ya and Yukine and Rika slid, staggering and pitching forward into the pit and into the black in utter disbelief as Yukiteru tried to turn and look more properly into the visage of his friend only to catch a glimpse of a pale smirk and eyes glowing silver.

And so, they plummeted into ebony uncertainty.

 

Chapter 113: Proof

Chapter Text

 

Upon the event of his imprisonment, Akise entered the room Durden had gestured to, knowing there was nothing else he could really do. “Will I be able to ask questions?” he asked, and Durden closed the door behind them with a click.

The game master pointed at a cushion on the floor. “Sit.” Akise frowned at him slightly, but didn’t otherwise move. “No, really. You’ll want to sit down for this one.”

Narrowing his eyes in suspicion, Akise obeyed, eyeing the bald one as he casually leaned against the door behind him. There was only the cushion and the wall of screens as their company here. At this point, the screens had yet been dark.

“You’re a prisoner now, but you’ve figured that much.” Durden looked at him meaningfully, and Akise’s gaze did not waver. “You didn’t do anything wrong; I want to make that very clear. You did everything perfectly, in fact. We’re the ones that dropped you in-game in the first place, kid. You were no mistake. You were never a player. That make sense?”

Slowly, Akise nodded in confirmation.

“Aru Akise… I really like you,” Durden admitted. “You’re a truth-seeker, aren’t you? I admire that. The ultimate truth is something I’ve been looking for my whole life… or so I tell myself. What I’m gonna do is I’m going to tell you the truth. It’s what you want, isn’t it? I figure it’s the least I can do for you… because I know that I wish I knew a little more about myself.” He flashed an ironic smile.

“Now, Akise… We’ll start with this: the entire time in-game, you were doing exactly what you were programmed to do. That idea to help out Yato? That was exactly what we wanted from you.” He smirked at the younger, who looked increasingly ruffled. “Now that half of your group’s dead, there’s nothing else we really need you for on the game field. But the good news,” he said, eyebrows arching as he held up his index finger, “is that you’re gonna have the best seat in the house, from here on. You’ll get free food, no one’s gonna kill you…”

“Just a second,” Akise cut in, brow furrowed. He looked about ready to stand up in his indignation. “Are you trying to tell me that nothing I’ve done here was of my own free will?”

“Akise, it never was.”

He didn’t know what to say to that, and so said nothing.

“Let me clarify: you’re not a human like you think you are. You’re an information processor. A tool. A universal observer, made by the god named Deus ex Machina. All we did is bring you here and reprogram you just a little bit, just so that you did what we wanted you to do.”

“That’s not true,” he protested, but Durden only shrugged.

“Sorry, that was a spoiler.”

“I have my own free will,” he insisted firmly.

“Akise, you don’t exist. Your existence is more questionable than all of the players on that field right now.”

“If you observe my presence, then I am real.”

Durden raised his eyebrows again, seemingly impressed by the argument. “I never said you weren’t ‘real.’ I said you didn’t exist. You think you have free will? Only as much free will as the rest of us. If it’s any consolation, you’re not the only puppet. We all have our strings attached.”

“I—”

“Stop.”

Akise held his tongue.

“You haven’t done a single thing that we didn’t already plan out. Showing up at that traditional house? That was us. Giving Izaya the information sheets? Us. Writing down the info for yourself? Also us. Thought it was your idea to play dead and scare the shit outta your group, only to trip up Roppi at the end? Nope. Thought it was you who spurred the group to get moving again when Izaya decided he didn’t wanna play the game anymore? Nope. Thought it was you taking an interest in A-ya, figuring out that he had issues before it was obvious? Nope. Thought it was all your motivational bullshit that snapped Yukiteru out of his funk? No, we needed you to do that. Piecing together the game masters? Gathering information about Aureus, and Rodd, and everyone else you could possibly pinpoint? Figuring out the unspoken rule of the game? Helping Yukiteru? Giving Rika hope? Making one last standing fight against Yato, and accepting your fate all the same?”

Akise’s face had begun to shift from indignance to fear. He looked determined to prove him wrong, but he had no tools to do so.

Durden smiled. He was getting it. Good. “Look on the bright side: this means it wasn’t your fault that you got your teammates killed. Plus, you’re not dead. That’s two pointers.”

“I’ll prove you wrong.”

Durden smiled at Akise, maybe a little bit smug. “I look forward to the day you do. But disprove me once, and the whole theory’s wrong. Be the black swan if you can, Akise. I’d be honored to be proven wrong by you.”

Akise did not look convinced.

“By all means.” Durden spread his arms, backing up to the door behind him. “But if I’m the one that proves you wrong… please. It’s nothing personal.” And he opened the door, and backed from the room with a bow.

And now, in the present, Aru Akise took a few paces backwards, staring over the lip of this abyss he’d just forced everyone into. Prove him wrong… I…

He stared into his open hands. What was the purpose of this shame? Did someone else will him to feel it? He backed himself up, slow and steady to the wall, which he leaned on in hopes to support what remained of his reality, his certainty. Sliding to the floor, he sat. At least the ground could remain solid. Yukiteru-kun, I’m sorry. And he brought a pale hand to his face, eyes dulled and lost. If this, in reality, is my ‘Truth,’ then…

He closed his eyes. Was there some way he could fix this? Reset occurred to him, but that couldn’t be the right choice; absolutely not. Was that, too, implanted? Moreover – was his rejection of the idea implanted?

Further, was there any way they would be okay after pitching into seemingly endless darkness? Could they have made it? What should he, could he do? Was there a right answer? Could he find it, or was it beyond him? Could he still prove Durden wrong? But…

He heard footsteps, soft. Akise opened his eyes to a pair of pink sneakers, and looked up into the face of a young girl, perhaps around the age of Rika. Akise watched with intrigue the way light bent around her, the world itself making room to leave space for herself. She wasn’t meant to be here. Exactly the opposite of Akise’s own predicament of fixed meaning. He could not budge from this predestined fate. She defied the laws of being.

This girl tilted her head at him, brushing thin strands of light brown locks behind her ear. Her eyes were disarmingly gentle and clear of blight – innocent. They were deep brown, and peered into him in a way that made him feel distinctly see-through.

“Well, hi,” she said. “I’m Anna.”


Falling into the dark was much like falling head-first into unconsciousness – being out as soon as your head hits the pillow, so to speak. The moment no light could reach you, it was as though you were at rest.

Yukine wondered if this was what death was supposed to feel like. Was this it? Was it game over now? Had they fallen and hit ground so fast that they couldn’t even feel it? A blissful and sudden passing – so sudden, in fact, that they couldn’t even tell the difference? Surely, Yukine thought, this had to be what death felt like to regular people. Third time’s the charm, right?

There was no sense of being, no sense of solidity, not at first. And yet, he began to feel a heaviness, and the hard, solid sensation of something flat pressing into his entire front half. No, it wasn’t that it was pressing… I’m… laying down? His eyelids squeezed further shut before he dared open them to pitch darkness. He bit his lip hard. I should have kept my eyes shut. I should have kept them shut.

Yukine didn’t like the dark.

Feeling his heart beginning to thump faster in panic, he turned onto his side, eyes wide but blind, as he forced himself to reach upwards and feel only open air. He was only slightly relieved, but he took this as an okay to sit up, and did so, feeling his chest and wondering what had happened. He could scarcely remember falling. He was breathing hard now, the sheer darkness pressing in on him despite being in what must have been open space, at least in his immediate area.

“I…is anyone there?”

The voice scared Yukine right into cardiac arrest, he was positive. He decided he’d died again, if that were possible. “Yeah,” he choked out.

“Yukine? Is that you?”

Some relief trickled into his chest, but its tightness did not release much. It was Yukiteru’s voice. “Y-yeah.” He coughed, willing himself to keep his voice steady. “Yeah, it’s me.”

“Oh, thank goodness…” A pause. “Someone else is here, too, but they won’t wake up. I think it’s A-ya.”

“Oh.” Yukine blinked, even though it didn’t make a difference. “Is there anyone else here?”

“I haven’t felt or heard anyone… except for you, of course. But to be honest I didn’t leave this spot as soon as I found A-ya.”

Yukine nodded, not that that made a difference either. He clung to every word, wishing this dreaded darkness would let up. “Do you know what happened, Yukiteru? I barely even remember falling off the edge. I know it happened, but… It’s like a dream—really freaky. Maybe this is the dream, do you think?”

Yukiteru was silent for a little while, and Yukine started to hear his heart in his ears again. Please, please don’t stay silent.

He was about to speak up again when Yukki answered, “Akise pushed us in.”

Yukine stiffened. “What? Why would he…?” He considered everything leading up to their fall, but struggled to come up with a reason.

“He wasn’t really… acting like himself.” A pause. “But I thought I saw his eyes were silver.”

“Silver?” Yukine repeated. “What does that mean? Is it like that purple-eye thing?”

“Maybe,” said Yukiteru, “but I don’t…” He trailed off. There were the sounds of stirring. Yukine’s physiological alarm bells began setting off again, but it seemed that this time it was only A-ya awakening. “A-ya, A-ya, is that you? I really hope that it’s you; it would sure be uncomfortable if it weren’t.”

“Wh… huh? Yukiteru?”

“Oh, thank god.”

“Heads up, there’s three of us,” said Yukine.

“Oh… Yukine,” said A-ya, subdued.

“Come to think of it,” said the spirit, “are you guys okay? For falling who knows how far, I’m doing pretty good. But…”

“I’m alright,” said Yukiteru. “A-ya?”

“I’m… still missing an arm.”

Yukine sighed. “But nothing new. Good.”

“Thank goodness,” said Yukiteru.

“It sure is dark in here,” A-ya commented. Yukine heard what might have been A-ya sitting up. “We must be at the bottom.”

“What are the chances we’re actually supposed to be down here?” said Yukine.

“I guess that’d be a good thing,” said Yukki.

“Or what if,” said A-ya, “this is just where we’ll remain as the next versions of us play the reset game? Or worse, we’re just where players go when they die.”

“A-ya, that’d be horrible,” said Yukki.

“I guess it could be worse,” shrugged Yukine. “But I wish it weren’t so… er, dark…”

“I like it dark like this,” said A-ya. “It’s great for ghost stories.” He paused, remembering Yukine was technically a ghost. “Wait a minute.”

“A-ya, isn’t that kinda… rude? Or something? Yukine, help me.”

Yukine had no words. He, the ghost, was the one who was probably most terrified. He felt abhorrently ironic and equally indignant. “Not rude, but I don’t wanna hear ‘em anyway.”

“Why not?” asked A-ya.

“A-ya, please,” said Yukki, a trace of discomfort in his tone betraying him. Yukine felt a little less foolish about his fear.

“Well, fine… What about telling urban legends that don’t have to do with ghosts?”

“A-ya.” Yukine could hear the frown in Yukki’s tone.

“None of that either? I swear I won’t tell any demon stories.”

“That’s not funny.”

“Mm, fine…” A-ya seemed to give up, thankfully. “But you know, if we’re gonna be here for an eternity, we’ll have to find something to do.”

“Maybe find a light switch,” mumbled Yukine.

“Well, we should do some finding, probably. The others could be around too, alive. A-ya, can you use your lightning to see?”

There was a pause. “No, I’ve got nothing.”

“Well, when it’s this dark… um, we should all hold hands or something,” said Yukiteru. “We’ll stick together, try to find a wall, and then… just follow that, I guess. Is that a good idea? Yukine?”

“Yukiteru?”

Yukine blinked; A-ya’s voice had moved.

“Huh? A-ya?” said Yukiteru.

“I didn’t say anything,” said A-ya.

There was a beat of silence. “A-ya, please don’t joke like that.”

Yukine was ever so slightly relieved to hear the fear in Yukiteru’s voice. At least he wasn’t alone in the anxiety.

“But I’m not joking,” said A-ya.

It was less comforting to hear the fear in A-ya’s voice.

There a soft clicking sound, and a flash of light blinded the lot of them – not that they could see anything anyway. After Yukine had shielded his eyes, waiting for his vision to adjust, he peered into the light that now illuminated the space they were in: it was a lantern, held by A-ya. But something was wrong: he’d lost the arm that was holding that lantern, so…?

Brow furrowed and heart thumping in his ears, Yukine looked over to where he’d originally heard Yukiteru’s voice, and saw—yes, Yukiteru, holding onto the only arm of the dark-clad A-ya, much worse for wear.

“U…um…?” Yukiteru looked at Yukine with the most horrified, perplexed look. Yukine shook his head to indicate that he had no idea what to think either. The two A-ya’s were staring at one another, each with the same expression on their identical faces – well, the one-armed A-ya was still a bit mottled with blood. Yukine noticed that the uninjured A-ya also wore a black hoodie rather than a black vest and red tie.

The two A-ya’s spoke in unison, in the same breathless, soft voice: “Doppelgangers.

“Okay, what the hell’s going on?” Yukine demanded, getting to his feet. Despite the inconceivable situation, he was grateful to the fact that Hoodie A-ya had brought light to them.

“I’m just glad I found you,” said Hoodie A-ya, stepping forward with the lantern. Yukiteru followed Yukine’s lead and got to his feet, Dark-Clad A-ya following behind, very slowly. Yukki wasn’t holding onto Dark-Clad A-ya’s arm now. Yukine pinched the bridge of his nose. This was unnecessarily confusing. Two A-ya’s and two Yuki’s – really? “It’s been long enough.”

“What do you mean, long enough?” Yukine frowned.

Yukki nodded, lost for words.

Dark-Clad A-ya seemed the most stunned, his mouth twitching into an intrigued, vaguely fearful smile.

Hoodie A-ya seemed bored. Apparently, doppelgangers were only interesting for the first few seconds. “I’ve been stuck here for a while. Not that that’s anyone’s fault,” he shrugged. “I am glad to see you again, Yukiteru.” He cast his dull eyes downwards. “I wasn’t sure that I would, you almost not being one of the eight… But after all…”

“I’m a little lost, here,” Yukiteru admitted.

“I figured,” said Hoodie A-ya. He turned scarlet eyes to the spirit, and Yukine shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “Ah… I remember you, Yukine.”

“Oh—yeah?”

His eyes flickered the same way that Dark-Clad A-ya’s had when he’d recalled that Yukine was a spirit. “I’m glad I get to meet you properly,” said Hoodie A-ya.

Yukiteru stared at this new – old? – A-ya, trying to wrap his head around it. He did suppose that this other A-ya acted like A-ya did back in the beginning of the game.

“I guess I can’t have fun with this forever,” said Hoodie A-ya, digging in the pocket of his hoodie. “Shouldn’t keep you in the dark.”

Yukiteru couldn’t help but laugh, but he covered his mouth when Yukine frowned at him. Neither A-ya reacted, save for a glance from Dark-Clad A-ya. Yukki could tell that Dark-Clad A-ya was tense; he could see it in the way he held himself, and the tautness of his shoulders.

Hoodie A-ya pulled a cellphone from his jacket and held it up to Yukiteru, screen to Yukki. The cloaked one’s eyes widened at the message on it: [I’ll be waiting at the entrance.] The phone screen told him the message had been sent.

Heart skipping a beat, Yukiteru hurriedly pulled out his phone to check – no, he was right; that was the last message he’d gotten from—Akise. “I don’t understand,” Yukiteru said faintly.

All three of the others were looking at him.

“Wait—what’s going on?” asked Yukine.

“I’ve been keeping in contact with Yukiteru as soon as I had the opportunity to,” Hoodie A-ya explained. “This, here, is where I’ve been kept. It’s the entrance to the highest level of the tower – not that I’ve seen it. But I’ve met the one that calls themselves ‘Muse.’”

“So you’ve been the one texting him?” said Yukine. “But you’re…”

Dark-Clad A-ya took a step back.

“If that was you…” said Yukiteru, real slow, “…then why did you call yourself Akise?”

Hoodie A-ya shrugged, monotone as ever. “You were acting a little bit irrational over the whole ‘betrayal by Yato’ thing.” He looked over at Yukine. “Yato sort of killed most of his group, and he thought Akise was involved because he’d gone missing,” he explained. And without waiting for Yukine’s following inquiries, he continued, “And since you were getting to the point of being that unstable, I figured that the best option would be to be Akise, who was the most believable culprit. Why would I, A-ya, be texting you when I’m busy parading on a possessed rampage like some fool puppet of the game at hand?”

Dark-Clad A-ya frowned, as if unsure whether he should be offended by himself.

Hoodie A-ya pocketed the cellphone again, visage dull as ever. “But anyway, if I masqueraded as Akise, it would not only make sense, but it would help stabilize you. I could keep you from snapping, too. I didn’t want to be too late again…” Here, he averted his eyes once more.

“What do you mean, again?” asked Yukine.

“Do you mean… like C-ta?” asked Yukiteru tentatively.

Hoodie A-ya shifted, eyes down, with one hand going back in his pocket. The other lowered the lantern a bit. Yukki knew this was a yes.

“But, okay,” said Yukine. “Logical or not, why are there two of you?”

“There isn’t,” said Hoodie A-ya, and Dark-Clad A-ya blinked comically wide eyes. Then Hoodie A-ya pointed an index finger at Dark-Clad A-ya, his scarlet eyes narrowing. “That A-ya, the one with you, is a fake.”

“A fake?” repeated Dark-Clad A-ya. “What makes me the fake?”

Hoodie A-ya allowed himself a small, bitter smile. “C-ta was the one who made the argument – if the game masters can bring in gods and demons, then they can bring in a fabrication just as easily. That’s you.” Before the other one of him could protest, he went on, “I’m the one who had the late night talks with Yukiteru the first three nights in game. Then, C-ta…” He faltered, then pulled himself back together and said firmly, “I thought I’d died, and woke up here, instead. At first I figured this was just where players go when they’re offed, but I couldn’t find C-ta anywhere, no matter how long I looked… By the time Muse gave me access to what was going on real time, you and the fake had already found a game master and separated from Shinichi. Muse wasn’t kidding, back then—saying that you can’t get out of the game if you don’t make sure you’re dead enough.” A harsh edge was creeping into his monotone speech, his scarlet eyes narrowed and dark. “I guess this was the price I had to pay for trying to kill myself.”

Yukine looked incredibly bothered. He looked over at Yukiteru, who seemed pallid even in the warm light of the lantern. Whatever event this A-ya was referencing, Yukki remembered it.

“But,” said Dark-Clad A-ya, “I’m… I did all that too. I’m A-ya…” He trailed off, then narrowed his own eyes at the one claiming to be the true A-ya. “You’re nothing more than another trick. You’re trying to fool us – this is another trial, or—or you’re from a different route of the game, and you’re confused… or you want a place at Yukiteru’s side again. But—this is my place. It’s mine.”

“There is no such thing,” said Hoodie A-ya with a cruel smile, “as lies or truths.”

“Only things that sound like lies, and things that sound like truths,” Dark-Clad A-ya answered firmly. “My proposal is that you’re the fake. If both Yuki’s believe me, then I’m A-ya.”

“Yukiteru knows me better than anyone else alive,” Hoodie A-ya returned easily. “I know he’ll make the right choice.

Yukine looked at Yukiteru. Hoodie A-ya was right about one thing – Yukki knew A-ya far better than he did, but Yukki looked no surer than Yukine felt. That was sure encouraging.

Yukiteru looked from one A-ya to the other, mind reeling. A-ya isn’t A-ya? But h… was still A-ya, real or not. This A-ya… He looked at Dark-Clad A-ya. ...This A-ya is still the A-ya who hugged me back that morning, after I thought he’d died. He and I found Aureus together – he still confided in me about the ones he’d lost, and his dreams… He still fought for me, with me, and even against me, all for what he’d really thought was my sake… I think. Even in the most recent battle, he suffered, was exorcised, and… us holding each other after everything was over… How could that not have been the same closeness?

Yet, if it really were another A-ya, and this is the A-ya that I was with in the very beginning, that means that this ‘original’ A-ya is the one who talked to me, that first night. Shared his loneliness, and watched the stars…

Well, then… I’d have watched the stars with both of them… Either at the fountain or on the rooftop… so…

Even if the original A-ya were telling the truth… the replacement A-ya was still as close to me… wasn’t he?

“C-can’t we… just save both of you?” he asked in a broken voice, and Yukine gave him a slightly exasperated look, like no, that’s not how it works, Yukiteru, we can’t have two A-ya’s. Come on. We already have two Yuki’s.

“Two copies of the same person cannot exist in the same realm,” said Hoodie A-ya. “Much like the principle of doppelgangers, only one can exist.”

“Meaning, what,” said Dark-Clad A-ya, “that one doppelganger has to kill and replace the other?”

“Neither of you need to die,” Yukiteru insisted. “So, um…”

“Obviously this is unnatural,” said Yukine, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Something is wrong here. We can’t just leave it as-is, even if that’s easiest.”

“I just told you, that one’s a fake,” said Hoodie A-ya. “If he’s a fake, that means he’s a trick. A product of the game. That means that you can’t win the game if the fake is with you, because even if he’s not aware of it, he’s only destined to lead you to reset.”

“Then whichever one is the fake,” said the Dark-Clad A-ya, “definitely needs to go.”

“Does it really need to be like this?” asked Yukiteru, desperate. “What if both of you are A-ya? I mean… If you’re really the A-ya that I first met, and you’re the A-ya that’s been with me since day four, then I’ve grown close to both of you. Even if the second A-ya made some mistakes, he’s still just as kind at heart…”

“Yukiteru,” frowned Dark-Clad A-ya, “I was A-ya the whole time. There was no switching. I remember dying.”

“Implanted memories,” said Hoodie A-ya. He looked vaguely intrigued, but it dropped quickly. “Ah well, not that it matters. I can circle back around for you, if I have to… I should look for the others, since they’re here. The rest of the eight, that is… I don’t have the time for this arguing. Not worth it.”

Yukine had a thought. “Yeah, best to get to the others first. Just give us some time. Obviously some of us are indecisive,” he added, frowning at Yukki, who gave him a look of stern determination. “If you’re really A-ya, you probably want to catch up with Izaya, huh?”

“Mm,” Hoodie A-ya gave a nod of confirmation. “There’s a lot left unsaid.”

“Huh?” said Yukiteru, eyes flickering warily. “Like what?”

“Maybe he wasn’t affected by that tie-cutting thing,” suggested Yukine. “Like Akise.”

“That’s right,” said Hoodie A-ya. “Being in the tower nullifies a lot of the in-game mechanisms, including the point when Yato severed Izaya’s ties.”

Yukiteru furrowed his brow, looking at him, and at Yukine. “But…”

Dark-Clad A-ya understood, actually smiling a thin, wicked smile. Thank you, Yukine. “That’s weird,” he said to his other self. “According to Izaya, I didn’t meet him until day six.”

“Hm?” The other A-ya’s eyes widened just slightly. “Wh… no, you misunderstand—”

A line!” Yukine cut him off, drawing a boundary between the fake with the lantern and the three of their little group. “You’re the fake. You said you remembered me, but I never met you until I came back. Even if you could remember Izaya, you wouldn’t have ever actually interacted with him. Otherwise I would have remembered you. Izaya was in my group, and I died on day four, a day after you would have ended up here.”

“It’s just a logic riddle,” A-ya smiled at the fake.

“O-oh…” Yukiteru looked at the real A-ya. “Uh… I’m sorry?”

“He almost sent me into an existential crisis,” A-ya shrugged. “I wouldn’t worry too much about not being able to tell.” He looked at Yukine with a slight nod of his head and a Mona Lisa smile. “Thank you.”

“No problem, A-ya,” he smiled earnestly back.

“Well,” said Yukiteru, “I’m sorry, not-A-ya, but I guess you sound like a lie after all.” He stepped towards the barrier. The A-ya look-alike seemed offended, and took a step back in answer. Yukki’s blue eyes narrowed. “I don’t suppose you could tell us what’s actually going on.”

The fake opened his mouth, closed it, and dropped the lantern. The falling contraption caught their eyes, perhaps more effectively than would be natural for dropping a lantern. By the time they could return their attention to the fake, he had disappeared without a trace, save for the lantern. Seemed that upon the light’s fall, the floor began to flicker to life in unevenly spaced floor panels that glowed softly, not too hard on the eyes.

Cautiously, Yukine lowered the barrier, his hand still in its halberd position. All of them looked around, wondering where he could have gone. At least the lantern wasn’t their only light now. With this and with the fact their attention wasn’t focused on the mysterious fourth person, they could take in more of their surroundings.

Besides the lighting panels, the ground was plain black, and this place seemed to be filled with walls of glass at odd angles. Walls of glass and walls of mirrors – it was like one of those mirror mazes in the Fun House at a carnival.

“Mirrors,” said A-ya.

“Do you think he came out of one of those?” asked Yukine.

“I don’t think I like that idea,” said Yukiteru, his bravado shriveling again. “There are a lot of them.”

“I’m not appreciating the mirrors either…” Yukine went over to the lantern and cautiously picked it up with the hand that wasn’t poised to draw another boundary. “But it would make sense.”

“But that A-ya didn’t look like this A-ya,” Yukki protested.

“Things that emerge from the mirror realm don’t need to be exact copies of that which they reflect,” A-ya said ominously.

“That said, we should be wary of copies of us,” said Yukine.

“Or of anyone else we find that we know has made it,” added A-ya.

“Oh, man…” Yukiteru rubbed at his arm restlessly. “There are other explanations besides the mirrors, aren’t there?”

“Occam’s Razor, Yukiteru,” said A-ya. “It is the simplest explanation, so it is probably closest to ‘truth.’”

“Where do you get all these references?” asked Yukine, brow furrowed.

A-ya shrugged slightly, wary of his one torn shoulder. “Which ones? That one’s more philosophy.”

“It’s interesting. Could you teach me some of this stuff, if we have the chance?”

A-ya’s eyes shone, even though his expression didn’t change. “That would be fun.”

“For now, though…” said Yukine, “…we should try to find the others.”

“And make sure we stick together,” said Yukiteru, and Yukine nodded, grabbing ahold Yukiteru’s wrist as Yukki grabbed A-ya’s. Yukine led the way into the maze, holding the lantern up as they proceeded.

 

Chapter 114: Toys

Chapter Text

 

Rika had awoken clinging to somebody’s foot. She sat up in pitch darkness, figuring that the only person she’d be holding fast to the foot of could be Kaneki. So she shifted onto her hands and knees, crawling to where his head would be and feeling the floor until she could find his arm. “K…Kaneki?” she whispered. She could hear nothing but her own breathing. Even her murmurs were too loud for this horrid silence. They had fallen into the abyss, but… now what? She couldn’t even see herself, let alone her surroundings—or anyone that might be around her. “Are you awake?” She did not appreciate the strain in her own voice. “Please, wake up…” She settled, sitting on her legs and bowing her head in the blackness. “I cannot continue alone…”

She did not know how long she knelt there before she felt him stir, her eyes flying open even though it did not change her vision any. Her lids might as well have remained closed. “Y…you’re awake,” she spoke quietly.

She heard his subtle shifting. “What happened?” he inquired, his voice soft.

“We fell into the abyss. I know not what to do from here.” She fought to keep her voice steady. “I was able to find you because you were close, and you did not wake up right away. I didn’t want to look around in pitch darkness. I could not ask for the help of Hanyuu… I don’t hear anyone, and there is no indication that they are nearby. I couldn’t even tell you what sort of terrain we are in right now. I am sorry…”

“Oh… Are you alright? An abyss is a pretty far drop.”

Rika furrowed her brow, brushing some strands of her hair behind her ear. She kept one hand on Kaneki’s arm, just as an assurance that he was there. “I am fine. Are you well?”

“Hm.” Slowly, Kaneki sat up. “I suppose I’m as well as I can be in such an abysmal situation as this.” He chuckled at his joke, just a bit.

Rika blinked in the dark. “I suppose so.” Was it just her, or was this a little off? “Are you… sure that you are alright, Kaneki?”

“Kaneki,” he repeated. “I don’t suppose that’s me, is it?”

Rika didn’t know what to tell him. Please, no, she thought, but could not speak.

“Do you know why we fell into an abyss in the first place? Seems sort of foolish out of context. Must’ve been a trap. We really fell for it, didn’t we?” And he laughed heartily. “Good thing we’re uninjured.”

“But there are six others we were with, and we don’t know where they are, or if they are alright.”

“Oh, that’s not good, is it? Well, they’re probably fine if we are. Hey, what’s your name, anyway?”

“I… I’m Rika…”

“Rika, then. Nice to meet you. Come to think of it, I guess I must have met you already.” As he spoke, some panels on the floor flickered to life, lending them illumination. Rika stared into Kaneki’s face – for it was indeed still Kaneki – and saw an expression that was clouded and vacant. “Ah. That really sheds some light on the situation. Wow, you’re young. I should make sure you stay okay.” He smiled a closed-eye smile. “I’ll protect you, alright?”

She blinked at him, stifling how upset she was at the situation.

“You look upset,” he said, blinking at her before giving her a gentle, if hazy, smile and getting to his feet. He offered his hand to her. “Don’t be. No reason for a kid like you to be thinking of anything besides fairy tales.”

“Fairy tales?” she repeated, accepting his hand nonetheless and allowing herself to be aided to her feet. “There is no use in thinking of things that are not truth. Not right now.”

“What makes them not truth?”

“It is difficult to accept a fairy tale as reality when all you’ve seen is tragedy,” she said lowly.

“You speak darkly for someone so young,” he remarked, yet sounded unconcerned about it. “Tragedies are too dark. Lighten up.”

“The last I’d heard,” she muttered, “your preference was in tragedies.”

“Was it? To find that bitterness desirable – isn’t that tragic?” And he laughed again. “What do you think we should do now, Rika? Don’t you worry, I have your hand.”

Rika sighed. She hoped that he wouldn’t get himself hurt. She wished she had a weapon of her own, but perhaps it was for the better that she hadn’t fallen so far with a knife tucked into her skirt. “Well… our surroundings don’t help us,” she said, looking at the maze-like setup they were in. At the very least, there was one direction they could not go. “We should likely head in the direction opposite of this solid black wall, here.” Kaneki was nodding, though he looked the same sort of agreeable to everything. She figured she could say just about anything and get the same face. “Maybe we should try and reach the ceiling,” she suggested, raising her eyebrows as she looked up at the white-haired half-ghoul.

Kaneki blinked. “Hm… If we have a way to do that, okay,” he said.

Well, he has some semblance of common sense, at least, she thought with a frown. Movement in her peripherals caught her attention, and she turned quickly to see a figure from within one of the mirrors.

She looked up at Kaneki – seemed it had caught his attention, too. They approached a focal point in which a collection of mirrors were all facing, and looked around, Rika with utmost caution and Kaneki with muted curiosity. “Who’s that?” he inquired, and Rika stared into all of the faces, none of which were hers. These mirrors were not working as they should, but Rika found they were even more important.

In one mirror was the apologetic visage of a grey-eyed boy with neatly-brushed black hair. In the next, the same boy with a white medical eyepatch smiled at Rika regrettably, touching his chin. The next, yes, that was the Kaneki she knew, his tired eyes peering at her as he scratched at his cheek and smiled weakly. He gestured to the Kaneki outside the mirror, and then to himself.

“Can I get you out of there?” she inquired of the reflection, stepping forward.

“Oh, that’s me, isn’t it?” asked the vacant Kaneki.

“That is so,” Rika smiled up at him. She felt a little better about this now that she didn’t feel so hopelessly alone in the situation. “Should I break the mirror?” she tried again, looking at the reflection.

“Break it?” said the vacant one. “What if that breaks me?”

Rika pressed her fingers to her mouth, contemplating this. The reflection of the Kaneki she knew shook his head and pointed down the path of the maze. ‘Go,’ he mouthed. ‘Leave.’

“But what of you, Kaneki?”

The vacant one rubbed at his white-haired head.

The reflection shook his head again. He seemed to speak, but Rika heard nothing. She furrowed her brow, regretting the fact that she could not hear his voice. The reflection understood this, and tried again, mouthing, ‘The others.’

“The others…,” Rika repeated, and the reflection nodded.

‘Find them.’

“And you?”

He smiled, touching his chin. ‘Fine,’ he mouthed. ‘It will be fine.’

“We will find a way,” she assured him firmly. The reflection closed its eyes. “I mean it. I will not allow you to be trapped there.” Rika’s hand tightened in Kaneki’s. “Mark my words, I will make sure you are put right again!” she said, and tugged on the vacant one in indication of her urgency. “We’re going into the maze – we’re going now!” And towards the center they began to walk.

Oh, Hanyuu, why did you have to go and disappear? she thought, and pressed on.


Shintaro awoke unpleasantly, driven from unconsciousness by the inability to breathe. His eyes flew open, and he tried to gasp, but couldn’t. His thoughts took to racing a hundred miles a minute, staring into nowhere and seeing nothing. He was lying on his back – he could feel something smooth and solid. There was a pressure on his chest; he could not breathe, obviously he had broken his ribs in the fall and one of his lungs had collapsed, air having leaked into his chest cavity and rendering him breathless without the ability for his diaphragm to contract; this was it—he was dying, he was going to die and this was how it would end this time, with a collapsed lung lying at the bottom of a bottomless pit that was obviously not bottomless if he was lying here and dying with nobody around, he was all alone, and—

And then the pressure on his chest released. Oh. Someone had landed on top of him. That made sense too.

He choked, turning onto his side and gasping at the air available to him now. “Ugh, what the hell…” He wiped at his eyes, which were tearing up against his will. What had happened? The abyss—and Izaya… But if he, Shintaro, was alright, then maybe…? “Who’s there?” Shintaro asked weakly, sitting up. “Seidou?” He paused. Silence answered him. “Er… K-Kaneki? Rika?”

“What’s the point?”

It was Seidou’s voice that answered him, alarmingly dead-sounding. “Uh… what do you mean? We survived, so… that’s a good thing, right?”

“Right. Maybe.”

Shintaro moved to scratch at his head, but grimaced. His entire body hurt; his arms in particular. Probably from all that stretching and trying to hold up Izaya and all. “S-Seidou, that is you, right? Uh… I-is something wrong?”

“With me?”

Shintaro drew his lips into a thin line, not that anyone could see it. He began to feel alone in this darkness, when Seidou was offering only clipped responses. “Er… not necessarily?”

“Why did I make it, Shintaro? I don’t understand.”

He knew that tone. It sounded a bit too much like when Seidou was still out of his mind and lashing out at anyone and everyone. “I mean,” he said tentatively, “I don’t know the answer…” He winced at his own words. “…but I’m glad you did.”

“And why are you so pleased?” Seidou bit out. “It’s not like it’ll matter to you after the end. If we’re getting sent home, we’ll never see each other again—”

“W-well, we don’t know that—”

Please. Spare me the sugarcoating. Why do you care if I make it? You shouldn’t be so glad is all I’m saying. It doesn’t matter, not to me and not to you. At least you have something to go back to.”

Shintaro paused, startled. Something to… He recalled the moment Konoha had almost let slip that Seidou had eaten someone that Shintaro could only presume was ‘mother,’ and thought back even further back to when Seidou was still human, the hologram which was probably Muse giving reports that yes Seidou’s mother and sister were not involved, so no need to worry…

Shintaro still had a mom, even though his father was long dead. He still had his own little sister. Something really bad happened to Seidou’s family that he probably didn’t wanna know, not to mention, like, everything else Seidou had probably gone through in that fast-forward thing. Who knows what sort of things he’d seen, what sort of things he’d done? Shintaro could never fathom something like that, could he? He was nothing but a shut-in who had thrown his life away.

“Uh, well,” Shintaro tried to answer him, “…I guess you might be right… but I mean—it’s not like you have nothing left…”

“That’s exactly where I’m at,” he spat. “I have no future. I have no ideals. I have nothing.”

Wait a second. Hadn’t Seidou just gone over that he had accepted this? Maybe he was still bitter about it after all? “W-whatever happened to ‘just keep going for someone else’s sake’?”

“At this point, there will be nobody left,” he spat.

“Th-that’s not true! There’s always people who…”

“I don’t wanna hear it from you, who went and gave all that up willingly.”

“Look,” he frowned, “I know I’m pathetic, but is now really the time for this?”

“Oh, we have ALL the time in the world…” With these words, the floor lights flickered to life, illuminating Seidou’s ghostly visage as he lunged for Shintaro, grasping at his scarfed throat and slamming him back into the ground as the shut-in scrabbled to get a grip on Seidou’s cold wrist, gasping for air. “It’s hopeless – can’t you tell? This is it for us. There is no ending, there won’t be, because what would be the point? All of this—is nothing—but another—stupid—setup.”

I don’t understand, Shintaro thought dimly. Even if I don’t remember what happened while I was Harrowed, Seidou came around afterwards. He did. What’s this about now? As we climbed the tower, he proved his development—he admitted his wrongness, he acknowledged his lack of hope—and as defeatist as it sounded, he didn’t seem so… so…

“I’m sick of doing everything people want of me. This partnership was nothing but another sick twist of irony, and yet again I’m the fool for not seeing it sooner. You, who epitomize everything I hate… and everything I once idealized, at the same time… You’ve fallen prey to the same damned thing. Don’t you remember the people I’ve killed? Or is Roppi inconsequential now?” His mouth twisted in sardonicism. “I’m the villain, don’t you get it? I’m not a hero; I’m the villain! You saved the villain! Look! Look at that, Shintaro! You, who idolize your fool of a dead hero, have sided with the villain!”

And he teetered over the edge into hysterics, releasing Shintaro and laughing wildly while the shut-in quickly rolled over and clutched at his throat, gasping and choking. “Not—you’re—” he got out before succumbing to a bout of coughing again. “You’re not—villain. Not a villain.”

“Oh yeah?! Prove it! Prove it!

Shintaro tried to sit up for the second time, holding his throat gingerly. “You made it here,” he got out. He felt his words escaping and falling flat. Why was that? What was this turnaround? “You saved people. Saved me.” That was true, wasn’t it? The fact that Seidou had made it to the end at all meant that he must have good intent in him, just A-ya must, and Yukiteru must, and… everyone must. Seidou, the Seidou who led their group once, and the one who had just tried to catch Shintaro and save him before they’d plummeted into their current situation, and the one who fought with Kaneki to protect the rest from Yato…

Ah. Shintaro felt so tired. Could it really have all been for nothing? Slowly, he lowered his pale hand from his bruised neck, chest sinking in defeat. “Do I really need to prove it?” he asked quietly. Where were the others? Kaneki, Rika? Izaya? Their isolation only became more potent in the silence of Seidou’s rising acidity, his teeth bared. Shintaro could only look at him, incapable of anger for this break, incapable of empathy or of sorrow. “We did so much already. We made it this far… You were… I dunno, you were Seidou again.” It was truly the first route Seidou had come back again after being as far gone as he had been. Even if he had been fast-forwarded and come around in any other route, always, he would have sacrificed himself before long. The alternative was he never came around at all, and never stopped his bitter rampaging. Shintaro had thought that maybe they had gotten Seidou back, that if he had survived to the end, he wouldn’t be lost again. But maybe this was just the inevitable result of hoping to keep Seidou Takizawa at his side. “If you’re gonna rebound now, after all that… then go on and kill me already. Maybe it’s hopeless after all.”

“Why, you—!” Predictably, Seidou lunged for him, but was stopped with the sound of gunshots and the piercing of the side of his neck with what looked to be crystal shards. Shintaro was roused from his depressive slump, staring in horror as the half-ghoul’s growl became a choke, his red sputtering from his blackened lips. Quickly, the shut-in sat up.

But, where did that…? Shintaro turned to the source of the shot, and his eyes widened further as he looked into the earnest fact of Seidou Takizawa, breathing hard, hands trembling as he gripped at his crossbow quinque. Even more out of place than the weapon or the fire in his eyes, however, was the mere fact that he was human, his locks brown and the color back in his visage.

This Seidou looked at Shintaro, and his expression softened into a firm look of concern rather than a determination fueled by fear. “Hey…”

Shintaro’s lips parted, but no words came out. His chest ached to see Seidou as he used to be, and yet, did his eyes deceive him? And if they weren’t—what the hell was going on?

This Seidou approached, and Shintaro watched as his vision unraveled and peeled apart like a frame-by-frame take of old-fashioned, hand-drawn animation, time slowing as the human Seidou went to Shintaro, his visage changing from moment to moment as if they were living in every route at the same time, each new layer of the picture a step closer to the true scene at hand. Before the shut-in, the human Seidou metamorphosed into the half-ghoul, bearing not a quinque but his kagune, then not bearing anything at all but stubbornly crossed arms as a dozen different versions of the same voice asked, “Shintaro, are you alright?”

Shintaro stared blankly. What just happened? He looked to where Seidou had been when he was shot by—himself—but found not even a single drop of blood to prove his existence. “Wha…?”

“Oi,” said Seidou, his voice normal and singular again as he leaned down and peered at the NEET with his single eye, just as pale and ghoulish as he had been when they fell into the abyss that had left them in this position. “What’s the matter with you? Did ya land on your head or somethin’?”

“Maybe,” he said faintly. “Did you just freak out again?”

Seidou squinted at him. “Why? Because you just had to grab onto that Izaya bastard and get us dragged in here?” He scoffed.

“Uh…”

“I literally just found you, Shintaro,” said Seidou, once he realized that Shintaro was actually serious and very much confused. “I was alone when I first woke up, figuring I was either at the bottom of that pit or dead. When the lights turned on, I figured it was my cue to find you before you panicked. I guess I was too late, huh?”

“Maybe I am going nuts,” breathed the red-scarfed one.

“Congrats,” said Seidou drily. “Welcome to wonderland. The food’s fantastic.”

“Oh, please no…”

Seidou snickered.

But now, hearing footsteps behind him, Shintaro stiffened, whirling as Yukine, Yukiteru, and A-ya emerged from the mirror maze that Shintaro now noticed was all around them. The hikkiNEET immediately got to his feet and almost fell back over only for Seidou to grab him by the back of his shirt and steady him without expression.

“What’s up with you three?” asked the half-ghoul flatly.

The three fourteen-year-olds all looked at one another, then stopped holding hands. Shintaro squinted at them. “We’re sort of lost,” said Yukine, shoving his hands in his pockets and averting his amber eyes.

Seidou scoffed, putting one hand on his hip. “Really. At least ya found us.”

“I’m lost too,” said Shintaro quietly.

“You haven’t even gone anywhere,” said Seidou.

“Except maybe off the deep-end,” remarked A-ya.

Seidou rolled his single eye while the two Yuki’s sighed in sync. “Are you two alright?” asked the Shinki.

“Debatable,” said Seidou, “but I mean, for falling however many stories, I’d say we’re doing pretty good.”

“Something’s not right, though,” said Shintaro.

“I agree,” said Yukine. “There’s every possibility there are fakes down here…”

“There was a fake me,” added A-ya, “so we should be wary of everyone.” He paused. “Even each other.”

“A-ya,” said Yukiteru, “please don’t make this situation even more tense.”

“My bad.”

Seidou scoffed. “That sounds ridiculous.”

Shintaro glanced at him. “I saw multiple Seidous,” he admitted, rubbing at the back of his head. “If you saw an extra A-ya… then maybe I’m not entirely crazy yet.”

“Wait, seriously?” said Seidou, stiffening. Apparently something wasn’t so ridiculous if Shintaro vouched for its credibility. “What the fuck’s up with that?”

“I don’t know, but we should take it seriously,” said A-ya, putting his single hand in his pants pocket.

“It might be a mechanism of the mirrors,” said Yukine.

“Then we should break ‘em,” said Seidou matter-of-factly.

All of them?” asked Yukiteru, eyes wide.

“L-let’s wait on that,” said Shintaro quickly, before Seidou could decide to just go for it. He did not want the sound of thousands of shattering mirrors echoing forever in this expanse.

“Well if we break ‘em all,” said Seidou logically, “then we’ll probably find the others, right?”

“Well,” said Yukiteru hesitantly, “I guess you’re right, but I don’t think…”

It was now that Kaneki and Rika emerged from the opposite direction of A-ya and the Yuki’s. Everyone turned to look at them; Rika looked overcome with relief. “Oh, thank goodness I found all of you. Is it that all of you are okay?”

“Shintaro, you don’t look well,” said Kaneki, and Rika looked up at him incredulously.

“You remember?”

“What?” Kaneki touched his chin, smiling confusedly. “I… yes? What is it I’d be forgetting?”

She just looked at him for a bit.

“Did you guys have problems too?” guessed Yukiteru, rubbing at the back of his head.

“Kaneki had amnesia,” said Rika, shaking her head.

“Did I?” Kaneki looked quite concerned that he had amnesia for the event of having amnesia. “I am… sorry about that.”

“Doppelgangers… and amnesia?” said Yukiteru blankly.

“Doppelgangers?” repeated Rika.

“There’s been some fakes around,” explained Yukine tiredly, as if it weren’t that big a deal anymore, just a nuisance.

“That Kaneki may be a fake, if he had amnesia,” said A-ya darkly.

“Oh,” said Kaneki mildly.

“We found a few of him in mirrors,” offered Rika. “But I don’t want to think that this is…” She trailed off, not wanting to have to presume this Kaneki a fake.

“It was the mirrors,” said Yukine, sounding satisfied.

“That’s not very reassuring,” said Yukki.

“I mean, when I saw more than one Seidou,” Shintaro came in, “it wasn’t really like a doppelganger thing. There was this real weird thing where it looked like reality was unraveling itself, like… like all these different timelines and scenarios were being sifted until it came to a final conclusion of some true reality…”

Everyone looked at him in silence.

“Maybe I am going crazy,” he sighed. “Never mind.”

“Different routes, converging?” suggested Rika. “But we’ve never before reached the tower, so how…?”

“It was more like the different Seidou’s from other routes were all placed in this situation for that moment, whether they belonged here or not,” said Shintaro, relieved someone had responded.

“I don’t like this talk,” said Seidou, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, when we saw a fake A-ya,” said Yukiteru, “it really seemed like he believed to be A-ya, an A-ya that… um.” He paused. “Well…”

“I died in-game already,” said A-ya, helping him out. “His explanation was that when I died… or, when he died…” He frowned. “When that happened, anyway, he showed up here, and was replaced by a fake: me. It was plausible, but untrue. Besides, his personal timeline was scrambled.”

“That was how we made him out to be the fake,” said Yukine. “His timing thing, that is.”

“Versions of us from different routes?” suggested Rika quietly.

“Something was definitely wrong with the first Seidou I saw,” added Shintaro. “It was like everything that transpired… everything we’d accomplished was gone. Like just—no character development whatsoever. It didn’t feel right.”

Kaneki’s eyes widened.

“It was rather strange for Kaneki to lose his memories as he did,” said Rika slowly. “There was no explanation for it, although there was the collection of his reflections we found… But, was it that his memories were trapped in the mirror? Or…”

“The plot didn’t make sense,” said Kaneki quietly. “It was scrapped, because it wasn’t explained.”

Yukiteru gasped, getting where he was coming from. “No plot, and—and no depth, and no sense of time.”

“Those are all jurisdictions of the game masters…,” said A-ya softly.

“But what does that mean for us?” asked Seidou bitterly. “That they don’t have power here—great. But who does? Is it Rainbow and Greyson, or is it Muse?”

“Or, the traitor?” suggested Yukine, scratching at the back of his blond head.

“Not in the tower,” said Kaneki. “I don’t think this is the work of the traitor. All of these events we’ve experienced sound a bit like ideas shuffled through, sifted, and scrapped, as if an author were trying to follow interesting threads of storyline only to find them to be dead ends. A story isn’t always completely planned from beginning to end.”

“So then…,” said Shintaro.

“…Muse,” said Rika.

“So does that mean we made it to the top of the tower, or not?” said Seidou.

“We either made it to the final obstacle,” said Kaneki, hand to his chin in thought, “or we just fell into their trap.”

“What the fuck sort of trap is this, then?” spat Seidou. “What are we, lost toys?”

“An endless maze where they can test out endless ideas,” said Rika, sounding defeated.

“Or this is exactly what they wanted of us in the first place,” said Yukiteru firmly.

“Yeah, exactly,” said Seidou bitterly.

“Not what I mean. A-ya said it, up above. Something needed to happen in the room with the pit. Maybe we needed to all go in together. And what’s more, Akise… pushed us in.”

“It’s true that even after Izaya fell, we kept being pulled in anyway,” said Shintaro dully.

Yukine went rigid. “Wait. Where is Izaya? We have… have…” His eyes scanned them all, wide and worried. “We have all but him, excluding Akise.”

“Maybe we were supposed to lose somebody,” suggested A-ya, but he shuffled from foot to foot and averted his eyes, looking rather guilty about the matter.

“Or maybe not,” frowned Yukiteru.

“Oh, god…,” moaned Shintaro.

“We need to find him,” said Kaneki.

“That is so,” agreed Rika.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” cried Seidou.

“You have any better ideas?” asked Kaneki, eyebrows raised.

He scoffed. “Kill Muse.”

“That won’t work, Seidou,” sighed Shintaro.

“Yeah, I know. I’m just pissed at the situation. Let me act pissed.”

“You always act pissed,” said Yukine. He looked to Kaneki. “We…we need to find him.”

“And I’ll bet,” said Yukiteru soberly, “that if we find him, we find Muse.”

There was an unease that settled over their atmosphere at that.

With a nod, Kaneki answered, “We will stick together. Splitting up is too uncertain, especially under the current circumstances, and with the unpredictability of our situation… I think this to be the best option. Are we all in agreement?” And so, the seven players prepared to mobilize in their search for Izaya.

 

Chapter 115: Muse

Chapter Text

 

He came to in a haze, his consciousness uncertain. Izaya felt himself surfacing from a dark, dreamless sleep, and had not yet even the capacity to question himself and his surroundings when he was roused by a voice:

“Izaya Orihara.”

That voice was familiar. Why? Slowly, his awareness pooled in his body, and he recognized he was lying on his back. He could not open his eyes, not yet.

“That was a rather bold move, wasn’t it? ‘Let me go,’ you said. And you meant it. How charming.”

The pain of his injuries, especially of his leg and chest, began to register again, at first dull and then growing with his awareness. Ah, that was right, he’d fallen from Shintaro’s grasp, A-ya had stabbed him, and… Was he at the bottom of the pit? Alive? A subdued sense of relief flickered, but that was all he could manage. Still… knowing he could see the future… But what did that look like? His relief grew heavy and unpleasant. Not relief anymore.

“But don’t you worry, I-za-ya, you were going to fall down here one way or another.”

This was closer to dread.

“Yes, that means you didn’t have control in this situation, either… or maybe you did, in some strange, roundabout way. I know you like having your way with things.”

Who was talking to him now? It could only be…

“But to tell you the truth, something like your—charming—show of heroism up there will always mean nothing. You were predestined to plummet to this ending, and you and I both know that you won’t ever change from that monster you’ve been from the beginning.”

Annoyance prickled in him. This person, certainly was—tedious. Did they think he was sleeping, or did they intend for him to hear every word? Could he catch them off-guard? Could he take advantage of this? Izaya was beginning to sense the urgency of his paralyzed situation.

“But isn’t it absolutely fantastic? You’ve made it! You’ve made it to the end! Isn’t that exactly what you wanted, once upon a time?”

The end, huh? Could he force his own ending? Could he make what he wanted to see?

“Ah… I should probably introduce myself.”

He heard his heart beating in his ears. This was it – it had to be…

“It’s just as you suspect, of course.” Ah, but the smile in their voice. “The others, they call me Muse.”

And just like that, Izaya opened his eyes and pushed himself suddenly into a sitting position, eyes flashing and dying out just as quickly as he saw the visage of the mastermind, the puppeteer, the…

They smiled thinly. “I’m you,” they said. Izaya stared into his own face, his shoulders sinking as, delayed, he could feel the stab of his ribs and the strain of his broken leg. Izaya tried to speak, but could think of nothing to say. “Really, though,” said Muse, the very picture of Izaya down to every last detail of his beige-trimmed jacket and his red-brown eyes glinting with cruel mischief, “it was thrilling to watch you finally break. When that scream ripped from your throat, I could swear that I could almost, almost feel it, too.” They smiled that cruel smile that Izaya recognized must have been his own.

What sort of terrible irony was this? He could only think to himself how absolutely ridiculous this was. For all his striving to regain control, and for all his contempt at being placed here, his chagrin for all his failures and how he knew the game masters would be laughing at him… It was Izaya himself that was the mastermind? Could that really be? It was too cruel to be true—wasn’t it? This had to be some strange and unusual punishment, a horrible joke meant to make him fracture again. But he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t, so—

“My, my, I can feel it now,” said Muse – Izaya? – mockingly. “I was my own mastermind? How can it be? That’s just too cruel to be true. Isn’t it? Cruel and unusual punishment, a horrible joke—am I hitting the nail on the head, here, Izaya?” Muse grinned, and Izaya’s brow clinched, expression hard. In answer, Muse knelt down before their copy, cold hands rising to touch Izaya’s pale cheeks. “But, even more curious… I do wonder… knowing that it was me, that it was you who did all of this, how do you feel? Are you relieved? Do you feel accomplished? Maybe even guilty?”

“None of the above,” Izaya answered coolly, his steady tone denying the fear pressing on him from all sides, his questioning of his entire sense of reality. “I’m not guilty of anything you did. I can deal with my own deeds, thank you.”

Muse’s mouth twisted into a cruel smirk, and Izaya’s lips thinned to nothing as they said, “Interesting.”

“How do you feel, then?” asked Izaya drily. “It must be odd, mocking and laughing at yourself.”

They chuckled, eyes glimmering with a secret Izaya must not know, else he’d understand why the hell they were laughing. “It’s just part of the game. Now, then…” They paused, and their smile faded, replaced with an annoyed frown, cold eyes narrowing.

So caught up in his deep self-questioning, Izaya didn’t know what it was that so miffed Muse until he looked in the direction of their gaze. All he could do was stare as the other seven approached with urgency. He understood, now, why Muse seemed annoyed: they were interrupted in the middle of something fun. But he still didn’t understand where the seven were coming from, and what the current situation even was.

The others were at similar levels of bafflement. Upon reaching this area clear of walls or mirrors or anything else, they had come to a halt, all of them taking in the scene. Shintaro had almost run into Kaneki with how abruptly the half-ghoul had stopped, and had been the one to vocally react first with a relieved, “Izaya!” but it only took that moment of speaking to realize that it was not Izaya singular, but Izayas, plural.

“It’s—Muse?” guessed Yukiteru.

“Or just another fake,” said A-ya.

“Muse is Izaya?” said Seidou. “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.”

Izaya’s cold mirth rang around them as the one standing laughed at them. Seeing that that Izaya was one without injuries, they could all come to the presumption that the Izaya that had fallen with them was the one who looked comically surprised and brutally injured on the ground. Yukine came to this conclusion, and made the decision to run for them, saying, “Izaya, are you alright?” while Kaneki called out to stop him.

The one sitting on the ground blinked twice. “Ah—?” Yukine gripped his shoulders and looked him in the face. Poor Izaya looked even more flabbergasted. “Oh.” Izaya managed a thin, humorless half-smile. “Well, I’m as good I can be, I guess.” The moment was dampened only by the one called ‘Muse,’ unable to contain their mirth, their hands to their face as they continued to snicker.

“Fitting,” said Seidou drily, and Shintaro frowned at him meaningfully. Seidou shrugged.

“Either you’re a fake,” said Kaneki coolly to the Izaya look-alike, “or you’re a game master. I’d rather you’d clarify instead of laughing at us.”

“Indeed,” frowned Rika. “Please specify.”

They stopped laughing, hands still to their face. There was a pause. Yukine and Izaya, too, looked up at them. The informant made a move to get up, and grimaced. “Here,” uttered Yukine, helping him to his feet and backing up a bit with him in tow, making space between them and this person.

“Aa, could it really be?” they said slowly, their tone shifting. “Is it…” Yukine’s eyes remained wide as brow furrowed in perturbation. The eight watched in varying states of alarm – was their face… melting? That wasn’t pretty. “…Is it that I’m the demon after all?” When they raised their face to their audience, they had A-ya’s face. Then they laughed at their reactions. “Fine, fine.” They wiped at their face, smearing their—skin?—before smiling lopsidedly at them. The entirety of their presentation appeared to melt away, dark and thick like ink. As they ran a hand through their hair, it became a simple, short cut of brown locks, and their eyes – of course, their eyes – became purple, luminescent in the dim lighting. They shook the residue of their inky mask off of their hand absently. “I’m Muse.”

They were met with silence, and the master grinned joyously, coldly at all of them, clapping their hands twice. “Nice to meet all of you, too!”

You’re the one… who—” began Seidou, but the ground began to shake, then. Shaking, and… rising?

The eight, plus Muse, ascended what seemed only a story or two and settled as the floor locked into place at the level of what must have been the top of the tower. All around them were windows looking out over the game field, and all around them, too, were screens, lots of screens… and… a control panel. Everyone looked around in degrees of awe, and Muse’s grin settled into a satisfied little smirk.

“Beautiful, isn’t it? Look, there’s the factory where Group 5 started.” The master turned and casually walked over to a shelf to the left of the control panel. “Anybody want refreshments? Water? Soda? Tea? Coffee?”

“No thank you,” said Kaneki mildly.

“How did we—how?” said Shintaro.

Seidou looked at him skeptically, but Muse seemed to understand what he was getting at.

“You guys didn’t actually fall that far,” they said, turning to them. The master straightened their button-up, which was white and sleeveless. They wore plain black dress pants, black dress shoes. They kept that subtle smile, rather polite, but their eyes remained of unyielding coldness. “Rodd slowed the sense of time so it felt like you were falling longer, and then you were knocked out accordingly in order to complete the illusion.”

“You…” Seidou ground his teeth together. This asshole was making fools of all of them.

“No need to be angry,” they said simply. “You all made it, didn’t you?” Thoughtfully, they leaned over and pressed a button, and the players stiffened only to be met with the sound of joyous kazoos and a message of congratulations that scrolled across the windows. “You won the game,” they smiled wide, spreading their arms. “Now you’ve been received properly. Welcome to the top of the tower—the Control Center!”

“This is ridiculous,” said Seidou.

“Um. Please tell me that’s not the prize…,” said Yukiteru timidly.

“Just kazoos at the end would admittedly be a downer,” said Shintaro, slumping.

Yukine looked to Izaya, who had his arm draped over the Shinki’s shoulders, but he didn’t look back, only stared at Muse with a hard expression.

“Then…” said the informant, “…am I right to presume that you taking my form was just a part of a show? Just for fun?”

“I guess so,” said Muse thoughtfully.

“So you’re not Izaya,” said Seidou, squinting with his single eye.

“Is that your ability?” asked A-ya. “Taking the forms of others?”

“More importantly,” said Yukiteru, “is this actually the part where we can ask questions?”

Muse laughed, humored but hollow. “No, sort of, and yes,” they answered, eyes glittering with icy mirth. “You can ask as many questions as you like. We can get onto the rewards whenever you like, but you may want to ask all your questions before that.” They moved to lean their back against the wall, crossing their arms over their chest. “…As a suggestion.”

The eight shifted, all of them exchanging glances. There was a rather uncomfortable silence. A-ya broke it. “Well, at the end of this, can I get my arm back?”

Seidou scoffed. “Right, because that’s important. Can I have my eye fixed, too?”

“I’m more concerned with the people that we lost in-game,” said Yukine simply, firmly.

Kaneki’s eyes glazed over. “I… yes. I agree with Yukine.”

“Indeed,” said Rika. “I’d like to know whether there is life for them on the other side of this terrible game.”

“Or, like, can we bring them back somehow?” added Yukiteru.

“Without resetting,” mumbled A-ya, averting his eyes.

“And without them being possessed, or anything else you can come up with that isn’t ideal for us,” Shintaro contributed quickly.

“That’s something you’ll find out,” Muse smiled thinly. “Do you want me to go over the rewards now?”

Kaneki’s jaw tightened. Izaya said, “No. Not yet.” There was a cool determination to his tone.

“Alright.” The master smiled. “Go on, then.”

“Who is the traitor?” asked Izaya. “You know who I mean.”

Their eyes narrowed, smile remaining. “Which one? I could tell you all the happenings behind the scenes, the ones I didn’t govern, if you like. There is Aureus, the one closest to being ‘traitor.’”

“What did he do to become traitor?” asked A-ya. “Why is he trapped underground?”

“According to the plot,” said Muse, “he expressed his distaste for this game and he was banished from here. In truth, it’s only a symbolic placement. He never walked this tower.” They paused. “Sorry, how honest should I be?”

Izaya’s lips were thinned. He hadn’t meant Aureus.

“As honest as you can manage,” said Kaneki coolly.

“Well then, there’s your answer.”

“What do you mean, a symbolic placement?” frowned Seidou.

“Symbolism always underlies a story,” said Muse. “It shouldn’t be obvious. He’s symbolism, so he’s stuck underground. A symbol is nothing but a thing that means more than itself. It doesn’t represent its own existence. And so, Aureus couldn’t be anything but a representation of a game master, kept apart from the tower. The fact he cannot leave is symbolic of his lack of will. Since all of you have already figured out the purple-eyed correlation, I can share this fun tidbit: one of Aureus’s powers is one of illusion. In fact, he can’t show his true face anymore, only a representation of it. His image is merely a projection, and has been for each of you that has managed to find him. What I’m saying is, yes, even now, his eyes are not gold. They are still purple.” They flashed a smile. “Just like Seraph’s are.”

There was unrest beginning to crackle in the silence of the eight. Even Aureus, even Seraph were under Muse’s control? Is that what this meant? Was Kaneki right, then, about all of this being exactly a part of the construct that Muse had fabricated? As much as they had considered it, they hadn’t wanted it to be true.

“To clarify,” said Muse, “Seraph did make a move to betray me, but that was all also a part of the plan, in its own roundabout way. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have known about it.”

“You mean to say,” said Rika slowly, “that every one of the game masters we’ve met are under your jurisdiction? That part of your role… is to decide what everyone else does?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Is it true that each one of us represents a game master?” Rika pressed.

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Then why are there eight of us?”

Muse faltered, blinking. They thought about this, as if even they didn’t know the answer off the top of their head. “I erased one,” they said. “They don’t exist anymore. It’s an homage.”

“An homage to one you erased yourself?” said Izaya. “How kind of you.”

“Akise is their stand-in,” they said, tone measured.

“Akise,” A-ya repeated, unable to stave off the darkness in his eyes.

“Is that why he pushed us into the pit?” asked Yukiteru, tone hollow.

Muse’s response wasn’t one he expected, however. “What? He did what?”

The eight exchanged looks. Yukine said, “You didn’t know that happened? Does that mean it was outside of your jurisdiction?”

The master paused, eyes narrowing. Shintaro refrained from backing up despite the uncomfortable aura now exuding the master. Everyone else seemed to be standing firm just fine – that included Rika, who was like, ten. Shintaro wasn’t wimpier than a ten-year-old. Was he? Then Muse rolled their shoulders in a shrug, and they were back to cool politeness. “Well, it doesn’t matter. He led you to the end, and none of it makes a difference anymore now that you’ve all made it.”

Yukiteru was hopeful. “So he was helping us?”

“It is true that you needed to all drop into the pit to reach me,” conceded Muse, uncrossing their arms and clasping their hands behind their back instead, straightening.

“That’s stupid,” grunted Seidou.

“I-I also have a question,” said Shintaro. Muse looked at him, and he shifted uncomfortably. “Wh…what happened to… Light Yagami?”

Kaneki glanced to the red-scarfed one. He was the only other one who knew the oddity of that situation.

Muse stared at Shintaro, level. Their smile faded.

Shintaro swallowed.

“Nothing happened to Light,” they said.

“Then—where did he go?”

“He didn’t go anywhere.”

“He had to have gone to some place.”

“Then he went nowhere,” Muse corrected, cold.

A-ya came in, “Do you say that because you don’t know what happened, or because you don’t want us to know?”

“This is a dangerous topic for neither of those reasons,” the master said simply.

A-ya furrowed his brow. What could that mean?

“Muse,” said Kaneki, “what is it that you represent, then? What is your part to play? Are you…?” He refrained from saying it: ‘author.’ Just in case Muse was not, and there was some kind of penalty for breaking the fourth wall. With how ludicrous this game had been, one couldn’t be too careful.

Hah… how cute. Don’t worry, Kaneki.

Muse’s smile returned, their purple eyes glimmering in enjoyment. Apparently that was a question they were waiting for. “I suppose that would help enlighten you, wouldn’t it? What am I, then? What are you up against? What is it that has put this game into motion? Well…”

They folded their fingers together in front of them, pausing as if to let anyone chime in. Of course, no one did, and Muse knew they wouldn’t. “Let’s see…” They closed their eyes. “I am… the muse that speaks in a writer’s head. I am the desire—the need—to write. I am the ideas.” Their eyes opened. “I am the reason for the pleasure found in every cruel plot twist, the reason for every hardship, betrayal, and surprise. I am the creator: the maker of plot, the director of development, the intention of symbolism, the orchestrator and severer of bonds, the pacer of timelines, the architect of every character… That’s right. I am your creator, I am your maker – the reason you’re real… I am your god.” They grinned, their eyes icy and alight. “That means, yes, Kaneki, I am the author for all intents and purposes, and I determine the ending. Any questions? Of course, I myself am the one to prompt every one of your inquiries, because all of you, too, are under my jurisdiction.” Their smile thinned, sweet, as they tilted their head. “Understand?”

“I don’t like this,” said Seidou plainly.

“What if Muse just doesn’t want you to like it?” said A-ya.

“I don’t like you.”

A-ya shrugged. Despite their casual exchange, their tension was evident. No one looked pleased, and it seemed as though the color was draining from all of their faces.

“No free will… at all?” asked Yukine.

“I refuse,” said Yukiteru.

“That cannot be so,” said Rika. “This is beyond fate.”

“That’s right,” said Muse. “Because fate can be broken.”

“Can I break you?” asked Seidou.

“Please don’t attempt to,” said Kaneki softly, his hand to his mouth. His grey eyes were far-off.

“You’re no god,” Izaya said stubbornly.

“And why’s that?” asked Muse simply.

“Because someone’s god is something that controls them invariably. You can’t be our god – we’ve gone against your will before. Or were all your slipups intentional?”

“It is true,” said Kaneki slowly, “that oftentimes… when an author writes, their characters develop beyond them and ‘act of their own accord’… There comes a point where the characters themselves begin to make choices that surprise even the author, despite their status as creator. This is something that happens to any character-driven, commendable author. Do you deny the truth of those statements?”

“Hmm…” Muse touched their chin. “I do not deny that.”

“I have a question,” said Shintaro, holding up a hand as if shyly raising it for class. “What are… um…” He swallowed. “What are… our origins? Do we exist?”

The other seven looked at him, some shifting in vague discomfort.

“Er, what I mean… is… um, I…” He tugged at his scarf, licking his lips nervously. “W-we’re not actually anime characters… are we?”

What?” said Seidou, flummoxed and annoyed.

“What gave you that thought?” asked Rika blankly.

“Um…” Shintaro fidgeted. He really didn’t want to be exposed as a simple otaku – he was already known to be a shut-in, he didn’t want to make it worse – but what else was he to do? He thought of the fact that he recognized Shirou and Rin from a show he’d seen, and about how Saiko had known Yato from an anime series – though she’d never had the opportunity to say which one. He didn’t much want to admit little reasons like those, so of course he chose to give the obviously more logical premise for his conclusion: “Er, Emina… is anime backwards.”

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” said Seidou.

Kaneki touched his chin. “I… suppose you’re right, Shintaro. Huh.” Here, he’d been racking his brain for resemblances to Latin or Greek or something…

“You think we’re anime characters?” snipped Yukine, his eyes wide with a flicker of exasperated fear. “Just because of that?

“It is a cool coincidence,” commented Yukiteru.

A-ya blinked, trying to imagine the thought. “Hm.”

“I suppose under the current circumstances,” said Rika carefully, “that wouldn’t be too extraordinary.”

“I refuse it,” said Izaya simply. “And then – what? – Muse here is from the realm where all of us are nothing but animated figures from otaku culture? And we’re all stuck in a ridiculous battle royal as a result of some kid writing an overextended fanfiction?”

Harsh.

“I mean, maybe,” said Shintaro, who had been shrinking and shriveling with each remark.

Muse had gone over to the control and begun futzing around with some of the buttons and knobs. One by one, eight different screens were projected onto the windows, blacking out that half of the wall with the dark of them. “Well,” said Muse, “look here. Some of you will recognize these scenes. Others won’t – but you should be able to recognize yourselves.”

They glanced at one another. There was a sense of alarmed silence.

With a final, ominous clack, Muse activated all eight of the screens and watched their reactions.

Kaneki looked into a screen of what must have been himself, dejectedly clinging to the body of—Hide—walking slowly amongst the snowflakes down a war-stained road and towards… The screen glitched and changed to a still field of flowers: lilies, with a reaper standing amid the flora. Bespectacled eyes solemn, he raised his quinque—a skip, and Kaneki watched himself get speared through the skull. He stared, eyes blank as he tried to comprehend the implications of seeing his eye-gouged, bleeding self, lying amongst the blood and carnage of the others slaughtered.

Seidou’s lips thinned at the video of himself getting grabbed by the white-robed man who had taken him as a prisoner of war – or something of that kind. His human form, screaming defiantly back at his captor. The lonely image of his broken and bloodied crossbow quinque, left discarded. Akira, finding this remnant with regret on her face. Rows and rows and rows of graves – and her, mourning losses. Flinching, Seidou looked away.

Izaya looked on with hard expression into the image of himself beaten and bloody, his arms twisted and broken at either side of him. Blood running down his chin, he lifted his head to the screen, a hollow smile curving his mouth. Though there was no sound, Izaya could read his own lips: ‘Do it, Monster.’ A skip, and he watched as Shizuo walked away with unconcerned expression. Expression betraying some bitter feeling, Izaya closed his eyes against the screen.

Yukine watched Yato face off with the goddess Bishamon, wondering why it was that she looked so blighted. The Shinki’s eyes widened, disbelief and horror striking him as he watched himself jump in front of Yato, arms outspread—the blade of Yukine getting sliced in half, and the image of his body severed in two—Yato, screaming… Shaking his head, Yukine took a step back.

Yukiteru opened his mouth and closed it, staring into an empty pill bottle. His own body, lifeless and lying on his bloodless resting place. Desperately that ever-influential Yuno was trying to shake him awake, her eyes wide and despairing. Yukki was breathless. Is that, really how I…?

A-ya watched darkly the image of his own horrified face, stuffed rabbit cast to the side. He watched his terrified self stagger and fall backwards, shielding himself with one arm. A-ya spotted his red scissors at his side. And—C-ta, holding his box cutter and smiling with tears streaming down his face. The blood, then. The blood. A-ya didn’t kill C-ta that time, but A-ya still died. The player lowered his gaze to the floor.

Rika was dead-eyed, none too surprised to see her bloodied, naked body being picked apart by the crows. Nor was she surprised to see her suicide as the scene changed, nor any other death skimmed over on her personal screen.

And Shintaro, equally unsurprised, watched as the Shintaro on-screen slit his throat with scissors, or got shot in the head by Kuroha, or so on and so forth. He looked to Muse. “So—is that a yes?”

“Sort of.” Muse clasped their hands behind their back after deactivating the screens again. “A-ya isn’t from anime. He’s from a song series. Technically you are too, but let’s not be too picky.”

“I mean,” said A-ya dully, “it’s better than just being made up for this game alone. If we were only created to serve a purpose in this game, that would mean that all our memories of a life beforehand would be a lie.”

“That’s a horrible thought,” said Yukine faintly.

“Are our fates really predetermined, then?” asked Rika.

“We can break fate,” said Yukiteru, but he sounded doubtful.

“Why the fuck did you pick, like, the worst possible scenes you could think of?” asked Seidou. “This makes it look like we’re freakin’ dead. Are we dead? Is that what you’re trying to tell us? ‘Cause my body lived past the scene you showed me, for the record.”

“And if I died as myself,” said Kaneki thoughtfully, “then why did Shirazu know me as Haise?”

“And—that happened to me here, too,” said Yukine, pointing to the spot where his screen had been projected. “And I became a Blessed something-or-other. So couldn’t that happen there?”

“Just as Shintaro and I are from multiple worlds of the same realm, each a loop of its predecessor,” said Rika, while Shintaro nodded.

“Me too,” added A-ya. “Apparently. That’s an alleged claim.”

“How come I got offered god powers if I don’t become god at home?” demanded Yukiteru. “That’s totally misleading.”

There was a pause. Izaya was the only who hadn’t made an argument, and Muse looked at him, apparently waiting for something. The informant shrugged. “That seemed pretty realistic, honestly,” he admitted. “I mean, I looked in pretty bad shape, but—I am now, too.” He gestured to himself to make his point. “And even if I did die there, well, I s’pose that’d be a fitting end.”

Seidou pursed his lips, grudgingly conceding his point.

Muse raised their eyebrows.

“What?” Izaya quirked an eyebrow of his own. “I don’t have much left to lose, here.”

“Except your existence,” Muse pointed out, and Izaya frowned.

“Well, I dunno, I feel tangible,” said Shintaro.

“‘I think, therefore I am’?” suggested Kaneki.

“What if those thoughts are just inputted by the creator?” asked A-ya.

“I… well…”

“Fine,” said Izaya, crossing his arms over his chest. “Is our prize existence, then?”

“Do you want me to go over your rewards, then?” asked Muse.

“No, wait,” said Seidou. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“Me? I’m Muse.”

“Rather,” said Rika, “where is it that you originate? Why are you doing this? Is it truly for your entertainment, or is it something more? Where did Muse begin? I believe that… perhaps if I am to understand why you are acting, I can better see a purpose, that is so.”

“Is that what you meant, Seidou?” asked Shintaro blankly.

“Yeah,” said Seidou. “But more pissed-off-like. If I gotta deal with this bullshit, I’d like to at least know why.

“What is Muse’s ‘truth’?” said Izaya, eyebrows arching.

“If you intended for Seraph to rebel and for Aureus to be exiled,” said Kaneki, “then I’d like to know… What is your motive? You’ve done all of this, but why?”

“The game masters are people too,” said Yukine. “That’s what Durden said.”

“Your brother, right?” added Yukiteru, eyes sharp and making an attempt at boring into the ultimate master before them.

“If we’re characters someone else imagined, then who are the other masters?” asked A-ya, tilting his head with a slightly cruel smile. “These characters that you’re using for your little game, where did they come from?”

“Where did you come from?” added Shintaro. “What is this game? What is ‘Muse’?”

Muse was still smiling at the eight of them, but it was a plaintive smile, accented with the distance in their luminescent violet eyes. “It would do some good for me to explain myself, wouldn’t it? Maybe then you could understand it.”

“And isn’t this what you wanted all along?” said Izaya.

Their eyes flickered. “Otherwise,” said the master, “who would hear my story?”

Seidou opened his mouth to reject, perhaps pointing out that he wasn’t all too keen on actually listening, but Shintaro shot him a look and Kaneki brought a hand to his arm.

“If you’re our god,” said Yukiteru with a determined smirk on his face, “then I’d like to know you before we take your place.”

Muse laughed a bit, then quieted, folding their hands together in front of them and leaning on the wall. “I think, perhaps, I’ll start with Seraph.”

 

Chapter 116: Their Story

Chapter Text

 

 

 

I think, perhaps, I’ll start with Seraph. In order for you to come to know ‘Muse,’ then you must understand the others, and where I came from. This game isn’t the only life I’ve lived.

Once upon a time, Seraph was… she was my niece, but she was more than that. She was my child, my sibling, my best friend… and she was so damaged. Her unforgiving upbringing before being taken in my brother, her father—it wasn’t her own fault, but it did haunt her so. She knew the ugliest parts of the world, and showed them to me in her despair. Something so horrible as she had lived… something like ‘reality’ it was something she despised. And so, she averted her eyes.

I could offer her nothing. My words were empty, and my understanding hollow. I had not dwelled in Hell as she did, but she showed me what it looked like, and what it felt like. I offered myself to her, but my shallow sympathies were not enough. So instead, I offered her my fantasy.

I built worlds for her, and became the support she longed for. I presented her with an array of characters who could understand her far better than I, and then I became them. I was her door to the intangible, and the voice to the shadows whom she grew so attached to. She clung to these people, extracted from our favorite stories like folktale heroes or legendary myths walking aside us. They became her guards, protectors, and confidants… her family.

Yukine, her best friend and fellow lost soul… A-ya, the brother figure who shared in her loneliness. Roppi, her dearest person who could understand her deepest, darkest thoughts. Kaneki, her older sibling and protector… Every one of you had a place in her life at some time or another, given breath by my portrayal.

But this, even this, it hadn’t been enough for her. No matter how well I acted, or how real I made it, she would still see past them from time to time. Her eyes would take on a glassy and despairing look, as she couldn’t avert her eyes forever, no matter how little she wished to bear the truth.

“What’s the point?” she’d ask, so empty. “They don’t exist. They’re not real. People aren’t actually like that. They aren’t like that.” The way she’d curl into her bony self, as if her frail pieces only fit together properly when in the fetal position. “I’ll end up alone.”

“Listen,” I told her. “Somebody thought them up, didn’t they?” I knelt in front of her, sitting resignedly on her clothes-strewn bedroom floor. “And if you’re thinking these things, somebody else out there’s gotta be thinking them, too. You’re a wonderful person, and so… and so that means there are other people who are just as wonderful! Besides, I don’t think I’m too bad of a person myself. I’m a people, you know.”

She looked at me, but her skepticism was written into her visage, and the dullness of her eyes was potent enough to threaten to deaden my optimism. “I’m not so great,” she said.

“Who says?”

“I do. Loads of other people too.”

“Well, I’ll sock ‘em – those other people – right in the nose!”

Slightly, her mouth twitched. I leaned forward, hopeful for a smile, but she only looked away. “You wouldn’t manage that much, anyway. You’re weak as fuck.”

I deflated. “You shouldn’t underestimate the power of my love,” I said sternly, but my confidence had petered. This happened often. Seraph… she often would ask such questions, ones I couldn’t find the answers to:

“Why did I go through everything I did?”

“Why is it so hard?”

“How can anyone be happy?”

“How do you know you won’t leave me someday? You don’t know the future. You don’t know the circumstances.”

“Can people change?”

“Can people really, really change?”

“Why do I feel like I’m going in circles, then?”

I didn’t know then. I couldn’t; I was so naïve and—stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

One of our discussions started like this: “I don’t think anybody is actually nice.” She was unwaveringly bitter. “I don’t think anybody really cares about anyone else. We’re all selfish, disgusting things that don’t want to look at the ugliness of the world, and of each other, and of ourselves. There is no such thing as hope. There is no such thing as happiness. Some people are just better off pretending.”

“That’s pretty stark,” I informed her, and she glared at me pointedly. Nervous, I twined my fingers together. “What I mean, is… well, correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure you care far too much about people.”

“Mm.” She didn’t seem convinced.

Neither was I. “I care about people, too,” I said. “So you’re gonna have to prove to me that people are only concerned with self-interest. Alright?”

“Fine,” she said, and pulled out a piece of paper and a purple marker, pulling off the cap with her teeth. I blinked, perplexed, and as I saw her writing out names of characters, I understood. Her problems were always solved with the intangible. She wrote out names like A-ya and C-ta, and Shizuo and Izaya, Yato and Nora, Seidou and Akira, Ciel and Sebastian… You see where I’m going with this?

“What’re ya doing?” I asked with curiosity in my tone, and she didn’t look up.

“Pit them against one another. Make them fight.” She shoved the page at me, and I scrabbled to catch it, blinking bemusedly at the list. “It’s kill or be killed. Everyone’s gonna act selfishly; it doesn’t matter who they are.”

I frowned. “Gimme that,” I said, and grabbed the marker. I wrote down names like Ayano and Konoha… Saiko and Shirazu… Yukine and Hiyori… “If you want to prove your point, you’ve gotta try to prove it wrong,” I said simply at her skeptical look. “Gotta make sure it still stands. If they act selfishly too, then you’re right.”

“Alright,” she said slowly.

“Is this supposed to be a death game?” I asked, all official-like. I was all about execution. Rules. Structure. “Is it a battle royal? Last one standing wins?”

“Yeah.” She spoke as if it were obvious, and I were being an idiot.

“Well, then I think that the rules of the game will state things of that sort. And then, I think that if they reach the end by cooperating with one another, thereby defying every one of their instincts as well as the word of authority and the assumptions of the situation… If they cooperate with one another, they should be duly rewarded for being good people.” I flashed Seraph a smile. “How’s that sound?”

Seraph stared at me, caught between surprise and annoyance and indifference. Seemed she couldn’t decide, so she just shrugged.

We never got to start that game up together. We never saw a beginning, let alone an ending. Not together. The following weekend, I received a text message from her, something like a goodbye.

Do you remember your starting point, Group 2? Do you remember the rooftop of a skyscraper, the railing low, the sky wide and welcoming, as if beckoning to spread your wings and fly? That was where I found her, my heart pounding from the mix of the adrenaline of the situation and the effort of getting there as quickly as I could manage. I’m sure the desperation was written on my face, but she had foolishly decided she couldn’t read it.

“I hate this game we live in,” she said to me, indifferent to the slamming of the door as I burst from the building and stared. Her back was to me. She wore that grey hoodie of hers, with all its stitches from when she would cut into the fabric as an attempt to refrain from using the blade on her flesh. I imagined it as her very construct, messily torn and patched back up. She had grown, but she’d been put together wrong, and now her feeble frame couldn’t hold her anymore. She was still inchoate, and unsettled in her own design. She’d never known solidity. There was no foundation, and she knew not how to build.

“I hate it,” she said. “I know too much. I hate knowing the truth about people. Do you know I can watch somebody and figure out what they might’ve gone through? I guess it comes with the package – you go through enough shit, you start to know what it looks like. What it tastes like, too.” She was spitting her words into the open air, oozing with bitterness.

I didn’t know what to say to that. ‘We all have shit’? That didn’t seem ideal. I heard sirens in the distance. People below must have noticed. I had the hope that they could come and save her. What a coward I was.

Finally, she turned her head to look at me. Her hair billowed in the higher-altitude gusts of summer air. This person, Seraph… her name was Sky at the time. Sky, as vast as the firmament above us, and as open. Her hair was dyed red, then. Not violet. “Can we change?” she asked me. That question again. “Can we?”

Her voice was so quiet, but somehow, I still heard her, the soundwaves resonating in both ears and chest. She wanted me to convince her.

“Can we pull ourselves out of whatever rut we’re stuck in? Can we develop, and build ourselves? For better? Or do we try, and just fall into the same cycle over, and over…” she looked out to the expanse before her again, “…and over again?”

This was the first time I heard that voice within me. It smiled, uttering: ‘Just because you care, it won’t change the ending. She’ll hurt you again and again. She wants this sweet embrace of oblivion. There is nothing left for her, anyway.’

 (No.) I shook my head. “It’ll be fine,” I said. “The sky is ever-changing, and even if the sun sets, the moon rises – and day still begins again!” I took a step forward, desperation making my heart hammer in my ears. “Sky and hope go hand in hand, but all too often we can’t see beyond the darkness of the moment we’re trapped in. But everything, everything ends sometime – even the bad! And so…”

“Everything,” she repeated. There was a pause. I swear my heart held its breath with me. “I’m sorry,” she said, and though I ran for her – I think I screamed – I could not reach her when she let go of the railing – I grasped at thin air as she plummeted thirty stories, giving up on the sky and the hope and just falling—flying.

Sky became Seraph.

I watched the impact. If there was anything beautiful about it, it was that the scene was her favorite color. After all, I’d always chimed to her that red was the color of heroes in my very best Ayano Tateyama voice.

The fools met the same ending.

Maybe I was the fool then.

I don’t know how long I remained on that rooftop, my hands gripping the railing so tight they could have stuck that way if the authorities didn’t pry me away from it. I couldn’t tell where I was at that time. I was everywhere and nowhere, searching for answers, answers to a problem that I couldn’t possibly solve anymore. There is no way to fix what’s already broken, smashed on the pavement with all the force of gravity and despair.

So goes the tale of Seraph.

Surely you understand where this is going… This tale is going to follow a dreadful cycle. Loss over loss over loss. It’s as if you know the whole story already; you have its parts and its structure. I’m going to spoil things for you and confirm that this is pretty much all it is. All it was. And all it will ever be. This was reality.

My good friends knew about the incident, and Greyson in particular was devastated. He always felt too much. My friends then were Greyson and Rainbow; Rodd and Aureus. Rodd was the blank-faced sensation of dry humor. Generally quiet, if he spoke, his words would either hold great weight or inspire laughter. Grey was good-natured and childish, perhaps acting a bit like a twelve-year-old boy from time to time. In public, he stood firm and disgruntled, expression implying the wish of the death of humankind. Around us, however, he was no more than a large teddy bear with a dark sense of humor. Rainbow was social media savvy and fluent in fandoms, an internet addict with dark eyes that reflected everything, like the surface of questionable waters. And then, of course, there was Aureus, the conspiracy theorist and self-proclaimed hero who was always riled up over one thing or another, or else so exhausted from trying to save the world that he’d hibernate for full days at a time. Believe it or not, I was the one exuding optimism and goodwill – what do you think of that?

But even though we all mourned the loss of Seraph, it was Greyson who seemed to be hit the hardest. Not me. Me, I felt oddly alienated being comforted by any and everyone who tried. Nothing felt right. I didn’t know why, but I was smiling. I wanted to make sure everyone else was okay, maybe, because it just wouldn’t do to lose anyone else. That wasn’t how it worked. I should have known that.

After Seraph was gone, Rodd came next. Though we have a structure to our story, there was no pattern. Only succession.

Rodd was the only one I knew who had no significant pains to harbor. He hadn’t expressed any demons. Maybe he was just real quiet about it – I couldn’t tell. Whatever tragedies he bore, he did it silently. We were in the midst of fall when his father’s health deteriorated. With the source of income for the family suddenly bedridden, the situation was already complicated. I don’t know the details of the condition, only that the hospital we have in this city wasn’t enough to take care of it – he needed to find treatment elsewhere.

Group 3, do you recall the fountain where you began? That fountain was where, one day in high school, he confessed to me, and where I’d smiled… and apologized. Because for some reason, as much as I cared for my dear friends, I did not know how to love. Not like that. It was that same fountain where he told me the situation of his father, and for the first time, I saw him shed tears.

“I’m heading to another city,” was the way he started the conversation, standing with his hands in his pockets, watching the continuous stream of the fountain.

“Huh?” I knew about his father, but didn’t know enough to presume that was why they were leaving. “How far?”

“About an eight hour drive.” He looked at me, then, and he was as impassive as he always was. Barely perceptible was the trouble in his dark eyes, or the so-slight furrow of his brow. “It’s for my dad. That’s where the closest place is that can treat him. We don’t even know… that—it’ll work or not, but if we don’t try, then… well.” He swallowed, averting his eyes again and pulling off his baseball cap. Restless, he ran a hand through his hair. “Well then, he might not make it, and so…”

That voice, again: ‘Look at his pain. Look at it. Wonder how much he’s kept inside.’ Again, I refused the voice. “Rodd,” I said. My empathy was open to him – would he confide? He never had before. “Gosh, that’s horrible. I’ll emanate the power of my love, promise,” I assured him.

Even if his glasses obscured his eyes, I caught sight of one, two tears trickling down his cheeks. “I don’t know what to do,” he said, his voice so quiet, more vulnerable than I’d ever heard of him. “But there’s nothing to do… I—I just… I just wish I had a little more time.” I realized I’d never actually taken a moment to look at him; realized that I hadn’t even thought to piece him together and figure out who he was. The tears slipping down his cheeks were the residue of the person I didn’t get the chance to know, leaking out from behind the blank face he always wore. Blank, silent, and transparent – hidden behind the refracted light of his spectacles. I thought perhaps that he liked to carry the weight of everyone else, too, and wondered why I hadn’t noticed.  It manifested in the form of his backpack – never had I seen him pull something from his bag that was intended for his own use. Suddenly I wanted to come to know him as he truly was – more than just his self-portrayal, a concept. Just as suddenly, I realized I wouldn’t have the chance to.

I hugged him. He sort of half-embraced me in turn, awkward, and as soon as I released him he took to wiping at his eyes to eliminate the traitors – emotions, those dastardly things. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“You don’t need to be sorry,” I murmured back.

He chuckled a bit, rather dry. “If I didn’t apologize for everything, who would I be?”

I watched him, eyes searching and unsure of what I’d found. He’d already composed himself, though his brow furrowed in a show of concern rather than distress.

“But I need to make sure,” he said. “I need to know that you’ll be okay.”

“And Grey and Rain?” I answered.

He nodded.

“I’ll see to it.” I poked at his nose, giggling, and he blinked a few times. “You’d best take care when you go, too. Take care of yourself, and I’ll call on all the higher powers I can think of to help your dad—okay? I’ll be resonating with willpower, so be ready!” As I struck a determined pose, I found him smiling in that subtle way.

He and his family left soon after; they hadn’t the opportunity to wait with the urgency of his father’s situation. It was a rather modest tale in comparison, but so goes Rodd’s end.

I didn’t really think much of the way I was reacting to all of this until Grey pointed it out. I was spending time with him and Rainbow, bingeing some anime at my house when we had to pause an episode involving suicide—namely, someone jumping from a high rooftop. It was Rainbow who paused it, expression dark, as Greyson had begun to cry, trying to stifle it yet remaining audible.

“I’m sorry,” said Grey. “I’m so sorry. I-I-I just can’t, I can’t… I, I can’t believe… I…”

“Dear,” said Rainbow. She had that special look on her face, carefully stoked warmth and worry. She had no words of consolation beyond that: neither Seraph nor Rodd had really been of much concern to her. She liked them because we liked them, and so she mirrored sadness because Grey was sad. Grey and I were who mattered, that was all. There was nothing really wrong with that, it was just the way it was.

Because I sat between them, Rain reached over behind me to touch Grey on the shoulder, but he jerked away, pulling off his glasses and desperately wiping at his eyes. Rain drew back and, as I glanced over at her, I caught a sour look.

“Greyson,” I said, soft and soothing. “Am I right in guessing that you think of…?”

“Yes,” he managed, but it came out more a gasp, as he was still choking on his sobs.

“Look…” I offered a smile, my brow clinched with regret. “It’s a sad, sad thing… But no matter what we do, we can’t change it… and so, we should live happily for her, don’t you think?”

His eyes flashed as he looked to me, trembling with emotion. “You can cry,” he said. “You can, too. My god, you were there when she—” He choked on his words, and didn’t finish the sentence. “You can trust us. You can trust me. Why don’t you… let it… out?”

He squeezed his eyes shut, in absolute distress. I couldn’t understand what it was he meant. Had I been acting oddly after all? I tried to think to release anything I had, but I couldn’t find anything to let out just then. I recognized that upon the scene we were watching relating to such a similar suicide, my heart had sped up, and I felt the tightening in my chest… but I had lost the ability to construe its meaning. I ended up attesting it to the caffeine of our ritualistic soda.

So instead, I shrugged. “I, I’m sorry. I don’t know… what else to do about it. I know it’s something I can’t fix anymore.”

He just looked at me for some time, his eyes shining with the welling of his sorrow. I couldn’t quite tell anymore what he was sad for. Then he shook his head, wiping at his eyes again and pardoning himself as he stood and left the room to collect himself. Beside me, I heard Rainbow sigh.

“You can, you know,” she said quietly, her hand on my arm.

“I guess I really can’t,” I answered. Because I didn’t know how.

Over the following weeks, Rain found every opportunity to spend time with me while I wasn’t at work or school. This was usually while Greyson was at work or school, as he had decided this fall to give college another go. I couldn’t tell if she was seriously worrying for me because I wasn’t showing the signs of grief, or if she just wanted a break from her betrothed… or maybe if she just didn’t like being alone in her abode.

Our talk was pleasant but aimless. For a time I thrived in the mindless triviality of our conversations, taking interest in seeing what Rainbow was like without Greyson at her side. I came to find that both of them were at their best without the other, but didn’t know how to address this. So, I merely noted it as a curious detail, and took no action. Without much noticing, I had begun to float along. I don’t much recall any of my real-world affairs at the time, and as it turned out, Rainbow was just as ungrounded as Seraph had been in terms of fantasy:

“A game of playing parts?” she asked. “Can I play?”

More than willing to slip back into the personas of someone else, I complied and built worlds with her like I’d done once upon a time before my niece had soared, imaginary wings outstretched. Together, we made the first written draft of the world we’re in right now. Privately, I decided upon appointing myself and Seraph as the masters of the game. It was her who started the idea, I might as well give her exactly what she wanted, right? I wanted to pay her respect by giving her a place. She deserved it, did she not?

Drawing out her design, I thought to give her wings and call her Seraph. I stared into the lines I’d etched into her graceful form. She, now as imaginary to me as the rest of the characters she’d been so well acquainted with.

That voice: ‘Someday,’ it said, ‘the pain will be over. She already has what she wanted. She lost her own game.’

I shivered. I didn’t like a voice that spoke like that. I didn’t like it at all. But there was something to it, I thought, and so I erased her wings. Even imaginary friends can die. Even shadows can be vaporized. Ideas can be trampled. Characters can perish.

The next to slip from me was Greyson, but it was more metaphorical than literal. Noticing I had been spending much of my time with Rainbow, I decided to pay Grey a visit at his workplace, by then at a small shop where Group 4 would have remembered first beginning. I entered cheerily and approached the cash register, peering over the counter to where I saw Grey sitting and idly flipping through a very small notebook.

“Wowie, I bet you have tiny, tiny sketches in there,” I commented, and he jumped, hurrying to close it and hide it under some papers.

“Aa-aa, aaa…” He adjusted his glasses, blinking profusely. “Wh…what’re you…?”

To be truthful, I was beginning to tire of Rainbow’s surface-level conversations. I needed something deeper and more stimulating, and Grey could always be counted on for philosophical musings, and despite the fact I didn’t know how to reach any catharsis, there was something… warming about the fact that he made an attempt at reaching out. Of anyone I’d known, it was Greyson who most avidly tried to aid and assist me: me specifically. The poor guy was very much inundated with reality, and couldn’t escape it so easily with fantasy. He was just too grounded. I seemed to be the only one who could remind him the magic of fairy tales, or so he told me. Well, he didn’t say it like that, but that was the idea, uttered thoughtfully or reiterated with fidgeting fingers and averted eyes.

“I haven’t talked to you in far too long,” I said, “so we should hang out again, you and I.”

But today he wasn’t so open to conversation. “I… yeah… probably.” He looked down, a certain darkness in his eyes.

“How is Grey today?” I chirped, noticing the look. He didn’t answer, and I tilted my head. Waited another few beats, then tried again: “Grey? Is something the matter?”

“I don’t wanna bother Rainbow,” he answered, sullen.

“Bother her?” I furrowed my brow. Seemed there was trouble between them, after all. Instead of feeling guilty for not doing something about it, I instead felt delighted that I had noticed early. “Well… that’s a shame you have to worry about that, but you won’t have to if it’s just you and I, right?”

He still didn’t raise his eyes. “She’s attached to you. When could I spend time with you, anyway? She doesn’t do anything else. Maybe it’s better… maybe you can help her better than I can.”

“Oh, what’s this about?” I huffed.

“I—I just can’t deal with her. I don’t know—” He stopped himself. “I want to help her, and I want to be there for her, but I can’t. I don’t know what’s wrong with me—I just… I, I want to break her, it, it’s horrible, I don’t know why I—”

“That’s just ‘cause she doesn’t actually express anything real,” I said simply, as if it could be made that simple. “All you want is something, anything.”

He shook his head. “I don’t understand how she can flit through her obsessions so quickly, how she can be so connected and caring to all these people online while she stays so—fucking—blank.” He paused. “Why am I an asshole?” He lowered his face to his hands.

“You’re not,” I chided, gentle. “Well, you are. But we’re all assholes. But I sure like you, and I’d like to help you out with whatever’s going on.”

Greyson finally looked back at me, and I saw something flickering in his eyes: a conflict, a decision wrestling beneath his hard exterior, his lips thinning. I smiled encouragingly. I don’t know what it was that did it, but then the light went out, and he dropped his eyes, expression dead. He made his decision, whatever it was. “What’s the point? You shouldn’t bother.”

“But I want to—”

“Leave me alone. I only ever push people away, anyway.”

“Grey,” I said, and he gave me a cold look.

“Trust me,” he said, and smiled in an uncharacteristically cruel way. “I’m quite adept at burning bridges.”

‘That’s not true,’ said that voice. ‘He doesn’t want to be alone, he just doesn’t want to worry about hurting anybody. Stay.’

But I had already decided I didn’t like that voice. I didn’t listen. I left.

‘Laughter is louder than stifled tears.’

But I swore I still heard them behind me, before the door closed.

I was hoping that we could speak to one another like normal after that, as even though Greyson often dipped into dark places, he would always come up again. But he, convinced that he was sparing me grief, backed out from interaction with me until it was mostly just Rainbow and I. I felt like someone was picking apart my insides, one organ at a time. It didn’t hurt, just felt more and more empty.

“Please,” I said to Rainbow, cutting her off from a detailing of an online chatroom experience she’d just had. “Could you tell me? Is Greyson okay?”

She blinked at me. “Of course,” she said. “Nothing’s wrong.”

I looked back and realized I’d never hear it from her.

Unable to muster up the self-worth or motive to reach out further, I gave up on Grey eventually – our connection had been severed, so it seemed, while Rain clung fast to anything we might forge in our time spent. Here, Grey’s tale is put on hold, and Durden’s begins.

My home life began to change drastically around this time, as my brother was coming back to live with me and our mother. After his daughter Seraph died, he had no reason to be working overtime for a place of his own, barely managing the monthly rent. He needed to get back on his feet, and the best way to do that was to return home, as shameful as he must have felt doing so. When I heard the news from my mother, I was mildly surprised that it wasn’t Durden himself that had told me, but I shrugged it off and hoped for some time with him in the near future. Not only would it be good to make sure he was okay after the incident with Seraph, it was also a potential relief from the surface-level interactions I’d gotten myself caught in with Rain.

Much to my disappointment, he spent most of his time in his room when he was actually home. Even when I managed to catch him, he answered me dismissively and most often just retreated back into his room. Rain kept showing up at the house, and whenever she was around, it was guaranteed that I wouldn’t get more than a grunt out of my brother.

One morning, I resolved to spend time with him. Waiting until eleven or so when I knew I was more likely to get him up and moving, I knocked on his bedroom door and opened it, poking my head in with a, “Good morning, Brother!”

He grunted, an eye opening hazily before he decidedly rolled over to turn his back to me.

“Oh no, you don’t.” I grabbed at his blanket and rid him of his covers. “I wanna treat you to breakfast!”

Eventually, I convinced him. Going to the café nearby, he wasn’t very talkative on the way there. For the first time since Seraph’s funeral, we would be able to interact. I examined him as we waited in line: his eyes were sunken and dark, face drooping with grudging fatigue. My initial thought was that he looked much like he had before recovery.

I bought our goods and beverages, and we settled in the corner booth. I smiled brightly at him, hoping to prompt some conversation. “Hi, Brother.”

He smiled back, thin. His beard didn’t have to stretch so far now that he wasn’t smiling so wide. “Hey,” he said, ruffling my hair before pulling his pastry from its bag. “Been awhile.”

“Even though we’re only a hall apart,” I pointed out, and he sort of half-laughed.

“Yeah. How’ve you been?”

“Oh, I’ve been. And you?”

He chuckled; dry, bitter, short-lived. “I’ve been, too,” he said. There was a heavy pause. “Really, though, I hope you’re not holding up for somebody else’s sake again. If you bury shit, you fill up eventually. It doesn’t hold.”

“I’m not all too sure,” I said. “We’re here, and we can’t change what’s behind us.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that it sucks.”

I thinned my lips, and conceded his point. “I, I don’t know why, but I really… I really am fine. Like… weirdly fine.” He peered at me in part perplexity, part inquiry, and I stared back, straight and honest. I could talk to him, surely. I couldn’t talk to Rainbow, that was sure. I didn’t want to tell Aureus. Rodd was difficult to communicate with over the phone. And Greyson… well. “It’s not like I don’t care, I just… I’m okay. Is that bad?”

He stared at me as he munched at his pastry, silent. Folding my hands together in front of me, I waited. He wiped at the area around his mouth with a napkin. “Sorry,” he said, “I’m a fat boy.” He sipped at his coffee, then sighed. “I don’t know how you do it. What the fuck. I dunno, maybe you’ve got some burying issues? But I’d believe it if you were really coping that well.”

“How are you coping?” I asked, and he got a dark look in his eyes that he covered up by pinching and massaging the bridge of his nose.

“I sleep a lot. And I work a lot,” he offered. “If I work hard enough, I’m distracted enough that I forget. If I don’t forget, I feel like a piece of shit.” He looked at me. “A complete piece of shit.”

“You’re not a piece of shit.”

“Yes, I am,” he said, as if it were fact. “I was already a failure of a father, but the one kid I got to keep, I still fuck it up. I’m a shithead. A shithead.” He started on his second pastry. “An asshole,” he added, mouth full.

“Brother, you’re not—”

“Ah-ah-ah,” he cut me off, raising a finger. “No. That’s how I feel, and I can’t get rid of that anytime soon. I can’t fix this. I can’t make amends. It’s impossible. But I gotta keep going, because what else do I do?” He heaved a sigh, lowering his eyes. “I fucking hate reality,” he said.

“Oh?” I said, prompting him for more. Best to urge him forward rather than interject.

“I’ve always hated reality, and I have a thing against growing up; you know that,” he said. “But I’m too damned sane; I always hit ground again. When I got away from the drinking and drugging, I decided I needed to find my balance. Why? Because it was the one thing I didn’t want. Me, I thrive in chaos.” He looked at me. “Thrive in it.”

I nodded.

“But I need organized chaos. A method to the madness. Chaos… hah. Is there any plot to that? Any structure? That’s what I need back. I need that. Structure, that is. Not chaos. I’ve got plenty of that.” He brought his hands to his face, then dragged them down. Took a sip of his coffee.

“Well,” I said, “you’re following your usual pattern of pastry. See, look, you saved the cinnamon bun for last, just like always.”

He looked at me, then smiled a tired smile. “Hah… You’re right. I’m doing a structure thing.” He shook his head, looking at his cup of coffee with a distance to his gaze. “Heavy metal.”

It was a few nights after that, at two or three in the morning, that he called me. I was in bed and unable to sleep, but I didn’t look at my phone screen, just looked at the way the light made the shadows deeper before closing my eyes once again.

I saw the alert in the morning, and felt something rotten creeping up in me as I stared at the words ‘missed call’ and thought too much about Seraph’s final text message. I couldn’t get up at first, just sitting there at the edge of my bed with my bare feet at my carpet. I was made of lead.

At some point I stood, feeling strangely numb again. “I’m gonna treat him to breakfast again,” I said, mostly to myself. Our mom was still asleep, judging by her closed door as I passed it. I approached my brother’s door, knocked, and opened it. It was very quiet.

His bedroom was empty.

Heart pounding, I searched the house and, when I couldn’t find him, went outside. His old and well-loved car was in the driveway over by the shed. I thought I could see a figure in the driver’s seat, unsettlingly still.

I approached. I could see him through the car window: there he was, sitting slumped on the seat. It was my brother, yeah, but he looked all wrong, his skin of ill pallor and his closed eyes sunken. I knocked on the window, and when he didn’t respond, I tried the door. It was unlocked, the door swinging open without protest.

“Good morning, Brother,” I said, even though it wasn’t, that wasn’t my brother sitting there, not anymore. This was his husk, cast aside after his insides had finally shriveled and withered away into nothing, nothing at all.

After staring for a while, I rounded the car and got into the passenger door, sitting beside him. I put my hand on his bare forearm as if to comfort him, or to rouse him from slumber. His skin was cold. The needle was still in his arm.

And I cried. After everything, I finally cried. I sat there beside him in his car and felt the chill of his body beside mine. My sobs felt foreign and grating. The voice, it said: ‘You don’t need the pain. Nobody does. He’s earned his rest.’ And as I shuddered with grief, I choked out a laugh because I realized then, right then, that the voice was me; it was me all along. So I laughed, and I cried, and I ached, and after all of it subsided I was left with a deep awareness of my hollow chest, all my losses pooling in my fingers.

Here ends Durden.

When I told Rainbow and Greyson, I told them together, presenting myself at their home and allowing myself to be invited in. Grey eyed me warily even though I could tell there was still a flicker of worry there in his guarded eyes. “Durden overdosed.” The statement was heavy and loaded with a hundred implications. I caught the sight of Greyson bringing his hands to his mouth, eyes struck with horror. He was close to Durden as I was close to Grey. I could swear he took a step forward to bridge our gap, but Rainbow… Rainbow.

She was there, her hands on my shoulders, teary-eyed as she gathered me in her arms and squeezed and told me everything would be alright. I didn’t respond, my skin static. I didn’t want to be touched. I didn’t want to be held. If she didn’t let go, I was thinking to take her by the throat, and—

But she did let go, and I was dimly surprised with myself for thinking such a thing.

It was Rainbow, Rainbow who decided that what I needed, what she needed was a vacation. A whole week to ourselves in some far-off cabin outside the city. She made the arrangements, explaining that Greyson could drive us and obviously it was an amazing idea because when times are rough like this, the best thing to do is just shut off for a while. I never verbally agreed, but the plans were made anyway and I found myself packing up for week’s worth of time apart from home.

The three of us got into Greyson’s car the day of departure, and to my surprise, he made eye contact with me and offered a weak smile. I blinked at him, but my cheery demeanor had dissipated into a chilled flat affect. Still, I twitched my mouth in a subtle answer before getting into the backseat of the car. Grey closed the door for me before getting in himself – Rainbow was already in the passenger’s side, playing around on her phone. Grey drove in a calm manner, and the ride was mostly quiet besides the rush of wind from the open windows. The breeze truly became pleasant once we made it out of the city, following a miles-long straight road where Grey could speed up without worrying about consequence.

“Say,” said Grey, and Rainbow glanced up. “It’s fine if I stick around too, right?”

I blinked. I’d thought it was a given, really.

“Oh,” said Rainbow. She put down her phone, and took to staring out the window. “Sure. If you want.”

I watched them from the backseat; the way Greyson’s hands tightened on the wheel, and the way Rainbow laid down a silence so heavy that even I could feel it weighing on my chest. I caught my own gaze in the rearview mirror, and was startled to find it unfamiliar. Why couldn’t I recognize my own eyes? Disregarding it for now, I shifted in my seat to see Grey’s gaze, cold and unwavering, fixed on the road but eerily blank. I felt the car speeding up. There was a slight curve ahead. I saw a guardrail. ‘Something’s happening,’ I thought to myself, and I just closed my eyes.

I heard Rainbow’s voice: “Grey, what are you—?” before the car jerked to the side and direction whirled as I felt myself whipped sideways, the sound of glass shattering and the sensation of a flash of light – I wore no seatbelt.

I felt impact and gasped, the wind knocked from my lungs. I didn’t feel car beneath me, but earth. How had that happened? Trying to get onto my hands and knees, I wondered why my eyes were still closed until, hazily, they began coming back into focus. My arm was running with blood and had pieces of glass sticking out. That wasn’t of concern, though. Lifting my head, I searched for the car and found it smashed beside the guardrail. I couldn’t make out either passenger through the smoke, and so I staggered to my feet only to watch as the engine exploded and engulfed the thing in flames.

After everything that had already happened, how was this possible? How could it even be possible? I remember screaming at the conflagration, as if someone could hear me – the fates, God, something, someone, anyone… It became a blur. Police and ambulances arrived at some point, and I must have been hysterical because the medics put me down.

When I did wake up, the light of fluorescents met my eyes. The hospital. I was in the hospital.

“Oh my god.”

I knew that voice. Slowly, I turned my head, and there was Aureus, sitting beside me. He’d been gone since before Seraph had died. He’d moved away. How could this golden-haired glory be here? He’d left to go to school. He’d left to become a doctor. Then again… that had been in the summer. By now, it was spring.

“Jeez!” he cried. “Are you okay? You scared the bajeezus out of me! I leave you for a couple of months and come back to find you’re in a car accident? What the hell did I miss?”

I sat up. “Greyson,” I said. “Rainbow. Where are they?”

“Hey,” he said disapprovingly, then said it again as I took the IV from my arm and got to my feet: “Hey! No! No, stop that, that’s bad, you know better—”

“Where are they?” I repeated.

“I, well, I just got here,” he said, holding up his hands peacefully. He’d also gotten to his feet.

‘Alone, alone,’ said the voice. ‘Alone, alone, you’ll be all alone.’ It was a breathless chant, a mantra. I couldn’t tell whether it was beautiful or horrific. What had Seraph said about life’s game? Was it ending yet? How could it end? ‘Win. You win the game.’ Really. And then my head just went back to the mantra from before: ‘Alone, alone.’

“Take me to the morgue,” I demanded, and Aureus blinked wide eyes.

“What? Why?” But by the severe concern striking his sharp features, I knew he understood.

“Just take me there.”

“We can’t do that.”

“Why not? You know where it is.”

He stared at me, brow furrowed. I stared back. He lowered his hands, then released a low whistle. “You look like you’ve been through hell,” he said.

“Take me to the—”

“I know, I know,” he said. “I got it. Right. This is ridiculous.” Pinching the bridge of his crooked nose, he went to the door of my hospital room. “Come on.” I followed him, and he took to talking as if nothing was horrifically amiss. “After this, I can get an update, right? Actually—scratch that. You might not wanna relive whatever just happened. I don’t know. Apparently I’ve missed a lot. I’m sorta miffed! But not at you. just—what the fuck?”

We passed by a pair of doctors chatting with one another about some patient that wasn’t me. One of them had their cart with them, all their trinkets laid out as if they were preparing for surgery. No one noticed when I grabbed a scalpel.

Aureus continued on: “I can’t believe I’m doing this. I really can’t. Yes I can. I’d ask how everyone’s doing, but somehow I feel like you don’t really wanna talk about it.” He licked his lips. “But uh… I gotta know, who was with you, when—?” He shook his head. “You know what? Never mind. Never mind. Right, Aureus, shut up, I’m using my scary face, can’t you tell I want some peace and quiet?”

I stared at him. He flashed a nervous grin. I wondered what my face might look like as he opened the door that led to the stairwell leading down. “I really don’t think we should go in,” he said as I descended the stairs anyway. He sighed heavily. “Hey. Don’t you wanna listen to my wisdom? Morgues are a bad idea. A bad idea. Bad mojo ‘n stuff. Also smelly. Do you know the smells I have smelled in my days as a nurse’s assistant? Now that I am an old man of twenty-five years, I’ve learned some things – like how you don’t go into the basement to check out the dead bodies—oh my god, that’s what you’re doing. You’re doing it. And I’m following you. I don’t know what’s going on!”

As the door to the morgue closed behind us, he stopped, crossing his arms over his chest and tapping his foot meaningfully. “So are you gonna talk? At least tell me to be quiet? Say hi, maybe? Nice to see you? Thank you for worrying about me? Thank you for showing me the morgue against your better judgment?”

“Give me… a moment,” I said, low and calm.

And he was silent, sinking and slumping with a small, puppy-like, “Okay.”

The rows of tables were daunting, and Aureus had been right about a distinct smell hanging in the air, but I hardly noticed, dead-set on my mission of finding their bodies. I was sure that no one would tell me they had perished until they knew I was better – but I needed to know, and I needed to know now.

The tags on their feet proved the identification of my friends. I had the sense not to wish to see their faces, instead taking a deep breath, my blood thrumming with the confirmation of this dark reality. What now?

“Oh, no…” Aureus was just beside me; he’d seen the names. Looking over at him, I saw him tugging at the hair at the back of his head, his freckled face in anguish. “I thought so… God, I hate being right…” He closed his eyes.

I looked down to the hand that held the scalpel, and uncurled my tightly gripped fingers. Seraph had taken her life. Rodd had disappeared. Durden had perished. And here in front of me lay Greyson and Rainbow. Of all my dearest friends, souls sparkling bright, I had only one friend left, standing at my side.

‘Look at everything you don’t need.’ Why had everyone left me? ‘You don’t need it.’ But I wasn’t sure the voice was right, even if it were my own. As I was left with only one piece of me left, I came to understand that I had only been living through them rather than myself – and so, with each subsequent loss, I lost more of myself. Was that it? Until only this voice would be left of me? Did that mean it was the real me? Did that mean it was all I truly had, when all these precious ties were so fleeting? How did I reclaim them and keep them? How did I reclaim myself?

‘Oh, the show’s not over yet.’

That’s right, because Seraph didn’t know what the end of the game looked like. After all, wasn’t it true that Seraph had wanted me to convince her, on the rooftop? Couldn’t I have offered shelter for Rodd so that he could remain with us? Couldn’t I have reached out to Greyson, or stopped him? Answered my brother’s call? Chosen to ease the tension in the car, or better yet, decided never to go on vacation in the first place? Every one of my closest friends… hadn’t I already killed them? They were still mine! Well… all but one.

‘Not the end of the game,’ said my voice, as I brandished the scalpel and as Aureus hunched forward and massaged the bridge of his crooked nose. ‘This is the door to the beginning.’

And gently, I put my free hand on his forearm, and as he lowered his hand from his face, I lashed out with the scalpel and was surprised by how smoothly it slit his throat. Reacting immediately, he grabbed me by the wrist and tried to stop the blood, looking as shocked as I felt, but of course by then he was too late, and his grip weakened, and he collapsed, and he died, and I… I, standing over him in the morgue, knew that I had achieved the status of ‘last one standing.’ Was it selfish? I didn’t want it. Did that yet prove Seraph wrong? Unable to yet find an answer, I took to laughing. I laughed, and I laughed, and


“—That’s not what happened.”

There was a beat of silence; confusion.

Everyone’s attention snapped to the new speaker to find a ruffled girl of Rika’s age and stature, her hands on her hips. Standing behind her was none other than Akise, his hands in his pockets.

“What?” Muse seemed just as baffled as The Eight, and said survivors began exchanging wordless glances. Throughout the tale Muse had told them, sympathy had been successfully instilled in some of them—others, not so much. The general epiphany among them was the thought of Akise’s proposal: that Muse really was the only real one here, and therefore it stood to reason they had jurisdiction over the other game masters – they were the ‘author’ after all, right?

Where these game masters originated, however, did at least seem to put things into perspective. It was no wonder Muse hadn’t wanted the game to end – A-ya in particular understood the sentiment that ‘if the game ends, we end.’ What a lonely existence it was.

Izaya knew not what to make of the ‘living vicariously through other people’ parallel. He’d given that up, anyway – there was no use in it; very inefficient. But it seemed that even now, Muse was not living, but using other people to be alive. Who would they be without a story to tell? Perhaps Muse would be nothing at all.

But now the center of attention was not Muse, but this little girl stepping forward and defying her surroundings just by being. As their perceptions bent around her, making room for her presence, the conglomerate came to the silent understanding that this girl must be the eighth game master. Who else could it be? And then – what did her statement mean? Was all they’d just heard, too, a fabrication?

There are only things that sound like truths, and things that sound like lies. Right?

Shintaro only knew one thing – that he had heard this little girl’s voice before. Looking at her, he could only come to the conclusion that she was what happened to Light Yagami.

Rika stared into the girl we know as Anna, awestruck by the way reality made way for her. She had many questions to ask, but held her tongue. It’s her, she thought. The piece that doesn’t fit. The piece we need.

Seidou, frustrated with the confusion of the moment, was halted by Kaneki before he could interject, as the unspoken leader held out his arms and took a step back, signaling for the others to make room for this scene to unfold. Though everyone complied, Yukine couldn’t help but wonder what this would mean for the game, being interrupted like this. What would become of them, The Eight? Would they exist at all? Existence was such a fleeting, unstable thing… Yukiteru was deeply pondering what the end of Muse’s tale would have been – Muse had won their own battle royal, so what had been their prize? And that said – what would The Eight receive? Would they receive?

“I said, ‘That’s not what happened,’” repeated the young anomaly, stepping forward while Muse took a step back.

Yukiteru tried to catch the eye of Akise, and the silver-haired detective offered an apologetic smile. Assuring, too. Yukki was filled with hope by the transaction, and tried to relay it to A-ya by squeezing his hand. He still felt solid under the pressure of his fingers. He, Yukki, still felt solid, too. This painful hope in his chest, and the fire of his determination – could it really all be imaginary?

“You can’t be here,” said Muse. Their purple eyes flashed, cold.

“Why can’t I be in my own tower?”

“That’s…”

“Her tower?” murmured Rika.

Yukine looked up to Izaya, who was staring at Anna with rapt attention. His interest was piqued.

Seidou couldn’t take it anymore. “Who are you?” he asked, but Anna hadn’t so much as looked at any of them yet, nor did she spare them a glance now.

“The game should be over, now. Let’s end it,” she said, approaching Muse.

“You can’t be here,” the master repeated. Had their image always been so unclear? Their eyes, they were so pale. “You won’t mess this up.” It sounded like a threat.

“Oh, it’s so boring not being allowed to play,” she huffed. “I’ll kick you in the shin.”

“I don’t know who you are.”

“Oh.” The little girl smiled brightly. “I’m Anna.” She reached for Muse, and they backed into the control panel, teeth gritted and eyes wide.

“Don’t touch me,” they said, syllables sharp with outrage and—was that fear?

“Why not?” So innocent.

“I won’t let you. I won’t let you ruin it—” Muse reached for a button on the panel, and Anna grabbed Muse’s opposite arm: “I won’t let you!” they screeched, and their fist slammed into the button, and suddenly—

All was dark, dark as ink blotted on a page. It was all there was, like the lights had been turned out and the story was over. All with the click of a button, and now there was nothing, nothing left at all. Not even a scene to write, nor a single indignant thought to protest it.

 

 

 

Chapter 117: Intro?

Chapter Text

Snap.

The lights went up. It was like the sun rose and the sky came to life all in an instant. One moment, darkness – the next, it’s noontime. There was immediate confusion. Twenty-three people stood upon individual pillars, all facing one another in a circle, and all of them mere silhouettes to one another’s eyes.

In the center of the circle, there was a figure standing atop their platform: they looked around at everyone with cold purple eyes glimmering with smug anticipation. They wore a simple white sleeveless button up, black dress pants, black shoes. They ran a hand through their short brown hair, grinning. They were called Muse.

Welcome!” they greeted, loud and clear. “And congratulations!” They turned around as they stood, facing and catching the eye of every single one of the silhouettes. Inconspicuous, there was a bandage wrapped around their right forearm, just large enough to be the size of, say, a ten-year-old’s hand. “All of you have been chosen to participate in The Emina Games! Why don’t we start with introductions? Ken Kaneki, would you kindly start us out?”

The visual veil was lifted from the first of the players, a nineteen-year-old boy with white hair and an eyepatch over his left eye, standing aghast. “I don’t understand,” he said faintly.

“Just give your name and species,” said Muse. They smiled cruelly at him. “Here, I’ll start. I’m Muse, and I take the form of human.”

“I—I have an objection—”

“What is this folly?” asked a small-statured silhouette, six platforms to Kaneki’s left. Sounded like a small child.

“You can’t be serious!” said an amber-eyed silhouette near her.

“Oh,” said the silhouette next to him. “Yukine, is that you?” This shadow’s bright blue eyes gave away that he was smiling. “Thank goodness.”

The amber-eyed one seemed to try to say something again, but could apparently find no words.

“If you will not introduce yourself, I will introduce you,” said Muse, clapping their hands at that show. “As fun as this is. Shall we? The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we get to the game!”

“This cannot be…,” said the small child who’d spoken.

“Wow, this is fucked up,” said a hazel-eyed silhouette, and nervous tittering was heard from the red-brown orbed shadow beside him.

“Will we get an explanation?” asked a blue-eyed boy, looking and sounding rather young. “Because I demand an explanation.”

“Damn straight we need an explanation,” said the single-eyed female nearby.

“My, my,” said a silhouette with eyes of rose.

“We remember,” whispered a red-eyed boy. The shadow of him shivered.

“What in particular, A-ya?” said the green-eyed shadow beside him. “Aa, of course I know that that’s you, A-ya…”

The shadow couldn’t seem to answer him.

“I’d like to know the point of this,” said the yellow-eyed one at A-ya’s other side. Anyone who was looking could tell that A-ya wanted to shrivel away by his posture, trembling.

“Perhaps we can go over all that after we get acquainted, hm?” suggested Muse. “Kaneki?”

“I…” Kaneki looked around at everyone, then blinked, touching his eyepatch as if he had only just noticed it there. “Ken Kaneki. Artificial half-ghoul.”

The next silhouette seemed preoccupied with examining themselves, and when it revealed a brown-haired man in a dark blue suit with red tie, he still seemed to be gathering his bearings. “I… I…”

“Oh,” said a grey-eyed silhouette in a very small voice.

“Wh… wh…” His brown eyes flashed as he scowled at Muse. “What the fuck is this?” he spat. “Some sick joke?!”

“Name and species,” smiled Muse.

He scoffed. “Seidou Takizawa. I’m…” He looked down at himself, brow furrowed. Then back at Muse. “I’m…” He swallowed. “I’m…?”

“Species, human,” said Muse. “Carry on.”

Seidou looked stricken. He and Kaneki exchanged glances.

“Akira Mado… human.”

Seidou made the mistake of looking over at her and catching her concerned gaze. He decidedly crouched down on his platform, not looking at anything while he pressed the palms of his hands to the back of his head.

“Hideyoshi Nagachika, but you all can call me Hide!” chirped the bleached blond one beside Akira. He looked rather concerned, but it was hard to tell whether he was concerned for Seidou, or Kaneki, or both. Regardless, he remained cheery. “I’m, uh, human!” He tried to catch Kaneki’s eye to smile reassuringly at him, but he couldn’t seem to catch his friend’s gaze.

“Juuzou Suzuya, human,” said the next, peering curiously at Seidou as he picked distractedly at the red threads sewn into his lower lip. Then he took to staring with wide eyes at Kaneki, who was evidently intriguing to him. Kaneki merely touched his chin, his eyes far away and refusing to meet anyone else’s.

“Shizuo Heiwajima,” said a blond in gruff tones. He huffed. “Well, I don’t know what the fuck a ‘half-ghoul’ is… but I’m a human.”

Izaya tittered as he was revealed, a hand to his mouth as if he were trying to stifle his mirth. Ah, but his eyes shone with something feverish.

“Oh, no,” said Shizuo, low and horrified by the presence of the informant.

“Izaya Orihara,” he said breathlessly. “Human; I’m a human.”

“…” When Celty was revealed, she awkwardly typed out her introduction, holding it out even though no one could feasibly read it.

“Celty Sturluson,” Muse announced, cheerful. “A Dullahan, and mute. Carry on!”

“Izaya Hachimenroppi,” said the next, looking bothered. “I prefer Roppi. I’m unfortunately human.”

Izaya seemed to be the only one of the previous three who didn’t look alarmed.

Two Izayas?” said Shizuo, looking sour. “What the fuck…”

“Please don’t compare me to him,” Roppi answered in distaste, lip curling.

“Oh, uh.” Shizuo ran a hand through his hair, looking befuddled. He guessed he wouldn’t want to be compared to him either but… this was confusing. “Er, sorry.”

“Spare me,” said Izaya, looking like he may break down into laughter again. Or maybe just hysterics. What was the difference, anymore?

“Uh… Shintaro Kisaragi.” The NEET had hopeful eyes, though his brow was furrowed. He looked on the verge of tears. Fidgeting with his fingers, he looked at everyone and was nearly overcome with emotion. “Human,” he said, and his voice cracked. He cleared his throat.

“Ah… Konoha,” said the next. “I think I have been told I am an android.”

“Konoha!” cried Shintaro, eyes welling.

“Hello,” he greeted in that blank way of his. “I am happy to know there are friends—”

“Oh, spare the chatter,” said the next: the spitting image of Konoha, but all in black in grey. He looked on Konoha with disdain. “There are laws being broken, you and I standing in the same realm.”

“Ah?” Konoha shivered, shrinking under his yellow gaze.

“You can call me Kuro Konoha, or Kuroha for simplicity’s sake,” the demon said with cold, lopsided smile. “If not that, Saeru is also fine. My species is complicated. You can call me a serpent demon inhabiting an android body.” He swiveled his bone-chilling eyes to the next: A-ya. The way the boy tensed made the demon smile. “Your turn, A-ya,” he said, tone smooth.

A-ya stared at his feet. “A-ya. Human.”

“It’s a pleasure,” said the brunette revealed beside him. His green eyes were drooping and friendly. “C-ta, human.”

“Um, Yukiteru Amano,” said Yukki, tugging at the rim of his hat, and looking over to try to catch the eye of A-ya. It was hard with C-ta between them. “Human.”

“Aru. Aru Akise.” So smoothly did the silver-haired boy smile. “Nice to be a valid player.” He looked at Muse, and caught their gaze, steady. “I am human.”

Minene introduced herself next, disgruntled. Rika was dejected as she spoke. Yato seemed absolutely chipper, and his puffy-fluff scarf was intact. Yukine’s air expressed his inner conflict, and it wasn’t helped by Nora’s sugary smooth introduction following immediately after. Shinichi seemed rather distracted as he gave his introduction, but was otherwise as unconcerned as he once had been. Twelve, the final player, consoled the others around him with a promise of goodwill and the fact they were at least not alone in the confusion.

Muse piped in that Twelve was right about one thing – there would have to be some working together at the very least, for Muse would be placing them in teams of four. Suzuya tried to ask what kind of game they were playing, but the master only cut him off and said, “To each their own. Good luck, everyone!” before everyone was taken away by means of teleportation.


Yukine looked around on their blue spot over the dirt road leading to one of the two traditional-style homes. It was the same marking, and the same building, the same sky, the same scenery, the same people. The utter repetition was maddening. Could this really be happening? Mind you, Yukine didn’t have all that filler – as far as he was concerned, he saw this exact scene only, like, four days ago.

“I can’t believe this…” Shizuo pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of all the people to be in my group—”

“Hey!” cried Yato, cutting off the ex-bartender. “Would you look at that, Yukine? It almost looks like Kofuku’s place!”

Yukine shrugged, looking around at everyone anxiously. He licked his lips. How much did Yato recall, or Shizuo? Anything at all? Should he bring it up? What should he do? He tried looking to Izaya for help in his decision, but the informant refused to meet his gaze. The youngest frowned deeply in a sickening mixture of frustration and fear.

Yato clapped his hands together, sensing the awkwardness. “So! What do you say? We’re all a group, huh? We’re totally gonna win.”

Shizuo just looked at him. “You sound a lot like that flea bastard over there.”

“Hah? Do I?”

“Yeah. It’s pissing me off.”

“Oh.”

They’re acting the same, thought Yukine. He felt ill.

But there was Izaya. “Hehe… heh…” His mouth twitched. “Isn’t this… just… precious?

“Oh, what,” growled Shizuo, obviously displeased. “Because this situation’s fuckin’ fantastic.

Izaya snickered, eyes flickering with his old mirth. Yukine stared at him in alarm. “Quite. I’d like to see you try to work with me and act human at the same time. You think you can manage?”

“Why, you…”

Izaya lifted his hands in a peaceful gesture. His smirk spread. “I wouldn’t hurt me if I were you. I’m on your team, remember?”

“Tch…” Shizuo started to mutter something under his breath, but Izaya continued:

“I’ll have you know, Shizu-chan, that no matter what you do, or what we do, you and I are stuck together, so you’re just gonna have to deal with my company!” Yukine thought perhaps that the mirth of his eyes was glazed over with something more akin to desperation. “Really a shame, truly a shame – it will be the ultimate test of your willpower! To think, you have to work with me!”

“If you actually cooperate and aren’t too much of an asshole… then that might not be a problem,” Shizuo growled. He took a step towards Izaya, whose mouth stretched yet further over his features. “But unfortunately, I don’t trust your ability not to be a flea, so I doubt this’ll be anywhere near pleasant…”

Yato leaned down to Yukine. “You think they’ll ever stop?” he asked. Yukine ground his teeth together.

“It would certainly be easier if you weren’t the impulsive protozoan that you are,” Izaya said easily.

Your problem,” rumbled Shizuo, “is that you’re a selfish, lying maggot that only causes chaos.”

“And your anger is as explosive as your eloquence is lacking.”

“Ya think I’m stupid? You’re stupid, flea!”

“And you’re using the same insult twice in a row, degenerate buffoon.”

“You’re causing shit like always, and for what?! You’ll be the death of us!”

“Why don’t you kill me yourself? It’d make you a monster.”

Fuck you.”

“Besides, I’m completely and perfectly calm, just having a regular old conversation while you’re the one who’s—”

“What is WRONG with you?!” snapped Yukine, grabbing Izaya by the hood and yanking him away from the taller blond, forcing the informant to face him. The two arguing had gotten toe-to-toe as the tension rose, but though the breached personal space was regained for Shizuo, the tension was equally high. “Have you learned literally nothing?!” The Shinki’s tone was fiery. “You can’t be serious! Do you remember anything? Anything at all?!”

Shizuo wanted to protest, but didn’t know what he was protesting.

Izaya looked back into Yukine’s despairingly furious eyes, wearing that old cruel smile and guarded cold gaze… but his mask of mirth fractured, his smug smile dropping. When he spoke, his voice was weak and hollow. “Yukine-kun… please.”

Now Shizuo was even more befuddled.

Painfully, Izaya smiled again. “Look, it can be everything it was at the start. Call me selfish all you want, but this, it was what I wanted back. I know you get it too – haven’t you regained your losses? Hah? Can’t we have this? Can’t we?”

Yukine’s frustration had melted into sympathy, but he still didn’t release Izaya’s shirt collar, crumpled into his fist.

Shizuo, looking very much not-angry and instead rather discomfited, looked over to Yato, wondering when the hell Izaya would have made friends with a dead kid from another reality. Or when Izaya would have made friends. Period. Well, he guessed they didn’t really seem like friends. But still. More concerning was the way Izaya had so quickly unraveled into something… really… uh, not-Izaya. What was he supposed to do with a flea that wasn’t acting like a flea?

But the Yato god didn’t offer an answer in his shared glance with the ex-bartender. He just shrugged. Some god he was.

Yukine seemed to make his decision, releasing Izaya and shoving him backwards. Izaya let himself be pushed, but caught himself easily now that he wasn’t so severely injured. He lowered his gaze from Yukine, looking bitter. “Look,” said the Shinki, while the other two of the group shared their awkward silence. “Of course I wanna restart. Of course I’m happy for some of the stuff we have back. I just—I dunno, I sorta thought you might have had regrets after everything? Or was it that you were still as selfish as you claim?”

“I never said I learned my lesson,” said Izaya, looking at him again. He crossed his arms over his chest and straightened, his expression taking on that dead-eyed gaze that he’d worn so often after the experience of having his ties severed. “And I told you specifically that I was still out for my self-interest.”

“You’ve done stuff contrary to that, dumbass. You can’t fool me. Why the hell did you help out the others? What about the fact you had fully expected to die on your mission? Was that really so selfish? Why did you ask to be let go, in the tower?

Izaya shrugged. “Convenience and logic, in that order.”

“Why else would you be absolved of your sins?”

“Oh, you took that seriously—?”

“You helped people! You saved people’s lives! Did that mean nothing?”

“Well…”

Shizuo scratched at the back of his head. Was this kid talking about the same Izaya he knew? Because that was a little… uncharacteristic.

Izaya. Stop letting such fickle things control you! If you can be as observant as you were but still not see stuff when it’s right in front of you, I’ve underestimated you.”

His eyebrows arched. “Hah?”

“You can’t deny everything you’ve done, and everything you’ve been through. Are you really gonna complete your own cycle after preaching the contrary? Are you really gonna take on the same role you played before? You recognized your flaws and embraced some of them, fixed others. I don’t know everything that happened in between my leave and my return, but you were not the same Izaya from the beginning! From my perspective, the change was obvious, and now here you are back at square one? Did it mean nothing? I dunno how deep it all goes, but you can’t just go and figure out what connections mean to you in their absence… only to go and mess it up again the moment you have the chance! If this is the way you wanna go, you are still a coward. And if that’s the case, then—then you’re better off alone after all.”

Yukine glowered at him, the quiet filled with static. Izaya was silent.

It was Yato who broke it: “Hey, look,” he said. “Izaya, well, uh… you be careful what you say to my Shinki here. Because after all, he’s more than meets the eye – he’s a Blessed Regalia now, and that’s special class dead kid, so—”

Both Yukine and Izaya turned to Yato in surprise. “You remember?” they asked in unison.

Yato blinked, standing rigid. “I, um… Duh. Of course I remember. You think I forget stuff like that?” His wide eyes widened further as Yukine grasped him by the shoulders. “Eh—?”

You do? Oh, Yato, how much?” He shook the god as he made his demanding inquiries, eyes wide. “Why didn’t you say so right away? You jackass, you scared me—Yato, I need to tell you about everything after—”

“C-calm down, Yukine!” Yato cried, taking his Shinki’s hands and trying to hand them back to him. “What are you going on about?”

“What do you mean, what am I…”

“Do you doubt me so much?” Yato looked to Izaya and Shizuo, the former of which was looking at him with feverish attentiveness that Yato decided was a bit off-putting. “Er… see, what Yukine’s talking about, well, a Blessed Regalia is super special because it’s when a Shinki – that’s what he is, a Shinki – risks their very name for their master! So here’s what happened.” He began talking with his hands, obviously quite excited and proud of the whole thing. “Surely you’ve heard of Bishamonten, one of the seven gods of fortune! Well—we were facing off with her, and—”

“You don’t remember,” said Yukine, his voice very small.

“Wh-what?”

Izaya sighed. “Time gap. Looks like you were supposed to do that anyway. Remember the footage?”

“For the record, we totally won,” said Yato, weakly defensive.

“Uh, that’s impressive,” offered Shizuo, rubbing at the back of his head. “But we’re missing something. Does this flea bastard need a knock over the head? Because that’s what it sounds like.”

“Oh, you’d always come to that conclusion,” scoffed said flea, but his banter was half-hearted.

Yukine looked to the informant with pained eyes. “Izaya… please.”

Izaya looked at him with an empty gaze. Yukine returning the same plea… really. As if he needed that. Even trying to play the same game as before, Izaya knew well enough that it wouldn’t hold the same meaning to him anymore. It wouldn’t last long; it couldn’t last at all. As foolish as he was, he knew the spirit was right, and he was wrong. Dabbling in old bonds, nasty or not, was the wrong way to move forward. And after all, they still needed to get out of this mess. Maybe Izaya was just the smallest bit afraid of what may happen if he actually let himself care about the ties that bound him. But where else was there to go but forward? Maybe he should continue on as he had, being joyous over every result and reaction he was confronted with – positive or negative. It didn’t mean he had to create the negative for himself to thrive in, but—ah… Not caring at all didn’t seem so simple anymore. Why did this hurt? Well. He shouldn’t be afraid of that. After all, he’d already vowed to himself not to be the laughing coward anymore… Yet looking at the present situation, what should he think of himself? Pathetic.

Soberly, he nodded at Yukine. “Sorry, Shizuo,” he said, turning to his old rival, “but for now we’ll have to forego the fun and games.”

Shizuo furrowed his brow deeply, practically squinting at the informant. Fun and games? As if. Suspicion ran deep – Izaya couldn’t be serious.

Then, Did he just say ‘sorry’?

“As painful as it may be, you and I will need to cooperate.” Izaya offered a mirthless smirk to the increasingly confused blond he was addressing. “I can only hope you can bear it. And, Yato.” Drily, Izaya smiled at the god. The god straightened, unsure of what to expect. “Maybe by the end of this you and I can be friends. Despite my tone of voice, I’m not being sarcastic. I just naturally sound sort of snarky.” He looked at Yukine again. “Well, I’d say we all head into the house there and discuss our options.” Smiling a lopsided, dead smile, he raised his index finger and twirled it in the mockery of celebration as he started heading for the door. “Shall we?”

Yukine followed, mouth upturning despite himself. There was the Izaya he could rely on.

Yato and Shizuo, on the other hand, were perplexed. “Something’s really wrong,” said Shizuo. He looked to the god. “I don’t think I want to kill him.”

Yato put a hand on his shoulder. “Killing people is bad for you, anyway. Trust me.”


“Rika, what happened?”

The ten-year-old sighed heavily at the sound of Hanyuu’s voice. As welcome as it was to hear her presence again, the circumstances were certainly less than ideal.

“I-I don’t know what happened when we tried to go into the tower,” said the goddess, while Rika looked around at her setting (a factory) and her new teammates: Suzuya, Twelve, and… Kuroha. Nice. “Did it reset immediately? What did we do wrong? Oh, this isn’t good, not good at all… Uu…” Rika sensed a characteristic wail coming on, and tuned instead into the conversation starting up around her.

“An interesting starting point,” commented Twelve, touching his chin as he looked around and Suzuya scuffed at the grey circle they stood upon with his slipper.

“Now what?” said Suzuya.

“It’s a death game,” said Kuroha, as if it were obvious.

“Wow,” said Twelve, putting a hand on his hip. “Good thing you’re on our team, huh? Look at that, we have a demon on our side.”

“Do you like killing things?” inquired Suzuya with his wide-eyed gaze, and Twelve stifled his laughter.

“Yes, particularly if they’re suffering first,” he answered lowly, looming over the white-haired CCG officer. “It’s best if there’s one left living to feel the torment of knowing everyone they love is being slaughtered in front of them… Their screams are better than even the cries of the dying.”

Suzuya was unfazed. “Cool.”

Kuroha rolled his luminescent eyes, unimpressed but nevertheless backing off for now. “Interesting. Well, you’d best get your weapons, then. I don’t need anything. We have an interesting case on our hands.” He looked to Rika, and smiled his bone-chilling smile.

“Is it that you recognize me, Serpent?” asked Rika in cool tones, and Twelve looked over at her, perhaps surprised by her seriousness.

“I only need to recognize your power, Princess.”

“Oh, dear,” whimpered Hanyuu.

“That does not answer my question,” said Rika, and the snake’s expression soured.

“I take it this isn’t our first time.”

Rika stared back, unwavering.

“I thought not.”

“So… what makes you think this is a death game?” said Twelve as he examined his grenade belt.

“Prob’ly the weapons,” answered Suzuya, picking up his scythe and stroking the blade lightly, his eyes remaining blank. “Why else would we have weapons?”

“Do we gotta kill people?” asked the terrorist.

“Why not?”

“Well, I dunno, I sort of don’t want to?”

Kuroha offered a cruel chuckle, while Rika glanced over at him and grabbed her chef’s knife from the broken conveyor belt. “Perhaps it isn’t necessary,” she suggested, tilting the knife and looking tiredly into her reflected eyes. “What do you think, Twelve?”

“I think we deserve more explanation.” He spread his arms, making the Double Open Heart writing on his shirt easy to read if you were to look. “How did we even get here? I don’t appreciate this at all. I don’t imagine any of you do either. And are we all from different realities or something? Sorry, but I thought demons only came in the form of everyday sins. And androids, they’re only supposed to be in sci-fi stuff. Sorry, I’m slamming you right now, Kuroha-san, but that totally wasn’t explained properly. This is already unbelievable – I was just minding my own business being a terrorist in Tokyo, you know?”

“A terrorist?” repeated Suzuya, blinking.

Twelve ignored the inquiry. “And now suddenly I’m here, no recollection of getting here or anything? At the very least, they could give us some rules or something, or else the ones running this show had better expect some of us not to do what they want.” He paused. “Unless they wanted it to be open-ended.” He shrugged. “Like, hey. Still. If they expect us to go all ‘battle royal,’ then well—really? We’re suddenly in this strange situation, and there’s probably nothing we can do to escape, and we’re supposed to fight each other like dogs? Being thrown in a cage and told to fight doesn’t really make me wanna kill people. It makes me wanna spite the leaders more than anything.”

“I…” Suzuya had taken on a dark demeanor, his grip on the shaft of his scythe tightened.

“And on that note,” said the terrorist, raising his index finger and looking at Rika, “you know what else I think?”

Rika’s visage had softened. Twelve had inadvertently reminded her that she mustn’t lose hope, not yet – because for a reset, this surely was an odd one. Wasn’t it true that the other seven seemed to express memories of the previous route? And what’s more, this wasn’t the female game she was beginning in, and there was a handful of other differences to account for. Maybe they weren’t starting back from square one after all. “What else is it, nii?” she asked, beginning to take on her childish persona.

I think we should all become acquainted and get to know each other.”

“Twelve,” said Kuroha with a frown, his arms crossed over his chest, “you act the fool. For Princess, too, I’d have thought you would come to the understanding earlier that I will be determining whether this group makes its way killing or not.”

Twelve stared at him, brown eyes dark. “Oh, I see,” he said mildly. “That’s how they do it – the ones running this game. They make sure they have some players that will play right into their hands, doing exactly as they want. I get it now. Thank you for clarifying.”

Kuroha’s eyes narrowed.

Suzuya was staring at Twelve, no longer exuding darkness.

“So, anyway,” said the terrorist, “I’m Twelve, and I like bombs. What about you guys?”

“I am Rika Furude, that is so,” said the ten-year-old, rocking on the balls of her feet. She quite liked having Twelve on her team. “And I like spicy food!”

“Um, Juuzou Suzuya,” said the CCG officer, picking at the threads of his lip. “I like… uhm… sweets.”

Everyone looked at the demon expectantly, and Kuroha eventually sighed. “Actually, Saeru is an adequate title.”

“And he likes killing people,” said Suzuya, matter-of-fact. Saeru gave him a look, and the albino merely shrugged. “I figured you wouldn’t give something you like.”

“I wonder, maybe he does have a favorite food,” commented Twelve.

“Eyeballs,” said the albino.

“Or souls,” pointed out the terrorist.

Suzuya tapped at his lower lip, then conceded his point.

Saeru pinched at the bridge of his nose. “I don’t need sustenance.” He paused. Then, thoughtful: “Chocolate is admittedly pleasant.”

“Haaah?” Suzuya was excited by this.

Rika giggled while Hanyuu shuddered, alarmed by how friendly Twelve and Suzuya were with Saeru already. Well, not really friendly, but for someone like Saeru… “What is it that we should do first, then?” asked Rika, cheerful.

“We should brainstorm, the four of us,” said Twelve.

“I think we should, uh…” Suzuya paused. He had been about to say starting the hunt was a good idea, but he didn’t much believe he wanted to do that, now that Twelve had put this game into that perspective. It was too familiar, the kind he didn’t like. But if you didn’t try to kill people, what did you do?

“You think this will be democratic?” said the demon with disdain. “I have an intention, and I will follow it through. We will head out now, and move quickly. There’s something I need to find…” Slowly, he smiled, but despite the chill of the room, nobody seemed really affected by his demonic presence.

“I mean, alright,” shrugged Suzuya.

“Wait a sec, are you the leader now?” asked Twelve skeptically.

“Indeed,” said Rika brightly. “How can you be so sure that we will follow your orders?”

Saeru scowled. “I have no reason to kill any of you if you do as I say.”

“Right, right, an ‘us and them’ sort of thing,” said Twelve.

“Huh?” Suzuya cocked his head to the side.

“If we are on his side, we are safe,” said Rika. “But if we are not on his side, suddenly we are against him. We cannot take a neutral stance.”

“Oh, yeah, makes sense.” The albino scratched at the back of his head.

“What is it that you need to find?” asked Rika suspiciously.

“It is not of your concern until we find it,” the demon frowned.

“How can we trust you, huh?” asked Twelve. “How do we know you’re telling the truth when you say you won’t hurt us when we do listen? How do we know you’re honest?”

“You’re asking the wrong questions, brat,” answered the serpent, turning toward the door. “In this world, and in all others, there are only ‘things that sound like truths’ and ‘things that sound like lies.’”

Rika straightened. Hanyuu brought her hands to her chest, brow furrowed. “What?” asked the goddess, just as startled as Rika. How odd. That wasn’t a line that belonged to Saeru. Was it?

“An interesting idea, Saeru-san,” said Twelve, “but that makes you sound like a liar, you know?”

Waving him off, the possessed began walking towards the door. Rika, Twelve, and Suzuya all exchanged glances. Twelve shrugged and followed after their self-proclaimed leader, and the others followed after the terrorist. Rika clutched the hilt of her knife, apprehension eating at her. This was going to be far different a route than she was used to.


Akise appeared in darkness. Well—mostly darkness. Very quickly, his eyes picked up on the faint glow of a young figure. He met jaded red eyes as they took on a luminescence he could not imitate as a human. He wasn’t sure what she thought of him, but he could tell she was smiling. Then, there was the light of a phone cutting through the dark, and even more sharp, the shine of its flashlight.

“Oh,” said a male to Akise’s side, and then there was a “My, my,” from the faintly glowing one. Flickering to life, the fluorescents overhead revealed Akise’s three group members: Nora, Celty Sturluson, and Shinichi Izumi. Seemed Nora had turned on the lights herself, without having to move. Looking around at her groupmates, she brought the sleeve of her kimono to her mouth.

All through this, Akise only observed with his hands in his pockets. “Well,” he said, successfully breaking the silence with his smooth and friendly tones, “I’m sure it will be a pleasure to work with all of you. I’m Aru, Aru Akise. I plan to be a detective someday. What about all of you?”

Shinichi spoke next, though he was staring distractedly at his right hand. “Shinichi Izumi,” he said. “I’m just a high school student… I guess.” Giving up on his hand preoccupation for now, he ran it through his slicked-back brown hair, eyes distant. “That doesn’t seem an accurate category for me, but I can’t think of any other title.” Polite and friendly, he offered a mildly sheepish laugh. “I haven’t thought much about the future lately.”

[I’m Celty Sturluson, and I am a transporter.] wrote Celty.

“I have many names,” said Nora in that smooth, sweet way of hers. “You can pick any one you like.” Rolling up her sleeves, she revealed a multitude of titles for herself, marked in red upon her flesh. “Or, if you prefer, you can just call me Nora.”

“That’s why you’re called stray,” remarked Akise thoughtfully, and Nora smiled thinly at him.

“Also,” she said, “being a spirit, I am meant to be used as a weapon, and if named by another, I can be wielded as the weapon that best suits them.” She eyed Celty, red eyes flickering. “If I were to be wielded by any one of you, I do believe that Celty would be most ideal, seeing as she’s a supernatural being.”

Celty stiffened, looking unsure how to respond to such an offer. [It’s really fine!] she typed out frantically. [I don’t need a new weapon, I have my shadows.] Tap-tap-tap. [Are we required to fight in this game?] Tap-tap-tap. [Is that the kind of game this is?] Tap-tap-tap. [I don’t think they specified…]

“Ah,” said Nora thoughtfully, tilting her head. She looked mildly disappointed. “Well, I just came to assume that was the goal of this game… to be the last one standing.”

“Isn’t that just the point of living?” asked Shinichi. He paused, thinking about his words. “…That doesn’t sound very good, actually.”

[Living is more than surviving.] typed Celty. [That’s what I think, anyway.]

“I… well.” Shinichi’s words escaped him, and he rubbed at the back of his neck.

“You seem interesting,” Nora offered to Shinichi, and giggled.

He tried again. “I don’t think anyone should kill unnecessarily, anyway. But it isn’t ‘wrong,’ either. All anyone wants is to live.”

“All the more reason for us not to kill unnecessarily,” said Akise with his calm smile. “I’m under the impression that this game won’t last very long.” He paused. “Why don’t we come up with ideas on what to do?”

“Well…” Shinichi still hadn’t removed his hand from the back of his neck, visage blank. “I don’t know that I can presume how long this will last, but this is definitely… very… wrong. The whole thing is questionable, from bringing supernatural and divine beings into this… to the fact that it was so sudden. But also… there are little things that I’m sure must be off with everyone. For me…” He brought his hand before him, looking at his palm quizzically. “It’s hard to explain, but I’m certainly missing something… or someone, really. It would be hard for you to understand out of context, but it doesn’t make much sense—and I’m sure others in this game are experiencing other oddities.” He looked at the others in that detached way. “Do any of you have anything strange going on, besides being here?”

Nora tilted her head at him mildly, and Celty brought a hand to where her chin would be, if she had one.

“It may be hard for everyone to pinpoint just yet,” said Akise to Shinichi. “But I’m sure you’re right. It just may be that it won’t be so obvious for everyone as you missing your parasitic friend.”

Shinichi’s vacant eyes flickered in surprise. “You…?” He looked very confused, and Akise couldn’t help but laugh at the situation.

“Only more proof something’s wrong. I say we convene with some other groups – ally with whoever we find. What do you think?”

[I agree.] typed Celty. [But first, at our introduction, didn’t it seem odd?] … [Didn’t it seem as though some people knew what the game was, already?] … [In fact, weren’t you one who had said something so strange?]

“Something about being a valid player, right,” said Shinichi thoughtfully.

“The one with the current title Yukine,” said Nora, her voice rather quiet. “He… seemed to know something.”

[And someone I know, Izaya Orihara.] … [He just seemed a bit off.] … [I don’t know whether it’s relevant, but there was also a look-alike of him that I didn’t know…] Pause. […And a double of the android, too. Do you think that means anything?]

“That did seem pretty weird,” remarked Shinichi.

“A good thought,” said Akise, “but in this case, not relevant. Roppi just happens to be from another reality, and is based off of Izaya. As for Kuroha and Konoha, the androids – that’s something to look into. The demon said himself that it was an unnatural occurrence.”

“You sure know a lot, Akise,” said Nora smoothly, bringing a sleeve to her mouth and narrowing her eyes. “It’s rather suspicious, wouldn’t you say? How is it that we can know to trust you not to be misleading?”

“I am pretty suspicious, aren’t I?” he agreed, rose eyes glimmering in humor as he touched his chin. “But for myself, and the others who appeared to recognize this game… I don’t imagine any of us would lead anyone in the wrong direction – after all, we’ve finished this game before.”

“Finished it?” asked Shinichi blankly.

[Then why are we playing it now?] Celty looked quite tense.

“Well, we’re gonna figure it out so we can end this as quickly as possible,” he smiled. “What are our suggestions, then?”

“I agree that we should find more groups and ally them,” said Shinichi immediately.

[…I also think that’s the best course of action.]

“I don’t much like this,” said Nora, her eyes averted and overcast with unease, or discontent. “I’d like to find the god Yato. That is my request.”

“We’ll see about that,” said Akise with a lopsided smile. “I think we should start by trying to find the other groups.” His mouth spread in his sly humor. “Who knows where the other groups are, or what groups everyone is in?”

Celty tilted her helmet quizzically, unsure whether she was to trust that feigned ignorance. Nora frowned slightly.

“Say,” said Shinichi, going over to one of the boxes and lifting a navy-blue notebook. “This has a label beside it with your name, Akise. Is this…?”

“Oh, good,” Akise said lightly, gladly accepting it from the partial-parasite. “That will be helpful. Why don’t we go check out our surroundings, then?”

Celty and Shinichi looked at one another (or so it seemed – Celty was really only turning her helmet to him, but hey), and Nora looked at the ground beneath her wooden sandals. They all agreed with him – why argue with that logic?

Chapter 118: Countdown

Chapter Text

“We did it,” said Yukiteru as soon as he felt the ground shift and solidify beneath him. He spun around on their orange starting point, happily spreading his arms as he laughed joyously. “We did it!” he cried. “We did it!”

“I don’t get it,” said Minene, bringing a hand to her hip.

A-ya brought his arms around himself, wishing he wouldn’t tremble so. What sort of curse was this? And Yukiteru was happy? He didn’t understand.

C-ta, who had spotted weapons placed on the ledge of the fountain beside them, pulled himself from their examination and looked to his childhood friend, tilting his head and inevitably noticing his trembling. “Ah, A-ya… Don’t worry.” Smiling warmly, he stroked at A-ya’s back in a comforting gesture. “I’ll protect you.”

Why did it only make him feel worse?

A-ya began to sink, deep into himself where the world melted away and he wouldn’t have to look at anything. He was overwhelmed, and didn’t know what to do. He had finally come to a conclusion within himself that he wanted to see it through to the end of the dream, and here he was asleep again, with C-ta here, and Yukiteru here, and…

No, this was worse, because…

He was jolted from himself by Yukiteru grabbing him by the shoulders and giving him a small shake, his blues eyes wide and shining. C-ta was equally startled, blinking a few times and removing his hand from A-ya’s back.

“A-ya!” cried Yukki, expression alight. “We made it! Isn’t this exactly what you wanted?”

A-ya stared at him, tired eyes round with surprise and uncertainty. He opened his mouth, then closed it. He didn’t know how to answer that.

C-ta furrowed his brow, peering at Yukki with suspicious burning in his green eyes.

“Oi,” Minene began to protest, but Yukki only continued:

“Look, we have all the chance in the world to change the outcome, now!” He released A-ya, spreading his hands apart for emphasis. “We can save people! We don’t have—everyone back, but still! Isn’t this great, oh, isn’t it wonderful?”

“I… I didn’t really want to remember,” A-ya said softly. That was right – that was what made this worse than being asleep again, because this was only reenacting a living nightmare. He didn’t want to see it and know the outcome. He either wanted to move forward or—or return to ignorance.

C-ta’s laughter chimed in, friendly with a subtle note of warning. Putting a hand on A-ya’s shoulder, he stepped towards Yukiteru while gently pushing A-ya backwards. “I’m sorry, what are you talking about, exactly?”

Yukiteru’s lightness dropped. “I’m trying to talk to A-ya,” he spoke lowly.

“Alright, alright,” said Minene, approaching in her disgruntled air. “Hold it, I dunno what’s going on either, but let’s talk about it. What is happening, First?”

“Call me Yukki, Minene,” said Yukiteru flatly. “It’s easier.”

“I’d like to know what you seem to know about A-ya that I don’t,” said C-ta with a placid smile. “I’m sorry… ah… Yukki-kun, but I don’t know how you could possibly know him, and it seems obvious that you’re making him uncomfortable, isn’t that right A-ya?”

“I’m just uncomfortable,” said A-ya.

“See?” said C-ta. “You’re making him uncomfortable.”

Yukiteru was alarmingly unsettled by C-ta’s way of acting. Who would think it would make him feel so… so…?

Maybe it was because it reminded him of Yuno.

“I don’t wanna hear that kind of crap right now,” he said to C-ta.

“Excuse me?” said C-ta.

“Um,” said A-ya.

Minene gave a laugh. “When’d you start acting so bold, Yukki?”

“Maybe if you let us have a conversation, we’d give an explanation,” said Yukki.

“I’d like an explanation now,” said C-ta. “A-ya is fragile, I don’t want you—”

“He is not fragile, and I don’t wanna hear it—”

Excuse me, who do you think you are?” Finally, C-ta’s friendly face broke into a frown. “You don’t know A-ya like I do.”

“You’re right!” said A-ya. “You’re right. He’s right.”

C-ta and Yukiteru both looked at him. Yukiteru looked flabbergasted.

“C-ta, you knew me when I was a kid. That’s great.” His voice was strained. “But Yukiteru knows a little bit more about the current situation. You don’t know what he knows. And he doesn’t know what you know. Compromise.”

“But,” began C-ta, and Yukiteru cut him off:

Thank you.” Still, he couldn’t help but notice the mania creeping into A-ya’s tone.

“I better damn well get an explanation after all this.” Minene had already seated herself on the fountain’s ledge, examining her grenades. “Just saying. Stop bickering before we killed, ‘kay?”

“I just, I just… I—just…” Bringing a hand to his mouth, A-ya took a deep breath. C-ta reached out – undoubtedly to comfort – but A-ya took a step back from both him and Yukki. “C-ta… I wanna… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry… I…” He shook his head, keeping his palm pressed to his mouth, trying to remain calm and yet beginning to slip. The shock was beginning to wear off, and now he felt the tremor of reality settling in.

Concern was etched into C-ta’s features. “Why are you…?”

“A-ya, it’s okay,” said Yukki gently, “that thing never happened now, see? Remember…? The game is fake.” He glanced at C-ta, who looked lost. “That’s why we should be glad… not because we’re starting all over, but because we have the tools to make sure we’re not starting over. We can make sure to solve the riddle and make our own ending, okay?”

“I didn’t want to remember,” said A-ya again, soft.

C-ta’s eyes clouded as he realized that he really didn’t understand what was going on with A-ya – worse, he didn’t know, and this stranger did? What kind of worthless, detestable—helpless—friend would he have to be not to know what was troubling him? The brunette began to mentally float away, unable to comprehend such thoughts.

“I thought I wouldn’t have to recall everything.” A-ya stared at Yukiteru, dark. “I’d rather die than remember.”

“Oh, A-ya, you don’t mean that,” said Yukiteru gently. “You don’t need to be so hard on yourself.  Yeah, we’ve seen stuff that’s pretty rough, but it’s knowing those scenes that can help us prevent them from happening again, see? It’s going to be okay, A-ya.” He smiled brightly. “We have a future!”

A-ya averted his eyes. Slowly, he gathered his words. “I’m… still scared of the future.”

Yukiteru stepped forward and grabbed A-ya by the wrist, startling him. “It’s fine. We’re still at one another’s sides,” he said. “And look, you even have back what you were wishing for.” He gave a slight nod in C-ta’s direction, then gave A-ya’s arm a squeeze before releasing him. “Let’s meet tomorrow with a smile, okay? We can make whatever fate we want.”

His red eyes met with Yukki’s again. Then, slowly, he nodded. “That’s… right.” He took a deep breath. “This game is fake.”

“Okay, are we all resolved now?” asked Minene, sounding annoyed.

A-ya laughed breathily. “I think we broke C-ta.”

Yukiteru peered over at C-ta, whose eyes were glazed over. The brunette smiled. “Ah? I’m not broken.”

“Uh…”

“He doesn’t matter,” said the terrorist. “Skip the wellness check and get to the point.”

“Minene,” frowned Yukki, but the terrorist returned with a pointed look:

“Oi, I want an explanation, and apparently you know more about this than I do, so I expect something!”

A-ya covered his mouth, his eyes taking on their old subtle glimmer, hidden from all but those who looked hard enough. “Oh, no,” he said with some sarcasm. “If C-ta’s so distracted, what will I do with myself? I only didn’t want to hurt him.”

“Hah?” C-ta blinked a few times, jade eyes widening. “A-ya, don’t say things like that! I’m right here, always!”

“He’s back,” said A-ya with a refined smirk.

Yukiteru laughed lightly while C-ta rubbed at the back his head, bemused at what the joke was. “Great,” said Minene, rolling her single eye. “We’ve got a nutjob, don’t we?”

“You don’t mean me, do you?” asked C-ta, sounding mildly offended.

“I might.”

“Alright, alright,” said Yukki, holding up his hands. “None of that. Let’s try to start off on the right foot, here, okay?” He had their attention, and now that he wasn’t addressing A-ya specifically, C-ta was friendly and casual as he ever was. Not that he’d forget the exchange between those two anytime soon. “Well, Muse didn’t do much explaining, so, uh…” He paused, thinking. “We’re… hm. We’re not in a battle royal, Minene.”

“Then why the hell are there weapons?” she asked skeptically. “This is like, basic battle royal structure here – they provided us with our resources, for fuck’s sake – almost makes it too easy.” She scoffed.

“It’s more like we’re being held hostage in a very big cage,” Yukiteru answered brightly. “And what the masters hope for is for us to start killing each other off, because that would be funny to them.”

“Oh. Sounds like what ‘god’ did to the human race.”

“Minene, that’s a bit cynical,” he chided.

“Well, why did they select us, anyhow?” inquired C-ta, tilting his head slightly. “To what purpose do we serve, and why are we the interesting ones?”

“Also, why do you know about this?” demanded Minene. “And don’t you dare tell me it’s because it was in your Future Diary, because mine didn’t tell me shit about how to get out of this mess.” She huffed.

“I think I’ll let A-ya do some of the explaining here,” he said, gesturing to the red-eyed one, who looked alarmed at the shift of attention. “He’s always been better at the game-explaining thing anyway.”

“Always?” C-ta repeated blankly. The implication that A-ya knew this ‘Yukiteru’ person was something he still couldn’t wrap his head around. When? How? And why didn’t C-ta know about it?

A-ya coughed. “Um…” He allowed the silence to fall, gathering his thoughts. “We have just been placed in a game without rules and without structure. One that relies on what we think its requirements are in order to function as a game. That is, if we think it’s a game, we’re likely to play it how we think it’s supposed to be played – or how it isn’t meant to be, depending on your motive. But there is no working around the game, and there is no winning it either – because there is no game. We’re just actors on a stage, and the masters, our directors, have a hold of our puppets’ strings. But the thought here is that if we achieve self-awareness, we can better combat the guiding hands of the masters running the show.

“Now—what if I told you that this play had a title already? It has a script, and parts to play… a plot, a direction; beginning, middle, and end. And what if I told you that that it’s already been performed, over and over again, all in an effort to reach the conclusion? Permit the thought that perhaps a handful of characters reached the final act. But what are they to do when they find that the antagonist of their story is the director themselves? Even worse, the director doesn’t want to see the ending. Imagine these characters fighting to write the ending for themselves. At long last, they see the curtain falling, but they are met with only darkness and, when the curtain opens again, there is no applause or standing ovation. Instead, the curtain opens, and they realize it is the opening act—they’ve been projected back to the beginning of everything with all the memories of the story they’ve already acted out. They, and only they, can recall how close they’d come to ending the show.”

A-ya paused. Then, his lips broke into a thin smile. “Is that a rumor that either of you would believe?”

“Oh, hell,” said Minene, scratching the back of her head. “Man, we’re fucked, aren’t we? Come on, I don’t wanna be one of the ones in the dark, here! Agh…”

“Mm,” said C-ta, touching his cheek and gazing at A-ya with vague concern. “A-ya is always a great story-teller. If that is the situation…” Lightly, perhaps nervously, he laughed. “Well, I don’t know how to feel about so big a situation. It sounds… sort of scary, doesn’t it? Ah, A-ya…”

“But if we all cooperate, we can make an ending for sure this time,” said Yukiteru, blue eyes shining. “We have the advantage now, and we’re gonna make sure to spread it before any antagonists kick into action!”

“Don’t get too optimistic,” grumbled Minene, while C-ta chuckled.

A-ya covered his mouth again, thoughtful. It felt… warm, just a little bit: to hear C-ta’s light laughter again. Still, it was a warmth that hurt. He thought of the tale he’d just spun of reality, and recalled again just how much he had longed for the mundane everyday he had once despised – to be able to tell C-ta the stories he’d learned, to tell B-ko, even D-ne. That was right, the stories he’d gathered… Deus ex Machina, and the tale of the Clearing Eyes Snake…

Right, what had he asked of Saeru, back then? ‘When we reset,’ he’d said to the demon, ‘I want you to find me, and I want you to tell me that story again. Every time, so that there will eventually come a loop where I don’t forget it. Okay? Because legends never die – you’ll exist forever, no matter what happens.

It was really rather strange… even with such an obviously corrupt bond, A-ya missed it. Gazing at C-ta as he and Minene talked with Yukiteru about options on how to get out of this mess, the red-eyed one wondered whether this was something like how Izaya had felt, when his ties were severed. Anyone who had known A-ya not of the eight, and not of his world… they wouldn’t know who he was. Twelve and Suzuya would have no recognition. Saeru would not remember their contract. Akira wouldn’t know he had killed her. Konoha wouldn’t remember his fear nor his bravery against the demon inhabiting A-ya; Yato would not remember his own self-sacrifice for his sake; Shinichi would not remember trying to protect him; and Roppi wouldn’t recall his final words, spoken so boldly in front of the dark-clad antihero. Even with C-ta, A-ya felt like he had moved beyond him – like he knew too much now, and their connection had frayed away on A-ya’s end alone.

Aa, he thought, though we always had that miscommunication, anyway. ‘Like a missed call,’ I said to Yukiteru… He closed his eyes. Surely it was a bit different from Izaya – at least A-ya had the rest of the eight, plus possibly Akise. But still…

“There are certain things that we should take note of, I think,” A-ya stepped back into the conversation, having composed himself and regained his characteristic monotone manner of speaking.

“Yeah?” asked Minene. She still seemed skeptical of him, maybe because she didn’t know him yet and her first impression was probably not too promising.

“Which things?” said Yukki.

“The differences,” said A-ya. “We figure out what’s wrong with this game, and either find our answers there or use them to our advantage.”

“Oh!” Yukiteru brightened. “Like how Muse revealed themselves so early, or how there were no rules stated? And—the lineup is pretty different, too…”

“It’s a vast contrast to the original,” A-ya agreed. “And also, we who made it remember the end – that’s a big marker of something strange.”

“Akise’s a player this time,” added Yukki.

“And Muse had a bandage around their arm, where that little girl had grabbed them.”

“Oh yeah…”

Minene thinned her lips into a frown. This was incredibly frustrating for her. C-ta was stuck, partially wanting to praise A-ya for being as keen as he usually was… but also feeling a horrid sensation in his chest for not knowing what he was talking about with this Yukiteru person. He tried not to read into it too much, and tried not to think about how he felt about it… but he very much was not in a pleasant state.

“And also,” said A-ya, brow furrowed, “there were only twenty-three players. There were supposed to be twenty-four.”

“Oh, really?” Yukiteru tugged at the rim of his hat – oh, it was rather nice to have the hat back. He tried to recall everyone that had stood on the introductory podiums. “Uhm… what if it was the parasite that made the twenty-fourth? Migi?”

“But Migi introduced himself the first time.”

“He could be sleeping,” he suggested, but then thought about it. “Hm, but you’re right. I feel like the masters would make sure he was awake for intros. Even though everything’s sort of off anyway…”

“Well, under the assumption that Migi isn’t involved in-game this time, then who makes the twenty-fourth player? Or is there a group with only three players?”

“That is weird,” agreed Yukki.

A-ya covered his mouth, thoughtful. “I think… that our starting point… should be finding Akise. We still don’t know what went on with him in the tower, and after falling into the pit, we didn’t see him again until he showed up with that mystery girl.”

Yukki nodded. “The mystery girl that Muse seemed afraid of,” he added.

“Akise’s in on this, then,” said Minene. “Ugh, I’m so frustrated—at least that crazy bitch isn’t around. Sorta weird, really.”

Yukiteru skimmed past Minene’s words, trying not to be affected by the mention of ‘that crazy bitch.’ “Alright, so we need to find Akise, but how do we know what group he’s in?”

“Good point…” A-ya’s lips thinned. “Perhaps the best thing is to start looking for other groups. Even finding one of the others would be helpful.”

“Alliances!” Yukiteru chirped. He turned to Minene and C-ta. “So, alliances seem to be the best way to go. If we’re making a stand against the game masters for putting us in this mess, what better way to do it than by combining forces with everyone we can find?”

C-ta began to wonder why he found it so detestable – the thought that A-ya might have made friends. “I trust A-ya,” he said his mild friendliness hiding his inner conflict effectively. “And… ah, even the thought of a ‘battle royal’ is scary, so I think making alliances is much better.”

Minene rolled her single eye. “Fine. I guess it’ll do, but understand that if someone tries to kill us, I’m gonna blow ‘em to shit.”

“Thanks, Minene,” Yukiteru said brightly. “I can count on you.”

She gave him a confused look. “Right. Well, why don’t we start with the bunch that are comin’ from the street, over there?”

“Huh?”

C-ta tilted his head while A-ya and Yukiteru turned around to see, having been facing the opposite direction. There was a chill to the air, a certain emanated darkness.

Oh. It was Saeru’s group.

“Um, about that,” began Yukki, but the demon was faster than him, cutting him short by appearing before them in a blur of motion. Yukiteru could see Twelve, Suzuya, and Rika lagging behind, but Saeru

“Hello there,” sneered the demon, luminescent yellow eyes glimmering cruelly.

Despite the talk of alliance, C-ta had stiffened, sensing danger. Minene had a grenade in hand, on guard.

A-ya had frozen. He was so terrified he felt sick, even though he’d just been longing for their bond not that long ago—well that was confusing, but—

“Hi there!” Yukiteru greeted the serpent with a strained smile. “Care to join an alliance?”

Saeru ignored him, his eyes set on A-ya. A-ya was assuring himself that there was no way that Saeru recognized him while also struggling with the possibility that maybe the demon would try to kill him—the fear of his own mortality mingling with the pain of being forgotten and feeding the electricity of his conflicting emotions—

“Nice to meet you,” the demon said lowly, his mouth still curled into a subtle, cold smirk. It was the same voice that once lulled his target into a sense of security for his sins. The same voice, dark and soothing and hollow. “Won’t you answer me? Hah… Are you frightened?”

A-ya couldn’t bring himself to speak. Only stare.

Saeru seemed amused. “I have an inquiry, if you’ll hear it.”

A-ya didn’t understand. What sort of situation was this? He could hear his heart in his ears.

“A-ya… Have you yet heard the story of the Clearing Eyes Snake?”


“What the fuck.”

Seidou breathed these words, sitting on the red circle at the rooftop marking Group 2’s starting place.

What is your problem?” asked Roppi skeptically, looking down on Seidou with a bitter gaze, his sleeve held to his mouth.

Seidou just stared at Roppi with round eyes and lips parted, teeth clenched.

This didn’t seem to answer Roppi’s question. “Right,” he said.

“Hi everybody,” said Shintaro, eyes flitting over everyone – Seidou, Roppi, Konoha – and laughing nervously. “I’m Shintaro Kisaragi, nice to meet you, ahaha…”

“Oh, I am Konoha,” said the android. “Nice to meet you, Shintaro.”

“We already know each other,” said the NEET weakly.

“Oh, yeah.”

Roppi rolled his eyes. “Call me Roppi.”

“Um, this is Seidou,” said the red-jerseyed one, gesturing lamely to the now-brunette. Seidou abruptly got up and left the circle. “S-Seidou, what are you—? Seidou—” Shintaro winced as he watched him punch the wall perpendicular to the door leading inside.

Ow,” said Seidou.

“Dumbass,” said Roppi.

“I could have punched the wall, if you wanted it punched,” said Konoha with a note of fretfulness. “I wouldn’t get hurt.”

“That was the point,” said Seidou, returning to the group whilst shaking out his hand. He appeared enlightened. “It hurt! That actually hurt!” He cackled.

“Did you want it to?” Konoha asked blankly.

Roppi pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh boy.” He was gonna have a hard time dealing with this bunch. Not only was he miffed by the unexpected situation… but also, Tsuki wasn’t here? The only person he actually liked? Well, that was probably for the better. Maybe this was dangerous. Roppi fancied the thought that perhaps he could get killed in such a situation. It wouldn’t be his fault, even. How lucky that would be… hah.

Seidou grabbed Shintaro by the shoulders, eyes filled with something electric. His face seemed to express a fearful hope, dark despair mingling with manic expectations of what could be. “What if this is actually happening right now?” he asked the hikkiNEET.

Shintaro couldn’t tell whether Seidou was horrified or thrilled. “Uh… if it is… what would you do?”

Seidou released him, gazing out beyond the edge of the building with sudden blank contemplation. “I actually don’t know.”

“Sorry to bother your little predicament going on there,” said Roppi, obviously not sorry, “but what the hell are we expected to do here? What now?”

“There are weapons up over there,” began Shintaro, and Konoha immediately trotted over to get them for everyone. “Oh… thanks, Konoha.”

“I can get everyone’s things,” said Konoha, pleased with himself for being able to help. Shintaro and Roppi went over to the android, the darker dressed of the two still looking rather skeptical.

“So then… is this some sort of fighting game?” Roppi inquired, watching with a quirked eyebrow as Shintaro was handed a pair of scissors. “Is that even a weapon?”

Shintaro answered only with a lame smile.

“This is for Seidou,” said Konoha, handing down a crossbow quinque.

“I can take it,” said Shintaro, tone strained. Back at the circle, Seidou was pacing back and forth, back and forth.

“And for Roppi,” said Konoha, handing down a black-handled switchblade.

“Hm.” Feigning disinterest, Roppi couldn’t help but be impressed with his weapon, inlaid with rubies. Flicking it open, the blade shone crimson – a nice design, he thought it rather fit his tastes, and—

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” said Seidou, approaching them all. Shintaro had already taken a step back from the blade without much thinking about it. Seidou pointed at Roppi, accusatory. “Careful that thing. It’s fuckin’ dangerous.”

“Um.” Obviously not taking his words seriously, Roppi nevertheless flicked the knife shut. “Is that better?”

“Don’t cut anybody with that unless you really wanna fuck with ‘em. Got it?”

“Sure.”

“I don’t understand,” said Konoha blankly.

“Which thing?” asked Shintaro weakly.

“A lot, actually.”

“Well, uh…” Shintaro, having pocketed his scissors, began to sheepishly rub at the back of his neck. “Er—Roppi, it would probably be better if… if you didn’t stab anyone with that thing.”

“You think it works on the eight?” asked Seidou thoughtfully.

Shintaro gave him an exasperated look. “I’d rather not find out.”

Seidou turned to Roppi. “Say, you can try that on Izaya if you want.”

Seidou.”

“What? It can’t be so bad, he’s already a complete asshole.”

Roppi brought a hand to his mouth, hiding a bit of a snicker. Perhaps Seidou could at least humor him… He wasn’t too terrible, he guessed. Maybe they weren’t necessarily bad company. Well—he shouldn’t be making any judgments yet, anyhow.

“Alright, everybody!” said Seidou importantly, calling everyone to attention. “I’m leader, starting now, and I’ve decided our first plan of operation!”

Shintaro was taken aback, but perfectly okay with this.

Well, he guessed it depended upon the plan.

“Oh yeah?” said Roppi, while Konoha gazed blankly. “And what’s that?”

“We’re just starting out, and we’re gonna need our energy, so I say we all find food, first and foremost,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Food?” Konoha brightened, and Shintaro understood. The red-jerseyed one smiled, slight and perhaps a touch sympathetic. If Seidou was really human, he could eat regular food again.

“We’re gathering provisions?” Roppi didn’t seem too thrilled.

“No questions!” said the brunette, very straightforward.

“Well… I guess it makes sense…” The alternate’s lips thinned as he saw that Seidou had already walked right to the door and had started down the stairs. Sighing heavily, Roppi brought a hand to his forehead.

Shintaro scratched at the back of his head, anxiously looking from where Seidou had left to his other two teammates. “Um, I guess we’ll follow him, then… C’mon, guys.”

“Right,” said Roppi, none too thrilled.

“This seems fun. I like food,” said Konoha. “I really do look forward to being friends with everyone.”

Shintaro’s heart ached for joy. Maybe they really could worry about the predicament itself later… Couldn’t they take advantage of this peace while it lasted?


Kaneki couldn’t bear it. He couldn’t. Smile fixed on his face, his pallid eye reflected his terror, his feet shifting to take a step back from Hide and Akira. He felt his darkness eating away at his insides and cursed the monster inside himself for not rejoicing in their return.

“Aw, sweet!” Hide clapped his hands, grinning his bright smile. “I’m glad I’m in your group, Neki!” He rubbed at his nose, eyes squinting in his happy expression. “Not to mention, Mado too?”

Kaneki could only recall how Hide’s smile had looked as he died, his warm hand at the half-ghoul’s pale cheek. The red pooling at his knees as he realized he had arrived to help too late.

Akira’s lips thinned. “Yes. You may not know me… ah, Kaneki.” Her gaze did not meet his. “Nagachika, you do realize the situation of your friend, don’t you?”

Kaneki couldn’t even process the subdued contempt in her tone. He could only feel the pit in his gut he’d felt when he’d let the possessed A-ya past him, the image of Akira dying in Seidou’s arms burned into his memories with regret.

“What do ya mean?” Hide answered the woman cheerfully. “I mean, I dig the new hairdo, and the eyepatch looks real badass.”

“He’s… he is a half-ghoul, too,” she said, with some gentleness. Still, rather blunt.

“Oh, yeah? I sorta figured.” Hide didn’t seem to mind the bluntness. “But he’s my best buddy, so it’ll be alright!”

“I suppose.” Akira shifted uneasily. Though she knew Kaneki as the CCG officer he was to become, she was wary of the fact that this was not the amnesiac she worked with. No, this was Ken Kaneki the SS~ Rank ghoul, known as both Eyepatch and Centipede. It would only make sense – he looked younger, and here was Nagachika, who’d been missing for two years… Seidou; she’d gone to his funeral… Suzuya, who was undoubtedly younger than as she knew him, too… It was the only explanation – they were of the past. How? Well, the greater question was how they all got here at all. And also, why?

Perhaps it would be best for her not to be too terribly judgmental of Kaneki. She needed to collect herself. Hide seemed to be doing just fine with that.

“So I guess we should do introductions, huh?” said Hide, clasping his hands behind his head in a casual gesture that said that he was perfectly comfortable with this situation.

“I… I know Akira,” Kaneki managed. He thought perhaps he had figured out the root of his fear: he did not want to lose them again. With the hope of seeing them again mixing with the memory of having lost them both—he was terrified. How much it hurt just to see Hide… well, he guessed he should be thankful Touka hadn’t been brought in, too. “It’s hard to explain, but I do know you.” He gave a small bow to her. “But it’s a pleasure to… ‘meet’ you, all the same.”

She nodded. “Likewise.”

He felt sick. Hide put an arm around his shoulders, and he smiled weakly. “Man, long time no see, buddy! You look freakin’ cool, let me tell you! I hope you know, you don’t need to worry about anything I missed, okay? I…”

“Thank you,” said Kaneki, unable to look either of them in the eye. “Really. I… thank you. I’m… I’m really glad to see you.”

Snickering happily, Hide scratched at his nose. “Aw, I’m glad.”

Kaneki knew he didn’t want to explain that they had died before, that was sure… but he did need to gather his bearings and act with solid motive. How could he proceed, when only he recalled the previous game? Surely he needed to tell them that much – he could trust them with the information, and he’d need their cooperation if they were to mobilize against the threat of the game itself…

“I… both of you,” he said, and both Hide and Akira looked to him. “Ah… how do I…?” He touched his chin. “And starting over again, at that…” How daunting… Bracing himself to put his pieces back together, he took a deep breath and released it slowly. Hide and Akira were both patient with him, and he was grateful. “Alright. This may sound rather unlikely, but this has happened before in a similar fashion. This is structured as a death game, and we three have played it before. Both of you…” He couldn’t bring himself to say that they hadn’t made it. He shook his head, willing away the images of their deaths. “This game was completed by eight… technically nine people that are in-game right now. I’m one of them, and all of us seem to remember that… and so…”

“Does that mean that you can provide us an explanation?” asked Akira, logical as ever.

Kaneki gave an apologetic smile. “The best I can.” He composed himself, straightening his posture. “I don’t want tensions to be high among us. Akira, I feel I should explain to you that I have no ill will towards you or the CCG, and I already know that in the future I become an officer that works beside you.” Hands at his sides, he bowed to her. “I may not be exactly like your subordinate, but I do hope that we can work together here.”

She blinked at him, mildly startled. Still, her eyes softened, just subtly. “Guess I can’t be your superior here,” she said, a slight smile touching her lips. “You know more than either of us, so it seems I’ve no choice but to trust you.”

Kaneki looked at her, brow furrowed deeply in his self-doubt. He closed his eyes. “Thank you.”

Hide had brought his hands to the back of his head, casual. He watched the scene with warm expression, sorta lost on the situation but happy for the positive exchange.

“And, Hide.”

“Hm? What’s up?”

“I’m sorry.”

The bleached-blond boy tilted his head to the side, blinking eyes unclouded. “Huh? What for, Neki?”

Kaneki averted his gaze. For everything, he thought. He wished he could apologize to Touka, too. And Shirazu. Shinichi. Shirou. Rin. Psyche, and Delic. He said, “For always running away.”

Something flickered momentarily over Hide’s visage, but he still grinned at him. “What are ya talking about? I’m just super glad we’re together right now! So like, does that mean that you and I have already had a warm and fuzzy reunion where I scold you about rabbits dying of loneliness?”

“Ah…” Kaneki touched his chin. “I suppose we have.” Even though he didn’t recall Hide bringing up rabbits in the first round.

“Sweet! Then I’m gonna act like everything’s the same as ever, okay?”

Kaneki began to relax. How was it that even now, Hide could make him feel so at ease? Sunshine; this felt like sunshine. “Well… now that that’s established, we come up with a plan of action. I think we should meet up with as many groups as we can, and ally with them. Even though, for some reason, the game has started over again… I think something must have gone wrong. There’s too much different than how it was last time, and… surely, if all of us convene and work together, we can try to end this properly and without casualty… Well—that’s an ideal situation, but…”

“We’ll do it!” said Hide brightly.

Akira nodded. “The best we can do is find the others that you said made it to the end, Ken Kaneki.” She paused, hesitating. The mixed pain of seeing Seidou as he once was… but also how strange he was acting, came to mind. She thought to ask, but figured that the question would be answered in time.

Kaneki smiled at them, but his gaze was already distant. Would they really have to do everything again? What if the game had to end with eight, without exception? What if it were a time limit, and they would have to spend ten days here again? What if there was no end? He fought not to succumb to such hopelessness. “For now, though, we’ll head to the city, and keep an eye out for aggressors… namely the demon.”

“Right,” said Akira, nodding shortly while Hide agreeably bobbed his head.

“I can only hope… that this is not a true reset in which the game needs to be played again,” Kaneki said quietly. He thought to direct them to take their weapons from the table, but here was the cue for them to be interrupted. There was a light rapping on the wooden frame at their side.

They looked at someone standing tentatively in the doorframe which led into another room of the cabin. Hide and Akira were befuddled, but neither so confused as Kaneki, staring into the image of a casual boy his own age with plain brown hair and flickering brown eyes. Almost sheepish, he brought his hand to the back of his neck and smiled. “Sorry, I didn’t know the best time to announce my presence. Hi there.”

“I…” Kaneki was unsure what to make of this. He spoke tentatively. “Light Yagami?”

He laughed. “Yes, that’s right. It’s nice to meet all of you. Kaneki. Akira. Hide.” He gave a nod to each of them in turn.

“Nice to meetcha,” said Hide brightly. “But uh, were you in the intro?”

Light shook his head. “I wasn’t.”

“But Kaneki, you know him,” said Akira, her words an indirect question.

“Past game?” suggested Hide, and Kaneki nodded, still peering at Light in wonder. The half-ghoul was still clueless as to what happened to the brunette after he left him so wounded, but knowing how strangely Shintaro and Akira and Shirou had acted about it… and the way Muse had reacted to Shintaro’s inquiry on the matter…

“I know, it’s all really confusing, isn’t it?” said Light. “And not knowing a thing, either, even if you were involved. Even I am alarmingly overwhelmed by…” He brought a hand to his chest, pausing with far-off eyes. Then he chuckled a bit. “…well, everything, I guess.”

“Everything, huh?” Hide looked at Kaneki while Akira scrutinized Light with a visage too distant to glean meaning from. “Is he one of the ones who made it?”

“Well… no,” said Kaneki slowly. “I don’t actually know what became of him, though. Light-kun, I don’t suppose you recall anything. I don’t know… whether you’d remember.”

Light smiled his slight, charismatic smile, and Kaneki remembered how the boy had tried to use him after Touka had died. Kaneki also remembered, vaguely, the way he’d attacked Light and torn him up and left him there. “It’s okay,” said Light, “everything is behind us, now. I’m happy to work with you and Akira-san again.”

Akira crossed her arms over her chest, on guard. “I’m sure it’s a pleasure.”

Chuckling, he answered, “It’s okay to be suspicious. I would be pretty cautious of me, too. I’m sure Kaneki has a reason for it.” He looked to the half-ghoul, and brown eyes met grey. “I really am on your side this time, though.”

Hide blinked, and glanced at Kaneki to try and see if he could figure out what that meant.

“Well,” said Kaneki with a thin smile, “it seems I will have to give you a chance, seeing as we’re in the same group again. However, don’t expect me to trust you. If you make one wrong move…” Remembering again the way Light had taken advantage of his grief over Touka, his guilt for maiming him quelled for the time being. “…seeing as you remember, I’m sure you know what will happen.” Touching his chin, he tilted his head with a welcoming visage. “I hope we can all cooperate.”

“I’d like to know exactly what transpired,” said Akira, looking between the two who recalled the previous game.

Hide raised his eyebrows. “Mm? Is that fine? As curious as I am, too, maybe it’s alright to give this guy a second chance? I trust Neki, for sure.”

“Even so,” she said stiffly, “I think it’d be helpful to know what to look out for, if there’s a potential for conflict.”

“Well, that’s true.” The blond looked to Kaneki for confirmation. “What do you think? Ya think we should know what’s up?”

Akira did have a point. Perhaps it would be wise for everyone to be on the same page, else suspicions would rise.

Kaneki frowned a bit. He wasn’t altogether sure. “…Well—”

“It’s fine,” said Light, stepping forward and thus towards the other three. “I think Akira-san is right. Kaneki can confirm whether I’ve told all I need to, right?” Though mildly surprised, Kaneki gave a nod at Light’s inquiring glance. “I was already in my own situation which was hard to explain – I’ll spare you the details, but my…” – here his lips twitched in something like a smirk – “…my job at home is something not everyone might agree with. That, combined with the fact that I was human and quite incapable in a ‘death game’ like this compared to some of our adversaries, led me to try and sway Kaneki-kun to my side of things.” He glanced to Kaneki, who crossed his arms over his chest.

“That does about sum up the situation.”

Light smiled. “Thank you.”

Was that enough?

He brought his hand to the back of his neck, as if sheepish. “Now, I guess you could argue that this is an easy way to boost my trust among you, by being honest and acknowledging my mistakes… But I have only losses in admitting something like the fact that I tried to manipulate Shintaro into helping me kill some of the players on our side just because they were in my way. Aa… well, I guess that would help me out if we were to come across him, and he were to tell you about it. Hmm.” He touched his cheek thoughtfully.

“You don’t need to try too hard, bud,” said Hide. “I’m sure if you’re good to be trusted, we’ll see it when we work together over time. Right, guys?”

“That’s right,” said Akira, while Kaneki gave a nod.

Light had something more to say, however.

His brow furrowed, glancing upwards with a frown. “I want to make sure you’ll believe that at least my words have merit. At the very least, you should know this: in here,” – he held up his forearm and indicated his wristwatch – “…I have a slip of paper. If I write the name of someone I know the face of, they will die.”

That is, if they’re human.

“Right, it only works on humans, so there are limitations. I can’t go and kill gods and demons so easily,” he chuckled.

Kaneki frowned a bit. It wasn’t as though they would need to kill people anyway – or at least, that was the best-case scenario.

“Sorry, sorry,” said Light. “I’m only letting you know because it puts me at a disadvantage – even if I were to want to kill someone for whatever reason, I can’t keep my method secret anymore. I think it’s better to be transparent in this situation. If I’m to be more… practical, here, it’s safe to say that it’s better for you and myself to be open and to work together. Isn’t it true that we all want this to end? And isn’t it true that we’d prefer to have more lives spared, however selfish or selfless the desire is?”

“I think we can manage just fine,” agreed Hide heartily.

Akira nodded curtly. “With mutual interests, I’m sure we effectively manage ourselves as a unit. I think we should come up with a defensive position when we do set out, is that so, Kaneki?”

“That’s right…”

“The only way to make it to the end of this game is through cooperation,” said Light, speaking with his warm charisma again. “So really, the ones who choose to be antagonists are the fools in this setup.”

“It is admittedly discouraging,” said Kaneki, looking nowhere. “Will we have to do everything over again, do you think? What would happen if we managed to conglomerate everyone without bloodshed?”

“Well,” said Hide, nudging the half-ghoul with goodwill, “I think if that’s the case, at least we’re together, huh?”

Kaneki remembered Hide’s hand going limp as his breath left him. He smiled with some pain. “Yes, that’s true.”

“There can’t be only one option,” said Akira firmly. “If that choice rests in the ones directing this game, then we’ll appeal to them. We won’t just accept an outcome of being held here for an indeterminate amount of time. If that makes them our enemies, then so be it.”

“I wouldn’t be too terribly worried,” said Light, with slight smile and dancing eyes. “It won’t be long now.”

“What makes you say that?” asked Kaneki, tone tinted with suspicion.

He chuckled. “You of all people should understand, Kaneki-kun. The author needs to end the story soon.”

Chapter 119: Carryover

Chapter Text

“Alright, alright, everyone!” Muse clapped their hands joyously, having just returned to the top of tower from the introduction platform. Everyone that could was waiting there in the control center – Rodd, Durden, Seraph, Greyson, and Rainbow. Smiling thinly at the five of them, Muse said, “I suppose I don’t even need to tell you. You know what you’re doing, don’t you?”

Of course they did. Sounds of confirmation answered Muse’s inquiry.

“Mm,” said Rodd, pushing his glasses up on his face. “Though, isn’t this game just a little bit strange this time around?”

“It is, isn’t it?” commented Greyson, hands folded over his stomach. He seemed subdued.

Closing one eye, Durden smirked. “That’s what makes things fun, doesn’t it?”

Rainbow looked from Greyson to Muse and back again. Seemed she couldn’t figure out what was so strange. Greyson had looked away, and Muse offered no answer. With a thin smile, Seraph offered Rain a shrug.

“Well, think about it,” said Muse. “Doesn’t this make the most sense?” Their violet eyes glimmering, they calmly clasped their hands behind their back, turning and walking over to a window pane overlooking the high-rise buildings to the north. “If I make the game open-ended… and I give them positive dynamics… no one will want it to end, do you think?”

“I dunno about that,” said Durden, and Muse looked back at him with a slight frown. Unfazed, he rolled his shoulders in a shrug. “What? Can’t you tell that some of ‘em are already trying to figure out what the fuck just happened?” He straightened up from leaning against the wall, uncrossing his arms and gazing back at Muse. “Besides, it wouldn’t be fun just letting things progress happily. Right?”

Here, Muse laughed. “You’re right, of course, Durden. My thoughts exactly.”

He smiled. “I thought as much. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve gotta go meet up with Group 6. Later.”

They watched him leave, and Rainbow confusedly raised her hand. “Um,” she said, “isn’t Group 6 mine?”

“As long as Durden can justify it, he can do whatever he likes,” answered Muse, sitting placidly in their chair. “Go on and have your fun, everyone.”

“Right,” said Greyson.

Seraph’s hands were fists at her sides. Slightly, she was trembling, but then she stilled. “You bet,” she said, and turned on her heel before leaving.

Rainbow sensed the tension but didn’t understand it. No one offered an answer to her lost expression.


“So our greatest option right now seems to be finding other groups and teaming up,” said Izaya. He was leaning on the weapons table, his arms crossed over his chest. It was so nice not to be injured all over.

The others were watching him; he’d just finished explaining the gist of the situation they were in. Shizuo looked especially perplexed. He wanted to distrust him just because it was Izaya, but this dead kid Yukine was vouching for the story, and the situation they were in was already insane, not to mention impossible. Maybe other impossible things could happen. Like Izaya being honest.

“Any questions?” asked Izaya, eyebrows arched. He looked particularly at Shizuo. “You seem pretty confused.”

“It’s a lot to wrap my head around,” Shizuo frowned deeply, trying not to let his tone become a growl.

“I’ve just accepted that it doesn’t make sense,” said Yato brightly.

“Yato,” sighed Yukine. “We need all of us to be on board here, if we’re gonna work together.”

“Alright, alright.” Running a hand through his deep purple hair, the god sobered up. “You’re right, of course. It really doesn’t make sense, though. How can all this time-jumping be happening? Events getting erased, death becoming insignificant, game masters who have the ability to do all this not only to humans but also to gods and demons – and from different realms, no less. This shouldn’t be possible. None of it should. It’s one thing if we were all trying to figure out this situation together, but that it’s happened before and could potentially happen again… and that somehow you and Izaya know some of the mechanisms behind it… well…” His lips thinned as he frowned. “I’m not too sure what to do.”

“Find other groups?” suggested Yukine again.

“Um,” said Shizuo. “You said, uh, that there were other players. That knew what was happening.”

“That’s right,” said Izaya.

“And that’s because they made it to the end,” said Yato.

“Yep,” said Yukine. “Except maybe for Akise. He’s sort of a confusing case. I dunno if we can consider him a player, honestly.”

“But he seems to be a player this round,” Izaya pointed out, and Yukine’s brow furrowed.

“Right…”

“This is confounding for all of us,” said the informant. “But imagine: things don’t need to be possible if they’re written in a fantasy. We’re not just setting up against some strange and inexplicable higher power. We’re up against ourselves.”

“The author of this story,” said Yukine.

Izaya didn’t answer to that.

Shizuo had just begun to feel like he had an inkling of what was happening, but now he was even more confused than he’d been in the first place. “Okay, what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t think everyone needs to understand that much.” Izaya looked so tired. “But we’re fighting against these aforementioned ‘masters,’ and it’s our existence that’s at stake. I, for one, refuse to lose that fight.” Thoughtful, he turned around to look at the only weapon on the table: the Prophet. The game masters had even left him his silly little plastic sheath. “The point isn’t that you fill in all the gaps for what may have happened last game.” He traced the designs with his fingers. “We just need to be on common enough ground that we can strive for the same thing.”

“That’s right,” agreed Yukine. “I think all of us agree that we just wanna go home. Isn’t that motivation enough?”

Shizuo grunted in confirmation, nodding curtly.

“Definitely,” said Yato, his tone somber.

“That doesn’t mean that we won’t carry some things from last time that you won’t ever know about,” added the informant as he attached the plastic sheath to his belt. “But as far as I’m concerned, everything has been settled between all of us, don’t you think, Yukine?”

“Uh… no, not really,” he answered. The Shinki thought about the feeling of betrayal he’d felt when he found out what Yato had done, or the pain of watching him sacrifice himself. The lack of any sort of goodbye that could offer closure. He also wondered how Izaya may still feel about Shizuo saving his life by sacrificing his own.

“Oh, you don’t think so? Well, it’d be up to us to fix that, wouldn’t it?”

“I really don’t know.” Yukine was at least honest about it.

“Okay, I really wish I knew whatever you’re talking about being settled,” said Shizuo.

“I’m allowed to keep that a mystery, Shizuo,” smiled Izaya thinly. “It’s not just you, either. It’s Yato, too. He and I really did have an interesting time.”

“That’s a way to put it,” uttered Yukine.

“An interesting time,” repeated Yato. He stared at some point on the wooden floor.

“Well,” Shizuo spoke gruffly, “I guess, for now, I might be able to stand working with you… Izaya.” Saying his name without rage felt damned weird. He ran a hand through his messy blond locks. “I wish I had a smoke.”

“Of course you do,” Izaya answered drily.

Shizuo cleared his throat. “We should try ‘n find Celty first. I wanna feel less like I’m losing my mind.” He shook his head.

Yukine was watching their tense and uncomfortable interaction with pride. It wasn’t getting along, really, but it was at least non-violent.

“You know… this doesn’t… make sense,” said Yato slowly. His hand was to his forehead, his eyes obscured.

“Which part?” said Yukine.

“All of it?” suggested Izaya, eyebrows arched.

Yato was quiet a moment before he answered. “Is it that, everything was erased? From the first time?”

Izaya and Yukine glanced at each other. “Mm…” The informant peered at Yato. “What do you mean, Yato?”

“It must have. Because otherwise, how would Shizuo know who you are, Izaya?”

“Huh?” Shizuo looked perplexed. Izaya blinked comically wide eyes. Yukine looked stricken.

Yato raised his head and looked at Izaya with a gaze almost accusatory, his piercing eyes, silver instead of cerulean. “I severed your ties, didn’t I? Why does he know who you are?”


“Well? Have you?” The demon peered down at A-ya with eyes shining yellow. “Have you heard that tale?”

Yukiteru forced himself to keep still, even though he wanted to get between the two of them and tell Kuroha to leave A-ya alone. C-ta, too, wanted to make a move to help A-ya, but found himself frozen in place. Minene had her teeth gritted, grenade gripped tightly in hand even though she knew it would be of no use to her right now with everyone so close together.

Saeru seemed amazingly patient for being, you know, Saeru.

At last, A-ya found his voice, speaking breathlessly, with a frail tone of uncertainty. “You remember me?”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” said the serpent with some bitterness. “And no, not really. I know only that you were once my master, and that I received the directive to ask you that question.”

A-ya felt his blood beginning to quell into a more manageable thrum. “Ah…”

“Once his master?” repeated C-ta faintly. “A-ya… how much did I miss?”

“Well…”

“Hey, hey guys!” called Twelve from a few meters away. He waved as he approached with Suzuya and Rika.

“Is it that everything is alright?” asked Rika, urgency on her face.

“I’m not sure yet,” said A-ya, voice taut. “Hi, Rika.” He couldn’t look at Twelve or Suzuya. He remembered finding Twelve’s body, and making the joint decision to kill Suzuya with his own hands. He remembered Suzuya trying to kill him. The irony of the current situation stuck him, and he tittered a bit.

Twelve had already remarked upon Minene’s grenade, making conversation with her and C-ta, dragging Suzuya into it in the meantime. Yukiteru and Rika stuck with Saeru and A-ya, trying to figure out the situation. The youngest crept over to Yukki, whispering a, “Yukiteru?” with concern on her face. He merely put a hand on her head and continued staring at Saeru with rapt attention, his expression one of stone.

“You… received a directive?” A-ya touched his chin, thoughtful. He swallowed the fear and the guilt. He had to. “But from who? Isn’t that strange?”

“I don’t know.” Saeru crossed his arms over his chest. “I thought perhaps you may have an idea. I am quite annoyed by the situation, knowing how little I know. If there is anything I understand thus far, it is that I don’t want to be mocked as a puppet.”

A-ya nodded. “I don’t know if you’ve figured it out yet, Saeru, but the game is fake.”

“Mm. I see. There is no game after all, is there? The point is reset, isn’t it?”

“That’s right.”

“I’d suppose it’s some kind of bargain on existence, is that so?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“And whoever runs the show, that entity that introduced themselves at the beginning, would you say that that person is the one who fears disappearing?”

A-ya’s eyes rounded subtly; he had achieved almost complete lack of expression again. “That’s a thought, isn’t it? But… allegedly it’s that person, Muse, that is the only person whose existence is assured.”

“Really… then why continue with their creation? If they can move beyond it.”

“They don’t want to lose what they have here.”

“Something like attachment… is that it?”

“I’d say so.”

Saeru scoffed. “How stupid.”

“But ‘love’ is the most powerful of human emotions, isn’t it?”

“I concede your point.”

Yukiteru watched, blinking blankly. He and Rika glanced at one another. Rika looked even more stupefied. Yukki smiled at her. “I knew A-ya was the kind that could get along with demons, after all.”

“I… do not know how I feel about that,” she answered quietly.

“I have a proposal, if you’ll hear it,” said A-ya to Saeru.

The demon arched his eyebrows, looking mildly humored. “Oh? What’s that, kid?”

A-ya took a deep breath, looking up into the serpent’s eyes with a steady gaze. “It is in both of our best interests to get out of here. If we follow the masters’ wishes and strive for reset, we may keep our existence – at least until they get bored – but we remain their playthings. If we rise against the masters, on the other hand, we can claim our existence as our own and secure it with our own hands. The best way to do that is to join forces.”

Saeru’s eyes had narrowed. “Oh really… And what if I told you that your words were something that sounded like a lie?”

A-ya blinked, then smiled in cold humor. “You don’t have to believe me. I’m most fluent in rumors, you know. Those are what walk the line between things that sound like lies, and things that sound like truths. How about this? I have a wish: I want all of us to make it out of here, yourself included.”

“You speak well, for a human,” he said, mildly disdainful.

“I like to think you’d taken a liking to me, last round.”

“What?” Saeru looked offended. “I would never. You do, however, have a point. For now, I’ll try for that wish of yours. But this is no official deal, and there are thus no promises to break. This is not the final word, do you understand?”

“It’s fine with me,” A-ya answered, eyes shining in dark mirth. “For now.” He gave a bow. “Thank you.”

Saeru narrowed his eyes to slits, looking skeptical, or perhaps suspicious. “You are a strange one, A-ya.”

“I cannot believe this,” murmured Rika, and Yukki shrugged. He looked over to the interaction going on with the others, his expression softening. The playful banter already building between Minene and Twelve. The gradual integration of Suzuya. Even C-ta could be involved this time, though he was presently distracted by the fact A-ya wasn’t involved.

“Is it strange to you, Rika?” asked Yukki. “Or are you used to seeing things happen again after they’re over?”

She glanced at him. Truthfully, she didn’t think much of it anymore. The only thing that made it odd was how new this was. “It’s nice,” she offered. “It’s different this time.”

“Well then, if we’re allied groups now,” Yukki said loud enough to imply he was addressing A-ya and Saeru as well, “why don’t we all interact together? I for one am gonna make friends with Twelve and Suzuya!” Laughing happily, he headed over to the others, Rika glancing at Saeru and A-ya before following behind.

“What fools,” remarked Saeru, looking with disapproval at the interaction.

“I don’t think you’ll mind Twelve and Suzuya after too long,” A-ya answered. “They’re interesting, like me.”

Saeru frowned at him.

“I’m sort of a loner, but I’m gonna try and talk to them too. Soon, we’re going to make some structure and form a plan. We need to find more groups. You think you can handle working together?”

Saeru scoffed. “Go make your ‘connections.’ I’ll think about the important things.”

“Connections are important, too,” answered A-ya. “They keep us from being helpless.” And he walked over to join the others.


Seraph wasted no time in descending to the underground in search of Aureus’s help in conspiring. Already, they’d come to the decision that they needed to end this as soon as possible, game mechanics be damned. “I just don’t know how to make the game end that fast,” said Aureus, tugging at the hair at the back of his head. “Is this even a game anymore? Haha, with Muse, maybe. But it’s us against them.”

“Hasn’t it always been?” asked Seraph bitterly. “But listen, Muse wants the characters to be happy they’re in this spot. So what we need to do; we’ve gotta snap them out of it and remind them they need to end this!” Her voice had taken on a shrill quality as she went on.

Aureus grimaced at the sound in his small stone space. “Yeah? How do we do that? If we do something traumatic, Muse is just gonna giggle like ‘Oh, isn’t that fun? Good job guys!’ No. No! I don’t want that.”

Seraph clenched her fists, refraining from whacking him over the head. “I don’t want trauma, I want, I don’t know, an alarm clock.”

“I can conjure tons of alarm clocks. Call me the Shirou Emiya of alarm clocks. Unlimited Clock Works.” He started to laugh, but it quickly died into a whimper. “Shirou…”

She clicked her tongue. “Not what I mean.”

“I know, I know.” Contemplative, he rubbed at his crooked nose. “But that’s an idea, isn’t it?”

“What is?” She was quite impatient.

“Bringing not something, but someone.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Muse has jurisdiction over bringing people in and out of the game, and you know that.”

“Well, what if we cheated the system? Like, we might not be able to bring in an actual character, but combining our super-cool symbolic and backstory powers, we could figure something out! Maybe?”

Bringing her hands to the back of her neck, she stared downwards, thinking intensely. She began to pace. “Right, sorta like how you got Seidou to hallucinate his human self to guide him in the right direction?”

“Right, right, and you can guide the players to the right epiphany, with character development and stuff, and then—”

“And then what?”

Both of them whipped their heads to the door at the low voice. There Durden stood, large arms crossed over his chest. His brows were raised, his violet eyes glowing but reflecting the flickering golden lights of Aureus’s little cave.

“Uhh,” said Aureus. He flashed a grin. “Hey, Durden. ‘Sup?” Seraph’s lips had thinned, her own violet eyes dark and averted from their gazes.

“Nothing much.” Durden looked at both of them, appraising the situation. “You know, you’re doing this all wrong. If you want to be starting a revolution, you gotta be more secretive than this.”

“Oi!” Aureus cried, immediately defensive. “I can’t go anywhere else!”

Durden only shook his head. “Whatever. I’d love to give you a hand.” He smiled at them, his goatee stretching around his sly mouth.

“No, you’ll never take me alive—! Wait.” He picked at his ear. “What?”

Seraph had taken a few paces backwards. “I don’t trust him. He’s lying. Aureus, you know that he and Rodd are closest to Muse. You know that.”

“Coulda sworn that Grey was up there in status, too,” remarked Durden. He’d taken on a more neutral stance, his hands in the pockets of his black hoodie.

Seraph darkened further. No, that wasn’t right, because Seraph liked Grey.

“Look, I’ve already started messing things up. Or have you been too busy conspiring?” He gestured to the screens. “I gave Yato some of his memory of last route – that is, if you even remember last route. That’ll provide some credibility for Izaya, and speeds up the process of trust building.”

“How does that speed the process?” snipped Seraph. “Now Yato’s not gonna trust him at all!”

“Think about it. Isn’t the relationship between Izaya and Shizuo the rockier one here? Besides, Izaya and Yato were very close throughout last game. Both of them hated it, but damn it, they really gave a shit about each other.”

“Okay, point,” conceded Aureus.

“I’ve also given Saeru some recollection of A-ya, but only A-ya,” added Durden. “A-ya’s already on the right track for ending this thing, and now he can reign in what’s potentially the biggest threat to the possibility of an all-player alliance. Tell me that isn’t helpful.”

Aureus released a low whistle. “How did you even…? How?”

“I’m plot: if I justify it, I can do it. Yato used a huge plot device in severing Izaya’s ties, something that had the capacity to mess with even game master influence. If it can influence us, I figured I could justify some carryover. Maybe I can even work in some subsequent recall – because he remembered one thing, he can remember more. As for Saeru, it’s a similar deal. We guided him to A-ya once, and that duo flourished beyond our expectations. The relationship they had was, again, beyond typical. Think about it: if someone were to be possessed in this game, that’s beyond our control once the deal is made. We can’t sever that bond on our own.”

“But Yato could,” Aureus uttered quietly.

“Right, because he was the counter. A god versus a demon – makes sense. And even he couldn’t do it so easy – equivalent exchange, am I right? And well, powerful stuff like that, I figure there can be some carryover. That’s my justification.”

“But why?” Seraph was still unconvinced. “Why would you want to help?”

His eyes flickered as his smile widened. “Maybe that’s a secret. You can’t deny that it would be useful to have my help. That is, unless you want Muse to intervene.”

She clamped her mouth shut, biting her tongue. Her nails dug into her palms as she clenched her fists. She began to tremble, and instead pressed her fist to her cheek, chewing on the flesh of her mouth and letting the distant pain calm her down.

Aureus looked over to Seraph’s tense figure, obviously distraught, then looked to Durden again, who revived his dark smile. Aureus took a deep breath, then released a long sigh. He turned in his swivel chair to view the screens.

“What do you say?” said Durden. He was being quite patient. “Are we working together, or not?”

“I thought you preferred going solo,” mumbled the items master, toggling one of the switches to get a view on one of the groups.

“I’d prefer it, but I figured it was better if we cooperate, too. I’ve been fucking things up behind the scenes for a while now.”

Aureus ran a hand through his hair, his conflict showing in the gold of his eyes. He didn’t know whether he should trust Durden either – he could see where the evidence was, but there was also evidence to the contrary. He was inclined to believe that the bald man was half-bullshitting them, and wasn’t really on anybody’s side. “If we’re gonna target a group, we should target Group 2,” he said tentatively. “They look like they’re the ones that are most caught up in this happy little scenario Muse has going on for them.”

“Cool,” said Durden. “Let’s give ‘em a taste of reality.”

Aureus glanced at Seraph, and at Durden. “Roger.”

Chapter 120: Bonds of the Heart

Notes:

Whoops! Looks like I missed last week. Apologies, my dear readers; I was a fool to think I could maintain my schedule in the midst of a move. Updates should be consistent from here through to the end of this ride. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter Text

“Here!”

Roppi glared at Seidou while Konoha looked mildly up at the building that the brunette had led them to. “Why did we come this far for a small café?” asked the red-eyed boy, dull.

“It looks nice,” commented Konoha. “There is food here?”

“Yep,” answered Seidou curtly, and headed on in without another word, the door jingling on the way.

Shintaro eyed the sign on the door that said ‘free wi-fi’, and his chest began to ache. This was where their three-group alliance had settled all that time ago. How many people had been together with them, back then? How many of them had they lost? He met eyes with Roppi, and smiled weakly. “There’s probably lattes. Not that I’d know if you’d like those.”

His red eyes narrowed in suspicion, and he raised his sleeve to his mouth. “I just don’t know why here, when there were other places on the way. You two also seem to know the area, which looks real suspicious if you ask me.”

“Uh, yeah, that’s sorta complicated,” said Shintaro. “For now, let’s head in.” He pushed open the door, then, and led the way. Seidou stood still before them, staring at the counter with a vacant expression. “Uh… Seidou?”

He began to laugh, the tittering sort, mildly manic. “What’s that look for? Looks like a coffee shop I know, heehee…”

“Ah, look at all the food,” said Konoha with blank cheer. “We will be stocked, Leader.”

Seidou subtly flinched at the title. “Seidou’s fine, though. Just sayin’.”

“Oh, okay, Seidou.”

“This is pretty nice,” conceded Roppi, looking around with his sleeve still hiding the expression of his mouth.

Seidou hesitated, and Shintaro tentatively approached, held back by doubt until at last he had the courage to bring a hand to his teammate’s shoulder. “Um… you want to try something? Test it out?”

Seidou turned his face to look at him, and though his expression was dark and serious, it was still so strange but nice, looking into his brown eyes again—looking to his human face, even though his gaze still reflected things no man should see. “Damned right I do,” he said.

Shintaro smiled. “First thing, soda.”

“Soda?”

“Soda. You’re having soda first.”

I’m having a latte,” said Roppi, rolling his eyes. Obviously these people weren’t taking this seriously. And you know, as irritating as it was, maybe that was fine. If they were all going to get killed, then so be it.

Konoha, on the other hand, didn’t think much on it. “I have not had a latte before. What’s that?”

Roppi’s eyes flicked to the android. It was an innocent enough question, and he seemed sincere. “It’s… um, espresso and milk. I take mine with caramel. And three sugar.”

“That sounds tasty. What’s espresso?”

The dark one paused. “It’s… sort of like coffee, but it isn’t coffee. It’s more concentrated, and…”

“Ah, I’ve never had coffee, either.”

“I don’t like coffee,” he said curtly.

“Oh.” Konoha appeared to be mildly hurt by the bluntness. “Okay.”

Roppi frowned. “Did you…” – he looked away – “…want to try a latte?”

He lit up, strangely enough, while maintaining a blank expression. “That would be wonderful. Things taste better when you share them with friends.”

“Don’t call me a friend just yet, alright?”

“Oh, okay. Sorry, then. I hope we can become friends, though.”

“Right…”

While Roppi rummaged around behind the counter to figure out where the necessities for lattes were, Shintaro was scavenging for Coca-Cola in the fridge. Despite the fact there had been only Pepsi products last game, there was miraculously some of the holy drink waiting for them this time. “Here you go, Seidou.” He handed one to him, holding one of his own in his other hand. The brunette took it, feeling the cold of it in his hand. Shintaro watched with some apprehension as he opened it and hesitated. With a look of sudden determination, Seidou took a big sip… and spat it out onto Shintaro.

Spit take: nine out of ten.

“I take it… it didn’t taste good,” said Shintaro, a stiff smile on his face.

“For fuck’s sake, this is the best thing I’ve tasted in years. Which doesn’t make much sense – humans taste real good when you’re a ghoul. Must be some psychological bullshit. Cheers.” Tapping his can to Shintaro’s, he then went to guzzle his soda.

The NEET smiled slightly, more genuine. “I’m so glad…” A pause. “But wait—then spitting soda on me was totally unnecessary!”

Seidou merely cackled as he set down his drink, immediately going over to examine the food afterwards.

“Jeez…”

It was a rather light-hearted venture for the four of them. Konoha and Seidou were most enthusiastic about the food, while Roppi looked to Shintaro for explanation, his expression one of utter skepticism. The NEET only shrugged. “Why play a death game when you can relax instead? None of us want to play, anyway.”

Roppi had to concede his point. The four of them sat at a table together, whether they were eating or not, and as their strange conversation unfolded, even Roppi found himself having a pleasant time. Well—maybe not a pleasant time… but he could admit he was slightly less irritated than normal. Truly, these three weren’t the typical bothersome humans. They were still bothersome, but a—more tolerable bothersome. He guessed.

When Konoha expressed his gratitude for Roppi making him a latte, Roppi hid his small smile behind his sleeve.

Shintaro and Seidou did at last explain why they seemed to know more than they should, mostly to Roppi’s benefit. Konoha looked highly fretful as the discussion went on.

“So basically,” Seidou said conclusively, “we’re screwed, and probably stuck here forever.”

“I don’t like that explanation,” said Roppi flatly. His anxiety for the situation could be found in his eyes if you looked hard enough. Dying was one thing; being stuck here forever and therefore living forever (multiple deaths included) was another thing entirely. And he didn’t think he liked that.

“Well—maybe not forever,” said Shintaro, giving Seidou a disapproving frown. “Or at least… I hope not… ehehe…” He paused. “I think once we’re satisfied, maybe we should try and find other groups… do you think?”

“Satisfied?” Seidou scoffed. “We’ve got all the time in the world, Shintaro. What if there isn’t a point? What if we have no control over the ending? What if there isn’t one? We just take what we get and try to make something enjoyable out of it.”

Roppi looked bitter. “You just want to sit and do nothing?”

“And what do you suggest, Roppi? You, who wouldn’t even mind dying?”

The dark one’s embers fizzled out, and his posture sank from the indignant pose he didn’t know he’d taken on. “Who’re you to say shit like that?” he uttered.

“Seidou,” frowned Shintaro.

“Not mind dying?” repeated Konoha.

“Shut up, ya dumb android,” snipped the brunette, and Konoha seemed to shrivel.

“Seidou,” said Shintaro again.

“I’m just sayin’, if there ain’t nothing we can do, why should we waste our efforts trying? Why try if it won’t get us anywhere different? Why get our hopes up for something we have no grip on ourselves? If caring is how we lose, I say just stop caring.”

Shintaro watched as Roppi’s dull eyes reflected the hopelessness of those words. The furrow of Konoha’s brow expressed his own conflict. “Isn’t caring… important?” asked the albino. “Isn’t trying… what counts the most?”

Shintaro leaned his elbows on the table, one palm pressed to his forehead. ‘Caring,’ or ‘trying,’ weren’t those the things that Seidou had once considered most important? “Look, Seidou, I have to disagree. I know it makes no sense coming from someone like me, who struggles so hard to care or try, but hear me out. The fact we’re here… the fact that we have even the slimmest chance of breaking that cycle, isn’t that enough?” He raised his head. “Isn’t the fact that you’re sitting here in your human body proof enough that there’s some hope? Not caring, not trying; those were the greatest mistakes of my life.” He thought of Ayano smiling, the shade of crimson on her scarf, the dark shade of her hair. He thought of Ayano in her coffin, still, lying with hands clasped over her stomach. The pale shade of her flesh. “I’ve told you why, Seidou.”

Roppi had stirred, looking at Shintaro with dim curiosity.

“Well, I feel like caring and trying were the greatest mistakes of my life,” said Seidou, but despite his disposition, his final interaction with Shirou came to mind. Did he lie to that earnest boy when he said he was willing to go through hell again? Seidou frowned deeply, feeling dissonance.

“Were they really mistakes, Seidou? Or do you just regret the injustice you received for them? That wasn’t your mistake, it was just your misfortune. Me, I earned the consequences for what I didn’t do, and that’s never, not ever going to be fixed. And that’s why—”

There was a rapping on the door, and the NEET jumped. Everyone looked to the closed entrance to their humble rest stop, a different flavor of tension filling the spaces between them. Gently, there came another knock.

Shintaro looked back at everyone else, wide-eyed.

“Another group, maybe?” suggested Roppi. He looked mildly impatient, but still dull-eyed. His fingers drummed on the table. “You can settle your whatevers after we figure out whether we’re dead or not.”

“Maybe they’re friendly,” said Konoha, beginning to get up when Seidou shoved him back in his seat.

I got it,” said the brunette harshly, and went to the door.

As he answered it, the three still at the table had a wordless interaction. Roppi looked to Shintaro with his eyebrows arched, but he only shrugged lamely while Konoha tilted his head.

Seidou was confused when he opened the door to see only one person standing there. He blinked dully at the girl; who smiled nervously at him. “Who the hell are you?” he asked, and squinted. That red scarf did ring a bell. “Oh, yeah, I didn’t eat you.”

“Um, yes… Hi, I’m someone you didn’t eat.”

Shintaro tensed at the sound of her voice.

“You alright?” Roppi didn’t seem concerned by the stricken look on Shintaro’s face.

“It’s nice to meet you; I’m Ayano Tateyama.” She bowed politely, and Seidou opened the door further and turned to Shintaro.

“Oi, Shin, what were you sayin’ about never being able to reconcile for your failures?”

“Is she one of his failures?” asked Roppi.

Shintaro choked on the soda he was habitually drinking to cover up his nerves. “No! D-d-don’t say it like that.”

“I like your scarf,” commented Konoha.

“Thank you,” said Ayano, smiling sweetly. “I like your character design, Konoha.”

“Oh… thank you.” He seemed confused but nonetheless pleased anyway.

“So where’d you come from?” asked Seidou while the other three got to their feet and gravitated to the new person. Shintaro was hanging back, his hesitation painfully obvious.

“I’m here to make sure that the four of you get moving again.” She put her hands on her hips. “You’re not being very helpful, Takizawa-san.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m toxic, I already knew that.”

Breathing a sigh, she clasped her hands in front of her instead. “This endless loop isn’t so endless as it seems to be. All that Shintaro and Takizawa-san have relayed to you is true, and it isn’t only the other teams that are working to properly end this: the game masters are coming together to move this towards a conclusion of their own.”

“You sure know a lot,” said Roppi. “Why?”

“You never answered where you came from,” added Seidou flatly.

“I was sent by Seraph and Aureus. Those two are game masters that are on your side.” She smiled rather apologetically. “I am more spirit now than I am solid. I don’t know how much time they’ll give me.”

Lips thin, Shintaro nodded in understanding.

“The one running all this, Muse, is getting desperate, they think. This replay isn’t set up to be the same game of despair. It’s meant to make you want to stay here. An assured comfort is far easier to settle for than an unassured unknown like trying to get out of here. But this can’t go on forever.”

“If we end this thing, am I gonna be a ghoul again?” Seidou didn’t sound worried. Just annoyed.

“I don’t know the answer to that question.”

“Right. Unassured unknown.”

“For now, we just can’t let Muse control us. They think that you have no volition of your own, but you can prove them wrong and claim your existence. Characters are, after all, supposed to develop.”

“Aha… yeah, that’s right,” said Shintaro, but his voice was weak. He was having a hard time acting like this was a normal interaction when she had been dead for two years now. Wasn’t it just the same as seeing Roppi again, or Konoha? Somehow this hurt more. Still, he wasn’t as incompetent as he expected of himself. It ached, but he found himself… happy, that she was here in front of him. Afraid, too.

“I’m just pissed at the situation proving me wrong right now,” frowned Seidou. “Honestly, I hate myself.”

“I feel that,” said Roppi.

Ayano’s eyes showed some pain. “Don’t say things like that.”

“I digress,” said Seidou.

“I don’t think it matters what we believed, even if it was just a minute ago,” said Shintaro. “We can at least determine who we are in the present. That’s what matters, doesn’t it?”

Seidou sighed heavily. “Yeah, yeah…”

“Right,” said Roppi, sounding unconvinced.

“I like everyone here,” offered Konoha. “I don’t know why anyone would have to use such a strong word… ‘hate’…”

“I agree, Konoha,” smiled Ayano. “But… um… we should…”

“C’mon, Seidou,” said Shintaro. “You’re the leader, so why don’t you direct us where we need to go?” He crossed his arms over his chest and looked the other meaningfully.

After muttering something under his breath, Seidou straightened. “Yeah, alright, fine. Let’s find Kaneki’s group. I wanna brag about the fact I can eat stuff he can’t, anyway.” With this, he pushed past Ayano and out the door. Roppi and Konoha looked at one another. Roppi shrugged and began to follow him, but turned around and grabbed Konoha by the wrist when he noticed the android wasn’t tagging along. Roppi understood the scene well enough to figure that Shintaro and this new girl had something to settle. “C’mon, Konoha,” he said, and they were out the door.

The red-jerseyed one stood with downcast eyes before Ayano. He had so much he wanted to tell her, but had no words to express any of it. The one who he’d wronged only smiled at him. “You’ve changed so much,” she said.

He raised his eyes to her, and wasn’t sure what to make of the sadness of her smile. “Yeah,” he agreed.

“I’m proud.” He blinked wide eyes. “And… I’m sorry, for dying.” She hesitated, then pulled off her scarf, reaching up to wrap it about his neck instead.

He touched the fabric, baffled. To think, it was her that was apologizing to him. He thought of when Seidou had given him this same scarf, insisting that Ayano would have wanted him to have it. The thought that maybe he was right hurt in a nice sort of way. Ayano and Shintaro met eyes again and, lopsidedly, he smiled at her. “I’m sorry too. Um… thank you.”

For a moment it was she who looked surprised. Then her mouth upturned again, eyes closed. “Let’s go then, huh?”


“Shintaro… A-ya… Shinichi… Nora… Yato…” Grey read the names aloud, uttering them as he scribbled notes down in his tiny notebook. There were too many thoughts, too many ideas, too many hopes, too many doubts. Writing things down helped. He felt the weight of time, and checked his watch only to find it was still 12:30. He clucked his tongue at himself, having forgotten again that his watch was useless.

Breathing a sigh, he rested his notes on his chest, staring up at the ceiling of his and Rainbow’s living space. When did this place start to feel so small? A feeling of isolation blanketed him; the potency of disconnection pressing down on him and making his bones leaden. Everyone felt so far away, even in close proximity. Why were they here, anyway? Any of them? Who was Muse, anyway? Something was missing. Someone was missing.

He removed his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose. Truly, there was no purpose to anything as things were. How was it that he hadn’t noticed this heavy stagnancy before? He couldn’t stand it anymore.

That’s why he had decided to make a purpose for himself.

I know that’s the decision I made, but it’s so hard to keep up with. How am I supposed to maintain? I just want to sleep…

He refused the urge to rest this time, preparing himself to head outside of the tower. He hated this place. He hated it. Shoving his phone and his notebook in the pockets of his vest, he prepared to leave. His departure was precluded by the ding of the elevator. Taking the neutral stance of hands in pockets, he turned to see Rainbow stepping out.

Greyson felt only his dull numbness. There was a reason he was representative of severed ties. For some reason, though, he didn’t feel the need to pretend otherwise this time.

“What’re you up to, Grey?” asked Rainbow.

“Not much. Heading out.”

“Yeah? Where?”

Grey shrugged.

Rain waited, but it seemed that was all he had to offer. “Well… can I come with you?”

Grey shrugged again, looking away.

Rain frowned. “You can say no, if you don’t want me along.”

“Okay. ‘No.’”

Her expression faltered, then darkened. “Why not?”

“Do I need a reason? You said I could say no.” Greyson watched Rainbow as she opened her mouth, then closed it again. Her jaw worked. “Guess I’ll leave, then.” In the heavy quiet, he tried to head to the exit. It was a strange tugging sensation at his joints which stopped him. His eyes rounded behind his spectacles, and he turned his head to look at Rain in silent question.

The one with colorful locks blinked wide, dark eyes. “If you’re doing something interesting, I want to know.” Her hand held tight to the strings binding Greyson. ‘Connections.’ ‘Bonds.’ ‘The strings of fate.’ It didn’t matter what you called them; they were just as restrictive. “You’re not doing anything special without me, are you?”

“No.” Grey’s voice was low and quiet. A helplessness began to settle. It would be easier to take Rain along. It would be better if he just didn’t even try. And what purpose was there again? His lips thinned.

“I just had lunch with Muse,” said Rain with a touch of sugar. “That was very nice.”

Greyson thought that perhaps that this feeling was one of jealousy. He looked at the ground, festering.

“Rodd gave us soda; it was great. It’s too bad you couldn’t come.”

You didn’t ask me, thought Grey. “It doesn’t matter anyway. Muse isn’t Muse.”

He could hear the frown in Rain’s voice. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What’s it to you? You’ll hold on to Muse either way. But it won’t fill your void. It never did. And it never will.”

Grey could almost feel the darkness that he knew would be in Rain’s eyes. Chilled and exhausted, he smiled. “I don’t know what you mean by that.” Greyson was silent. So was Rainbow. The strings were released, and he was free. Rain walked over to the couch, not looking at the other. “Whatever. Do what you want. I don’t care.”

The passive aggression and the quiet that followed weighed heavily on the grey-haired one. His smile faded. He sighed. He didn’t move. It felt pointless now; his motive had been effectively spoiled. All he felt was the dreaded nothing. It didn’t matter whether Rainbow used those strings or not, it seemed she held him just the same. His sheer nihilism was so thick on the lens of his perception, he saw no purpose in anything. This was why he was the breaker of bonds. This was why he was like this. And this was why nothing would ever change. And if nothing would ever change…

“I want to see you cry,” he said.

Rainbow had opened her laptop, and was watching the groups slowly convening on screen. She gave him a disapproving look, but he wasn’t looking back.

“I want to break you,” he said.

“You’re horrible,” she said, “you know that?”

“Yeah. And you’re a bad actor.”

She didn’t look pleased. She asked what he meant, but he didn’t answer. Maybe it was for the better. Greyson only stood and stared upwards at their ceiling. Took a deep breath, and let it out. He was made to break things. It was all he had ever known and all he would ever know. This was what his character was comprised of. It was his sole defining characteristic. He was literally made to be alone. Alone. Alone…

It didn’t matter even if he did find out the truth. It didn’t matter even if he did seek out the other masters who were trying to make the ending. He didn’t belong with them anyway. He wouldn’t feel the connections. He wouldn’t ever be a part of anything. Not Muse’s front, nor Aureus’s, nor the characters’. He just couldn’t feel a goddamn thing.

So then, why… why did it hurt this much?

Such potent isolation came upon him, and he felt the pain in his chest. He was frozen, and wanted to be broken. Someone, someone, please, he just wanted to be shattered, if only to feel the pain.

And in this moment of clenching in his chest, his racing thoughts and immobile tongue, he began to realize something. He was missing something, that was right, but how could he possibly miss anything without giving a shit? I was made wrong, part of him thought, but yet, there was also a voice that said, It hurts so much.

It said, I care too much.

He thought of something intangible: it was an image that could not have existed, where he and Durden and who must have been Muse would go on long drives when the sun was down and the stars were up. He thought of watching movies with them, bingeing television shows, quiet studying, deep conversations, and singing into the silence of the night. How dare his brain think of things that never were and could never be? Who was he? Who was Greyson?

The knot in his chest rose to a lump his throat. Trembling, he gripped tightly at his own arms and hunched forward as the heat burned his eyes and spilled over. He only allowed two thin lines to fall before he jerkily wiped at his face and forced himself to breathe, if irregularly.

“Your bonds are fake,” he managed to get out.

Rainbow was ignoring him.

“Your bonds are fake,” he said again.

She looked at him without expression. “Are you going to explain?” Her tone expressed her disinterest.

“You…” He straightened and tried to steady his breath before turning to her. “You don’t actually have connections. You aren’t the maker of bonds at all, because you don’t actually care. It’s you who’re disconnected, isolating others by severing their ties and holding onto the broken strings.” He spoke firmly and with increasing vehemence; his voice trembled subtly near the end, but he steeled himself and went on strong. “You seem to connect to others when in actuality you’re just trying to fill a void that you don’t know how to because you don’t know how to connect. I’m sick of your lacking eyes. I’m sick of your lacking everything. I just want to make you break because it means I’ll get something real out of you, and that’s not where I want to be, Rainbow.”

Rainbow did not speak. She looked at Greyson with her violet eyes, albeit dark. “Do you really think that?” She continued to use the same disinterest, belittling the revelation and making it sound false.

Greyson faltered, lips thinning. He was surprised he had spoken as he did at all, and he began to feel an electric thrum of anxiety settling in. He couldn’t feel his hands. His chest was constricting. “Yes,” he said, as firm as he could.

Rainbow looked back at her screen. “Your eyes are green.” A pause. “I can’t believe even you would say something like that to me. I can’t believe it.”

He felt the guilt coming on, and his lips thinned.

“But… Muse will take my side. You know that?”

That hurt. “Muse will. The real one won’t. They said so. And… proved it, too.”

“If Muse isn’t Muse, then where’s the real one?” Such skepticism.

“That’s what I’m going to find out.”

Without giving Rainbow the opportunity for another answer, Grey left, finding satisfaction in the way the door shut firmly behind him. As he walked briskly down the long underground hallway to the morgue, he pulled out his tiny notebook again. “Shintaro… A-ya… Shinichi… Nora… Yato. C’mon … I gotta do something right.”

Chapter 121: The Author

Chapter Text

Shinichi listened to the surroundings of his group as they headed south. It was quiet among the four of them – Celty being mute, Nora being the quiet watchful type, and Akise being introspective, none of them spoke much. After attaining some supplies from the store they had arrived in and putting it into a bag that Akise now carried on his back, they had started out. Akise had suggested that Shinichi listen for other groups and note their location so that they could find them more effectively – or avoid them if they posed a threat. He also asked that Celty and Nora be on guard. Being the only one who knew what these games were, Akise had become the unspoken leader of the group, and had gone over the defensive roles they would be taking. Shinichi would be gathering information because of his senses, so it would be Celty who was expected to respond first if they were still somehow ambushed. Shinichi would take the role of protector, particularly of Akise, the only human in the group. Nora, then, would become the ‘secret weapon,’ so to speak, sneaking up behind any potential enemies while Celty distracted them.

“However,” Akise had said, “let’s not jump to conclusions. I honestly don’t even expect any fighting to occur.”

Only then they had started out. Shinichi was amazed by how quiet the game field was. The way things sounded, it seemed like there wasn’t a single living creature here besides the players in-game. The only other evidence of life was the creaking of trees’ limbs and the rustling of grass, the soft sound of flower petals detaching and landing like a whisper. Though Akise had warned him of potential limitations to his senses, he could make out the sounds of four other distinct groups, so he felt like there must not be much difference.

One group, the closest, was talking about bonds, severing and reconnecting; memories and unfinished conversations. Another group was having light conversation: someone was talking about the colors of people’s voices; they spoke of the difference between love and ego, past and future, fire and ice. Yet another danced around the topic of hope and of heroes, the dynamic fueled by a warm banter indicative of closeness. The last spoke of conspiracy, of truth, and of reality.

He was startled when he heard his name. Not from anyone close to him, but from the group there. He wondered what it could be about, but the one thing that did seem to be limited was his capacity to make out full phrases. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes momentarily. It was strange, not having Migi with him. He still just couldn’t understand the sheer enormity of the situation. So many people from so many different worlds, forgotten timelines, lost relationships… Who could puppeteer a show like this? He looked at his right hand; opened and closed it; lowered it to his side again with a light sigh. Strange indeed. He thought perhaps he was lonely without his parasite. Ironic. He found himself hoping Migi would be awake again if they made it to the end of this. He wondered whether it would be just as unbelievable, or whether the parasite would merely shrug it off as unexpected but not outside the realm of possibility. Shinichi could hear both outcomes in his head, and just slightly, he smiled.

Oddly, the loss brought him comfort. It meant he actually cared to have the parasite around. He eyed the back of Akise’s head, and thought to himself that although he seemed somewhat suspicious, the silver-haired boy had something pure about him. Maybe it was his purpose. Despite the cunning look in his eyes, he seemed kind. For Celty, she too seemed benevolent despite her ominous appearance.

Nora… well, he didn’t know what to think about her.

But Shinichi found himself pressed with a sudden sense of companionship, not only with his three teammates but also for everyone else on the playing field. Every snatch of speech, the muted beating of their hearts, they felt close to him somehow. Maybe because they were all in the same situation, and realizing this gave him a sense of peace…

…For someone who no longer had a heart, he was being rather sentimental, wasn’t he? He couldn’t fathom why that might be.

Sighing, he emerged from his listening immersion (seemed that they were coming up on a group soon, but they didn’t seem malevolent) to attend to Celty’s cellphone, held up.

[It’s really rather strange, isn’t it?]

“Hm?” Shinichi blinked at her mildly, and Akise glanced back but did not pry. Nora observed silently.

She tapped Akise on the shoulder as well, communicating with all of them now as they walked. [You said you and some others already finished this game, is that right?]

“That’s right,” Akise confirmed.

[It just seems so strange.] … [I almost believe that all of this… the game, or whatever it is, is fake.]

Shinichi ran a hand through his hair, curious but lost. Akise’s interest was piqued. “What do you mean, Celty-san?”

[It’s all so unreasonable.] … [Could anyone really manage to bring all of us here? It feels like it could be a dream.] … [Some sort of fairy tale. Its own legend.] … [But we’re living it.] … [I guess I just mean that we shouldn’t be taking anything literally.] … [It’s almost as if it’s all a metaphor.]

Akise was smiling lopsidedly, pleased by such insight. “Ah, but a metaphor for what? That’s the real question, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know if I understand,” admitted Shinichi, smiling slightly out of sheepishness. “Is it that you’re saying that this is just too unbelievable to be true?”

“She’s saying that it’s more than unbelievable,” said Nora quietly. “Rather, it’s beyond possible. Even we… being supernatural, can’t see the logic.”

“But if it were some kind of allegory,” said Akise, “or not to be interpreted as it is, but as symbolic of something else… then perhaps we could derive some sort of meaning. Is that right?”

Celty nodded her helmet. [But I just can’t figure out the meaning.]

“Ah…” Shinichi brought a hand to the back of his head. “Maybe if we were to find a common thread through everything, then a meaning would emerge? Find the connections. Isn’t it connections that give anything meaning at all?”

“Mm.” Nora’s wordless answer was rather noncommittal.

“A very potent point made, Shinichi-kun,” said Akise. “I wonder about that. I think, too, that it could emerge from the patterns of action which the game masters take. If we can figure out the plot, the motive, then there would be meaning there.”

“Do we know any patterns of note?” inquired Nora, eyeing him. “You’re the one who knows the most, after all.”

Akise thought about this. The battle for existence, and the question of ‘reality’… He thought of the girl that had found him, after pushing the eight into the abyss. Anna. She had told him that she was reality; what could that mean? Reality; did that mean they were in a fantasy right now? It seemed so. What was the meaning of that?

He tried to recall all she had told him, and thought of the way the world bent around her to make way. “Who am I? I told you, I’m Anna,” she’d said, and giggled. “But I know what you mean. I’m also Reality.” She had led them to the top of the tower, selectively answering Akise’s questions and keeping her hands clasped behind her back the whole time. She almost moved to touch his arm once, but pulled back again before she’d made contact. He had assured her he didn’t mind it, but she was silent for some time.

“I say I’m ‘reality,’ but I’m not what I look like. I’m a contradiction in that way: my appearance is deceptive, but I represent truth. Isn’t that funny?” There was a pause, and Akise had puzzled over her words. “I’ve always been good at acting like someone else… but I guess that’s why I’m in the position I am. If anything’s true, I am ‘reality,’ but nobody likes me here. I can only hope that one day I’m accepted. Do you think it could happen, Akise?”

“I can’t say for certain,” he’d answered. “But if you are indeed reality, whose reality are you? And whose fantasy is this?”

Anna had only smiled. “Look at that, Akise, this is the door to the control center.”

In the present, Akise ran a hand through his hair and sighed. He thought of the unspoken rule, and the way L and Saiko had been said to die: due to speaking the truth aloud, they were scrapped.

“Perhaps there are no significant patterns to discuss?” said Nora, and Akise arched his eyebrows.

“No, no… I can think of one. A fantasy versus a reality… in which we are in the fantasy.”

[But then, who’s in reality?] asked Celty. [The masters?]

“That’s just it,” said Akise. “I think nobody is. And that’s the problem.”

Not far apart from them Group 6 was heading in the opposite direction. Having settled the tensions that arose when Yato first recalled the bit about severing Izaya’s ties, the four of them were now in urgent speculation on what it might mean that Yato might remember this. It was a rather helpful way of looking at it, questioning the mechanism of remembering rather than letting it lead to the questioning of Izaya. Yukine wondered if maybe the masters had been trying to repress memories that Yato should have as a god, but Yato explained that being a god probably didn’t grant him that privilege in the first place. Yato suggested that maybe the game masters were just trying to plant the seeds of conflict between them. Izaya half-agreed, but explained that maybe they were just trying to spice things up a little so their dynamic would spark, for better or worse. Yato responded by explaining they could keep up with the dynamic if Izaya wanted to, and promptly handed Izaya his hand-made business card for Yato, the delivery god, whereon Yukine sighed and rolled his eyes.

Shizuo was mostly just trying to keep up with everything going on, and trying not to be too irritable about the fact he wasn’t succeeding. “What if they’re just messing with us, and that’s it?” he said. “No meaning to it. Just them being assholes and making you wonder why the hell any of this is happening.”

“I suppose that is possible too, ah, Shizuo,” said Izaya, pocketing Yato’s business card to humor the god.

“You know, I’m already doubtful that any of this can be real, but the way you’re acting really makes it unbelievable,” said the taller blond. “I’m real close to believing you’re not Izaya.”

“Really,” said Izaya drily. “I’ve been coming pretty close to thinking that of myself too.”

“Hey,” said Yukine, “do you guys hear that? I think we might be getting close to somebody.”

“I don’t hear anything,” said Shizuo, disgruntled.

“Oh! Exciting!” said Yato. “Who could it be?” He hopped up on a rooftop to get a better view. “Hello over there!”

Yukine, Izaya, and Shizuo slowed to a halt, looking up at the god and rather wondering whether that was quite the best way to go about this.

“Right, never mind!” said Yato, and he hopped back down to his group.

“What?” said Yukine. “What do you mean, ‘never mind’?”

“I decided I didn’t want to deal with it,” Yato answered brightly.

“You’ve gotta be kidding,” grumbled Shizuo, while Yukine gave Yato a disapproving look. The two blonds looked at one another, then each grabbed one of Yato’s arms and dragged him off in the direction of the nearest group. Snickering, Izaya followed along, swinging his arms at his sides.

“Wait, waiiit Yukine,” cried Yato, “you might not like this group, I’m serious, maybe I don’t wanna do this whole alliance thing after all—”

“Oh, come on,” Yukine huffed. “It’s not Kuroha, is it?”

Though when they’d crossed over to the street parallel to them and could see the group in question, Yukine did understand. Right, he thought, his eyes darkening a bit. Nora. He tried to focus on Akise, who was far more important to their current goals.

“It’s good to see all of you,” said Akise welcomingly.

“Thank god,” said Shizuo. “Now I can feel less insane.” He gave a grateful nod to Celty, who acknowledged both him and Izaya with a slight nod of her helmet. Izaya appeared rather withdrawn, and only gave a small, unenthusiastic wave. Shinichi bowed politely to the group.

Yukine tried to ignore the way Nora looked at him and smiled, as if taunting him. “Isn’t this nice?” she said. “Look at all the reunions being had. Isn’t that wonderful, Yato?”

“Don’t even talk to him,” said Yukine firmly.

“Look,” said Yato, back to seriousness as he put a hand on his Shinki’s back, “I’m not going to use her, Yukine.” He looked to Nora. “And I mean that. Don’t think that this is going to be anything other than an alliance for all of us to get out of here. I won’t be calling your name.”

“Ah…” She frowned a bit. “A shame, really… But you know, it doesn’t seem like there will be much bloodshed anyway. You wouldn’t need to call my name like that.” She seemed oddly withdrawn in comparison to her usual self. Yukine wondered why, but then decided he shouldn’t think about it. Why would he worry about someone he hated, anyway? It was a waste of energy.

Yato, too, seemed suspicious. So Nora wasn’t proposing bloodshed? That was new. “Uh-huh… Right… well, uh…” He was admittedly thrown off by her acceptance of the general peace of their plan.

“What’s the matter, Yato?” she asked sweetly.

“She’s messing with me!” he accused, pointing in her direction. “She’s messing with me! Everyone’s messing with me! This is fake!”

“Yes, Yato,” said Izaya drily, “everything here is fake. Let’s try to figure out the next step, shall we?”

“I’d like to propose an alliance,” said Akise.

“See, it’s rather convenient,” said the informant, “because we were about to do the same thing.”

“So are we all a group now?” asked Shizuo dully.

“Seems like it,” sighed Yukine. “Akise, we really need to touch base.”

“I agree,” he smiled.


It was Light Yagami who had spoken Shinichi’s name as the partial-parasite had listened in. Light had been delineating the things he knew while he, Kaneki, Hide, and Akira walked west and out of the wooded area. The way he had implied the author needed to end the story struck up interesting conversation, and it had to be explained to Hide and Akira about the whole fourth-wall breaking scenario and why it was relevant. Kaneki was surprised Light knew so much on the matter, and had really started to wonder about what had happened to him after he had supposedly disappeared in the graveyard.

They were well out of the woods now, and approaching civilization beyond the field. Now that Hide and Akira were generally on the same page, Light could begin explaining what he knew in a tone of casual informativeness.

“Although there were eight that made it, last game,” he said, “the truth is that only four of you were of the intended eight. I wouldn’t worry too much, Kaneki, because you were one of the intended—but half of the final group last game were just replacements for players who weren’t supposed to die.”

Kaneki’s brow was furrowed. “Where did you get this information?”

It was unfortunately not quite time to be able to explain the details. Light did appear to be somewhat smug that he knew something no one else on the game field did. “As much as I want to explain everything, I think it would be most beneficial to relay as much pertinent information as possible. It’s a source I can’t reveal, because I know the consequences might be more detrimental than your doubt. I know I’ve done wrong in the past, but you need to trust me. We have the same interests in this game. We all want to make it out of here with our existences intact, don’t we?”

“That does sound like a good deal,” admitted Hide, but he was looking to Kaneki to see how he would gauge the situation. Akira, too, was leaning a bit on Kaneki’s judgment because he knew this mysterious boy better than her.

“We do seem to have the same goals,” Kaneki agreed, looking wary. “But what is the relevance of this?”

“Is it the reason there was reset?” suggested Akira.

“Not quite,” said Light, “but it’s definitely related. Listen; the author of this story had intended Yato to make it to the end. Yato, Celty, Shinichi, and Roppi were all characters intended to make it that didn’t. Seidou, Izaya, A-ya, and Yukine weren’t expected. They weren’t in the original plan. The relevance of this lies less in any suspicion we should have for the latter four, and more in how this calls the author’s will into question.”

Kaneki touched his chin, pensive. “You’re implying that Muse has a weakness? Someone who can veto even their decisions?”

Light’s lips thinned. “The… author… may have someone changing their intended directions. Someone like Muse.”

Kaneki’s eyes flickered in surprise. Something clicked.

Hide raised his hand. “Wait, so are you saying the mastermind isn’t the author?”

Akira was similarly befuddled. “What would have more power in a story than the author themselves? The publication companies?”

“This is fanfiction,” said Hide, “there’s no pay for this.”

Light frowned. He still was uncomfortable with the prospect of being in a ‘fanfiction.’ “Well, Hide is right about it not being any company.”

“Perhaps,” said Kaneki quietly, “that was what was meant by ‘Muse isn’t Muse’… but then… Light, is that what you mean? Is it that Muse isn’t who they say they are? If Muse isn’t the author, then who is? More importantly, who is Muse?”

“Ah, you see—”

“Oi, oi! A group over there!” The conversation was broken as Seidou Takizawa flagged them down from up ahead. “Great, great, exactly who I was hoping for! Except maybe Akira; I’m not ready for that shit.”

Kaneki’s expression softened. “Ah… Seidou and Shintaro’s group.”

Group 2 was back down to four members, as Ayano had disappeared after they were well on their way. Shintaro had a nice cry, and though the team members sort of tried to comfort him, somehow Roppi’s dull command to get over it and Seidou’s abrasive demand to pull it together and Konoha’s spaced-out “there, there” didn’t seem to help a whole lot. Still it was peculiarly nice to have most of the original group back together, and their dynamic, albeit strange, had kept him stable. Now they had at last come upon a group, and Kaneki’s group no less.

The groups met up, and an alliance was sort of immediately implied rather than discussed.

“We may have some important information that could be helpful to ending the game,” said Kaneki.

“Oh good, you seem saner than anyone I’ve got,” Roppi said with some annoyance, and Kaneki looked at him with an aching chest. He remembered the rain, and the screams, and wow, he really needed to stop reexperiencing everyone’s death scene whenever he interacted with someone new. Roppi seemed to notice his apparent trauma. “Actually, forget that. You’re probably screwed up too.”

“Uh, is that Light Yagami?” asked Shintaro faintly. He looked as if he were seeing a ghost.

“Nice to see you again, Shintaro,” said Light in his friendly way. “The same goes for you, Konoha… and you, Roppi.” Though his smile was slightly thinner when it came to Roppi. Light might have still been a little bit sore towards the red-eyed one.

“Who the hell are you?”

It seemed Roppi and Light would get along just as well as last time. Light’s mouth twitched. “I’m Light; pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Well, this is great!” piped in Hide. “Let’s all get to know each other—I’m Hide!”

Akira brushed a strand of hair from her face, trying to compartmentalize her feelings when dealing with an ambiguous situation involving a colleague who had supposedly died in battle a few years ago – not to mention he was acting very strange. “Akira. We should catch up with one another quickly and keep moving.”

“I totally agree with that,” said Seidou. “If we have anything sappy here, it’ll drag on too long. Also, it might make me sick.”

“Are you allergic to sap?” asked Konoha.

Akira’s brow furrowed while Shintaro sighed.

“I do agree that it will take too long,” commented Light. “Let’s walk and talk. We only have a matter of two scenes before the epilogue.” He probably wasn’t supposed to tell them that. “Oh,” he said, looking humored. “Perhaps I’ve said too much.”

“Wait, we what?” said Shintaro, looking pale.

“Well that’s either really good or really bad,” said Seidou brightly. “Let’s get a move on, then.”


Greyson walked the city with his hands in his pockets. It was so quiet. Despite his resolve in his scene with Rainbow, he was still uncertain of himself. What was right or wrong? What was he supposed to do? There was only one person he thought might have some solid answers, and he found him in the northern residential area.

Durden sat on the back stoop of one of the houses there, staring up at the sky, thoughtful in his dark way. The bright sky made his bald head shine. Greyson hesitated in his approach, pausing about a house-length away and shuffling his feet on the sidewalk.

“So you’re out of the tower, huh?” asked Durden, and Greyson froze for a moment before snapping out of his mental block and approaching the other game master.

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “How’ve you been?”

“Oh, pretty good.” He continued staring skywards. “Pretty epic that I can change the weather however I want. I could rain on anybody’s parade, or get myself a nice suntan.” His mouth twisted. “Do you think I should make it pretty when everything falls apart again, or should I make the weather match the feeling?”

“Contrast is fun,” commented Grey. “But a nice thunderstorm really sets the mood, too.” The cold tone and the obviously purple hue of Durden’s eyes made him nervous, not that he entirely understood the connection of color yet. What if he was wrong about Durden? He was going off of memories he wasn’t sure were his own, and feelings of friendship that felt foreign.

As he was dwelling on this, Durden spoke: “Your eyes are green.” The subsequent dread clutched again at Greyson’s chest. He couldn’t pinpoint the reason, but he felt guilty about it even though he wasn’t sure what it meant. It had to mean something.

But the words were not accusatory, and though Greyson didn’t raise his gaze, Durden merely went on to remark, “It looks nice.”

“Uh—yeah?”

Durden chuckled at his surprise. “So what brings you onto the game field? You gonna fuck shit up, or what?”

Grey flinched. He was sick of breaking things. “I don’t know if I feel like it.”

“Why not? It’s fun as hell, and there’s no consequence.”

He opened his mouth and closed it again. Maybe this wasn’t worth it. “I don’t think I want to,” he said, subdued.

“What’s the matter with you? This is a game; what’s the problem? You had fun with it so far, didn’t you?”

The tone threatened to shut Grey off, but he clenched his fists against the urge, shoving them deeper into his pockets. There was the fleeting thought to dance around the topic a little bit longer to test the waters, but his tongue would not cooperate and he spilled over with his words. “I don’t want to play anymore. There’s too much I don’t know, and it’s scaring me. I don’t even remember being out on this game field, or why we all know each other, or why we’re game masters, or what the point of this stupid game is. I want to end this—I don’t care about Muse. I want to remember who the author is. I want to see them. I need to feel them. I…” He paused, afraid of his next words. “I want the end. Even if it hurts. Because it needs to happen, and I don’t think we can go anywhere otherwise.”

Durden met his level gaze, his expression cool and inscrutable as ever. His visage refused to give away any of his thoughts. The silence following made Grey want to hide away. What was going through Durden’s head? Whose side was he on? Indeed, was he on anyone’s side at all?

After a few moments of staring at one another in all seriousness, Durden’s expression relaxed, and he broke eye contact. “I was wondering if you’d ever say that.” Suddenly he sounded so tired. “I’ll be honest, I wasn’t sure whether to expect it. Not that I can blame you. I hate reality too.” Grey was bemused, but Durden didn’t give an answer. “C’mon in,” he said, and Grey had nothing to do but follow the bald one as he led him into the house.

Grey was stricken with familiarity as he entered the place, and stood in the doorway for some time while Durden opened up his laptop, which was sitting on the kitchen table. “Was this your house, before?” he asked quietly.

“Dunno,” Durden answered. “But I don’t know much of what’s ‘truth’ around here. Not even about myself.”

After the computer booted, he signed in and began toggling through the camera views across the game field. They watched in silence as Groups 1 and 2 met up with Groups 3 and 5. Needless to say, 1 and 2 were rather shocked to find that they had just managed a strange alliance including Kuroha. Who would have thought it possible? Yukiteru, A-ya, and Rika seemed particularly happy to be reunited with Kaneki, Shintaro, and Seidou.

“It’s pretty amazing,” commented Grey, “…how they’re working together, you know. All of them. What a large group. Can people really unite like that?”

“Well, it’s happening, isn’t it?” asked Durden.

“Yeah, but I meant besides this game.”

“You mean in ‘reality’?” He crossed his arms over his chest, looking thoughtful. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything beyond this game, remember? I’m in the same boat as you.”

“Right.”

“Yeah. ‘Right.’”

There was a comfortable pause. Grey was still struggling to put together the missing pieces. So Durden, was he against the game after all, or not? Did he just not care? There was one thing…

“Why did you bring in Akise?” he asked the bald one.

“He was a plot device.” He chuckled a bit. “Akise was my tool to have some say in the game. I knew I needed one if I wanted to make any meaningful changes. The whole point was to get the attention of the author.”

“Huh?” Grey looked at him, confused. How did Akise accomplish that?

Durden took a deep breath, then let it out nice and slow. “This is a lot, so bear with me and listen all the way through.”

Now nervous, Grey nodded.

“The author stopped writing this story a long time ago. Muse has been running it since. When the author set out to make this into something cohesive, they planned on a certain ending. This ‘true end’ was the only way to end the game, and because they never wrote past a certain point, multiple loops were formed. It wasn’t until Muse tried to become the narrator that we got to this past route. What Muse didn’t realize is that becoming the narrator started the process of finalizing the story.

“I realized that now was my chance to make a move: that was Akise. The author’s intended ending included Kaneki, Shintaro, Rika, Yukiteru, Celty, Yato, Shinichi, and Roppi as the winners. I used Akise to set up Celty’s death, using Yato as the weapon. Because Celty was one of the intended eight, I knew it would get the attention of the author. They’d know something was wrong. Despite this being a finalized manuscript, I got one of the intended killed and another damned to meet the same fate. After turning against his allies twice, there was no way Yato’s sparing could be justified. So then, that opened the door to killing Roppi, then Shinichi, and finally Yato. I tried to get Yukiteru killed, but even though I got close, I didn’t win that one.

“The author had been hiding out this whole time, unable to do anything because the story was out of their hands. Even before Celty died, they were being concealed by Aureus while the author played along with the ruse.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” said Greyson. “Slow down. You’re not telling me Aureus is the author, are you? That can’t be right.”

“No, no. Let me finish.”

“Sorry.”

“Aureus concealed the author, as in, he used his symbolic bullshit to change the form of who the author really was. Even though they couldn’t communicate – and I haven’t actually talked to them, myself – there was a sort of collaboration going on. It’s the reason that Aureus sent Light to the graveyard. It was sort of like an offering—he wanted to give the author a character they could reclaim from Muse.”

“The author is in the graveyard,” Grey said blankly. “And that’s why… there’s no cameras there?”

“Yep,” he confirmed. “I made the graveyard myself as sort of a glitch in the system. Muse doesn’t want to see it, so they don’t. So—no cameras. Perfect, right?”

“Yeah… So…” Grey squinted in suspicion and perhaps some confusion, “…you’re trying to end the game. Right?”

“Right.”

“But why are your eyes still purple?”

His eyebrows arched. “My eyes?”

“Yeah. There’s… something going on with eyes—everyone has purple eyes, and I don’t know why…” His brow furrowed. “But Muse’s eyes are purple, and I thought mine were purple even though they’re apparently not…”

“This is all only about control.” He held out his hand, outstretched as if as an offering. “Muse can take it. Take their control; I don’t care. I’ll still do everything they want of me… and because of that, my eyes are purple. As long as I do my work in a way that humors Muse, I’m still doing what they want as far as they’re concerned. In the meantime, I also have my own will, and I act on it with intent to end the game.” Closing one eye, Durden smiled at Greyson. Grey was startled by the silver glow of his gaze, but after Durden looked away, pinched the bridge of his nose, and opened his eyes again, they were purple once more. “I’m plot. I can justify it, so I can switch the color of my eyes at will. It’s no different than putting on a mask.”

“Well that’s pretty cool.” Grey contemplated this a bit. Then, “Um, actually, what’s Rodd been doing all this time? He’s working with Muse, isn’t he?”

“He knows this needs to end, but doesn’t want to take action himself. He’s mostly just taking whatever comes passively.”

“Huh. Yeah, I guess that makes sense. I’m… sort of surprised I’m doing anything.”

“Me too.” Durden laughed at Grey’s heavy sigh. “But you’ve been doing stuff here and there. You weren’t aware enough yet; leave it. You’re still the reason Shintaro didn’t off himself way back in day five last game. Muse was so ready to have him go ‘XX Route,’ but you’re the one who stopped that.”

“Was I?” Grey fidgeted. “I forget.”

“You also did that thing with A-ya, Rika, and Izaya – in the woods, right after Roy died? If you hadn’t pulled some strings, A-ya probably wouldn’t have regained dominance, and Izaya wouldn’t have intervened in the first place. Rika probably would have died, and that’s game over right there.”

The grey-haired one didn’t say anything, tugging self-consciously at his kerchief.

“You were doing some stuff. It takes time to sober up.”

Grey tentatively nodded, watching the screens as Durden continued to toggle them. “So… okay… You and Aureus have both been doing stuff, then, huh? What about Seraph? She’s been helping too, and I…”

Durden chuckled again, if somewhat darkly. “Seraph seems pretty rebellious, but in the end she wants the same thing as Muse does. The only difference is that Muse likes tragedy, and Seraph longs for a happy story. Seraph talks about wanting to defy Muse, but she doesn’t want it to end either. She likes this place and these characters. Why the hell would she want to leave? We don’t even know if we’ll ever see beyond this game.”

Greyson’s nervousness became more potent. He began to fidget with his fingers.

“Hey.”

He looked over to find Durden looking back at him. Grey swallowed.

“Reality isn’t always so fun to look at. Are you ready to face it?”

It was a frightening thought. There was an urge to retreat back into the comfort of their never-ending cycle, and the dissonance threatened his capacity to hold himself together. His jaw tightened.

“No,” he said. “I’m not ready. But—I don’t think I’m ever ready for anything, so I’m gonna face it anyway.”

Crookedly, Durden smiled, clapping a hand to Greyson’s back. The bald one didn’t make eye contact, and Grey noted the emotion etched into the other’s fatigued features. This was a connection he could feel. Grey brought his own hand to Durden’s back as they looked to the screen. At this point, all the groups were beginning to convene. It was hard for the two large groups not to notice one another, and by the time they did, it was already a given that no one meant any harm. They merged, all twenty-four of them, into one large group taking a stand.

“There’s no way Muse won’t intervene here,” said Durden, and Grey felt a jolt of fear. What would Muse do to the two of them?

“What about us?” he spoke quietly. “Does Muse know?”

“Muse isn’t the omnipotent one anymore. Even if they do know, it doesn’t matter anymore. The author’s retaking their role.”

“Will we be able to see them?”

“I don’t know.” He paused. “Even if Muse is going to make a move here, the author’s going to have to do something too. We’ll let them get the ball rolling… We’ve been here too long. We oughta show up and be supportive.” Grey nodded, and Durden closed his laptop. “Shall we?”

While they prepared to set out, Rodd and Muse observed the mass conglomerate on the screens in their place at the top of the tower. Muse was in their swivel chair, a smile stretching their mouth. Rodd stood beside them, his hands in his pockets with his hat and spectacles obscuring his eyes.

Rodd knew that it was almost time for the end. He had savored every moment he’d had here, together with Muse. It was really a jolly old time; absolutely swell. It felt as though he’d spent years, and yet it still ached somewhere knowing that forever was coming to a close.

With him, Muse had all the time in the world. It wasn’t a lie. He’d given them an eternity. They’d flipped the hourglass over and over again, but it was high time to break the contraption and let the grains of sand go to the pitiless wave.

Yes… Rodd knew it was time.

“I’m going to go to them,” said Muse. Rodd stared hard at the screens, expression as inscrutable as it ever was. He knew that Muse leaving now would only ensure the conclusion. He also knew that advising Muse not to go would only delay the inevitable.

Adjusting his baseball cap, he answered, “Are you sure you want to leave the tower?”

“Oh, sure!” Muse tilted their head to him, grinning. “I’ll show them exactly why they’re wrong. I’ll show them exactly what they want. Isn’t that the best?”

He lowered his eyes, dull violet, to the ground. “Sure.”

“What’s the matter, Rodd? Aren’t you having fun?”

Out of his peripheral, he noticed Muse rubbing absently at the bandage on their arm where they’d been scathed by… something or another. Muse could never be scathed, and Rodd could only guess what could have managed it, or who. “I’m just thinking of the best way to get you there,” he said simply, pushing his glasses up and raising his head again. He held out his hand to Muse, and they looked at it skeptically. “If you take my hand, we can travel as if time’s stopped. You’ll be there in no time at all. Literally.”

Muse gave him a measured look, their mouth curling into a humored half-smile. “Why don’t I meet you there, Rodd?”

He closed his hand and let it fall to his side. Muse left. Time slowed to a stop for him and only him. For everything that Muse had promised him; for everything Muse longed for… It was a strange anomaly, he thought, knowing that Muse had created all of this to prevent their isolation and yet still chose to be alone.

Resigned, he sighed, all too aware of the pacing of the last few pages. He supposed he’d continue to savor every moment. For now, he needed to get moving.

He looked at the stopped clock. Well… maybe he could take his time.

Chapter 122: The End

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Among the players, there was much chatter. At first there was silence as soon as everyone had demanded a directive. The Eight were elected to figure out what to do, and among the Eight, Kaneki had been looked to for the role of speaking to the crowd. So he did, calling the other twenty-three to attention and explaining to everyone that they would be bringing this game to a close by refusing to play it. When Yato asked him what they should be doing right now, Kaneki decidedly said to just make the most of their time. (He did, of course, first have to collect himself after another vivid reexperiencing event regarding Yato’s redemption and demise.)

Now—make the most of their time? How did they go about that? There was an awkward pause among all the players; they looked around at each other. Some were none too thrilled with the plan (namely Saeru), but the first to break the silence was Twelve, who just started singing a nice, happy song, familiar to most of them. After some skepticism, Hide ended up joining in, followed by Yato, Yukiteru, and Suzuya. Rika smiled with warmth. This broke the tension among everyone, and people soon found themselves chatting in clusters:

Groups 1 and 2 constituted conversation between Kaneki, Seidou, Shintaro, Roppi, Light, Akira, and Konoha. Izaya decided to strike up conversation with A-ya, invariably starting conversation with C-ta too. Shizuo and Yukine both had some issues with the discussion at hand, and banter ensued between Yukine and Izaya while Shizuo tried to keep his mouth shut for the sake of not blowing up. Celty and Akise joined this group, and Shizuo was relieved to talk with them instead. Yato and Yukiteru rejoined this cluster as soon as the song was done, while Twelve struck up conversation with the impatient Minene and Suzuya tagged along. Rika, seeing Nora standing apart from everyone, considered her options before approaching the spirit and introducing herself. Despite Hanyuu’s nervousness, there was a certain warmth to their interaction, however peculiar. Hide returned to Kaneki and, noticing Shinichi wasn’t partaking in the mingling, dragged him along in the interaction. The three of them struck up their own chat while Roppi and Konoha discussed sweets and Shintaro, Seidou, Akira, and Light talked philosophy. Seidou quickly got uncomfortable (with Akira, mostly) and chose to bother Kaneki’s group instead. All through this, Saeru found himself observing everyone, a look of disdain on his face.

The mingling went on for some time. There was much gratification for the Eight and Akise in reviving dynamics that had disappeared some time ago. It all stopped at once, however, when the sound of the Voice resounded without apparent source.

Why, would you look at that! Isn’t everyone just having a lovely time? I’m glad to see that everyone’s come together.

Everyone quieted. They were waiting for something more, but nothing came. The pause was long enough that they began looking to one another again for answers none of them had. Whispering began.

“Do you think this has to do with what Ayano mentioned?” Shintaro inquired of Seidou.

Seidou frowned. “As in, we have to… what? Raid the tower?”

“Well maybe the death game’s actually implying that we kill the game masters,” suggested Roppi drily.

“I—don’t think that’s right,” said Shintaro, while Seidou snickered.

Konoha looked dazed as ever. “Well…” He paused.

Shintaro looked at him curiously. “What’s that, Konoha?” He was assured by the android’s participation, hoping he’d come up with a miracle idea, but was ultimately filled with trepidation when the albino looked at him with violet eyes.

“Well, isn’t this exactly what you wanted?” he asked.

“Huh?”

Roppi squinted. “Wait a sec—”

“What the hell do you mean, it’s exactly what we wanted, dumb android?” snipped Seidou. His expression went from irritation to shock as Konoha’s form began to melt, his violet eyes filling with inky black, spilling over and oozing from the corners, and from his parted lips as his head tilted back, his visage distorting grotesquely as he sank into an inky mess. “What the fuck?”

Shintaro looked disturbed. “I didn’t need that in my photographic memory,” he whispered.

“We’re all together,” piped in Hide. “Why speed it up? Like Neki said, we should make the most of our time!”

His eyes, too, shone purple. Kaneki took a step back as Hide began to melt the same way. Light was the only one of the group who didn’t seem perturbed.

“It’s fun!” said Twelve brightly, nudging Izaya while the informant furrowed his brow at the terrorist. Twelve grinned, his eyes and mouth running with thick black. “It’s great, isn’t it?”

“There are some things that can only happen here,” added Shizuo lowly, and both Izaya and Yukine were distinctly bothered as the same happened to him. “Why throw it all away? Why throw everything you’ve been through away?”

Nora tilted her head at Rika, her arms already dripping in dark puddles on the ground at her sides. “It’s not like anything bad’s happened. What are you running from now? Is there any need to change things as they are?”

C-ta laughed, and A-ya took a step away from him while Yukki’s eyes rounded as he listened to the words around them and watched people sink into inky black one by one. “This place is so much better than anywhere we’re from. We could spend forever here, couldn’t we? A-ya.”

A-ya opened his mouth and closed it again. He tittered, a laugh of discomfort.

“This is fucked,” said Seidou.

“Light,” said Kaneki urgently, “what is going on?”

“Just wait,” Light answered.

Come now!” said the Voice. “Without me, none of your friends would be here. They’d still be dead. I’m doing you a favor. Do you get it yet? Do you yet? If not for me, everyone would cease to exist! Do you truly long for oblivion so badly? Why would you want to send your close friends to the void?

“This cannot be so!” cried Rika. There were cries of protest from the rest, but Akise straightened as he caught sight of a different phenomenon: Minene, dissolving as if no more than a hologram. While many of the formerly-dead players had collapsed into thick ebony, this disappearance was completely different as people began flickering away as if they’d never been there in the first place.

Anna entered the throng of people, her pale brown hair hardly stirring behind her and much of the party dissolving in her wake. Her expression was stern. Akise, Light, and the Eight watched as everyone else disintegrated. Even the background appeared to run like watercolor. They were in a city, that could be told, but all the detailing just disappeared as if it were a dream, or viewed through a lens unfocused. There was nothing to look at. Just the Eight, Akise and Light, Anna, and now Muse.

There they were, Muse, standing apart from everyone, facing them all with straight posture and a nasty festering in their violet eyes. Rika tried to speak, but none of the players could make a sound, silenced by the lack of script. The air buzzed with the strange sensation of semi-numbness. Even in this detail-less landscape, existence itself still appeared to bend around Anna. As if she didn’t belong here, or perhaps it was everything else that didn’t belong.

“Thank you, Light.” Anna’s gaze never broke away from Muse’s. “I’m glad we could work together. Even if you’re sassy, you’re one of my favorites. I think that makes it more fun, anyway.”

Light had a look of mild annoyance.

“Muse.” Anna’s tone was gentle. “It’s time to write the ending.”

“What are you doing here, anyway?” Muse was sounding bitter, purple-glowing eyes narrowed. “You play no part in this story. You’re no character.”

“I had to become one.” Anna paused, glancing around at everyone. Her expression was wistful as her gaze passed from Rika to Shintaro… Seidou to Kaneki… Izaya to Yukine… Yukiteru to A-ya… Akise to Light. Her lips thinned, but her eyes returned again to Muse. “Do you really not know who I am?”

Their eyes flickered, and a hand went to the bandage at their arm. Their expression was guarded, defensive. There was a touch of fear.

“Do you really believe the backstory you created for yourself?”

“Every character has a backstory,” Muse snipped. “Don’t invalidate my truth.”

“Sounds like a lie to me.”

Muse scoffed. Character references didn’t seem to be effective right now. “I know what my truth is. You have no right to say my story is false. I’m the author, and I don’t want to write an ending.”

“People like you are the reason there is no happy ending.”

“I don’t want to end the only place where I can see the people that matter to me. Is that so wrong? Is it really so wrong?”

The emotion creeping into Muse’s voice didn’t faze Anna. “It’s always easy to say something’s wrong. Harder to find ‘right.’”

“Exactly! You have no right to judge me. I’m not guilty.”

“But responsibility is different from guilt.”

“There’s nothing to take responsibility for!” snapped Muse. “I’m doing more for them all than they know.

“If you were really acting for the others’ sake, you would not follow them into the same trap, but lead them out of it. Is that love?”

“I’m giving them what I want. I have all the ability in the world to do so.”

Anna shook her head. “It’s not about ability. It’s not about power. It’s about people. Nothing else.”

“Do you really think you have the power to do anything against me?”

“Faith cannot exist without doubt,” Anna spoke calmly.

“You don’t know what would happen next.”

“I’m confident in my ability to make the future.”

Muse was trembling with rage at this point. “Stop quoting characters and answer me as yourself.”

Anna smiled. “Isn’t that sort of hypocritical of you to say, Muse?”

Muse halted. Took an unwitting half-step back. “You…”

“Yeah… me. And you. I think maybe it would be best for me to explain exactly what’s going on to everyone. To you, if you’re really so deluded. To the characters caught up in this mess. And to the readers, so that all the loose ends are tied up.”

Muse clicked their tongue.

“Some of the story that Muse told was true. How else could it have sounded so genuine? I wouldn’t be surprised if they really did begin to believe it… Seraph really was the one who first inspired this story, but she never killed herself. Rodd’s dad got better; Rodd never moved away. Durden never overdosed, Rainbow and Greyson never died in a car crash, and Aureus wasn’t murdered. The author did know all these people in real life, but all of those proposed endings for them are just another dark fantasy to add to the chaos here. They didn’t lose them to mortality or physical distance – they lost them to fantasy. Rodd was the only exception, lost to time. Seraph and Rainbow were too far consumed by their immersion to maintain connection. Aureus was deluded by pain and paranoia. Durden and Greyson, like all of them, despised reality and tried anything in their power to leave it all behind. To leave the author behind.

“This story, these characters; they were the author’s fantasy for a long time. Of course they wanted to include all their close friends – if they could make a world that these people wanted to see, then maybe they could keep these friends forever. Eventually, though, the author was able to return to reality on their own.

“On the other hand, there was Muse. Muse was the desire to write. Muse was the drive. Muse was Character. Muse was Fantasy. The author being someone who could take on many roles, it only made sense that Muse, Character, would find so much in common with the author. So Muse took on the author’s role and became them: stole their very image, capitalized upon their story and made it their own… The author loved the color purple. And much as a character can develop beyond a writer’s intent, Muse became sentient and took on the author’s character. In so doing, they took on full control the moment that the author stopped writing things out. The story was character-driven; the characters ran the show. Muse is every character, so it stands to reason that they had the ability to maintain their seat of power for so long. And in taking on the image and color of the author, the author couldn’t even insert themselves the same way to reclaim the story. They had to take on a face that wasn’t their own, with a new color to represent them.

“Muse knew that this story was the only reason they existed. They’re lonely, so they built a world that never ended where there was always fun to be had and peers to connect with. Muse constructed Seraph and Durden, Rodd and Aureus, Rainbow and Greyson, all in an attempt to assuage that loneliness. The only master had ever been Muse, but just like Muse developed their own will, the characters created by Character began to develop their own sense of self, too. That’s why some of the masters have started to rebel, and also the reason they will never remember their true identity: they’re just characters based on people that Muse never really met. They’re echoes. They’re perhaps less real than the players are.

“And you know… the truth is that I’m lonely too. I still don’t want the fantasy to end, even now. I don’t want to write the ending. But I know I have to, and I need to take on the responsibility of letting go of the friends I’ve made, however indirectly it may have been.” Here, Anna began to approach Muse, who was paralyzed with what might have been fear, or what might have been anger. “It’s sort of sad, having to leave things behind. You and I are more alike than either of us could admit, and I sympathize with your disconnections even though there’s much you’ve done wrong as this story’s antagonist.”

Muse backed up as Anna got close, too close. “Don’t touch me,” they spat.

“It’s okay,” said Anna, taking their wrist and forcing their stillness as she used her free arm to embrace Muse. The players still solid weren’t sure how it happened or at what point the image shifted, but Anna and Muse had taken on the same form, the same face, height, and features – save for the violet eyes, which for Anna had become magenta.

“Who are you?” Muse said again, weak. Their image was unstable, wavering as if in the haze of heat; a mirage.

“I’m who you imitated, Muse. Anna was just the name of a girl who never slipped into fantasy the way we did. She’s the most solid person I know. Didn’t you remember that Durden had another daughter? Or was it omitted from your knowledge because she wasn’t a part of the fantasy?”

Muse opened their mouth and closed it again. It was they who was featureless now, their flesh falling away to reveal only that dark silhouette, tapering off into purple like the holograms that once greeted groups at items pillars. Was that really all there was to Muse in the end?

“Muse,” said the Author, “a story never dies. It’s not like you’ll cease to exist when I close this Word document or post the final chapter. Because this story’s been written, it exists timelessly, even if the writer doesn’t live it anymore. The same goes for the experiences we have. Even if one era of our lives ends, it doesn’t mean those times are dead. It just means that it isn’t our present anymore. I’m savoring this present now even as I type these words, because I know it’ll be over soon, and that’s… that’s sad. It is.

“So many things are fleeting. Goodbyes are necessary. We all move on. But sometimes…” The Author turned to look beyond Muse, and smiled at the images of Durden and Greyson, waiting. Durden offered a two-fingered salute while Greyson flashed a nervous grin. Laughing lightly, the Author continued, “Sometimes you’ll have the opportunity to have experiences that last longer, and connections that persist.”

The Author turned to the Eight, Akise, and Light, looking sorrowful but resolute. The players had varying expressions on their faces, from dim confusion to enlightened hope. “I’m sorry for taking so long. Every one of you has suffered for plot’s sake. From here, if I write an open ending, you can make a future for yourselves.”

Their eyes shone; their smile bittersweet. “Thank you. Every one of you are closer to me than you will ever know. I hope you carry that with you in your own realities.” They laughed, but it came out choked. “Congratulations,” they said, then cleared their throat.

Congratulations!” they said in the Voice, in a warmer tone than Muse’s had been. “You’ve made it to the end of the game. Every one of you has been granted existence.”

Everything began to fall away. Throughout the game field, the rest of the masters sensed the end. Gritting her teeth, Seraph covered her ears and willed it all to stop, while Rainbow just shut her computer with dark eyes. Rodd took his place once more beside Muse, who took his hand for the first and only time as they both dissolved into oblivion. Aureus could hardly believe they’d made it, but emerged from the underground and closed his eyes blissfully in the face of the sun he hadn’t seen in what felt like four years. The Author gave a nod to Light, a smile to everyone else, and joined Durden and Greyson as everything came to a close.

With a snap, the sun had set and all was dark. It was like night had swallowed the earth and there wasn’t a single star in the void to show the way.

They’d really reached The End.

Notes:

To those of you that have read this far, I thank you sincerely. It's been a long ride, but we've made it to The End.
But things aren't over just yet! There's one more installment - I will be posting the Epilogue next Saturday.
I hope to meet you there.

Chapter 123: Epilogue

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Kaneki stirred, opening bleary eyes to find he was curled up, fetal position atop his bedsheets. He blinked slowly as his eyes came back into focus. What had just happened?

He sat up, running a hand through his white locks. He needed to shower. When was the last time he did that? What day was it? He was so disoriented. Of course he knew where he was: the bed he awoke in, the dresser, the hockey mask on the wall; they all told him he was in his bedroom at the secret base. The secret base…

Shintaro… Seidou… Rika… Izaya… Were these real names? Had something so vivid really been only a dream? Perhaps it had to be, with how impossible it seemed. Hide… Touka… Real or not, it hurt dreadfully. He brought a hand to his chest, clutching at his shirt while he gazed emptily downwards. What was he to do now?

He was startled from his thoughts by a light rapping on the door, and he stared in stupefaction when the purple-haired, flamboyantly-dressed Gourmet entered the room, gently closing the door behind him. “It’s nice to see you sitting up,” said Shuu Tsukiyama, bringing a hand to his chest. “I was worried for you, Kaneki-kun. I’m sorry for intruding, but I thought a chat, perhaps, may cheer you up…”

The half-ghoul stared at his (debatable) friend for a good thirty seconds. He’d been so distraught by the loss of Touka and Hide that he’d hardly been able to process the loss of Tsukiyama. Ah, but had he ever lost them? “Do you remember anything?” he asked the Gourmet, who looked confused.

“Remember what, Kaneki-kun? Do you mean the raid?”

Ah, that’s right. That was what had just happened; the raid on Dr. Kanou’s lab. And Kaneki, he had stabbed… Banjou. His memories between the incident with Banjou and the incident with Shirazu half-melded together, holding equal amounts of distress and self-blame.

Tsukiyama must have noticed the look of guilt, because he sat down beside Kaneki and placed a comforting hand at his back. Kaneki was too shut off to tell him not to touch him. “Listen, it’s important that you not take too much blame, understand? The strong devour the weak… There’s no shame in being strong.”

Kaneki supposed he was trying to be comforting, but he could hardly compute it right now, and honestly it wouldn’t have helped him any even if he could listen to the Gourmet properly. Tsukiyama kept talking, in fact, but by now Kaneki was just too far in his own head to make out a single word he was saying.

Abruptly, Kaneki stood up.

“Kaneki-kun?” Tsukiyama was rather surprised.

“I need to go to Anteiku,” he said. “I need to see Touka. I need to see Hide.”

Tsukiyama didn’t appear to have an inkling as to why Kaneki came to this conclusion, and stared blankly for a moment before saying, “Well. If that’s what you want, then—”

Kaneki was already heading to the door. The Gourmet stared after him. Kaneki only poked his head back in to say, “Get out of my room.”


“I’m sorry.”

Akira Mado was looking with mild confusion at Seidou Takizawa, who was bowing to her and saying such uncharacteristic words out of nowhere. What’s more, he had arrived to work today looking disheveled and distracted, with no tie or blazer to his work attire. Something was clearly very wrong.

When Seidou finally raised his head, annoyed by the stretching silence, she only looked back with dull eyes and no expression. “You should get help,” she said.

He gritted his teeth. Was she serious right now? After all he went through – or at least felt like he went through – just to finally muster up the courage to apologize to her, she dismissed him as if he needed to get checked out at a shrink? His eyebrow twitched. “You ungrateful…”

She was already walking away.

He tugged at his messy short brown hair, his jaw working to himself as he thought, I’m not gonna throttle her; I’m not gonna throttle her, over and over again.

“What’sa matter with you, Takizawa?”

He scowled at Suzuya, who was now peering at him with his too-wide eyes and blank stare. “What’s it to you, Suzuya?”

The albino laughed airily. “Aw, am I bothering you, Takizawa-san?”

“I am made of bother and spite!” he snapped, and Suzuya blinked bemusedly. “Mado is a bitch, you get on my nerves, and I don’t even remember why I joined the CCG in the first place! This place is shit, the world is shit, and I’m regretting ever coming to work today.”

Giggling, Suzuya twined his fingers together. “You probably shouldn’t say that at work, Takizawa-san. You might get in trouble.”

“You think I care?”

“Umm, yeah, I did think so.”

“Well think again, because I have reached the point of not giving a fuck.” Turning, Seidou began to stalk towards the exit to the building.

“This is fun. I’m coming to like chatting with you. I never would have expected that.”

“Yeah,” Seidou huffed. “Me neither.”

All of this angered speech had drawn the attention of the volunteer investigative assistant, Hideyoshi Nagachika. Adjusting his red-and-white worker’s cap, Hide approached Seidou. “Hey, you having a rough day?”

“I’m having a rough delusion. What about you?”

“I’m alright.” He paused. “A rough delusion?”

His tone was bitter. “Yeah, I don’t suppose you remember a stupid death game that lasted more than a week and was maybe even more ridiculous than the prospect of being experimented on by a psycho doctor who wants to turn people into ghouls. No? Doesn’t sound familiar? Didn’t think so. You oughta find your buddy Kaneki and talk to him face-to-face. He needs it.”

Hide was startled. He frowned. “But Takizawa-san, my friend has been missing for months now.”

“He’ll come around. Probably. Unless I’m insane. Which is just as likely, so it’s a fifty-fifty chance.”

“Did… something happen, Takizawa-san?”

“Apparently not,” he scoffed. “I don’t know what the hell happened, and I don’t want to talk about it. The CCG is whack. I bet they’ll start hiring half-ghouls someday. Wouldn’t that really be something?”

Hide was at a rare point where he was lost for words. He seemed to be trying to grasp what Seidou was talking about, but this time it was beyond him. Was Seidou trying to imply that Kaneki should become a CCG officer? Wait. Did he know Kaneki was a half-ghoul? There were too many questions that he just couldn’t ask. “That sure would be something,” he agreed.

“Damn right! Hey Hide, do me a favor and tell the others I’m going home for today. If I stay too much longer I’m 99% certain I’ll get myself fired. I need to go have a crisis. Thanks.”

“Uh—yeah? I mean, sure…” Hide watched in bemusement as Seidou stalked out of the building. Rubbing at the back of his head, his brow furrowed deeper.


“Master; Master!”

Shintaro didn’t stir in his bed. His form was concealed beneath the covers, and his wonderful AI, Ene, was trying to act as his alarm again. He didn’t want to get up. What was the point? He’d been slammed with nihilism the moment he woke up in bed and realized it was August fourteenth again. He was likely to be in the exact same position as before: a time loop for decades on these hot summer days. Why participate? He remembered countless routes, now. And not to mention… perhaps he’d had a twisted dream about another loop and another reality.

Even if that dream were true, why would it matter? Here he was back in his own realm apart from the friends he’d made, and it wasn’t like anyone here would remember what he did. It was exactly the same as it had always been. Maybe there was no escape.

His sinking thoughts were disrupted yet again by the clamoring of Ene, and he turned over and glared at his desktop computer across the room. The pixelated figure of black and blue had set off the surround-sound speakers. “Ene, I really don’t want to deal with this right now. You’ll bother my mom, and—”

“Maybe you should get up, then!” she answered, presumably with her hands on her hips, hovering in her virtual realm behind the screen.

He rolled on his back, bringing his hands to his face. “I’m not feeling so great today, okay? I’ll get up later.”

“You never feel great.”

“Well I mean it this time. Lemme just be not-great for a little bit. I’ll function later.”

“That’s a bold statement from someone who—”

Please, Ene, I’m serious this time. I know I’m a good-for-nothing shut-in that should do something with his stupid, worthless life, but I really need some quiet right now.”

“Master, with that attitude—”

“I’m mourning someone, okay?”

The quiet settled. It wasn’t like he was lying. He was overwhelmed by too many losses right now, and Ayano was always included. He just had more baggage than he thought, and well, he’d never given any indication of why he was a shut-in to Ene. Still… knowing now that she was Takane, his former classmate, it made things a little bit easier to talk about. That might be weird. Also, interacting with way more people than he probably ever had in his life, and actually having some heart-to-heart conversations… that sort of thing made it easier to mention something he never would have otherwise.

He thought maybe he had shut Ene up for good, but his phone buzzed beneath his pillow and, when he looked at the screen, he found the pixelated girl on his phone screen instead. He eyed her pigtails of light blue and conceded the resemblance to his old classmate, however different their personalities were. “What are you doing on my phone?” he asked dully.

“Dwelling over the past won’t get you very far,” she answered, uncharacteristically quiet. “You shouldn’t be focusing on that sort of thing.”

Shintaro sighed. He heard talking downstairs, and figured his sister had come home and was probably chatting with their mom. “I know. I’m just really discouraged right now.”

“About the fact you’re a virgin hikkiNEET, Master?”

“Not really, but thanks for rubbing that in, too. I really don’t want to talk about it. I need a break.”

“A break from what? You haven’t done anything at all for the past year at least.”

He rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Give it a try! I’m a pretty smart AI.”

“No, I’m pretty sure you just wouldn’t get it.” He heaved another sigh. “I should probably just be a shut-in forever. Dunno why I thought it would be any other way…”

There was a sudden rapping on his door, and Shintaro jolted at the harshness of it, sitting up in bed to respond as he muted his phone to ensure Ene’s temporary silence. “I’m sorry!” he cried, practically instinctual. “I know the alarms were loud; I shut them off, though, so…”

The doorknob rattled, and Shintaro’s eyes widened. What had he done wrong? “Shintaro Kisaragi, unlock this goddamn door before I break it down.”

He froze, heart skipping a beat. That wasn’t his mother. Confusion quickly metabolized into dread. Throwing his phone to his pillow, he swung his feet over the side of the bed, slipping on his red slippers and shuffling quickly over to the door. Shintaro unlocked and opened it to be face-to-face with Seidou Takizawa, looking disheveled but otherwise okay – and human at that. And real. He was real. That was huge.

“S-Seidou?” For all of the weight that had bogged him down this morning, he had a moment of relief. “I can’t believe—”

“Did I just hear something about how you should be a shut-in forever?” he snipped, brown eyes narrowing. “I thought you agreed to stop being a shut-in.

“Oh.” Shintaro laughed nervously. “Um. About that.”

“Shintaro, I swear to god.”

“I-I didn’t mean it! I can… go outside…”

“Great. Then you won’t struggle.”

Seidou abruptly dragged him out by the wrist as Shintaro dug his feet in. “W-w-wait! My phone! I’m wearing slippers! I’m in my underwear! Seidou—!”


Izaya Orihara sat in his swivel chair at the desk at one of his apartments, his dark eyes scanning through headlines and news articles and maps of Japan on multiple screens displayed before him. It was August fourteenth. Upon waking up this morning, the informant was filled with a healthy amount skepticism towards the dream he had had the night before. Rarely did he have dreams so vivid or long, and some of the events and thought processes had him questioning his own character.

The plain doubt of its reality had him quite ready to act as if nothing had ever happened in the first place, but there was a certain exhaustion weighing him down that couldn’t be ignored. That never happened to Izaya Orihara. Maybe he was more disturbed by that dream than he thought.

Or, well, perhaps it hadn’t been so simple as a dream. Scrolling through news websites and scanning interactions on group chats online seemed to point in that direction. If the endless headlines for ghoul attacks was any indication—or the spontaneous existence of new cities like “Mekaku City” and “Sakurami City” that Izaya didn’t remember existing, or ‘new’ research articles about something called the “Hinamizawa Syndrome” from back in the 80s… Well, Izaya was faced with quite the anomaly indeed.

“We’ve been granted existence, hah?” He leaned back in his swivel chair, the picture of placid intrigue even though there was a trace of dread beginning to grow in his gut.

What if Yato had severed the ties he had in his reality? How much was real, or fake? And how much had carried over?

“If I’ve learned anything,” he uttered to himself, “I probably ought to make some changes around here.” He weighed his options. “There’s no way I’m contacting Shizu-chan,” he snickered, but Twelve came to mind. The way the terrorist reminded him of an old friend named Shinra nagged at him. Izaya had made the brazen claim that Shinra was his first friend to Yukiteru. Even if everything from that ridiculous game were erased, it was still true that there had been some events to transpire that would have feasibly made Shinra angry with him. It was also true that Izaya had never been one to reciprocate something like ‘connection.’ Izaya loved humanity, yet loved no one. Not specifically. Maybe it was high time he start doing… well, something. He didn’t know what.

Pretending this was perfectly normal of him – which it was, to some extent – Izaya pulled out his cellphone and called his friend since middle school: Shinra Kishitani, a peculiar underground doctor who was madly in love with the Dullahan Celty Sturluson. Shinra had a certain detachment from humanity that Izaya had been jealous of, and yet he had the capacity to care so strongly for Celty. For Shizuo, and for Izaya. Somehow.

Izaya was startled when he heard Shinra pick up: “Um, Izaya? Hello?”

The informant promptly hung up on him. His lips thinned. Well, that was silly of him. Ah, well he knew that Shinra remembered him. Izaya tried again, calling and waiting only a single ring before Shinra picked up again.

“Izaya, I really don’t want to deal with your pranks, so if this is one of those, you can just hang up again.” His voice was characteristically cheerful despite the scolding nature of his words.

Izaya laughed a bit, though there was a touch of nervousness. “No, no! It’s not like that, honest.”

“Okay, well then what do you want this time?”

“Well, see… hm.”

“Hm?” There was some skepticism in Shinra’s wordless question. Izaya thought it would only make sense that the doctor suspect Izaya needed something from him.

“I wanted you to join me for dinner,” Izaya said matter-of-factly. “We can go out to have hot pot, on me. You can bring Celty-san if you so desire.”

“You want me to… Wait, what?”

Izaya laughed again, giddy at the surprise. Maybe this sort of confused reaction was fun, too.

“What’s the catch? Do you need coverage for something? You’re not planning to meet up with some Yakuza again, are you? You’re not framing me for something I didn’t do? I don’t want to be involved with any of that.”

“No, really! Have a bit of faith, Shinra! I only intend to share some time.”

“I’m having trouble believing that.”

“Trust me, I’d feel the same way if I were you.” He chuckled again, but then dropped the note of humor and fell into a tone of tired sobriety. “It’s strange, but there are no tricks this time. If you’ll allow it, I hope to meet you for reasons other than convenience or circumstance.”

“…” Izaya only heard soft white noise in the background for a few seconds, and his lips thinned. He heard a sigh. “Is something the matter, Izaya? This isn’t normal.”

“What? No! Nothing’s at all the matter!”

“Well, how’s tonight? I was going to have dinner at home, but I guess it doesn’t much matter. I’d like to capitalize on this opportunity for a free meal while it lasts. I half-expect you to change your mind by tomorrow. You sure there’s no catch?”

“The catch is dealing with me for at least an hour of your time,” Izaya answered drily.

Shinra laughed heartily. “I think I can manage that!”

They set up the plans and ended the conversation. Izaya felt distinct dissonance as soon as the call was over, but he didn’t put away his phone just yet. Pulling a suspicious business card from his pocket, he considered calling the number on it. Snickering to himself, he began punching in the numbers.


Yukine walked the sidewalks of Tokyo beside Yato, expression dull and distracted. Yato wasn’t going to remember any of it, but Yukine was certain that the vivid death game had happened. Maybe it would be best if Yukine just did his best to forget it all. He wouldn’t be much help to Yato if he was dwelling on something that was practically erased.

“I heard rumor there’s a new god,” said Yato, sounding sour about it. “They’ve already got a plot of land in Takama-ga-hara,” – that was, the heavens – “…even though they only came around more recently.”

“You’d better up your game, then,” said Yukine.

“I’m trying!” he cried. “I need a shrine! I need one!”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll get one soon enough.” Before his master started whining more about it, he shifted the subject back. “But what’s the new god supposed to be like? Have you met them?”

“No, I haven’t,” he huffed. “Apparently they’re a god of ‘time and space.’ What kind of god is that? Maybe somebody started praying to the stars or something similarly stupid.”

“Is that really so stupid?”

“It’s stupid because I want people to worship me!”

Yukine sighed, knowing he was about to go on another piteous protest against his lack of popularity and lack of shrine. Luckily, the Shinki was spared by the ringing of Yato’s phone.

The god immediately perked up at the sound of a customer, answering his phone with cheer. “Yato the Delivery God, how can I help you today? …A wish, you say? Absolutely!” In a flash of blue, Yato teleported Yukine and himself to the caller, and Yato snapped his phone shut. Yukine was less surprised to find himself standing on someone’s desk and more surprised to see Izaya Orihara grinning slyly at him with humor flickering in his eyes. “How can I be of assistance?” asked Yato brightly.

Yukine’s eyes rounded. “Izaya?”

Yato looked at his Shinki. “You know him?”

The informant merely leaned back in his swivel chair, looking pleased with himself. He flicked a five-yen coin into the air, and Yato swiftly caught it. “Could you make me some tea? Black, unsweetened. You’ll find everything you need in the kitchen over there.”

“Your wish has been heard loud and clear!” Yato hopped off the desk, eagerly obeying the command for the sake of a five-yen coin.

Yukine would not so easily be distracted. “Izaya, you—you’re—we’re—”

“I am, and we sure are,” said Izaya, wearing his thin smile. “I intend to be a regular customer from here on. Your master here has some of the best rates I could ever get. You think I could wish on him to get Shizu-chan to have a full conversation with me without trying to beat me to death? That would really be something. I might have to pay him double if he can manage it.”

Izaya, this is… it’s great!”

“Can you get off my desk, though? I’m going to have to clean it now. Well—I could wish Yato would clean it instead.”

Yukine shook his head as he got off his desk, standing in front of him now. “I can’t believe this. Are you gonna make him your maid or something?”

The informant appeared to consider this. “Maybe. I really would like to keep Yato around somehow. You think he can grant immortality?”

Yukine rolled his eyes. “No, it doesn’t work like that. Do you know if anyone else shares a reality now? Were we always in the same realm?”

“I don’t think we were, but it seems like we are now. Ghoul attacks and CCG promotions are all over the news online, not to mention new cities spawning and the sudden existence of gods.” He flicked out Yato’s business card as if as evidence. “I guess I can’t go claiming atheism anymore.”

“Oh, jeez. So… you mean to say, all of the eight might exist then?”

“That’s what I’ve conjectured so far.”

“We really should try to get the eight together then, don’t you think?”

“Oh sure, sure.”

“Yukine!” He turned to look at Yato, who had called him. “Just don’t scare my customer away, alright? How do you know him, anyway?”

“It’s sort of a long story. But hey, Yato? There’s gonna be some people I want you to meet sometime.”

“And consider yourself to have another customer who won’t forget you,” added Izaya, looking humored.

Yato looked more on the side of ‘suspicious.’ “Hah? Do I know you?”

“Even if you forgot me.”

“It’s sort of a long story,” said Yukine again.

Yato scoffed. “I’d believe it.”


A-ya stood in front of a café that had recently opened up, directly across from an all-too-familiar hospital. It had been so long, but it was one thing he could remember clearly enough. He dropped his red-eyed gaze and decided to enter the shop, gripping the strap of his satchel, slung over his shoulder. He had the same bags beneath his eyes, but now he was taller, the school uniform replaced with plain clothes and a short-sleeved button up to match the warm weather. He was twenty-three years old.

After some hesitation, he chose to sit next to a woman at the front counter, sipping at tea. Her long, pale blue-violet hair was pulled into a loose ponytail. A-ya didn’t make eye contact with her.

“You look familiar,” she said to him. Her voice was soft and kind.

“I get that sometimes,” he said quietly. “I’m a journalist. Maybe that’s why you know me.”

“I don’t think that’s it. A-ya, you’ve grown up a bit.”

He looked at her, then, eyes widening marginally at the name drop. She smiled at him with wise eyes. She looked, perhaps, to be in her late forties. She too looked strikingly familiar, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why. The fact that it was in this café was just too uncanny, and he tried to sift through the memories he’d tried to scrap nearly ten years ago.

“Rika? Is that you?”

“That’s right,” she said. “You must have made it out of your cycle too.”

“Yeah…” He tried to let it sink in. To think, after so long, he may have found someone else from back then to exist. He tried to be patient, but nothing had happened. He’d been trapped in a game with a fox that he didn’t remember much of, but in the end the cycle had been broken. A-ya tried to find the others. He wished to find a god or demon with all his might, but received no answer from neither heaven nor hell. He visited Sakurami City and managed to find Yukiteru Amano, but this Yukiteru didn’t recognize him and A-ya ultimately scared him off by approaching him from nowhere with such excitement. Yukki probably thought A-ya was stalking him; what cruel irony.

He did still have C-ta to depend on and B-ko to spend time with. A-ya made every attempt to appreciate them after knowing how it felt to experience loss. He tried not to think too hard on the things he knew he was capable of, or the things he knew C-ta was capable of. There was no way he could stand the future any other way, and yet he still found it so terribly difficult knowing there was so much he’d lost anyway. What sort of cruelty was it to allow Yukiteru to exist but not remember him? They did exchange numbers and had a chat every once in a while, but they never hit it off quite the same way as they had under the circumstances of that game so long ago. A-ya was convinced that he was placed in a realm where he could find the others but was forced to reconnect with them in his own way, as it was only he who remembered. Discouraged, he didn’t seek to find anyone else.

He finished school with C-ta, B-ko, and D-ne. He became a journalist, blogging about urban legends on the side. He kept a journal recounting his days with the Occult Research Club, and the faded memories of a reality left behind. Even if he felt he should pretend none of it had happened, he still told stories of the legend of Muse, come to life from the words of an author possessed; the legend of Deus Ex Machina, a god who could live inside a person’s mind; the legend of the Clearing Eyes Snake, the sentient being borne of the first Medusa…

Four years ago, when he was nineteen, he’d been approached by a kindly couple – the Tateyama family, or something of the like. The woman had warm brown eyes and two red clips in her hair; the man wore red-rimmed spectacles and a lab coat. A quirky couple if A-ya had ever seen one, but he supposed that he and C-ta were a strange couple too, so there wasn’t much he could say. They’d apparently been interested in some of the work he’d been writing about online, particularly anything he might know about the legend of the Medusa. He gladly shared the tale with the two, excited to have an audience so enraptured by it.

A year after that had transpired, the man had come back alone. He looked so very tired, but still he smiled and thanked the ravenette. A-ya swore the man’s eyes flickered red, but perhaps it had just been his imagination.

Nothing since then had been at all suspicious, and ultimately A-ya had returned to a life that he struggled to find meaning in. It was all so dreadfully boring, and even though he had resolved to find his happiness in this boredom, it was difficult in the midst of it. Find peace in the mundane everyday, and take joy in contentment. He tried to do that, spending time with C-ta and B-ko and D-ne even now to avoid isolation even though he still fought with his loneliness.

Yet this café somehow existed, and here was Rika, memories and all, if in an older form than she had been. It almost suited her better. “My loop was surrounding events that transpired in 1983,” she said to him after he ordered his tea. “Even when I succeeded in finding a true ending, I knew it would be a while before I was in the right time period to meet any of you. I don’t even believe that you were alive at the time, A-ya.”

A-ya considered this. “Mine was in 2010…” He crossed his arms, bringing a hand to his mouth as he thought. “You don’t suppose, then, that the rest of us have been integrated into the same reality after all, do you?” He was as monotone as he had ever been. “We just had to wait to catch up to the others, maybe…” Ah, but then there was the anomaly of Yukiteru Amano. A-ya had found him, and they had been just about the same age, still. Why wouldn’t he have remembered?

“I wasn’t able to sleep one night,” she said, and A-ya looked to her in mild curiosity. “I wandered to the shrine in my little town to find some peace, and you know what I found? A stray god was sleeping inside, without a shrine of his own. I accidentally woke him, but I surprised him by seeing his form there. I was very polite, and offered to make him tea.”

A-ya furrowed his brow just slightly. Was she telling a story about who he thought she was?

“We got to talking for some time, and he told me his name was Yato. Can you believe it? He didn’t remember me, of course, but I hadn’t expected him to. It was maybe… 1985, by then. I was twelve. It was such a pleasant chat, and over the years he would come back on occasion. A night one year, and then a whole month of another. I would sometimes not see him for longer periods. He was greatly surprised by my capacity to remember him. I think that’s what got him to decide to come back again and again. It was really rather nice, but I could tell he was haunted. I don’t think that he’d met Yukine yet.”

A-ya quietly thanked the server as his tea was served, his gaze set to the counter. “I found Yukiteru, too,” he said, “but he didn’t remember me.”

“Was he of the right age?”

“Yeah.”

“That is strange,” she commented. “I had suspected that I may find the rest of the eight in the future, but truth be told you’re the first one I’ve been able to meet with. Yato was the closest I came to finding evidence those games ever existed, and he stopped coming to my shrine some years ago, now. He probably thinks I’ve forgotten about him.” She paused, thoughtful. “I was also threatened by Nora at some point, so it might have had to do with that too.”

A-ya shook his head. “You’ve had more excitement than I have.” He tried to think of more to say. He had gotten better at socializing the past nine years… but… only a little bit. He still usually let C-ta do the talking. “What are you doing in the city instead of your town?”

“I had felt that the time had come to visit. Finding you tells me that I must have been right.”

He thought on this. “I see…. How has Keiichi been?”

She smiled. “Oh, he’s doing alright, that is so. And C-ta? B-ko?”

“C-ta is still C-ta,” he answered. “B-ko is doing well, too.”

“I am glad.”

They drank tea together, and it was well. They conjectured what may have happened to the others, and to the players not of the final eight, and to the game masters, and to the author. After a nice long chat, the two left the café together, both happy to have found someone to solidify those bygone days in an unnecessarily extended battle royale story. As they left and began walking down the sidewalk together, they were interrupted by a voice behind them:

“Aha! I found you after all!”

They turned as a boy still fourteen in body glided to them in a flowing cloak of black; his thick, dark hair grew past his waist. His eyes glowed a deep blue. Both Rika and A-ya were beside themselves with astonishment to see who could only be Yukiteru there. Though his cheer had become a bit more reserved, there was no mistaking his voice.

“Yukiteru,” A-ya got out, and Rika smiled that same warm smile.

“Long time no see,” she said.

“No kidding,” said Yukiteru, and without warning he embraced the two of them, defying gravity just so he could hold them with his arms over their shoulders. “I’m so happy to know you exist. I really thought—I’d never see anyone again.”

A-ya thought to say ‘me too,’ but was silent. He merely returned the gesture, bringing a hand to Yukki’s back and closing his eyes. It wasn’t until Yukiteru released them that they began to have conversation.

“So what’s with the getup?” asked A-ya in his dull way. “Are you a god now?”

“He must be,” said Rika, “I can sense it.”

“That’s right,” said the boy now from the Far Shore. “I’m god of time and space! It’s sort of complicated, but I was actually god for another universe before I found my way to this one. There’s another me around here somewhere—I had no idea that making the Third World would become the basis for us to meet again.”

A-ya’s brow was furrowed. So that explained why Yukki hadn’t recognized him. Yukiteru was a god now, then? And, Third World? Another universe? He had so many questions to ask. “So you’re saying you have a doppelganger,” was what he said instead.

“Yeah, pretty much,” he laughed.

“How fun.”

“What have you two been up to? How long has it been? I’ve been losing my mind for at least a century… aha…”

“A century?” A-ya asked blankly. He felt as though his nine years had been nothing in comparison to either of their wait periods, now. He couldn’t tell whether the feeling was comforting or invalidating.

“For me,” said Rika, “it has been thirty-six years, at least by calendar. I think how long it’s been differs depending upon what time period we’re from. This may be especially true for people experiencing their own time loops.”

“Wow, that’s right,” Yukiteru remarked. “I wonder how Shintaro’s doing…”

“A-ya, is that you?”

The three of them turned to face Ken Kaneki, clad in the same attire as he’d worn in-game. When the half-ghoul saw the faces of the other two, his one visible eye widened marginally. “Yukiteru? And are you… Rika? It seems as though… some time has passed?”

“Kaneki,” Yukiteru said brightly. “You look as if nothing’s changed.”

He blinked. “I, well…” He touched his chin. “I thought I’d had a dream last night… but strange things have been happening all day, and I’m coming to think it was a bit more complicated than that. If visitation from a god wasn’t proof already, I must say the three of you are.”

Yukiteru was blank. “Wait—last night?”

“It must be because of the time loops and designated years,” said A-ya. “All our realities merged, but if we had somewhere specific to be… or rather… sometime specific to be, then we had to live up until this point before we crossed paths with anyone else of the Eight. If Rika was from 1983 and I was from 2010… well, here we are.”

“If I may, Kaneki,” said Rika, “what do you mean ‘visitation from a god’?”

“Right,” said Yukki, “and what else has been strange?”

“Ah.” Kaneki smiled his Mona Lisa smile. “When I went to a coffee shop I know well, Anteiku, I found Seidou Takizawa there. That alone was odd, but he had also remembered everything… It couldn’t have been just a dream, having shared the experience with someone I’d never met otherwise. He wanted me to spend more time, but I had business to attend to—we had planned to meet here. Seidou found the place online and noticed that it was a copy of a café that had existed in the Emina Games. Even though Tokyo is unlike that city in every other way, for some reason this café is here, as if implanted. We figured that anyone else of us might think of it as the perfect meeting spot to convene with other past players…

“After I had attended to what I needed to, I had also been stopped by Yato.” He ran a hand through his white hair. “It was a curious thing. He claimed that his client wanted to find me, and while I would normally find it an unnecessary risk, under the circumstances I accepted. I thought perhaps it might have been another of the Eight trying to contact me. I considered Yukine, but I don’t know why he wouldn’t have just asked me himself… It was strange enough that he wasn’t with Yato.” He shrugged. “There’s a lot to be speculated. I don’t suppose any of you wished upon the Yato god to meet with me.”

“No, but I’m a god now,” Yukiteru offered.

“Oh.” He tilted his head slightly. “Congratulations.”

“I didn’t do it either,” said A-ya. “Rika?”

“Not I.”

“Well,” said the half-ghoul, “I told Yato to have the person meet me here at the same time I had planned to meet Seidou, so I suppose we’ll find out. I’m happy to have been able to meet up with you. If you’ve been waiting a longer time… then… I apologize for the wait.”

“That is not your fault,” said Rika.

“Just how it is, I guess,” said Yukiteru. “I could try and fix that if you wished, but it would probably just make things more convoluted—so I wouldn’t suggest it.”

Kaneki half-laughed. “I think I’ll refrain.”

“Ah,” said A-ya, “maybe it was Izaya.”

“Oh, you think so?”

“Hey, hey!” Izaya Orihara, with Yukine at his side, approached the group of four. “Kane-kun, what a wonderful coincidence!”

“Ah, I see,” said Kaneki. “You’re probably right, A-ya.”

It was Izaya and Yukine’s turn to be greeted warmly. The six of them caught up with one another, reexplaining why A-ya and Rika were older than they had been and why Yukiteru was an actual god now. Yukine and Yukiteru were excited to make the connection that they would both be fourteen years old for eternity. There was hope for an ageless friendship for the Yukis from here on. A-ya exchanged contact information with Izaya right off the bat, knowing he would be a handy informant to have as a journalist and harvester of urban legends. Rika and Kaneki both took a moment to appreciate the fact everyone was beginning to come together. All they needed to make the eight, then…

“Oi, what’re you guys doing loitering around outside the café?” The voice was unmistakably Seidou’s, and when they spotted the brown-haired officer, they found he was dragging Shintaro with him by the wrist. (Luckily for Shintaro, Seidou had allowed him to dress himself for the outside world before heading out.) “C’mon—let’s grab the largest table there is and be a pain in the ass inside the shop.”

He’d made a good call, and everyone headed into the café (including A-ya and Rika, despite having just begun leaving) to sit down at a table for eight. Shintaro caught up with Rika, amazed by the fact she’d grown up in what was to him just the blink of an eye. Seidou remarked that hitting ‘FastForward’ was far more jarring, and the NEET had to concede his point. Both Seidou and Shintaro were welcomed by the others. Izaya remarked that he was glad Seidou got Shintaro out of the house at all, seeing as the latter was a shut-in. Though Seidou and Izaya still didn’t quite get along, all of the dynamics between everyone were generally positive.

“Just as a heads up,” said Yukine, “I told Yato he was going to have to meet all of you once I realized you were all in the same realm. He’s granting someone’s wish right now, but he’ll be around.”

“I’ve actually met him,” said Rika, “quite some time ago.”

“Oh, really? Huh… I wanna ask you about that later.”

“Of course.”

“I also got to interact with him briefly today,” commented Kaneki.

“I-I sorta wanna see if people like Roppi exist in this realm,” said Shintaro.

“It would be lovely, too,” said Rika, “if we could introduce each other to other previous players that were originally from our own realms.”

“Like me introducing you guys to Yato?” said Yukine. “Hey! Maybe I can introduce Hiyori, too!”

Rika smiled and nodded. “I think it would be nice… to meet Minene again.”

“I do wonder how C-ta’s doing,” commented Yukki.

“And I wonder about Akise,” said Izaya. “I don’t suppose he remembers.”

“I’d like to meet Shizuo again,” said Yukine, “but I really don’t expect Izaya to accomplish that one.”

“Maybe we can try and touch bases with Shirazu, too,” said Shintaro.

“Aa… And Konoha,” said Kaneki.

“And… perhaps… Suzuya,” said A-ya, while Seidou scratched his head as he contemplated how to get that to happen.

“Akira too,” added Kaneki, and Seidou just groaned.

“I dunno if I can stand making too many connections, here,” said the unkempt CCG officer. “But—I guess I’ll try.” Shintaro patted him awkwardly on the back, and Seidou frowned at him. Laughing nervously, Shintaro withdrew.

“That said,” said Yukiteru, “we should all keep in touch somehow. Maybe we can have weekly meetings or something—is that too lame?”

“I think it would be a nice change of pace,” said A-ya, “at least until we adapt to it and our weekly meetings becomes part of our ‘mundane.’”

“Thanks for the gloom, A-ya,” Shintaro sighed.

Izaya seemed humored. “Didn’t grow out of that, huh?”

“No,” said A-ya. “I think I am a pessimist in my heart of hearts. A liar, too.”

“At least you know yourself.”

Kaneki tried to get the topic back on track. “I think it would be nice to meet weekly when we can. There are eight of us, so surely if some of us are busy we can still continue on. I know I have some personal things to attend to now that I’m back, and I don’t know where they may take me.”

Seidou rested his chin on the palm of his hand, propped up on the table by his elbow. “Yeah,” he said dully. “And I need to ‘die’ within the year, so. You know.”

“You could always… not do that,” said Shintaro, but Seidou waved him off.

“What would have happened if I weren’t taken in as a prisoner of war? I don’t know whether things would be better or not. And even if I go through hell again, at least I’ll know what I’m in for this time. I’m sort of looking forward to fucking with the assholes who’ll torture me.”

“That is rather interesting,” said A-ya. “Just the prospect of jumping back in time… and having a second chance.”

“I sorta know the feeling,” said Yukiteru drily.

“Right.”

“I think it’s just amazing to know that you guys had to wait so long.” Yukine directed his words to Rika, Yukiteru, and A-ya.

“Time doesn’t make sense to me anymore,” said Seidou.

“Me neither,” sighed Shintaro.

“How long did you have to wait, Shintaro?” asked Yukiteru curiously.

“Oh, uh—not long.”

Rika nodded her head slightly. “It must be that his time loop ended lastly, so we all appeared at the end of his. Is that so?”

“Um…”

“Oh, well isn’t that a lucky deal?” scoffed Seidou. “I guess I’m glad I didn’t have to wait long either. I’m not as patient as I should be in this timeframe.”

“Well, I guess I’m glad too, even though it sucks for some of us who had to wait,” said Yukine.

“This must be it,” said Yukiteru. “That ‘open ending’ the author spoke of, where we’re free to make our futures. All the time loops are done, and we’re here to determine what comes next.”

Shintaro was looking increasingly uncomfortable with the conversation.

“I mean,” said Seidou, “I don’t know how much say I have in the future that’s already written for some of us. Like, wasn’t Kaneki supposed to fake-die and become amnesic or something?”

“Right…,” said Kaneki, running a hand through his hair.

“Who knows,” said Izaya, “maybe I’m fated to be killed by Shizuo.”

“If you haven’t changed from the beginning,” frowned Yukine, “then you might deserve it.”

“Hah, you’re right about that!”

“Um,” said Shintaro, his voice timid and quiet in his effort to speak up. “Guys?”

“Come to think of it,” said Yukine, “I don’t think I’ve faced Bishamon with Yato yet to become a Blessed Vessel. So that’s something that probably needs to happen, too.”

“Well,” said Yukiteru, “maybe you can rewrite some of that future if you really want to.”

“Seems like some of you are still earlier on in your timelines even though others have completed their story arc, so to speak,” said A-ya.

“Yeah—about that,” said Shintaro.

“What is it, Shintaro?” Kaneki was gentle with him.

Everyone looked to the red-jerseyed one, and he gulped, nervous. “S-so… um… When I woke up… uh… a-as far as I know… We might actually… still be in my time loop…”

There was a lengthy pause. Shintaro’s mouth was dry, his lips numb. Talk about being the bearer of bad news—and he felt like it was entirely his responsibility.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” said Seidou.

“Oh… oh dear,” said Kaneki.

“Joy,” said Izaya drily.

“W-well,” said Yukine, “maybe this is the last loop?”

“Will we even remember if there is a loop, though?” said A-ya dully. “Does it matter?”

I’ll remember,” cried Shintaro.

“If it is ongoing,” said Rika, “I don’t think it is our choices that would determine the cycle’s end.”

“But my choices do matter,” mumbled Shintaro. “Probably.”

Seidou huffed. “If we’re trapped in another loop because your shut-in self hasn’t figured this out yet, for fuck’s sake, I’ll—”

The protest was cut off by the sound of ringing laughter. Though it sounded terribly similar to the laughter of Muse, it was lighter, and without a trace of ice. As the Eight looked to the source, there stood the form of ‘Muse,’ smiling at them in the doorframe of the coffeeshop. “I’m glad to see that everyone’s come together,” they said. “Just wait until you make it to 2020!” With that, they left the store without another word.

It was Yukiteru that spoke up: “Well, if it is another loop, Shintaro, know you have us for support even if we don’t remember.” There were some sounds of agreement among them.

Shintaro smiled weakly. “Thanks.”

Yukine was staring at where Muse had been—or rather, the Author. Not Muse. “Guys, does this mean we ‘exist’ now?”

“I guess so,” said Seidou, “even though it doesn’t feel any different.”

“Maybe all it takes to exist,” said A-ya, “is for someone to know about you. Even if someone in another realm were unable to prove it, we would be in a state of both existing and not, as with Schrodinger’s Cat.”

Izaya arched his eyebrows. “I prefer to just concede that we exist now.”

“Indeed,” said Rika. “We feel real to ourselves and to each other. Our reward has become sharing our existences on the same plane. The ability to be, together.”

Yukiteru smiled. “And even the people who didn’t win and have the opportunity to share the same realm, we can know that they have their own realm to exist in. Even if it’s not real to us, it is for them, and maybe that’s what counts.”

“Ah,” said Shintaro. “I’ve gotta say, this is one of the lengthiest crossovers I’ve ever seen.”

Kaneki chuckled. “Regardless, we should try and enjoy it. Maybe it’s alright… to make the most of our lives, and live just to live.”

“Cheers to that,” said Izaya, and they raised their glasses of coffee, of tea, and of soda together. A toast to connections. A toast to the plot which brought them here. A toast to the reality they would have to face from here on. And a toast to the fantasy that we needed to leave behind.

Notes:

For those who read this, thank you for following through with this journey to the end! I hope that it was as enjoyable for you as it was for me.
Reality can only be neglected so long. Perhaps we'll meet again one day in another realm, another fantasy. Until then, take care!