#wheezes and keels over and dies
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anywhere is good enough as long as it’s with you
#vash the stampede#nicholas d wolfwood#vashwood#trigun#trigun maximum#khyt.art#wheezes and keels over and dies#hiiii
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his "oh" moment ☆ enha hyungs
☆ non-idol! enhypen hyungs x fem! reader
☆ summary: the exact moment that your enha boy realized he loved you.
☆ genre: fluff, down bad boys, very domestic and intimate, can be interpreted as either pre-relationship or established relationship, wtv u want :)
☆ warning(s)? no, theyre all just so atrociously down bad
☆ word count: 1.3k total
heeseung just came back from a little run to the convenience store for snacks. when he asked you if you wanted to come with him, you only smiled and said that you'd stay in his apartment to watch the boiling pot of ramyeon that you were preparing.
it was 3am when he ventured out into the cold, night air, pulling his hood over his ears. as the bag filled with all of your favorite drinks crinkled under his fingertips, heeseung slipped his housekey into the keyhole, sniffling softly from the cold.
as he cracked the door open, he was met with warm, orange light, warm air, and the smell of his favorite ramyeon.
"i'm back!" he shouted from the door, slipping his shoes off. you didn't hear him, so he just made his way into the kitchen.
the sight he saw before him was enough to make heeseung's heart skip a beat.
there you were, humming quietly to yourself as you graced his kitchen. lost in your own world, almost like the only thing that matter to you in that moment was the small pot of hot ramyeon, the same one that you always made when you were with him because you knew that he loved it. the way his kitchen lights shone down on you made you glow, almost like you were a saint to be venerated.
the sound of heeseung's breath getting caught in his throat caught your attention.
you turned over your shoulder, and the moment that you eyes met his, you expression melted into a smile— the one where your lips lifted so that he could see your teeth, your eyes forming thin crescents as your nose crinkled— the smile that heeseung swore he saw in his dreams.
"welcome back, hee," your voice greeted him.
as those words tumbled from your lips, heeseung's eyes widened into saucers as his heart dropped to his stomach.
he wouldn't mind hearing you say that to him everyday for the rest of his life. the thought of him coming home to you everyday, seeing your pretty, smiley face as you said his name, made heeseung light-headed, his face becoming the same color as the red broth of your ramyeon.
shit.
jay didn't think what he just said was really that funny.
it was a small, off-hand comment that he made, a mere remark that was miniscule in the grand scheme of things.
but the way that you keeled over yourself, your eyes squeezed shut yet tears spilled out of them, gripping onto the table as you laughed, told him otherwise. you struggled to form words, constantly cutting yourself off with laughter, wheezing so hard jay was worried that you'd stop breathing.
the sound of your laugh was like music to his ears. jay couldn't help the small, dumb grin that began to bleed onto his face; it started with his chest filling with warmth, rising up his neck, to his ears, and finally his lips. one corner of his lip raised slowly, before the other one did. his lips wobbled, watching you as you wiped a tear from your eye, until he couldn't hold it back anymore, and the smile that he tried so hard to swallow back unraveled across his features.
"st-stop!" you cried as laughter erupted from your chest, throwing your head back. you cheeks were beginning to hurt, but jay's words kept reverberating in your head. "i-i'm gonna pee myself!"
that's when jay laughed.
"shut up," he said, but no matter what he did to push the sound of your laughter to the back of his head, there was nothing he could do.
his cheeks were already too red, his heart already pounding in his chest like a drum, this memory already cemented into his head.
and plus, he already made up his mind: he could get used to hearing your laugh everyday.
or even better, he wouldn't mind being the reason for your laughter.
jake had no idea how his brother did it, how his brother managed to have a kid and not snap into a million pieces.
but as you held his infant nephew, cooing at his small hands and chubby cheeks, jake felt his entire world pummel to his feet.
"hi baby!" you cooed to the child, your knees folded below you as you helped jake babysit his nephew. when the baby babbled back, soft and sweet giggles fell from your lips, you laid on your back, holding the baby over you.
you gently rocked the baby in the air, relishing in the way that it let out small and high-pitched giggles.
jake watched. the way your touch was so gentle, pulling the child to your chest as you cuddled with him. your tenderness was so... soft. so soft that it made jake's brows furrow together, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip, in order to hide the look of pure stupid that was threatening to seep through his expression.
you were so warm, so kind, so affectionate, that it made jake feel all mushy inside, like he was going to evaporate.
he sucked in a sharp breath, trying to keep the palpitations in his chest at bay, trying to keep the ache in his heart from consuming him whole.
"i didn't know you were so good with kids," he said to you, kneeling beside your figure that embraced his baby nephew. his tone was half-teasing, but jake knew better. there was a war raging on in him, and frankly, he wasn't going to win.
the more he watched you, the more everything became clear to him.
maybe he wouldn't mind having kids, if it's with you.
sunghoon had a strict sleep schedule, one that he would do anything to protect.
as his phone illuminated his bedroom, the blue light gleaming so bright that someone could go blind, and as that godforsaken ringtone shook sunghoon awake, he thought that he was going to punch someone.
but the moment his half-asleep eyes traced the letters of your name, his finger darted to answer your call, no questions asked.
"hello?" he rubbed his tired eyes, yawning, yet with no intention of going back to sleep. after all, it was you.
"hooooon," your voice slurred on the other line. he could hear loud music in the background.
"are you drunk?" he asked, worried. his brows crashed together, concern bubbling in his chest. "where are you?"
you laughed, the sweet sound almost making sunghoon feel at ease. "at the cluuubbb."
"shit," sunghoon muttered under his breath.
"don't worry about me!" you reassured him. "not drunk.... hehe!"
sunghoon was already grabbing his coat and keys, slamming his front door.
it was only when you snuggled up against him in the backseat of his car, pushing your cheeks into the crook of his neck and clutching his arm, that everything came crashing down on sunghoon's shoulders.
it was a quiet realization, like the small light that had always been glimmering inside him suddenly flickered on. it was no surprise to him: a silent and hushed wave of fulfillment crashing onto the seashore that was his heart, before fizzling out into white seafoam.
his eyes traced your features under the dim light, taking in the faint scent of your perfume.
you muttered his name, reaching out for him, and all he could do was feel his heart throb for a few pulses, before sucking in a sharp breath and letting a curve form on his lips.
"i'm here," he said quietly into your ear. "i'm always here."
#enhypen#enhypen fluff#enhypen x reader#enhypen imagines#enhypen fic#heeseung#heeseung lee#heeseung x reader#heeseung fluff#heeseung imagines#heeseung fic#jay enhypen#jay enhypen x reader#park jongseong fluff#park jongseong x reader#park jongseong fic#park jongseong imagines#enhypen jay#jake sim fluff#jake sim#enhypen jake#jake enhypen#sim jaeyun#jake sim x reader#jake sim imagines#sunghoon fluff#park sunghoon#sunghoon x reader#sunghoon imagines#star-sim
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chapter two of promises kept is up!!
[link to full chapter here]
In a way, it almost feels like they’re under house arrest again. All of the other students come and go as they please, and are all kept plenty busy participating in the restoration efforts. Every single one of them is needed somewhere: whether it’s clearing debris, building temporary shelters for unhoused people, or working to keep people fed and clothed, they all have somewhere to be. Izuku and Katsuki have to wait for the doctor’s approval before participating in any strenuous activity and every single one of their friends has been informed to keep an eye on them to enforce this.
Aizawa comes down to lecture them about not leaving campus, either. Apparently they’ve gone so viral that the media is hounding the school for any word from either of them, and any sudden appearances could send the press into a frenzy. Aizawa advises that they stay indoors as much as they can. Which is fine. Katsuki is surprised that he doesn’t really mind being forced to stay inside and out of sight. He supposes nearly dying forces you to relax about small inconveniences like that. And besides, Izuku has a million ideas of how to keep them occupied.
“Do you remember this game?” Izuku asks, eyes bright with excitement as he boots up his ancient GameCube. They have it hooked up to the TV in the common room and are getting ready to play now that breakfast is finished.
“I remember you suckin’ at it,” Katsuki allows. Izuku glares at him and he screws up his face in indignation as he chucks a throw pillow at Katsuki’s head. Katsuki deflects it with his elbow, grinning.
“Well you’re going to help me beat it,” Izuku says, huffily. He hits Start and selects the first save slot titled ‘BKDK.’ Katsuki’s eyebrows shoot up into his hair.
“Is that our old save file?” he asks, incredulously.
Izuku sends him a bashful look. “Maybe.”
“Sap,” Katsuki accuses, but he settles on the couch right next to Izuku, so close that their thighs squish together. Izuku hands him a controller with a smug little grin.
It takes them an embarrassing amount of time to remember how to use the controls, and they end up having to start a new game altogether to replay the tutorial and refresh themselves. Soon enough they’re laughing and cursing at each other.
“You’re doing that shit on purpose!” Katsuki roars. The Game Over screen blares at them meanly.
“I’m not, I’m not!” Izuku cries.
“That’s the third time you’ve died right there!” Katsuki protests.
“It’s hard!”
“No it fucking isn’t! Watch this,” Katsuki says, snatching the controller out of his hands.
He scowls furiously as he tries to concentrate, but he’s uncomfortably aware of Izuku’s eyes on him. What the fuck? Dumbass should be paying attention to the screen so he gets this platforming puzzle right. Here comes the tricky part now, all Katsuki has to do is dodge the fire-ball, jump over the gap and—
And he dies in the exact same spot Izuku did. In the exact same way. Izuku laughs so hard that he keels over and rolls off the couch.
“Okay, maybe it’s hard,” Katsuki mutters. Izuku chokes on his cackling, going red in the face and wheezing.
[READ MORE]
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Where The Stars Collide - Chapter 1: Loke
AO3
Summary: Loke has a dream.
tw: mentions of abuse.
prologue | 1 | 2 | TBC
The first thing Loke the Celestial Spirit noticed was that his pants were missing.
Now, this on its own wasn’t too alarming. In fact, he’d go so far as to say that it was a common occurrence early in his playboy-days, where he habitually drowned his guilt in women and liquor– but rarely did he stir from such a night with a hospital gown in its place.
He woke exactly like he’d collapsed; violently and without warning, his eyes flying open the same time as his lungs heaved for air.
“AQUA– HAH–– HAH–– AQUARIUS–“ he gasped out, bolting upright in the infirmary bed much to his nurse’s horror; cat-like pupils dilating under the fluorescent lighting.
“Shh, it’s okay, Loke. Loke, look at me.”
The second thing he noticed was that his nurse looked a lot like the love of his life: renowned celestial mage and once-heir to a multimillion-jewel corporation, Lucy Heartfilia.
“Lucy?” He wheezed.
“Mhm,” the nurse’s blurry face swam across his vision but he’d recognise that sunshine-blonde hair anywhere.
“Don’t over-exert yourself okay? Master Makarov said it would take you a few minutes to adjust to Porlyusica’s healing elixir since you’re part celestial spirit and all.”
As Lucy gently took his his face in her hands Loke felt his breathing regulate and panic recede, gasps giving way to steady respiration as she eased him back against the wooden bed-frame.
By the time she’d replaced the cold towel on his forehead, Loke had recovered most of his eyesight and found himself clearly staring into two large, worried brown eyes.
He bit the inside of his cheek to not let something embarrassing (like I love you) slip out; Lucy didn’t really respond well to advances, his or others, and the last thing he wanted to do was make her uncomfortable. Especially on top of everything else he had to tell her.
“You look.. Wow..”
Real smooth.
Lucy to her credit, looked more sheepish than anything at the mention of her appearance. She was still in her travelling gear, face and hair streaked with grime and dirt; it had only been a few hours since they’d returned from Edolas for her, after all.
“Oh, I know. I’m a real mess,” She huffed, “Didn’t have time to change out of anything but at least Natsu’s cloak keeps me from catching anything serious– Loke!“
Loke had opened his mouth to disagree, she looked beautiful to him either way, but choked at the mention of the pink-haired dragon-slayer. The tiny hiccup of jealousy turned into a full blown cough and suddenly he was keeled over hacking into his gown as she rushed to pour him some water.
“Natsu’s.. cloak..?” He tried to croak out once he’d set down the glass, but Lucy waved it away.
“It doesn’t matter. Now, what’s wrong with Aquarius?”
“It’s a long story,” he sighed, “but the crux of it is that she’s missing.”
“Missing?” Lucy looked horrified, “You mean, I left her key behind in Edolas?”
“No,” Loke shook his head, “Even if that were the case she’d simply reappear back in the Spirit Realm– but she never did.
“My working theory is that the anima must have interfered with her travel between worlds somehow. I wanted to see if you could summon her from your side, but it seems like whatever blocked her return, destroyed her celestial contract as a result.”
“What are you saying?” Lucy’s voice became very small and her eyes began to well up.
“You can’t mean.. you don’t think..”
Watching the colour rapidly drain from her face Loke grabbed her arm quickly to keep her from assuming the worst possible outcome.
His time as a spirit had not only desensitised him to the whiplash of emotions that came with being a human, but also how hasty they were in considering their own death. Celestial Spirits almost never died before their time (though they were by no means eternal), but she had no way of knowing that.
“Don’t worry, Lucy,” He shook his head again, “Celestial Spirits aren’t bound by the same rules humans are. If their key is broken it just means that the spirit has accidentally ended up in a closed-pocket realm and involuntarily broken their contract.”
This momentarily put a stop to the tears.
“A closed what?”
“It’s like an Edolas, but for spirits,” Loke frowned aloud, absentmindedly still holding her arm, “Essentially a realm that nullifies their magic.”
“In the rare occasion that this happens, it’s usually the Celestial Spirit King’s responsibility to find them and bring them back, but since there are an endless number of pocket dimensions they could’ve fallen into, it takes a while to locate them.”
“But aren’t Celestial Spirits made of magic?” Lucy asked, squeezing his hand back in concern.
“Not anymore than you or anyone else from Fairy Tail. Our magic can be shut down under the right circumstances.”
“So Aquarius is––“
“Out of commission, yes. But only briefly,” Loke added reassuringly, “Once I return, I’ll make sure we find her and reinstate her contract right away.”
“I see,” Lucy nodded, brows furrowing. She then dropped his hand in favour of standing up to pace the length of the room.
Watching her walk back and forth and back forth, pondering the temporary absence of her oldest spirit companion, Loke tried not to wince in pain as a dull throbbing began at the base of his skull; the cause of which could’ve been his depletion of magic energy, or just plain guilt.
He hadn’t lied to Lucy exactly– he’d just omitted to tell her certain crucial details that might alarm her; like, for example, that the search for Aquarius was already underway, or how he hadn’t slept in over a month (in celestial days) and used up the final dregs of his power to transport himself here in the hopes that she could summon her friend herself.
The truth was that no matter how lost Aquarius might’ve gotten in the Spirit Realm, her key wasn’t supposed to go missing. The contract with her Celestial Wizard should’ve remained unaffected regardless of the location of the spirit, since the key was made with the sole intention of being an anchor, in both their worlds.
Loke wasn’t sure he could tell her the whole truth until he got some answers himself; as the Leader of the Twelve Zodiac Houses, Aquarius’ disappearance weighed hard on him more-so than normal. He’d only just been back in the Spirit Realm for a few months now but the backlog of centuries’ worth of responsibilities had nearly run him into the ground, so much so that he’d underperformed each time Lucy had needed him in the past month.
As if the humiliation at the hands of the Oración Seis wasn’t enough (he hadn’t expected to see Aries on the battlefield so soon), Loke cringed to think how he’d been so overworked he’d blatantly flirted with and subsequently gotten rejected by Lucy’s Edolas counterpart, mere hours ago.
“Loke? Hello? Earth to Leo?” He snapped back to reality.
Lucy had stopped pacing and had returned to hover over him, hands on her waist, shrewdly giving him a once-over. Loke held his breath, wondering if she could tell that he was hiding something; Lucy was smarter than people gave her credit for.
“Sorry milady,” he faked an easy grin, leaning in closer to distract her, “I got lost in your beautiful eyes for a second there.”
Lucy blinked once, twice then rolled those same eyes in disbelief, breaking the spell.
“Someone’s confident today,” she huffed, resuming her seat, “How’d your little date go, by the way? Virgo told me all about it.”
Loke made a mental note to never joke with Virgo about dating his workload ever again.
“Terribly,” he pretended to pout, wondering if Lucy would take the bait.
“And why’s that?” She did.
“Well, to start with, she wasn’t you,” He said, reaching over to tuck a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, sure the classic Loke move would leave her in pieces. It was a little cheesy but it worked in a pinch.
Lucy only smacked his hand away, her exasperation bleeding into irritation.
“Loke, you can’t keep doing this,” She said, crossing her arms, “What’s going on with you?”
“You were exhausted even before the Edolas fight.. when was the last time you slept?”
Loke blinked in surprise. Much smarter than people gave her credit for.
“Not for a while,” He admitted, shoulders slumping and leaning back into the pillows, “Not since the run in with Aries.”
“Loke!” Lucy’s worried gasp had him ducking his head with something like shame, “That was weeks ago!”
Between the overwhelming amount of paperwork on his table, attending every Spirit World event he’d been absent for, and now Aquarius’ disappearance, Loke counted himself lucky that he didn’t have silly human needs to tend to anymore like eating or sleeping, but his body seemed to think otherwise. The Celestial Spirit King had warned him that readjusting would take some time, of course, but Loke hadn’t listened; he couldn’t just throw away the second (and last) chance he’d been given at the expense of Lucy’s dignity– he’d break his own key before letting her suffer for him again.
“Celestial spirits don’t need all that y’know–“ He said, trying his best to sound nonchalant about it, but she quickly cut him off.
“But you haven’t been a spirit for that long!” Lucy scolded, “Remember what the Spirit King said about–“
“I know, Lucy,” He sighed, unable to meet her eyes, “I just.. didn’t want to let yo- uh everybody down.”
“Oh..”
“You know,” He added, only half joking, “-can’t have people saying I wasn’t worth all the trouble, after all you did for me.”
At this, Lucy reached out and grabbed his hand, forcing him to look up at her.
“Loke, you’re my friend,” She said sternly, “I would do it again in a heartbeat.”
Loke wondered how she could look at him like that, like she would defend him to the ends of the Earthland, and expect him not to fall in love with her.
“Ah,” He put his other hand on his heart in mock despair, lightening the mood instantly, “You shouldn’t get my hopes up like that, Lucy.”
“W-What?”
“Just friends?” He pulled her hand to his chest then, “I thought we had something special, milady.”
“Yeah right,” Lucy smiled, relaxing a little, “Me and every girl within a five-mile radius."
“Don’t you think for a minute that I’ve forgotten what happened with my Edolas doppelgänger, you flirt!”
“I see, does that mean you only want me to flirt with you, Lucy?” He teased, leaning in to see the sudden influx of colour that rushed to Lucy’s face.
“I- I never-“ He tried not to enjoy it too much as she floundered around for a comeback and settled for pulling her hands away in protest.
Although Loke did his best to keep his foot out of his mouth, he constantly found himself toeing the line between cheeky and tongue-in-cheek with his flirting, mostly because he had no idea how to talk to Lucy otherwise.
Addressing her formally (like he’d been accustomed to with Karen), felt foreign and ill-fitting and it definitely didn’t help that Lucy herself often blurred the line between spirit and friend herself– insisting everyone call her by her first name, and being determined to fight on equal footing as though they were partners. But even he knew better than to delude himself into hoping that anything might come of it.
Before Lucy could reply, however, they were interrupted by a sharp, sarcastic rap on the door.
“Break it up ya lovebirds, the Master wants to see ‘er.”
“Gajeel!”
Loke tensed up.
Though it had been well over four months since the iron dragon-slayer had joined the guild, along with Juvia Lockser, his popularity (unlike Juvia’s) hadn’t skyrocketed in the least. While this had, in some part, to do with Gajeel’s prickly personality, the greater blame lay in his mistreatment of the Fairy Tail members during the guild war with Phantom Lord, and, among the casualties, a certain celestial mage with sunshine blonde hair.
Loke glowered at the red-eyed wizard, still bedridden but now imperceptibly shifting his torso to shield Lucy from whatever would come next.
Gajeel only snorted, no doubt considering the implications of starting a fight with a guy in a hospital gown, and pointed over Loke’s shoulder instead.
“Just ya, Blondie,” He crossed his arms, “Somethin’ about losin' his keys or whatever.”
“Oh,” Lucy got up to leave but Loke involuntarily grabbed her hand and shook his head. Gajeel threw them another withering look.
“Look, I don’t wanna be here either, alright? Got better things to do than run around playing errand boy to that old man. I’ve got an exceed to feed y’know.”
It was only then that they noticed the animal on his shoulder. Bearing a striking resemblance to Happy and Carla, this one was covered in black fur, with stark white wings and a scar running across one eye.
Both Lucy and Loke jumped a little when the exceed opened it’s mouth to say “Hello, I’m Panther Lily,” with the voice of a fifty-year-old war veteran.
“It’s nice to meet you.”
“Hello,” Lucy replied bravely, not to be deterred, “I’m Lucy Heartf- uh just Lucy! Welcome to Fairy Tail!”
Loke tried not to look up at her then; he knew how self conscious Lucy had become after her run in with her father, especially about her name. The other guild members had teased her about her ‘princessy’ demeanour for months on end, and though she’d laughed it off in good faith, Loke had heard from Virgo that she’d marched down to the Magic Council to have Heartfilia removed from all her legal documents.
“Loke,” he grunted reluctantly when the exceed turned to him. He didn’t want to tell Gajeel’s pet anything but his rudeness wouldn’t reflect well on Lucy.
“You’re a Celestial spirit,” The Exceed noted, fixing him with a strange look.
“Is that a problem?” Loke raised an eyebrow.
“But not a full one. Interesting..”
Loke’s hackles raised, and he opened his mouth to ask just what exactly the little bear-cat-like creature meant before he felt the squeeze on his arm and realised Lucy was looking at him.
“I’ll be right back,” She’d already dropped his hand before he could voice his objection, so instead he watched her leave, deliberately narrowing his eyes as Gajeel made to close the door.
“If you touch one hair on her head..” He gritted his teeth.
“Yeah, yeah,” Gajeel said carelessly, scratching at his jaw, “Word of advice? Get it together before ya go off makin’ threats loverboy.”
The door slammed shut with a THUD!
Loke released a breath into the air and pressed his hand to his temples. What was he doing?
Gajeel was right, he wasn’t in any place to sit around and growl at people like Lucy’s lapdog. Karen had loved seeing him do it, almost as much as she’d loved to torment Aries to get a rise out of him.
“Aren’t I lucky,” The green-haired, green-eyed (in more ways than one) Karen Lilica had crowed, brandishing her chain-whip, “I have both the strongest and the weakest spirits of all the Zodiac.”
Before he could realise what was happening, Loke had already slipped into the dream.
The familiar periwinkle and gold interior of the Blue Pegasus guild hall rose up to swallow him and suddenly Loke wasn’t Loke anymore. Now he was Leo, confident and glowing as he reached out to shake the hand of the sweet, green-haired girl who’d summoned him.
“Oh wow!” She gasped, shaking his hand with both of her own, “I’m so honoured to meet a member of the Zodiac! I’m Karen by the way!”
The ground fell away under him and suddenly Loke was crouched at the foot of a plush red sofa as an older Karen lovingly stroked his head; teary mascara streaking down her face. Gone was the youthful girlishness, now replaced by a garish lipsticked smile.
“You know I didn’t mean it right, Leo? I just got so angry– I don’t know what came over me.”
He looked on dumbly as Karen cooed and fussed over the large gash above his right eyelid.
If only he had known sooner. If only he had seen it coming. If only, if only, if only.
The roar of a waterfall cascaded from somewhere inside him and Loke looked around, confused, before the ceiling opened up and released a flood of water down on him, drowning, drowning, drowning and then.. not.
Now Loke was kneeling on a rocky outcropping overlooking a great waterfall, in front of Karen’s grave, but the grave was empty and Karen was standing next to him, all pretense of love leaving her eyes as she dug the sharp tip of her heel into his shoulder.
“Why won’t you just leave me alone? Go. Back. Go back, go back, go back!” She shrieked, shoving him backward. Loke caught his balance before he tumbled into the hole and finally found the words to defend himself.
“What.. happened to you?” He choked out as Karen proceeded to loop her chain-whip around his neck and pull.
She laughed as he fought for air, grasping at the rusted metal in vain.
“What’re you on about?” She taunted, leaning in to press a kiss right above his eye, “You turned me into this, Leo.”
Her kisses felt like acid.
“It’s all your fault,” She whispered as his face began to burn and his vision began to darken, “And now you’ve gone and dragged that poor girl into it too.”
Loke turned around in horror to see Lucy now lying inside Karen’s empty grave, eyes closed, clutching his key to her chest like a lifeline.
“Gate.. of the lion.. close.. gate..”
“Lucy! LUCY!”
Loke reached out to grab her, but it was too late. The ground closed over the hole, as he started to disappear, grass and flowers sprouting beneath the gravestone and sealing Lucy away forever - his name the last words on her lips.
“Leo.”
Another fainter voice overlapped with hers, originating from somewhere at the back of his skull; a voice that sounded suspiciously like Aquarius’.
“Leo,” Lucy-Aquarius repeated, quiet and urgent, like she didn’t have much time, “You need to be careful.”
“The Eclipse is coming.”
Loke woke for the second time that day to a pair of worried brown eyes.
This time, however, they belonged to his long-time friend and confidante, Aries. As though dreaming about their former master had summoned her to his side, the pink-haired, Ram Spirit hovered over him anxiously, mumbling something to herself.
“Leo!” She repeated, relieved as he sat up a little straighter.
“Aries..” He replied, not fully able to process what was happening, “Did Lucy summon you? What’re you doing here?”
“Mhm,” She shook her head, “I came on my own. I learned how to after.. well..”
Loke winced as he recalled the phantom abuse in his dream, involuntarily feeling his throat to check for burn marks.
“The Celestial Spirit King wanted to know if Lucy-san still had the Aquarius key?” Aries asked hopefully.
The disappearance had left everyone in the Spirit World on edge, their monarch included. Loke had a feeling it was because it had been millennia since they were forced to confront their potential demise. That and because Scorpio kept giving everyone hell for losing Aquarius; Loke had to physically restrain his friend to keep him from ambushing Lucy on his own.
“No,” Aries’ face fell as he continued, “For some reason, the key’s gone too. We don’t have any hint for where we should begin searching, and the closed-pocket realms are endless.”
“We can only hope she hasn’t fallen into any of the Disgraced dimensions.”
Aries’ eyes got wide at the mention of the Red-Key Spirits, former inhabitants of the Celestial Spirit Realm, exiled for breaking the code of conduct that all spirits were required to abide under. No decent spirit would be caught whispering about The Disgraced Ones within the earshot of Loke– after all, if Karen had been any less of a villain, he would’ve shared their fate.
It was another thing he’d carefully kept from Lucy. His banishment to the human world was an act of mercy, only granted to him for his eons of unwavering loyalty to the Celestial Spirit King, and when it came down to it, Loke would pick dying in the human world over the twisted solitude of the Disgraced dimensions. At least he would die as himself.
“Do you suppose it was taken?” Aries said finally, her usual jumpiness replaced by uncharacteristic conviction, “Maybe someone stole it off Lucy-san when she wasn’t looking?”
“Maybe,” Loke shrugged, unconvinced, “But it’s unlikely. From what Lucy told me, they just returned from Edolas a few hours ago.”
“If anyone wanted to steal the key, it’d have to be from within Fairy Tail.”
“But–“
“No, Aries,” She looked hurt when he cut her off, “The people here aren’t like that. You should just go home– I’ll handle it.”
Loke tried to feign indifference as her big doll eyes began to well up with tears. He hated doing it but drawing boundaries between himself and the rest of the Zodiac had become a necessity when he returned. Aries, who’d arguably been the happiest of them all, quickly came to the realisation that her friend had become a completely different person in all their time apart.
Time worked differently in the Celestial Spirit Realm; sometimes it would go faster, sometimes slower, and there were even periods where it simply wouldn’t move at all. For the three years Loke had been in Earthland, time had spun like a roulette table and separated him from his friends by a whopping three hundred years, suddenly making him the youngest of his former team-mates.
He lost the respect and acclaim that came with being the Leader of the Zodiac, the title going to Aquarius in his absence; no longer the notorious lion spirit, now just a cub with claws too big and too sharp for his feet.
“I wish you would let me help,” Aries’ lip wobbled, still she rubbed at her eyes defiantly, “We used to do everything together, Leo.”
Loke clutched his hospital gown tightly, his mouth set in a thin, hard line.
After a few seconds of strained silence, where he pretended he didn’t see her shoulders quietly shaking, Aries said,
“I know you blame me for Karen’s death.”
He glanced up, surprised.
“I thought about it for years,” She frowned, not meeting his eyes, “‘Leo must hate me’. After all, you were only trying to protect me.”
“If I had just been better at standing up for myself, you wouldn’t have been punished so severely!”
“I don’t blame you,” He said gently, her tears had gotten to him, “But this is my job Aries, I can’t drag you into it.”
“But Karen–“
“Karen was a monster,” Loke bared his teeth, not an ounce of regret in his voice, “–and she got what she deserved.”
“She was so kind when we first met her,” Aries insisted weakly, “I can’t help but wonder if we had helped her more maybe–“
“Maybe she would’ve turned on us faster,” He snapped, “Maybe she would’ve done worse! You didn’t see her those last few weeks, Aries, I did.”
“She was unhinged– the girl I made a contract with died a long time ago.”
Loke refrained himself from adding ‘And it was all my fault.’ to the end of that sentence, because he knew Aries would never understand. She would want to share the blame for their former master’s descent into madness, but the cruel truth was that despite what Aries said, she simply couldn’t handle the pain that came with that realisation. Karen knew it too, its why she saved all the especially harrowing punishments for him. It was much more fun for her to watch him slowly begin to resent the friend he’d tried so desperately to save.
“I don’t blame you,” Loke repeated, almost as though he was trying to convince himself, “And besides, getting banished was the best thing that ever happened to me. I wouldn’t have met Lucy, otherwise.”
“Then let me help you,” Aries refuted stubbornly, “Aquarius is my friend too!”
“And my responsibility,” He countered, “–as the Leader of the Zodiac–“
“If what happens to Aquarius starts spreading, there won’t be a Zodiac left to lead, Leo!”
Loke started at her tone. He didn’t think he’d ever heard Aries’ voice rise higher than 40 decibels.
“You’re not the only one suffering here! Remember how bad it was when we lost Capricorn– you wouldn’t even let us help you then! You had to ‘do it yourself’, well a whole lot of good that did you!”
“So just stop being so– so– pig-headed!” Even Aries looked surprised by her sudden burst of rebelliousness, and clamped both her hands over her mouth in horror.
The sight was so odd and unexpected that, try as he might, Loke couldn’t hold back the snort that spilled out from somewhere deep inside him.
He was in tears within seconds, clutching the sides of his stomach as he keeled over with laughter, and, after a few seconds, Aries joined him; the two of them snickering like middle-schoolers over a dumb joke.
“Pig-headed?” He wheezed.
Stars, it had been a while since they’d laughed together. Truth be told, Loke wasn’t sure they’d even be able to talk normally again without the ghost of Karen hovering between them, but here they were. Stranger things had happened.
“I’m glad,” Aries said finally, as she paused to catch their breath, “I haven’t seen you smile once since you came home.”
Loke opened his mouth to protest but she held up a finger to stop him, “No, talking about Lucy-san doesn’t count.”
“Killjoy.” He huffed. Aries giggled.
“How is she taking the news, by the way?”
“Better than I expected,” He admitted, “She’s tougher than she looks, m–“
Loke caught himself just in time.
He didn’t know what would be worse, actually slipping up and saying the words “my Lucy”, or watching his friend’s face scrunch up with pity as she hears it. Even Aries (the most optimistic of all the spirits) would click her tongue in disbelief if she found out just how deep his loyalties lay.
Celestial Spirits don’t fall in love with humans. Capricorn had drilled it into his head since he was a boy. Especially not their bright-eyed, lavender-shampooed, beautiful, beautiful masters.
“That’s good,” Aries affirmed, blissfully oblivious to his mental gymnastics as she rose from her seat, “I’d better head off then.”
“Is there anything you wanted me to look into while you’re.. taking your mandatory rest?”
Loke was about to shake his head and send her on her way, but a tiny voice in the back of his head made him pause, the lightness in his chest temporarily soaking in an inexplicable sense of dread.
“Actually,” he began, “There is one thing.”
She blinked expectantly.
“What can you tell me about the Eclipse?”
Next Chapter ->
#ao3#ao3 writer#ao3fic#ao3 fic#justminawrites#fairy tail#fairy tail fanfic#lucy heartfilia#lucy x loke#lolu#loke x lucy#celestial spirit#ft aries#ft lucy#ft loke#karen lilica#fluff and angst#tw: mentions of abuse#loke fairy tail#fairytail#fluff#angst#wherethestarscollide#wtsc#tw ptsd#trauma#gajeel redfox#ft gajeel#pantherlily#fyi karen is irredeemable
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Even After all Those Years. [G.W. x Reader]
Part 2 of “That Cold, Wintry Night.”
Summary: You and George reconcile after the war after having a disturbing nightmare about Fred’s death.
Warnings: avada kedavraw
Word count: 1.3k
a/n: i’m so sorry the ending seems rushed and the lack of length oh my god
--
Green and red. Crucios and the dreaded Avadas. Your dreams had been plagued by the events of the battle. Sometimes you'd even dream of the tragic Yule Ball. Night after night, you woke up in a cold sweat clutching your sheets as though something was going to sweep you away.
'I'm sorry, Y/N,' the voice echoed, with baleful undertones.
You were caught in the middle of a blizzard, keeled over in front of George, crying desperately as flakes of snow piled on top of you. You were like a snow-capped mountain that moaned with grief as you begged for him to look at you just once.
'Why?' you cried out, voice hoarse from grief. Your sobs reduced to snivels, 'Why didn't you tell me?'
Suddenly, an emerald green light flashed in front of you, then a wall exploded far off in the distance. Voices, familiar voices, wailed in grief.
'Fred...!' the voices howled, disembodied. Fred had died in the explosion, but how? Wasn't he running the joke shop in Diagon Alley with George?
'Avada...!'
You shot up from your bed, covered in sweat, once again, and panting. Only this time— you worried about Fred. You knew he was alive, you'd see him and George every day through the window of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, but the dream seemed too real to ignore.
You slipped a coat on, not bothering to change out of your nightgown. Slipping your feet into your boots, you tapped them on the wooden flooring to ensure they were snug before you headed to your fireplace to help yourself to a handful of Floo powder. You were fighting with time.
"Diagon Alley!" You shouted with purpose, though you breathed in a bit of the ashes. Your body was engulfed in emerald green flames as the world around reduced to twisted disfigured streets. Then, you were met with a dimly-lit street that led up to the shop. You coughed and wheezed as you tried to expel the ash that entered your system whilst travelling by Floo.
--
You hastily made your way up the cobbled winding street. The shop had just closed for the night, and you banged desperately on the door. With each thrust your hand made, you could've sworn that the door was on the verge of collapsing.
'George?! Fred?! Anybody—?' You called out, but was immediately silenced by the rustling of feet. The door swung open, greeting you with the sight of the twins who looked just as disheveled and perplexed as you.
'Y/N?!' said George incredulously, 'What are you doing out here a quarter to midnight?!'
‘I saw,’ you paused to look at Fred, who looked back at you, seemingly unscathed, ‘ I saw visions,’ you shuffled in your spot uncomfortably as George’s gaze bore deeply into you, ‘Horrible, horrible visions.’
--
The twins beckoned you inside as the night grew colder by the second. They ushered you upstairs into their apartment, where lie prototypes of their newest products. The wall was tattered from small explosions. Tiny vials of unfamiliar substances were scattered across the shelves. You looked out the window to see the night sky blossoming with stars.
‘It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it?’ George called out from behind you, ‘I believe it’s about to start snowing soon.’ You kept quiet and only hummed in agreement, remembering the unfortunate circumstances between you and George.
Ah. Snow. You forgot about the advances of winter. You ran your finger across the windowsill, seemingly deep in thought. Your mind raced. That day was the day the Yule Ball was held. Then, in the corner of your eye, a flake of snow fell. Then two, then three, then the world started to glimmer with white.
‘Y/N,’ George started towards you, ‘I didn’t mean to leave you that night,’
Your stomach lurched. Then, you turned to him. Fred had retired to his room, leaving the two of you alone in the living room. It was dimly lit, the only source of light being the candelabrum that stood in the corner of the room. The howling of the wind signaled that a blizzard had formed outside. Your eyes danced around, refusing to make contact with his as he advanced closer to you.
‘Y/N, please,’ he grasped your shoulder. Your eyes finally locked with his. Suddenly, the whole world was at peace. Death Eaters were a thing of the past, now that his presence graced you.
‘Then why did you leave?’ you asked, rather weakly as your voice wavered; as if you were holding back the same tears you spilled that night, years ago. It was years ago, but the scar forever remained.
‘I just-’ George paused to wet his lips and search for words, but nothing came out. He ran his hand through his hair. The locks that raked through his slender fingers fluttered messily back into place.
‘George Fabian Weasley,’ You beckoned, now grabbing his full attention. Everything seemed to fall in place, just like that night, ‘You knew. Everyone knew.’ Your voice began to break. All those years ago, but your feelings never once wavered like how your voice did in that moment.
‘And even after all those years,’ Your breath then hitched, ‘I still loved you so,’
Just like a rubber band stretched to its limits, you snapped. Everything came gushing out. All those years of pent up longing and desire, wishing you were in the warmth of his arms. You were vulnerable. Your glistening, red eyes broke contact with George’s deep eyes as you crashed into his arms. He welcomed you into his embrace, snaking his arms around your waist. He rested his chin on the top of your head, as his hooded eyes seemed to glitter with slight relief; the relief knowing you still chose to seek refuge in his arms despite everything.
‘Even after you confirmed your feelings for Angelina, the flame in me never fanned out.’ You breathed out in between your sobs. George felt the strings of his heart pull. George rubbed your back gingerly as he led the two of you to the moth-eaten couch, propping you down gently with a small huff.
‘I’m sorry, Y/N,’ George whispered into your ear. His voice was soft yet raspy, it almost cracked, like a small firework. The guilt ate away at him, ‘I knew everything, you were right,’ Your sniffles died down.
‘Night after night, all I dreamt of was the war. I dreamt of the Yule Ball, how I knelt in front of you. It was pathetic,’ You chuckled at your confession that seemed to slip out on its own. You smiled up at him weakly, your puffy eyes formed crescents as your plump lips quivered, ‘Then, I dreamt Fred died. It was a dream, but it was too real to ignore. I heard your family’s cries,’
George’s eyes were wide in shock. For how long had you been plagued by nightmares? Nightmares of him? He pulled you closer, as if you would be blown away if his grip on you were to loosen even in the slightest bit.
‘It’s okay,’ He soothed you as he brushed the hair out of your face, ‘It’s okay- Fred’s here. I’m here.’ Then, he placed a kiss on your forehead. It was gentle, like a warm feather tickling you. For a brief moment, sparks shone.
You looked up at him in disbelief. Your tears stopped, as if his kiss magically stopped you from crying. Your lips curled up into a weak smile. Your face was flushed from all the release of your pent-up feelings.
You stared at him, dumbfounded, ‘Is this a dream?’ You murmured.
‘No it isn’t, love,’ George tittered at your shock.
‘Pinch me-- OUCH! Not literally!’
Then, the two of you broke out into loud, melodious laughter. The world didn’t matter anymore; for it was both of yours now. The rest of the night was spent catching up, talking about the battle, reminiscing about your Hogwarts days, and reconciling.
--
‘I hope this means we can turn over a new leaf?’ George looked down at you. His eyes glittered with hope. You felt your heart stop at the way he grinned at you. You stopped to bask in him. This was the boy you had loved since the moment you laid your eyes on him.
‘Definitely.’
--
[GIF not by me]
#george wealsey x reader#george weasley#george wealsey imagine#george weasley oneshot#harry potter#harry potter oneshot#harry potter imagine
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Schrödinger's Cat Ch. 1: Tides of Time (ft. ANRI AI) — Orange_Oyster
Content Warnings for This Chapter:
drowning, vomiting, explicit gore
Junpei woke up coughing and sputtering, trying to clear his lungs of the liquid that was choking them. He hit the ground on all fours, shaking like a small animal, and wheezed and whined. His breathing was ragged and stuttering but surprisingly dry. The only liquid he'd managed to eject were thin splatters of spit, the remnants dripping down his chin. His nose ran and he scrubbed at it with the back of his arm.
His heart rate slowed to something close to normal and he closed his eyes to try and get his bearings. Okay, Junpei. Where the hell are you?
The last thing that he could remember was the feeling of something sharp entering and exiting his body. He had keeled over, his legs suddenly not listening to him any longer, and plunged into the moon pool. Water had flooded his lungs as blood left him just as quickly, saturating the water around him in pink and brown ribbons of his life. Everything had gone black around the edges as blood loss and oxygen deprivation squeezed the last bit of his consciousness away and he had passed out. Or, more likely, died.
But he was on dry land with no water in his lungs and no stab wound in his back so maybe...
Maybe that was some horrid bad dream! Yeah, that seemed real likely. Whatever nonsense death prophecy that he had just woken up from was a dream and nothing more.
So where was here?
Satisfied with his not-death, Junpei stood up, wiped his palms on his jeans, and looked around to try and orient himself.
He was in what appeared to be some kind of sleeping quarters. There were two three-tiered metal beds with incredibly thin mattresses and starched sheets tucked military style around the corners. There was something that looked like a utilitarian stove with a teapot on top. By that was some kind of accordion door.
On the other side of the room, near a round window, was a folding table and two folding chairs with threadbare cushions. By the table was a sink and small corkboard. Directly opposite from the window was something that was standing against the far wall covered in a sheet and, between the standing object and the sink was a metal door with a large red 5 painted on it in thick, dripping strokes.
The whole place looked eerily familiar and also incredibly ominous. Both of those things were not good in the slightest and Junpei was still trying to orient himself so he didn't have time to figure out if he'd been kidnapped for murder purposes or miscellaneous purposes.
Just as he was about to consider laying down on one of the uncomfortable-looking beds and sleeping off what was obviously a waking nightmare, there was a horrid creaking and cracking noise. It was coming from the window! The glass was fracturing, spiderweb cracks ejecting polygonal chunks of yellowing glass into the room as water began to leak and then pour in.
"Oh shit!" Junpei looked around the room, trying to find a way to escape. No way in hell he was dying here. Drowning in what was obviously the economy bunks of what was apparently a ship on the ocean seemed like a genuinely embarrassing way to die.
His first thought was to try the door. There was this weird electronic device next to it with a card reader and lever but when Junpei poked at it, nothing would move or respond to his prodding.
Oh great. It's a death trap puzzle room. He'd been kidnapped for murder reasons.
His second thought was to start tearing the room apart. If this was some kind of puzzle trap, there had to be a sporting chance of escaping before he drowned. Where was the fun in killing your victims before they got good at convoluted point and click adventure game logic nonsense? Ergo: there had to be some kind of keycard or whatever lying around to open the door.
On the bed near the stove was a blue briefcase with a keyhole and number lock. That was irritating but not unexpected. Why would anything be simple? The next course of action had to be finding the blue key for the blue briefcase.
From there he threw open the stove door and found a screwdriver with a red handle resting on coal-crusted metal. He gingerly picked it up and shoved it in his pocket because who doesn't need a screwdriver? After he closed the door, he looked in the teapot.
"Jackpot!" Inside the metal cookware was a blue key. Now he needed the number code unless he wanted to brute force the damn thing open; not that he had time to do that. The rushing water was already getting a little too high for his liking, lapping the more absorbent parts of his shoes.
If he survived but had wet socks he was going to be pissed. Death was better than soggy socks any day.
Throwing the closet open revealed a red briefcase. That meant he needed a red key and, yeah, another code. At least things were consistent.
There was a weird memo with shapes and an arrow in blue and red under a pillow. That probably had to do with the briefcases, obviously, but it was hard to tell what. It probably wasn't a complete clue. Junpei waded against the current to the sink by the broken porthole—because this was a ship and ship windows were portholes, right?
On the corkboard was another shape and color memo, which Junpei pocketed with the other one for scrutiny later. Below the corkboard but above the sink, sitting on a damp-looking wooden shelf, was a picture of some old ship in a frame. It looked modern. Not like super modern, but like last century definitely-probably-a-cruise-ship modern. Big and metal with smokestacks and sharp contrasting values.
The picture wasn't in color so he could only judge the design by shape and monochromatic value at best. It wasn't bad looking but it also wasn't something Junpei wanted to die on.
If he was going to die, it'd be doing something halfway interesting, not a sinking abandoned cruise ship from decades ago.
"I wonder..." Junpei flipped the picture frame over and felt rewarded for being nosey. On the backside of the frame were crosstip screws and he had a crosstip screwdriver! Perfect tool for a murder puzzle room! Fair and square, just like he figured.
It was more than a little weird how Junpei had yet to freak the hell out about how he had been kidnapped. Thus far, he had tries to puke ocean water, realized he wasn't drowning, tried to get his bearings, realized he was going to drown if he didn't escape, and somehow found two keys, a hint paper, a picture frame, and a screwdriver—oh, wait, scratch those last two. The picture frame lost its value the second he extracted its innards and the screwdriver, as useful as it might have been in literally any situation, broke. Tip snapped right off.
"That's just planned obsolescence. Cheap way to make extra money selling tools." As fun as it was to snipe and talk to himself as if anyone else could hear him, he was wasting time being cute. Besides, it looked like the back of the photo had the key for the color and shape puzzle. That's a win for Junpei.
He tossed the now-ruined remains of the screwdriver to the side and walked past the door to the standing thing covered in a sheet on the other side. He tugged the sheet off and saw a standing mirror with a red key taped to the frame. He yanked it off and stared at his reflection with scrutiny.
He was starting to develop a bit of a headache between his temples. It was a digging, ever-present pain that spread fire across his nose and the back of his eyes. Maybe it was the whole 'wake up and cough until he realized he wasn't drowning' thing but he felt like hot garbage.
"Oh I look terrible." It was fine if he said it aloud because it was true. He was pale and sweaty, his hair matted down in places against his skin, and he had massive dark circles under his eyes. He felt like shit too but that wasn't the point. The point was that, staring in the mirror, tracing the scruff on his chin with his eyes, and thinking really hard made him realize that he remembered how he wound up here.
Someone in a gas mask broke into his apartment and gassed him into unconsciousness and that was...damn. Kidnapped for murder reasons and he knew the face of the bastard who did it and their motive. Kinda? If a gas mask counted as a 'face'.
Still, whatever was going on was infuriatingly vague. What the fuck was a Nonary Game? Aside from the obvious 'game where he put his life on the line' as ol' Gas Mask had been kind enough to tell him. And why him? What had he done to deserve this?
He didn't have time to worry about the why and self-pity and so on. He needed to get the hell out of this room before it flooded. His socks were getting wet and he hated it. Time to use that irritation as motivation!
Comparing the two color and shape papers to the key on the back of the picture of the ship, Junpei unlocked the blue briefcase and was rewarded with a really nice file folder, a calculator, a pen, a notebook, and a handful of blue key cards. Not willing to miss out on any kind of hint or information about how to use the key cards, he cracked the file open and started reading, sitting on the bunk next to the briefcase with his feet pulled on the mattress to keep them dry.
The one file in the folder was on something called 'digital roots'. It was some kind of math thing that just involved adding together numbers and reducing them down to the ones digit by continuing to add them. Wasn't a complicated process, all things considered, and Junpei was pretty sure he could do digital roots in his sleep, but the calculator, notebook, and pen went into one vest pocket and the file folder went under his arm for the moment.
"I should invest in something with larger pockets," Junpei mused as he unlocked the red briefcase and got the other key cards, leaving the picture and two code papers in the briefcase as he walked to the door. "Imagine if I could keep my notebooks in my pockets? No more backpack! Rain wouldn't be so bad anymore." It was wistful thinking. Nobody made pockets that big.
There was nowhere the cards could be used except the card reader by the large door out of here. Looking at the intimidating 5 on it, Junpei's headache flared and he winced. No time for pain though; he had to use the keycards to escape.
Swiping one of the red cards caused the machine to beep but it didn't react to any of the other red cards so he swiped a blue one and the display flickered to life. Junpei stared at it and tried to puzzle out what they wanted from him but...it was obvious wasn't it? The file on digital roots wasn't just there for kicks. 1, 6, and 7 had a digital root of 5. He swiped each card and pulled the lever, which opened the door and let him finally leave.
Panic and relief filled his lungs like the white gas in his apartment but with an opposite effect. It energized him, gave him the energy to tear out of the flooding room and down the now-flooding hallway on his own two feet. He scrambled towards the stairs as fast as he could go, trying to not slow down too much. If he escaped that room only to die by drowning anyway he was going to be so, so angry. All that effort for nothing.
He skidded a little as he tore the door open into what looked like a grand staircase. Panicked by the wave of water rushing towards him, he dashed up the stairs like a frightened animal, using his hands to give him an extra boost to continue up to the next floor, only stopping mid-step when he found himself staring at a group of seven oddly familiar people.
There was a large mountain of a man wearing a teal beanie, an older gentleman with hair like a lion, a reedy dandelion looking guy who was sweaty as hell, some punk guy with white hair and a scowl, a tall, handsome dude in a regal looking coat, a pink girl in Harajuku fashion, and a woman in so little clothing Junpei was worried she might freeze. Junpei was certain that this group saw him tear up the stairs like a man possessed and hoped they didn't think less of him for it. Would be pretty embarrassing to have to introduce yourself as 'that guy who ran up the stairs like a thing from a horror movie' but considering his pants legs were soaked and he looked harrowed, he was probably fine. They would understand.
"No time for introductions. Sorry kid." The woman pushed past him, the rest following her as she tried to go down the stairs. Junpei would have considered it rude but, really, it seemed like that's just how she was.
The punk pushed past Junpei as well, but stopped to glare at him. His skin crawled like he was being dissected by the punk's gaze. Then the punk continued downward.
"There's nowhere to go upstairs," the older gentleman said. Junpei looked up the stairs and frowned. "The two doors on the A-deck are locked."
"Uh—!" As if he remembered he could talk, Junpei called out to the older gentleman and the other two who had descended the grand staircase. "I think D-deck is underwater by now! Be careful!"
The older gentleman looked back at him and nodded.
On the stairs, the girl in pink had the handsome man's wrist in her grip, dragging her with him. He was smiling faintly as she did so, almost as if this was a normal way for them to interact. He tilted his head as if he was listening for something but he spoke up, his voice refined and careful. "That's the ninth one? All of the cards are in play now." The pink girl holding his wrist nodded and made a noise of affirmation. The two of them walked past him with no worries.
The mountain in the beanie and the sweaty guy got to the landing and passed Junpei on the stairs. The dandelion guy startled at every movement, his glasses fogged where they touched his skin. When Junpei looked at him, he made a quiet noise of fear. Junpei's nose wrinkled in confusion but he didn't try and stop him as he went down.
The mountain, on the other hand, stopped to call back to Junpei. "Th' hell are you doing? C'mon down to B-deck with everyone else!" Loud seemed to he his default volume but his tone wasn't unkind. Rather, he seemed almost worried and protective, like he was trying to make sure everyone made it.
"L-like I told the others: the D-deck is underwater."
The mountain didn't seem to care. "Good thing we're not going all the way to D-deck then." With one hand, as easy as moving a glass of beer on a bartop, the mountain pushed Junpei down the stairs.
He stumbled and caught himself on the railing, his extra momentum causing his legs to skid slightly. He frowned at the mountain but the man had caught up to everyone else sitting on the B-deck landing, grouped up in a clump looking at something. There was an air of tension choking the crowd and Junpei was worried that, if he didn't hurry up, he'd miss something important.
Just past them were two large metal doors and, while he could only make out one of them, what he saw made his blood run cold. A large, red, painted 5. Just like in the room he woke up in. Junpei could barely breathe.
"Oh..." It wasn't a word so much as air escaping his lungs in horror.
"They're exactly the same," the punk hissed.
"Agreed." The older gentleman nodded, rubbing his chin in thought. "It's similar to the one I exited out of to reach the main hall."
Everyone clamored to admit they also had similar doors, though the older woman was having none of it. "Sure, we all had doors like this. We don't have time to talk about it!"
"You think I'm just chatting?" The punk snarled and gestured at the 5 door. "If I could will the damn thing open I would." They seemed to already have beef, or it might be a clash of personality. The punk and the older woman both seemed rather abrasive.
Thankfully, as strange as that might sound, the mountain moved the punk with as much care as he had Junpei. The punk grunted as he was displaced but the mountain reared back and bodied the door. The wall rattled, a metal sound that made Junpei's teeth hurt. The mountain pulled back and tackled the door again. And again. And again. He was gonna bruise his shoulder if he kept that up.
"You're big but that's a metal door, man," Junpei called out. "I don't think that's the way to open the actual door." He had walked down the stairs to B-deck to the landing and looked at the other door. It had a big red 4 on it, like the 5 door. He tugged on the handles but it didn't budge. The only clue they had to how it worked was the familiar scanner next to it with a lever on the side and a digital display above it, like a clock but blank.
If their only way out were these unopenable doors, then what did that mean for their survival? Even if this was a fucked up murder puzzle, calling it the Nonary Game implied some level of fairness. There shouldn't be unsolvable puzzles and there shouldn't be unopenable doors. Then he remembered that there was one floor down that wasn't under water. The C-deck.
Junpei turned to head down the stairs to the C-deck but someone caught his eye: an eighth person standing by the clock near the grand staircase. He hadn't noticed her there before and she hadn't spoken up or run to B-deck like the other seven had. Instead, she had calmly walked down the stairs, long after everyone else had.
She couldn't have been any older than Junpei himself and she was achingly familiar. Before he realized it, Junpei was running towards her, his voice caught deep in his throat. His chest ached, he was desperate to reach her and make sure she was real. He needed to see if she was alive. It meant more to him than anything else, even escaping.
She, too, looked as if she had seen a ghost. Frozen on the stairs, it was only when he was close enough to reach that she moved to meet him on the landing. Her foot slipped and she failed to catch herself on the railing but Junpei was faster than gravity. She only fell against his chest as he tried to not move too quickly.
For all he wanted to touch her, to hold her in his arms, he didn't want to upset her. Every move Jupei made was careful and stiff. He only held her shoulder to set her back upright, eyes drinking in every detail of her face. The flush in her cheeks, the light in her eyes, the breath escaping her lips all signs she was alive.
Then his brain caught up with the rest of him and Junpei had the sense to look embarrassed. He cast his gaze to the stairs behind her and chuckled slightly as he let go of her shoulders. "Uh, sorry about that, I—"
"You're crying." That caused him to look back at her. She gave him a soft smile and laughed a bit. Her laughter was wind-chimes on a summer day and it loosened something in his chest.
"O-oh. Am I?" He reached up to rub at his face and his hand came back wet. "Huh." Why had he run to her? Why was he so concerned if she was alive? Who was this person to him? Did it have to do with his weird dream about drowning? "Again, uh, sorry."
"No need to apologize." She smiled again. "I guess part of you recognized me after all these years! You care about me."
"Who—?" Even as he started to ask her who she was, he figured it out. He hadn't seen her in years and yet...maybe he truly did just know her, without effort. After all, Akane Kurashiki was his best and only friend growing up. "Akane! What are you doing here?"
"Oh, you know," Akane tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and beamed, "probably the same thing as you, Jumpy."
He hadn't heard that nickname in years. It knocked a peal of laughter free from his chest and he felt so light. Then the reality of their situation hit him and a stone dropped into his stomach. The Nonary Game. Getting kidnapped. Before Junpei could say anything else, their kidnapper and captor, their game master, decided to give them a hearty welcome.
The voice that came out of the antique PA system was warped and distorted, same as it had been when they spoke in Junpei's apartment. "Welcome aboard." Everyone, even the punk, the mountain, and the older woman froze, their eyes turned upward to the brass trumpet mounted in the corner of the B-deck stairwell. "From the bottom of my heart I welcome you to this, my vessel."
The silence and tension were thick enough to cut with a butter knife. As their kidnapper spoke, Akane's hand snaked into Junpei's and he could feel her trembling slightly. He squeezed her hand. She squeezed back.
"I am Zero, the captain of this ship." Now they had a name for their captor: Zero. "I am also the person who invited you here." Invited?
Junpei snorted derisively. "Invited my ass."
The punk, however, leaned toward the trumpet and yelled loud enough that Zero probably could have heard him at the prow of the ship. "Fuck that! Get your ass out here so I can beat it! None of that cowardly gas shit either!"
"Why are we here?" The older gentleman was much more measured than the punk and Junpei. His voice was low and calm, though projected, and his posture was defensive instead of aggressive.
"I mean to have you participate in a game," Zero answered. It was unclear if they could hear everyone or if this was just a well-timed recording, but either way, their response caused everyone to freeze in place. Nobody seemed capable of breaking through the spell Zero's words had cast over them. "Some of you, I know, are familiar with this game. The Nonary Game. It is a game where you will put your life on the line."
It was a murder kidnapping. A murder puzzle kidnapping. Junpei should have been horrified or shocked, but it was almost like he knew this already. Zero's information, while upsetting, wasn't new to him. He knew about the Nonary Games and the stakes of it.
His head hurt, a burning pressure against his eyes. Akane looked at him, worried, and squeezed his hand. That was an anchor, her cool skin against his striking. He squeezed back and offered her a soft reassuring smile.
"The rules of the Nonary Game can be found upon your persons. They are simple rules. Read them." Zero was very no-nonsense. Couldn't even say please.
"What are they talking about? Rules?" The older woman looked at everyone else as if they might have a satisfactory answer for her.
Thankfully, the punk had stuck his hands in his pockets, searching for whatever rules Zero had left everyone, and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. "Holy shit."
Junpei, realizing he probably had one as well, patted his pockets down and found an identical paper in his back left pants pocket. "Oh hey." Zero put that in his pants? That felt like an invasion of privacy or something. Touching his ass was a step too far, even past drugging and kidnapping him.
"Well it appears as though our host is at least gracious enough to not leave us in the dark." The older gentleman pointed to Junpei. "Do you mind reading that for us? So we can all have the same information."
It was a weird ask, all things considered. If everyone had the same sheet with the same instructions, why would he need to read it out loud? Then Junpei remembered the handsome man was blind and how little clothing the older woman was wearing. Between the two of them, they probably didn't have or were unable to read their rule list so...it was only kind to let everyone know what was expected of them.
Junpei unfolded the paper and tried to make sense of the printed instructions as he read them aloud to everyone, enunciating as clearly as he could. "On this ship you will find a handful of doors emblazoned with numbers. We will call them the numbered doors. The doors in front of you are a pair of the same." The 4 and 5 doors loomed at them, their red numbers not so much emblazoned as slapdash, but it would be rude to correct their host. Not that Junpei thought Zero was actually listening to them in the first place. It was probably something automated on a timer.
He continued reading, "The key to opening these numbered doors are the numbered bracelets that each of you possess. Should you total the numbers on your numbered bracelets and find that the digital root of that number is equal to the number of that door, the door will open." Junpei had been trying to keep his voice neutral as he read so he didn't color the objective rules in any way but it was hard to not become excited at the prospect of getting off this ship. "Only those who have opened the door may pass through. There are, however, limits. Only three to five people can pass through one numbered door. All those who enter must leave, and all who enter must contribute."
Junpei realized he hadn't even bothered to look at the watch on his left arm. Even during his initial escape, in the room he woke up in, he hadn't noticed it. It was almost as if he was already used to its weight and presence on his wrist. As he looked at the number, thinking about the rules Zero had given them, he realized how simple and ironclad they were. Two people could not go into a numbered door alone, which meant that no direct murders or collusion could happen without a third person witnessing. Everyone who entered had to put some effort into whatever came beyond the numbered door itself—likely something similar to the room he'd woken up in—which meant that there could be no dead weight. Everyone worked, everyone made their way to the final exit, and if Junpei's math was right, it was highly unlikely that any one person would constantly pair with one other person the whole time. The necessity of the numbered doors requiring a digital root meant that eventually pairs would be split and everyone would have to get along.
Judging by the variety of personalities in this group, Junpei figured it would be hard.
He continued on, mind racing as he tried to make sense of the absurd position he'd found himself in. "The purpose of the game is simple: leave this ship alive. It is hidden, but an exit can be found. Seek a way out. Seek a door that carries a 9." His words rang out in the B-deck. Even though he was keeping his eyes down on the paper, he could see Akane's hands shaking in his peripheral vision and the way the handsome man's face was drawn and ashen.
"There is one last thing I must tell you." Zero broke their lull, everyone staring at the trumpet in the corner with bated breath. "As you have no doubt surmised: this ship has begun to sink. On April fourteenth, nineteen twelve, the famous ocean liner Titanic crashed into an iceberg. After remaining afloat for two hours and forty minutes, it sank beneath the waters of the North Atlantic." What the hell was Zero on about? What did the Titanic have to do with the Nonary Games? "I will give you more time. Nine hours. That is the time you will be given to make your escape."
Just as Zero said that, the clock by the staircase rang out nine times. Everyone's attention was there, every bell a rising death knell. They had nine hours. It was nine o'clock right now. That meant that, in order to not drown as the ship capsized, they would have to be gone by six in the morning.
"Nine?" The mountain's head was cocked as he listened to the clock tell the hour.
"Nine PM," Junpei said. When the mountain looked at him weird, he added, "There was a porthole or window or whatever in the room I was in. I couldn't see outside so it has to be nighttime." Or it could be that the porthole was under the water line, but even ocean water refracted light. If it was daytime, the light would have shone in regardless.
"A deadline of six AM tomorrow, hm?" The older gentleman said what everyone was thinking.
That, apparently, was Zero's clue to finish their spiel. "Now, it is time. Let our game begin. I wish you all the best of luck." Then the white noise cut out and the trumpet fell silent. The only sounds were the gentle lapping of the water in the D-deck and the creaking and groaning of the ship itself. It sounded like the screams of the damned, drowned souls clawing at the hull. It was an eerie sound, a mausoleum of metal on the water.
The silence was broken by the punk yelling at the trumpet. "Hey! The hell is that supposed to mean? Get out here you insincere piece of shit!" Junpei's head throbbed, the pain behind his eyes flaring up with every loud noise.
While the others weren't yelling like the punk was, they were upset. The mountain was standing rigid, his shoulders hard angles, eyes darting this way and that as if looking for something. The older gentleman was staring at the floor, his brow furrowed in deep thought. The older woman had her hands on her hips, one hip cocked, and was frowning so hard Junpei thought she might hurt herself. Akane had her arms wrapped around herself and was staring at Junpei as if she was waiting for him to act first. But what could he do?
Barring his first instinct of 'sit down and do nothing and die about it', his second instinct wasn't much better. Should they really play along with Zero's plans and engage with the Nonary Game? If this was some kind of murder kidnapping, aside from the slowly sinking ship, there had to be some kind of murder trap in one—if not more—of these numbered doors.
That's not even accounting for the weird specificity of their nine hour time limit. Could Zero control the speed at which the ship sinks? If so: why? Why nine people? Why nine hours? Why nine doors? Why nine at all?
What was Zero playing at? What was the point of all this?
And, the little voice in the back of his head asked, why is Akane here? It can't just be happenstance. You can't just meet your childhood friend again out of nowhere on a murder boat. That's statistically improbable.
It was the older gentleman who broke the heavy silence. "Well, standing around sulking won't do us any good. We should get going, before another hour is up."
Junpei stared at him, confused. He understood what he was suggesting but...
"You want to open the numbered doors?" Akane voiced Junpei's thought for him.
"You can't be serious?!" The older woman moved forward towards the older gentleman, her posture aggressive. "You're going to just do what our kidnapper told you to?"
"You misunderstand me." The older gentleman pulled back from her and shook his head. He seemed a little irritated she was misunderstanding him but Junpei couldn't tell what the older gentleman thought he was saying. "I'm suggesting we look about for an alternate route. We've only just gotten here. None of us have actually tried to find any other exit."
The older lady seemed confused but Junpei was moreso. He had been the odd one out, the only one of the nine of them still on D-deck. What had they done that he hadn't been privy to? "Huh? You guys searched A-deck already?"
The mountain scratched the back of his head. "We did search around but we were in a hurry coz of the loud noise. We might've missed something."
"I think C-deck should still be okay, despite the water. D-deck, like I said earlier, is submerged. That's where I woke up." Junpei ducked his chin at the stairs. "We could search there?"
"Sure. Why not." The punk, calmer now that he'd given Zero a verbal lashing, seemed amicable. The older gentleman seemed to like Junpei's idea as well.
C-deck was, blessedly, not under water. The stairs leading down from C-deck to D-deck were covered, the surface calm, but that didn't assuage Junpei's fear about the ship sinking.
Even if the water isn't rising, the anxious part of his brain screamed, even if the surface is mirror still, that doesn't mean the ship isn't sinking. It very much is. Zero said so and, thus far, Zero hasn't lied.
Zero kidnapped everyone and is forcing us to play in this...this Nonary Game, the angrier part of his brain snapped back. Why the hell should we trust them to be honest? That's gonna get everyone killed.
He assumed he wasn't the only one having this line of thinking because, despite most everyone standing a fair distance from the water-filled stairwell, the handsome man was knelt down with his hand in the water. Next to him, the girl in pink looked anxiously between the handsome man and the water.
"Good news," the handsome man said as he stood up and wiped his hand on his pants leg, "the water is still so that means that it is likely that Zero sealed the breach."
"So we aren't sinking?" The mountain wasn't ready to relax just yet.
"We were given nine hours to complete the Nonary Game so we can assume the water will remain this still for nine hours. The moment it is six AM, the seal will open and the ship will capsize with whoever remains still inside." He was very, very calm for someone saying shit that ominous.
"That's...good?" The mountain still refused to relax. "Or, it's good if true."
The handsome man smiled at that. "I might be presenting this a little optimistically but I am fairly certain that I am right." The girl in pink nodded in agreement.
The punk, however, didn't consider this good news. "Man, that blows."
"Unless there is a way to access the floors below D-deck, assuming they're not submerged as well, we only have A-deck and C-deck as alternatives to the numbered doors." While he was telling the truth, nobody liked what the older gentleman was saying.
"Well let's look at C-deck since we're here instead of just assuming the worst?" The punk jerked his thumb behind him, at the whole of C-deck. Junpei looked at what little this deck had to offer.
"Yeah," he agreed. "The metal doors there, the ones on the far side of C-deck? Those might be promising."
The older woman crossed the C-deck and stared at the door. "Well they're not numbered, despite mirroring the ones a floor higher, and there's no authentication device." She leaned forward, grabbed the knob of one of the doors in her hand, and tried to twist it. It didn't move so she rattled it a bit, then let go and turned back towards everyone with defeat written all over her face.
The mountain tried the other door and found it immovable, even for him. "Damn, both of them, huh?"
The punk, however, had found something interesting. "Hey, check this out." Everyone—including the mountain and the older lady—trailed after him and found a door that looked like the other two.
The older gentleman rattled the door. "Locked as well."
"We'll see about that," the mountain grimaced at the door. "Hey, old man, help me out." The older gentleman seemed to realize the mountain was planning on using brute force and, despite his age, tried to help. While the mountain yelled in exertion and both men yanked on the door, it didn't budge, leaving them panting.
The older woman had withdrawn from near the door when they tried to force it. She sniffed and demanded, "Let a girl know when you're going to start shouting. Scared the shit out of me." Her hand was trembling where it rested against her chest.
"Sorry." At least the mountain apologized.
"It's very well made to not have moved an inch," the older gentleman noted with a degree of awe.
"Well why not use your brain first, idiots." The older woman tapped something below the doorknob of the door. It was a circle with a dot in the middle, but she wasn't indicating that. Just the keyhole beneath it. "We need to find the key before this—" she rapped a knuckle against the door, "—will open."
"A key." The punk didn't seem convinced or all too enthused.
"Yeah. Unless you wanna try picking it?"
He rolled his eyes at the older woman. "I just don't think it'll be that easy to find the key to this specific door. It's not gonna be in a chair cushion or anything." She didn't like that.
Regardless of their conversation, Junpei was more interested in the symbol above the keyhole. There had to be a reason it was there and, above all else, it had to have a meaning.
"What does this even mean?" Junpei asked aloud. It wasn't to any one person in particular, which is why he was startled when the girl in pink answered him.
"Here's another one!" Junpei walked to where she was standing by the double doors and tried to see what she meant.
"Man," Junpei sighed. "More doors."
"Elevators, I think." The girl in pink indicated the glowing buttons to the right of both sets of doors and the round cages that covered the actual door mechanism. "Don't those look like elevator call buttons?"
They did. Junpei pressed one and nothing happened. He frowned.
"You think they're not powered?" Akane asked. Junpei jumped a little but pretended like she didn't unintentionally sneak up on him.
"Maybe this card reader is the key." Junpei pointed out a card reader that had a lever like the verification devices by the numbered doors and a strange symbol carved into the face of it. It looked like a weird letter.
"It looks like someone took the letter 'h' and stabbed it." Junpei gestured, trying to show the two girls what he meant.
"Oh, no." Akane giggled. "It's the celestial symbol for Saturn."
Celestial symbol... "Then the other door? The one with the keyhole?"
"The Sun, I think." Akane tilted her head in thought and nodded.
"Oh! I think there were some like that on A-deck!" The girl in pink seemed to realize.
"I don't remember seeing anything like that." The older woman frowned.
"I haven't been up there so I couldn't tell you." Junpei didn't think any of them cared but he felt the almost compulsive need to speak out anyway.
"Well since we're talking about it, we might as well give A-deck another look." The older gentleman began walking up the grand staircase and everyone else followed. The girl in pink stopped to make sure she was holding on to the handsome man's wrist again, which struck Junpei as both odd and normal in equally conflicting amounts.
When everyone reached A-deck, the girl in pink pointed out two doors where the stairs let out. "Those. The left one is where I saw a symbol like the one on C-deck."
It was a circle with a cross in it, dead center. Junpei couldn't deny that it was remarkably similar to the Sun symbol downstairs. "Yeah, it does kinda match."
Akane, who was actively peering over Junpei's shoulder, smiled. "This is the Earth symbol. The lines here are the equator and the prime meridian." She knew a lot about celestial symbols.
Junpei tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling. It was a large metal dome held shut with rivets. "Oh."
"It looks as though we're barred from going that way." The older gentleman sighed.
"Man," the girl in pink groaned, "but climbing out the top of this ship would've been so cool."
"Yeah but imagine the amount of explosives we'd need to crack it open." The punk pointed out. The girl in pink stared upward and grinned as if she was thinking about what he was suggesting.
Junpei looked around as well. Arched windows were sealed with metal plates and rivets. Nothing quite like the porthole down in D-deck here, it seemed, only sealed windows and covered domes.
"Sealed windows and locked doors," Junpei murmured aloud as he continued to look around for some kind of non-numbered exit. Still, he knew deep down that they had to play by Zero's rules or not at all and it made him angry and bitter.
"I'm sure we'll find the keys for the locked doors somewhere." The girl in pink looked surprisingly upbeat for their situation.
"And what if they lead in circles or to nowhere? What then? That's not an exit." The mountain grimaced at the thought but, really, someone had to say it.
"I doubt it." The handsome man shook his head. "If there was no point to them, they wouldn't exist. And we know there is an exit, the door marked with a 9. So why not try the two doors we know we can open?" He was referring to the 4 and 5 doors.
A heavy feeling of dread and grim acceptance seemed to smother everyone. Everyone, that is, save the older woman.
"I've already said that I think we shouldn't mess with the numbered doors." She placed herself between everyone else and the stairs leading down to B-deck, arms out as if she was blocking their path. "I don't want to play along with Zero. I don't think it's a smart decision."
That sparked a loud and spirited back and forth.
"Might as well try the doors," the mountain pointed out.
"I am in agreement there." The older gentleman nodded.
"Are you listening to me?!" The older woman countered.
"We should at least try," the girl in pink pleaded.
"It could be a trap! We should stay put." The older woman rebuffed.
"You wanna drown?!" The punk snapped at her.
The only people not participating in this row were the handsome man, Akane, Junpei, and the dandelion, who had been quiet this whole time. Junpei's headache intensified. He wanted everything to be quiet and cold and cool. He'd have to settle for quiet.
"Shut up!" Junpei hadn't been very loud but he was shouting. That seemed to get everyone's attention. Even the argument ceased as the participants stared at him. Their eyes felt like hot coals against his skin. He swallowed and exhaled out his mouth. "Before we argue more over if we're going to go in the numbered doors or not, we gotta do one thing first."
"Oh?" The girl in pink cocked her head. With her pigtails, she looked like an inquisitive cocker spaniel.
"Swap information. Names, mostly. Whatever else you're willing to divulge. Just so I can stop mentally calling everyone by epithets. It's giving me a headache." Another sigh escaped him, hissing steam through his teeth.
Nobody answered. That was fine, he hadn't expected any of them to willingly show their hand or anything, but it still pulled his guts into a tangle. He hated standing there, being looked at with disdain and distrust.
Then Akane voiced her opinion. "I agree with Jumpy."
That caused the mountain, barely suppressing a smile, to ask for clarification. "Jumpy?"
Akane blinked. A flush of pink crept across her cheeks. Junpei was certain he was blushing too. "Oh, uh, right. Sorry, I'm talking about him." She pointed directly at Junpei. "His name's Junpei, but I call him Jumpy. We've been friends since we were kids."
"Hey," the mountain kept her from saying anything else, concern and worry weirdly evident to at least Junpei. "Part of the reason nobody's saying anything about themselves is coz Zero's probably listening. If they are, then they might use any personal information they hear against us."
Akane blinked in surprise. "Huh?"
"We don't know if Zero grabbed a bunch of random people off the street or if this was planned out. Any information they know is information they can use to hurt us, y'know? Leverage our families against us, ransom us to get whatever they can. Any information is dangerous."
"We still need to know each other's names," Akane protested. "Having conversations will be really hard if we don't have names."
"So we use code names." The mountain looked proud of himself for suggesting that. "Each of us pick our own. I'll be Seven."
Junpei's first instinct was to nod at him because his code name made sense. His second instinct, the stronger one, was to run his mouth. "Why Seven?"
The newly christened Seven grinned. "Coz of my bracelet number." He held up his left hand, revealing the number on the display as 7.
"Damn, that's a smart idea." The punk seemed impressed with Seven's plan. "Then just call me Santa." As if he expected people to ask him follow-up questions, he continued with a smirk. "Three in Japanese is 'san', right? And that way I can be San-ta. Santa. Like Santa Claus. Works, right?" He seemed so proud of himself.
The older man looked as if he was understanding something about Santa. "So your bracelet number is—"
Santa held out his left wrist displaying the digital number 3. "Good job, grandpa. It's a three."
"Okay, I'll go next. My bracelet is number one. Ergo, I think Ace is a fair code name for me." The older man—Ace—held out his left wrist to reveal the bright 1 on its face.
The older woman chose to go next. "Call me Lotus. I'm sure everyone knows that the lotus flower has eight petals. Of course that means my bracelet number is eight." She held out her left wrist, the 8 visible from even where Junpei was standing.
The handsome man was quick on the draw, following Lotus before anyone else could speak. "I would appreciate it if you would call me Snake." He held out his left wrist to show his 2. "My bracelet number is two. I figure the card motif for Ace leaves dice for myself. Snake-eyes seems especially relevant considering I am blind." Everyone but the girl in pink seemed surprised by this information. Well, her and Junpei.
"You can't see?" Ace's brow furrowed even deeper as he stared at Snake.
"I knew it," Lotus hissed, even though she seemed just as taken aback as everyone else.
Junpei, however, was mulling over why he wasn't thrown off by the revelation that Snake was blind. He hadn't known that, had he? But it wasn't a surprise and, really, it made sense because the girl in pink kept holding him by the wrist and—
His headache flared and he had to take slow, deep breaths to get the pain to lessen.
Thankfully, the girl in pink volunteered to think up a code name. "My turn! I want to be Clover. Like a four-leaf clover? A good luck charm!" She idly showed everyone the 4 bracelet on her left wrist. "I've got bracelet number four."
Junpei figured that he was numerically next. "Okay so I've got bracelet number five and—"
"Why bother?" Lotus cut him off. When Junpei didn't seem to get why she did that, she waved her hand at him and Akane. "We already know your name is Junpei. It's pointless."
Junpei couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. He wanted a cool code name and all but, well, not having to think up something relevant to the number five was a bit of a gift from Lotus, whether she intended it to be or not.
Akane frowned. "Then you should call me by my name too, since I gave Jumpy's away." She fidgeted with her sleeves, nervous. She didn't really want to do this but she felt obligated.
That wouldn't do. "What's your bracelet number?" Junpei asked her. She held out her left wrist, showing off the 6 bracelet. Junpei gave it a moment's thought, then found something. "June."
Akane stared at him with wide, startled eyes. She looked like a baby rabbit being gently scooped up by their human caretaker.
"June?" Ace seemed confused.
"Sixth month of the year?" It wasn't a question, more of a clarification, but being put on the spot made Junpei nervous. He turned back to Akane, meeting her eyes. "So you're June." He wasn't asking and she seemed confused.
"Jumpy, you—"
"Is that okay?" He tried to give her his most charming smile but it must have looked silly because she snorted.
"...Yeah. I'll be June." It was a slow, almost reluctant agreement but she did it anyway. Now Junpei was the only one who didn't have a code name. That was fine. Learning to answer to another name would've been hard anyway.
He tried to keep telling himself that so he didn't get jealous of Seven or Santa of all people.
"So to recap: one is Ace, two is Snake, three is Santa, four is Clover, five is me, six is June, seven is Seven, and eight is Lotus." Everyone nodded as Junpei repeated their numbers and names, pointing to each of them in turn. "All that leaves is—"
"The guy with the glasses and the wild hair," Seven finished for Junpei. Everyone looked over at him.
He was sweating still, dark stains forming in his armpits, and his glasses were patchy with fog. His hair, still a wild puff like a dandelion, was sticking to his forehead and neck in places. He looked pale and twitchy, his eyes flicking across the room every couple of seconds. He seemed almost moments away from passing out.
Santa closed the distance with him and bent forward, sneering a little. "You haven't said a thing this whole damn time."
He gaped a little and made a strangled noise.
Clover slowly walked towards him, pushing Santa back a bit. She placed her hands on her hips, cocked them, and eyed the man suspiciously. "What's your number?"
"Uh..." It was the closest to words they'd gotten from him yet but it still wasn't actually words.
"Are you listening? I asked you a question." Clover snapped at him, still not entirely in his space.
He licked his lips nervously, panting a bit, and finally spoke. "W-w-why are you e-even asking? There are nine people a-a-and you know - you know who one through e-eight are. I'm the - the only one left." His voice was shrill and dry in equal parts, like a styrofoam on styrofoam and pine wood on a campfire. He sounded like he was seconds away from throwing up or passing out.
Clover sighed like she was coaxing an answer out of a small child. "So you're nine?"
The man fixed her with a dull gaze and answered, "Yeah." Then he held out his left wrist to show everyone his bracelet. The digital display showed a 9.
Clover stared at his bracelet like it personally offended her. "And your code name?"
"C-code name?" He repeated.
"What do you want us to call you? We got ours so you should too, unless you wanna be like Jumpy over there." It was a personal dig but June was the one who seemed hurt.
"I don't - I don't need one."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm n-not going to - to stay here. ...With y-y-you." He took a shaky breath in, then exhaled slowly, like he was trying to calm down.
Clover just glared at him like he was something vile. "You've got a plan?" She asked sweetly, her tone not matching the simmering look in her eyes or the set of her shoulders.
"Y-yeah."
"What's that?"
"Y-you sure you want - want to know?"
"Yeah?"
"O-okay. Let me sh-show you. Here's my - my plan!" He stepped forward, closing the distance between himself and Clover and snagged her with his left arm around her waist. For all that he talked like he was terrified, he moved with a blinding purpose and seemed to express no regret.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Santa snarled at the man, lunging for him. He only stopped when the man pulled a small knife from his pocket and pressed the point against Clover's throat.
"Stay back!"
Clover stifled a squeak of fear as the knife pressed hard enough to hurt, but not enough to break skin.
"I-If you get any closer, I'll - I'll cut her open!" The wild look in his eyes let everyone know he wasn't joking. Clover was in legitimate danger.
Santa backed up a little bit but the man's grip didn't loosen. He didn't relax. He just smiled.
Even though he had a hostage, he still looked anxious. His glasses were now nearly obscured with fog save a couple streaks where the lenses touched his cheek and nose. Sweat was soaking the collar of his shirt. He looked like he was barely hanging on.
Junpei still pitied the man. He didn't deserve what was going to happen to him.
"Clover! Are you alright?" Snake's question was soaked in fear, his concern seemingly out of place.
"Yeah," Clover's response was hoarse, "I'm fine."
"What the hell's your problem? What do you want?" Junpei's voice shook. Not with fear, but with anger.
"Like I s-said! This i-i-is my plan!" The man's knife arm shook.
"What the hell are you gonna do to her, you sick sonofabitch?" Seven, back behind even Santa, took a step forward. His face was drawn in furious concern, his eyes trained steadily on the knife the ninth man had in his hand.
"N-nothing, if she d-does what I - what I tell her to." The knife point shook where it touched Clover's skin, the ninth man's sweaty hand unsteady despite his bold words. "Then I'll - I'll let her go." Then he backed up, dragging Clover with him. She let out a soft squeak of fear and backed up with him, unwilling to let his knife draw blood. "Th-that's right. Follow me." For all his bravado, he looked terrified. His sneer pulled at his mouth, pulling out the tension that would indicate how deeply afraid he was. This was an act of desperation, planned or otherwise.
What about the Nonary Games was so awful that this man would take a hostage to avoid it? Should they be worried too? Junpei didn't have time to think as the ninth man dragged Clover back to the wall, everyone following at a distance so he didn't stab her. When he reached the wall near the numbered doors, he startled and glanced around at everyone, eyes wide behind his fogged glasses.
"V-verify," he demanded. Clover looked confused.
"Huh?"
"L-look to your left. The device on the wall." The ninth man waited for Clover to look where he was telling her, then continued. "Place your hand on - on the scanner panel. Th-the round part."
"And if I don't?" Junpei's heart leapt into his throat. Now was not the time to be obstinate, Clover.
Thankfully—or not, it was a strange situation in the first place—the ninth man also seemed to find her sass stupid given the position she was in. "W-what the hell do you th-think will happen?" He dug the point of the knife into her neck, drawing blood, and she grimaced in pain. "I would - would slit your throat! I could kill y-you any time I wanted but I just - I just want you to v-v-verify!" Clover glared at him, refusing to budge. Her eyes flicked out at the crowd, to Snake, and then back to the ninth man. "Just do it!"
"Fine." Clover stretched her left out out towards the scanner for the 5 door and placed her palm flat against it. It took a couple seconds because her back was to it but when she managed, there was a beep and an asterisk appeared on the display.
The scanner and the device seemed to function in the same way the keycard reader had in the room Junpei had woken up in. More than likely, it needed a digital root to open the door and, seeing as it was the 5 door...Ace was next on the list. But why did the ninth man know how the doors worked? Junpei was only guessing himself.
"G-g-good. You're done." The ninth man let out a heavy breath, shoulders sinking as some kind of tension left him. His grip on the knife and where it pressed into Clover's neck didn't move, however, and his eyes flicked from person to person until he stopped on Ace. "You. You have the number one bracelet, r-right?"
Ace leveled his gaze at the ninth man, his face betraying nothing. "Yes," he said calmly, "I am." Ace must have come to the same conclusion Junpei had because he didn't ask any follow-up questions of the ninth man.
"C-come over here and verify your number, like this - this little brat did." When Ace didn't move, the ninth man's composure slipped and he shouted, "Don't y-you care about what happens to her?"
Ace frowned and held his hands up as if he was soothing a wild beast. "Okay, okay. Calm down. Here I come." The ninth man jerked his chin towards the scanner but didn't move otherwise. He kept his grip on Clover tight, the knife as steady as his nervous clutch could hold it. Without prompting, Ace placed his left hand on the scanner and the device beeped again. Another asterisk appeared on the digital display. If Junpei's math was right, the only number the ninth man needed to open the door now was his own.
"B-b-back up!" He shifted his grip on Clover and commanded Ace, who did as he was told. One step, then two, then three. All the way back to the group, hands up as if he was at knifepoint himself. He didn't need any prompting from the ninth man, well aware of what was being demanded of him. Then the ninth man's terrified expression morphed into something gleeful. He laughed and laughed, then leveled his gaze on everyone. "Th-thank you for being so cooperative. I hope you enjoy this hell without me."
Without looking at it, he placed his left hand against the scanner panel. A third asteriks appeared on the display and he pulled the lever. The 5 door opened with a metallic groan, like something dying. The ninth man's smile widened. "I d-don't need you anymore!" He shoved Clover towards the group, causing her to stumble. She fell to the ground as the ninth man stepped through the 5 door into the hallway beyond. He sneered at everyone and waved, a mocking farewell. "Keep her. Have a good one. I'll see you l-later. Goodbye..." The door swung closed with the same noise as before, cutting the ninth man off from everyone else.
Snake ran out to Clover, kneeling down to help her back to her feet. "Are you alright?!"
Clover reached up and wiped away a bead of blood on her neck where the knife had pressed too hard. She was staring at the ground, a mix of frustration and disgust on her face. "I'm fine." She didn't sound fine but she leaned against Snake, seemingly relieved by his presence. He rested his head on hers, also relieved.
Junpei ran towards the door and swore, angry that none of them could have prevented Clover from being taken hostage. "Bastard!" Santa, Seven, and Ace came up behind him and the four of them tried to force the 5 door open to no avail. When they realized it wasn't moving, they all let go, panting heavily. "Dammit!" Junpei kicked the door, wincing as pain shot up his leg.
"Do you hear something?" Lotus asked.
Junpei looked back at her. She looked uncomfortable, her head cocked slightly as if she was trying to focus in on whatever noise it was. "What?"
"There's a...beeping?" She frowned and pressed her ear against the door. Junpei and everyone else there followed suit.
Behind the cold metal of the door was a steady electronic beeping.
"You're right..." June's voice was soft and concerned.
"What is it?" Santa seemed horrified by the noise, like it was an omen of some kind. Junpei was feeling the same way about it.
And then, muffled by the metal and probably by distance, the voice of the ninth man could be heard. "Shit! Why isn't this stopping? Goddammit!" The beeping remained constant, the fear in his voice rising. "You - you lied to me!"
Junpei stared at the door. "Lied? Who lied to you?" He wasn't sure if the ninth man could even hear him between the beeping, the metal of the door, and the rushing of the ninth man's own heart in the face of fear and betrayal.
On the other side of the door, presumably having run all the way from wherever he had been before, the ninth man banged on the door. The noise was desperate and Junpei winced, sympathetic pain rushing through his own fists. "Th-this wasn't supposed to happen! This is wrong!" The ninth man sounded like he was crying.
Whether out of shock or a sense of self-preservation, everyone stepped away from the door and looked at one another. Ace was the first to speak, his voice loud enough that the ninth man could hear him. "What is happening in there?"
The ninth man beat his fists against the door again, in spite of the futility, his voice cracking as he screamed out to the people on the other side. "Open the - open the door! Please! I'm begging you! Help me!" Junpei could imagine the ninth man sliding against the smooth, cold, unfeeling metal of the 5 door, clawing at a surface that would not yield as he desperately tried to escape. "Let me out! Let me out!"
Against his better judgment, Junpei felt another pang of pity for the ninth man. Sure, he had taken Clover hostage and used her for his own selfish needs, but he didn't deserve to die for it. None of them deserved to die. "Dammit." Shaking his head, he stepped to the device and stopped. The digital display, which before this mess had read 'VACANT', now said 'ENGAGED'. The room behind door 5 was occupied, not unlike a toilet, and nobody would be able to verify, even if their digital root was five. Junpei looked back at the door and the other people, panicked and horrified understanding obvious to everyone.
The ninth man banged on the door again, faster, harder. "There's no time left!" Again, he sounded like he was sobbing. Something was happening and he couldn't do anything about it. None of them could. "Listen—" his voice, still shaking, was deathly serious, "I was - I was lied to! He lied to me, put me in here!"
Being manipulated didn't excuse the ninth man from taking Clover at knifepoint, though.
"He killed me!" The seriousness had left the ninth man's voice, replaced again by panic and terror. "It was him!" Then he started screaming, wordless and terrified.
There was an explosion on the other side of the door that rattled everyone, physically and emotionally. Everyone had dropped to the ground, covering their heads, and when they stood up, what had happened seemed to finally sink in. Junpei felt ill and it seemed as though the others did too. Lotus had a hand pressed against her mouth, eyes wide as she stared at door 5. Even Ace, who had been so calm to this point, was pale.
The device at the door beeped. Junpei looked at it and saw it read 'VACANT' again. With the ninth man dead, the door was considered empty again. They could go in.
"Why don't we try and open it?" Seven suggested. Junpei swallowed bile and nodded at him. They needed to make sure they understood the rules, even if they had to see a corpse to do so.
Junpei placed his left hand on the scanner, verifying his number. He motioned for Seven to do so as well, then called to Snake. "Hey Snake? We need your number."
Seven placed his large hand on the scanner and verified his number, then made way for Snake, who peeled away from Clover and walked to the 5 door. After Snake verified, Junpei checked his math and, satisfied that the digital root was five, grabbed the lever. "Ready?" He didn't know what was going to be on the other side of the door—probably whatever remained of the ninth man—but he wanted to make sure he wasn't dragging Seven and Snake into a situation without their permission. They both nodded at him, concerned but willing to brave this unknown. Junpei pulled the lever and the door opened wide again, the hinges screaming like the ninth man's ghost still was clawing away at it.
A wave of rancid air tore out, the metallic smell of blood and cooked meat, acrid sourness burning his eyes. Junpei slapped a hand over his mouth and fought his body's attempt at retching. He couldn't make it worse. He tried to not turn away, staring down the open doorway at the remains of the ninth man.
Lotus and Ace both uttered oaths under their breaths. Lotus eventually turned away, shaking, while Ace just stared, his face ashen.
Seven tried to remain as even-keeled as he could. "That's...awful."
"He...exploded." Santa could barely speak, his voice a harsh whisper as he took in the carnage.
The inside of the door, along with the hallway behind it, were painted in dark red blood. Chunks of flesh and organs were scattered along the way, pulpy remains of the ninth man the only testament to his existence aside from their memories of him.
June let out a shriek of horror and collapsed to the floor. Junpei turned and tried to catch her before she hit the ground and behind him he could hear the door groan shut. The smell cleared but everyone was still unsettled by what they had witnessed to really talk about it. Plus, Junpei was too worried about June to bother with being nauseated. He knelt next to her and tried to support her and as he wrapped his arm around her, he recoiled. She was hot enough that he could feel it against his skin.
"You're burning up!" Junpei wasn't sure why. She had been fine earlier. Why is this happening now?
June seemed as though she couldn't answer, her body wracked with shaking. Her breath came in short gasps and she leaned into Junpei's arms.
"Okay," Junpei took a deep breath, exhaled, and smiled softly at June. "Why don't we take a break. You can rest, we can talk about this, alright? Can you stand?" June nodded and Junpei supported her as he stood up and walked her to a chair. She sat down and placed her head in her hands. Junpei didn't know what to say to her to make it better.
"Are you okay?" His voice was low, caring, quiet. He didn't want to frighten her any more than she already was.
June nodded, a tear dripping off her chin and onto her lap, darkening her clothes. "Why did this happen?" Her shaking, no longer feverish, was simply just her sobbing. Her voice was choked and wracked with grief and horror. Junpei didn't have a good answer for her that didn't boil down to 'Zero wanted this'. All he could do was just try and support her, make sure she was okay.
Junpei turned to look at everyone else, "Do any of you know what the fuck is going on?" He didn't feel the need to elaborate what he was asking, certain everyone knew what he meant. "What the hell is even happening?"
Nobody answered. Everyone was busy looking at the floor, faces twisted in expressions of horror and deep thought. Lotus, Seven, Snake, Clover, Ace, and Santa kept their thoughts to themselves. It made Junpei frustrated but he understood. Everyone was terrified. Nobody knew what to do. Nobody trusted anyone enough to give away their hand. Junpei turned back to June, irritated.
It's not like he wasn't keeping secrets himself. Akane...June was...well he couldn't fault them too much. But still...
He let June continue to cry. She needed to let it out. After a while, the clock ticking away in the background, she slowly stopped. The clock rang out ten times. They were running out of time. They only had eight hours now.
"Ten o' clock." Ace's words were grim. Like everyone else, he didn't want to think about the deadline they had.
"Fuck! I'm done with this!" Santa jumped off the stairs where he had been sitting, his fists clenched. "Are we just gonna sit here and just let Zero win? We've only got eight hours left! Let's fucking go!" Nobody answered him, their faces just as blank and empty as Junpei felt. Santa's frustration turned to fury as he looked for someone, anyone to look at him and agree with him.
Lotus was the first person to speak. "I'm not going to end up like...that."
"The ninth man?" Santa bristled.
"Of course." She stared at the 5 door, eyes nearly lifeless, seeming to replay the grim scene behind the metal.
It's not as if Junpei himself wasn't haunted by it. The way his lower torso was just...chunks, his upper body folded over the mess that his stomach used to be, what remained of his face painted in his own gore. He had been framed by what remained of his intestines, the pinkish yellow spires of his ribs like the fingers of death grasping out of hell for him. His glasses were shattered and splattered with blood, a couple feet from his prone corpse. It was going to haunt Junpei every time he closed his eyes.
Santa's eyes were dark. His mouth was a thin, pale line, the color leeching from his lips as he thought about it. Still, he didn't seem like he pitied the ninth man. "I think he fucked up." When everyone looked at him in confusion, he elaborated. "He did something wrong, set off some kinda trap, that's why he died. I'm not gonna be that stupid. I'm gettin' out of here."
Something about that made Snake break out into laughter. He leaned against Clover, pressing a hand against his face.
"What the hell is so funny?!" Santa closed the distance between the two and grabbed a fistful of his jacket. Even though Snake was blind, Santa was obviously trying to intimidate him.
"Oh, nothing," Snake eked out between laughs, "you were just so...confident. I just couldn't resist."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I think you've misunderstood what happened to the ninth man." Snake shook off Santa's grip, smiling at him, though there was something mirthless about the situation. "His death was not because of a trap. Or, rather, not in the way you would imagine."
"Huh?"
"He broke one of Zero's rules. That is why he died. If you think about it, it is very simple." At Santa's silence, Snake continued. "Or maybe I am asking too much of you. Think back to what Zero wrote on that card you had. Namely: what they said about the number of people."
"They said 'only three to five people can pass through one numbered door', right?"
"And after that?" Snake prompted.
Santa frowned, deep in thought. Junpei could almost smell the smoke coming off of him. Junpei, however, got what Snake was trying to say.
"'All that enter must leave and all who enter must contribute', right?" Junpei hadn't meant to say that out loud but it didn't matter. It was the answer Snake was looking for.
"Very good, Junpei. A gold star for you." It almost felt patronizing as Snake tilted his head at Junpei as if to indicate him. "The ninth man, however, broke that rule. He entered a numbered door by himself. Therefore he was executed." Executed was a kind way of putting it, but yes, Snake was probably right.
Seven didn't seem to like what that was implying, however. "If Zero knew he broke a rule, then they're probably watching us right now."
"I highly doubt that," Snake refuted.
Seven blinked in confusion. "Well why not?"
"The execution system is likely entirely automatic. You weren't aware? Zero doesn't need to monitor us." Snake seemed so sure of himself and yet...
"What?"
With something that almost seemed like pity—or resignation—Snake shook his head and waved his left hand about in the general direction of the two numbered doors. "I suppose I will tell you. I waited long enough, hoping Zero would spare me the trouble. It is beginning to seem increasingly unlikely." Even though he was blind, it was likely that Snake could feel everyone's confused—or in Santa and Seven's case, irritated—stares.
"Do you know something?" Ace asked.
"I know a great many things, actually."
"What is it you know about the rules of the Nonary Games?" Ace pressed, being more specific. Snake's response was to pull a card from his jacket pocket and hand it to Ace with an almost delighted smile. Ace took the card and frowned. "What's the point of giving me this?"
Santa cut in, stepping close to Ace and snatched the card from his grasp. Then all his frustration turned into confusion. "What the hell?"
Seven took the card next, plucking it from Santa's grasp as if he was pulling it from a rolodex. It didn't take him long to understand what Santa and Ace hadn't. He passed it to Lotus who passed it to June who handed it to Junpei. That's when Junpei remembered what was so weird about this card. It was in braille. The only person who could have read it was Snake.
Junpei passed it back to Snake who graciously took it with the same smile he had given Ace. Or, no, not a smile, a smirk. He had been playing with them.
"So aside from making fun of us, what's the point of that card?" Lotus put her hand on her hip and gave Snake the most scathing look she could muster. If he could see her, he would have been sweating. As it was, he was immune. Lucky.
"I found it in my pocket when I woke up here. I can only assume it is a message from Zero."
June squeaked out, "W-what does it say?"
As if he hadn't just made fools of them, everyone but Junpei and Clover surrounded Snake, desperate to learn whatever information Zero had given him. Clover was still sitting on the stairs, rolling her eyes as if she was just disappointed with the whole exchange and Junpei hung back because he didn't want to crowd him.
"Hold on. If you will give me a moment, I will read it. No need to force me." Everyone backed up a bit to give him space, even though Santa looked like he was seconds away from grabbing Snake's tie and strangling him with it. When he seemed to feel everyone had calmed down enough, he began to read, fingers gliding across the raised bumps on the card. "Bracelet number two, since you are not blessed with sight I shall bless you—and only you—with information. I shall tell you of the function of the RED, of the DEAD, and of the bracelet. The RED is the Recognition Device. It will verify your number. Beside every numbered door, you will find a RED. The DEAD is the Deactivation Device. It does exactly what it says. Once you have passed through the numbered door you must use the DEAD to stop the detonator in your bracelet."
Before anyone could cry out in horror or ask him any questions, Snake continued on, trying to power through the information Zero gave him so everyone would know what he knows. "But perhaps you are wondering 'What does this detonator detonate?' I am afraid this might be something of a surprise. I have placed a small bomb inside of you, and the people whom you are about to meet. You swallowed it while you were unconscious. I have no doubt that by the time you read this note, the bomb will have passed your stomach and found its way into your small intestine. In other words, you will be unable to regurgitate it. I suggest you do not try."
Nausea curled through Junpei but he could recognize the truth in what Zero was saying. If they swallowed bombs when they were knocked unconscious at midnight yesterday, then they weren't going to be able to vomit them back up. They just had to deal with them as they were...a threat to their life if they didn't play by Zero's rule.
"As I mentioned before," Snake continued, his voice level and nigh unshakable in the face of such horrid information, "the bracelet on your left hand contains a detonator. Think of it as a remote fuse, or timer, for the bomb in your body. There is only one condition which will cause it to detonate. That condition is that you enter a numbered door. Once you have done so, the timer will activate, no matter who you may be. You will have eighty one seconds. If, after that time, the detonator has not yet been deactivated, it will send a signal to the bomb in your body, instructing it to explode. In order to deactivate the detonator, every person who verified their number at the RED must also verify their numbers at the DEAD. Once all numbers have been verified by the DEAD, you need only pull the lever at its side and the countdown will cease."
A cold chill ran up Junpei's spine. Because the ninth man had verified Clover and Ace but hadn't brought them in with him, he was short two numbers for the DEAD. Thus...
"Anyone who does not verify their number at the RED will find themselves unable to verify their number at the DEAD. That is to say, if you should pass through a numbered door without first verifying your number at the RED, in eighty one seconds you will be dead. You must also keep in mind that the numbered doors will close automatically after nine seconds have passed. So long as the door is open, the DEAD will not function. You would do well to remember this. Lastly, let us discuss how to remove the bracelets. There are only two ways to do so. One: you escape from this ship. Two: your heart rate reaches zero. In other words, once the bracelet is taken outside the confines of the ship, or detects that its wearer's heartbeat has fallen to zero, it will shut down automatically. There is no other way to remove your bracelet. If you attempt to force it off, or disable the detonator, the bomb within you will immediately explode." Snake frowned at the card in his hands and took a breath, giving everyone a second to process this information.
"This is all the information which I can impart to you. How you choose to use it is for you to decide. If used wisely you can eliminate those who might be a danger to you. For a time you would be able to control your fate. I wish you the best of luck." Snake finished, unable to see the way almost everyone else was eyeing him with suspicion, and pocketed the card. He smoothed his pocket and waved a hand. "That is all."
It was extremely useful information and the fact that Snake had willingly shared it with everyone when given the chance made him look really good. Not that Junpei needed any assurance that Snake was on their side. While he seemed aloof and sharp around the edges, he actually cared about making it out of here. If he didn't, he wouldn't have said anything.
Junpei might've been the only one who felt this way, however. Seven and Santa were both shoving their fingers in their mouths, trying furiously to force themselves to regurgitate the bomb that absolutely wouldn't be possible to throw up. Lotus, June, and Ace were all frowning, uncomfortable looking, touching either their bracelets or their stomachs. Only Clover, Junpei, and Snake were seemingly unaffected by this news, though not happy. Clover looked a little ill, Snake looked like he was in a cold sweat, and Junpei did actually feel like he was going to hurl. Seven and Santa making horrid gagging noises and half-accomplished retching sounds didn't help settle his stomach.
Junpei took a deep breath and exhaled, swallowing the spit that had collected in his mouth, then looked out at everyone. "Alright, one more time: does anyone know anything about Zero? Anything?" Nobody said a damn thing, all of them looking at one another, waiting to see who would talk first.
Surprisingly, Santa said something. "I...actually saw them. Zero, I mean. When I got grabbed. I didn't see their face, though. Son of a bitch was wearing a gas mask." Everyone else startled a bit, seeming to recognize that description of their kidnapper. Everyone.
Everyone had seen Zero in a gas mask.
Santa looked confused. "C'mon everyone, gimme some kind of reaction. Surprise, maybe?"
But Lotus surprised him by admitting, "I saw that too."
"I did as well," Ace added.
"Me too. I couldn't see inside the mask." Clover said, tugging on her sleeve nervously.
"That mask was really scary," June confessed.
Santa frowned as he did the math. Thankfully for him, Junpei had already realized. "All of our abductions were the same then." Everyone was silently enrapt as he spoke. "We were taken from home, at midnight. The person claiming to be Zero had a mask on. There was white smoke, then each of us passed out. We woke up on D-deck in a room with a three level bunk bed." When nobody contradicted him, Junpei turned to the odd man out. "What about you, Seven? Is that right?"
"Me?" Seven was a little slow to answer, his face contorted as he thought really hard about something. "Uh, yeah..."
Junpei let it go. It wasn't Seven's fault, after all.
"Hey, I gotta question," Santa spoke up. When everyone looked at him, he tilted his head at Snake and Clover. "Why the hell were you taken from the same place?" The way he was smirking at the two of them seemed to indicate he was insinuating something. Junpei fought a grimace. It wasn't like that.
"You ass!" Clover snarled at him. She took very poorly to his assumption, apparently, and Junpei couldn't blame her. "That's my brother!"
Santa was taken aback. "Brother?"
"Yeah!" Clover gestured at Snake with her hand as she sneered at Santa. "What kind of freak are you, assuming something like that?"
"Now, now," Snake seemed like he was trying to calm Clover down, speaking carefully to her, "I'm sure he did not mean anything by it. We were keeping quiet about it, after all."
Santa struggled for a response, opting to just shake his head and sigh.
"Are there any more questions regarding me and my sister?" Snake seemed, if not annoyed, at least a little defensive. Though it seemed more for Clover's sake than his own.
"Uh, yeah?" Seven was confused, admittedly, but still had questions.
"Why? There are other people who have connections. Those two, specifically." Snake pointed between Junpei and June.
"Oh, you mean Jumpy and me?" June perked up.
Ace, at least, understood what Snake was getting to. "You did say that you were childhood friends, didn't you?"
"You went to school together?" Lotus seemed to not buy that. Junpei didn't blame her, but he also couldn't help but feel a little irritated at her pressing. Now he knew how Snake and Clover felt.
"Yeah..." June looked at Junpei as if she was waiting for him to take the lead.
He felt a little put upon and uncomfortable but he nodded in agreement. "Yeah." There was no reason to lie to them, after all. Snake and Clover had explained their relationship. Honesty allowed everyone to work together better.
"You think we can figure Zero out this way?" Santa seemed disinterested in their relationship as a concept and more as some kind of tool to suss out what was going on.
"Huh, you're...not wrong." Seven seemed like he figured out what Santa was trying to say. "If we draw lines of connection between the victims, we can sniff out the perp. Easy."
"Does any of this ring a bell?" Lotus asked both Junpei and June.
June blinked at her, confused. "Huh?" Junpei, however, remembered what she was asking them.
"Oh, uh, I don't think so. We were friends in elementary school, really. I don't think either of us knew anyone with the means to buy a ship this big." Or someone who could or would set up a murder puzzle game on said ship.
Lotus looked put-off by how quickly he answered. Even June, who until that moment hadn't understood what she wanted, seemed surprised and a little amused. "Oh, no, Jumpy is right. I don't think there were any particularly rich people who attended our school."
"Well we can't assume that Zero is a rich individual." Ace's matter-of-fact theory caught everyone off guard. "I would say it's more likely that the people running the Nonary Game are a large organization and Zero is simply the representative."
"What kind of organization would do this?" Seven seemed unconvinced by Ace's theory. "That's just an investigation waiting to happen. One person can hide their tracks better than four or more."
Ace shrugged. "It could be the military or maybe a research group. Perhaps this is even some kind of psychological experiment. A stress test for human ingenuity and problem solving."
"If it is an experiment, it's fucked up." Santa waved a hand towards door 5 and the mess behind it. "A man is dead! What kind of data will a dead subject get you? Jack and shit." The thought of the ninth man's demise hung heavy over everyone, immediately bringing down the energy in the room. Santa continued through gritted teeth, "Whoever Zero is, they're fucked in the head. This is hell. We're in hell."
Despite the time limit they had, the need to consolidate information and try and figure out the who and why of their kidnappings ate through a fair amount of ten o'clock. Conversational topics ranged from alternate routes out of here to even just waiting it out and calling Zero's bluff. Junpei was aware of time passing but he couldn't shake the feeling that it didn't matter in the end. They would finish their discussion and then move out. It would be fine.
Thankfully, Santa had enough of everyone wasting time chatting. "Oh my god, okay. Shut up. All we've done for the past half hour has been talk. We need to go." He threw his hands up in frustration. "We need to get the hell out of here. You wanna drown? I don't! We've wasted an hour and a half talking and fucking about. I, for one, don't plan on wasting another goddamn minute." The energy in the room went from tense to electric and, unlike the last time someone suggested they go through the numbered doors, nobody argued with him. Not even Lotus.
In fact, she agreed with Santa, even if it seemed to almost pain her to do so. "You're right."
"Very well then. I suppose we only have one avenue of action," Ace said.
"Man, I hate havin' to jump when Zero says 'jump'." Seven grimaced at the numbered doors.
"Better than sitting around with our thumbs up our asses," Clover rolled her eyes, even though she seemed uncomfortable with the thought of going through the numbered doors as well. Her bravado was just that: a front.
"At least Snake's card gave us extra information about the rules of the Nonary Game," Lotus said.
"Agreed. So long as we follow those rules, we should...most likely be alright." Snake changed his wording mid-statement. The uncertainty of what he was saying wasn't lost on anyone but it wouldn't do them any good to dwell on the possibilities.
"So...who's going to go in which door?" June asked.
They could only have a maximum of five people in one door, a minimum of three, and the digital roots they had to reach were four and five. Between the eight remaining people, they could feasibly go in both doors with those limitations but it would be an uneven split and that couldn't guarantee that whoever was in whichever room would move on first. And there was the issue of who would be going in door 5, past the remains of the ninth man. That in and of itself would be a trial.
Lotus was quick on the draw. "I am not going in door five." Junpei didn't blame her, really. He'd only opened the door and the sight and smell nearly put him out of commission.
"Now is not the time to be selfish—" Ace started but Lotus cut him off.
"Call me whatever the hell you want, I will not be going in that goddamn door!" She was firm enough that Ace backed up a little. Smart man.
Before Ace could say something that might get him smacked, Junpei agreed with Lotus. "I don't think I can go in there."
"Me neither." Santa sneered at Ace, daring him to challenge his decision. "I just bought these shoes. If I get blood and guts on them, I'm gonna be pissed. They weren't cheap."
Ace, obviously outnumbered, shook his head in defeat. "Alright. I suppose that means we have our groups?"
"Yeah." Junpei did some quick math in his head. With him, Lotus, and Santa going through door 4, that meant that the person they needed to make a digital root of four was June. That left Ace, Seven, Snake, and Clover to go through door 5. While he didn't like that Clover was going to have to be subjected to the ninth man's remains, he also didn't know what lay behind that door. Door 4 was something he knew well enough to...
His head hurt.
"June," Santa snapped, getting her attention, "you're with us. Everyone else should be a digital root of five."
Everyone did the math in their head or on their hands. Like Santa said, that was how they had to divide the group if they wanted to all go through the doors. And, as selfish as it might seem, it did mean Junpei could spend time with June—with Akane. He hadn't seen her in so long and he was so worried she might get hurt.
If Lotus was going to be selfish—and Santa—then Junpei could as well. He just wouldn't make it as obvious.
The group going into door 5 decided that they would go first, just to test if the RED and DEAD systems worked like how Zero said they did. Junpei was certain this was more of a way to assuage their fears but he couldn't fault anyone for worrying. It's not as if they had concrete evidence Zero wouldn't fuck them over or anything. All Junpei had was a gut feeling and that wasn't going to keep everyone else from thinking they were going to just straight explode because the Nonary Game was unfair.
One-by-one, Snake, Clover, Seven, and Ace verified their bracelets at the RED. Then, face set with grim determination, Ace grabbed the lever and looked back at the group going through door 4. "Now then. Goodbye."
Lotus met his eyes and, in a soft and concerned tone that Junpei hadn't heard her use before, only said, "Good luck."
Ace didn't respond, only pulled the lever. The door swung open like the mouth of some starving beast, already having devoured one of them. The rancid smell of the ninth man's remains wafted out and everyone held back vomit as best they could, all of them wrinkling their noses and covering their mouths. Despite their hesitation over navigating through his remains, all four of them couldn't afford to waffle for too long.
It was Snake who finally pushed them to move. Being blind, he didn't need to worry about seeing the carnage—though the smell was likely just as bad, if not worse—so he stepped in the hallway, past the door, and began to make his way down the hallway. As he walked through the blood and gore, his shoes making wet noises and kicking up the viscera, he turned back and tilted his head at his companions. "Are we going? We need to hurry."
"Your shoes—"
"It's fine." Snake cut off Clover, his voice sharp. "Do you plan on dying like he did? We cannot afford to waste time."
"Right, sorry."
As if they remembered they only had nine seconds before the door closed—and eighty-one seconds before they suffered the ninth man's fate—they all entered the door before it swung closed. Everyone left behind scrambled to press themselves against door 5 so they could make sure that group was okay.
"How's it going?" Santa shouted. "Did you find the DEAD?"
Junpei could hear the ominous beeping of their watches. His stomach sunk into his feet. "The detonator."
"Like the ninth man." Lotus sounded like she was going to be ill.
"Do you think they're okay?" June asked. She was tugging on her hair, a nervous habit she apparently hadn't gotten rid of since Junpei had last seen her.
Though it hadn't been in response to any of their questions, Seven did say something. "There it is!" Thank god for his extremely loud voice. Even if he wasn't intentionally shouting, being able to hear Seven through thick metal and across a hallway was actually a relief. "That's the DEAD, isn't it? Get over here so we can authenticate!"
The beeping of the detonators stopped. It seemed like Zero hadn't been lying to Snake. The DEAD did deactivate them, preventing them from blowing up. Everyone let out a breath, even Junpei, who was surprised he was so tense.
On the other side of the door, the group there also were sighing in relief. "Well, looks like we're in the green." Seven chuckled, trying to make light of what had, until that moment, been a life-or-death situation.
Now that they weren't deafened by their own heartbeat, Junpei got close to the door again and yelled out, "You guys okay?!"
Clover was the one who answered. "Yup! The DEAD works!" She had some lungs on her. Even with the metal and all, she wasn't too muffled. "Speaking of: lemme tell you what you're looking for. The DEAD looks like the RED but blue! Like the RED, you verify your numbers and pull the lever."
"Thanks! That helps a lot!" Junpei shouted back. It already had, judging by how June, Lotus, and Santa seemed to have released some of the tension in their body.
"We should move on now. Be careful!" Ace's voice was just as clear as Seven's. Maybe they'd put all the screamers in one group.
Junpei stifled a snort of amusement, instead choosing to just reply to his warning. "You too!"
Content that the RED and DEAD system worked like they were told, the four of them walked to door 4 and gathered their nerves. Junpei was the first one to authenticate, somewhat relieved when the asterisk appeared on the display. Santa, Lotus, and June followed suit. Before he pulled the lever, he looked at everyone there, trying to gauge their emotions. "Ready?" They nodded at him and he pulled the RED's lever. Like door 5, the metal doors swung open, screaming like they were starving. "Let's go!" The four of them walked in the door and made their way down the hall as they swung shut behind them, trapping them in the numbered room.
Junpei looked down at his left wrist, to the bracelet. The beeping that had preceded the ninth man's death had started up and beneath the blue number 5 on the display was a red skull that flashed in time with the noise. The detonator was active. They needed to find the DEAD as soon as possible. Junpei didn't want to waste any time standing around. Eighty-one seconds wasn't anything to sniff at, but it was still a minute and some. That wasn't a lot of time.
"Where the hell's the DEAD?" Santa was panicking. So were Lotus and June. Junpei wasn't calm, but he wasn't as upset as the others.
"How the hell would I know?" Lotus snapped back.
"We need to find it!"
While they were arguing, Junpei was running as fast as he could. The DEAD wasn't by the entrance, so it had to be further in. Behind him, June, Santa, and Lotus seemed to understand what he was doing and followed quickly. They ran like their lives depended on it. To be fair, their lives did depend on them running quickly, but it was astonishing to watch Lotus tear down the hall in heels like that. She wasn't falling behind in the slightest. In fact, she was very close to overtaking Junpei, even with his head start.
The hallway they were in had about nine or eight wooden doors on either side. While the others looked at the doors, unsure if the DEAD was in any of them, Junpei wasn't even straying from his path. The DEAD was at the end of this hallway. Santa rattled one of the doors, swearing loudly. June tugged on a doorknob in a panic. Lotus was kicking one of the doors, also swearing.
Junpei finally saw the DEAD and called out to the rest, "Down here! I found it!"
They rushed over and each verified their bracelet. Then, panicked, Santa yanked the lever and the DEAD beeped. The beeping stopped, the red skull went away, and the four of them stood there, panting heavily. All of them were so exhausted, the panic having turned their bones to jelly. Junpei scrubbed sweat off his forehead and wiped his hands on his pants, trying desperately to dry them off. Lotus leaned against the wall by the DEAD, trying to take weight off her feet. June was doubled over, breathing heavily and Santa was next to her, glaring down the hallway at the door they entered through.
When he finally caught his breath again, Junpei took in the area they were in, looking for the way out. Near the DEAD was a set of ornate double doors. On either side of the double doors were two smaller doors, identical to the ones that didn't open in the hallway. Junpei tried the double doors and they didn't budge. Then he noticed the keyhole and the symbol above it. It looked like the male symbol.
"Oh," June leaned over his shoulder and peered at the symbol, "that's Mars!"
"Looks like the male symbol..." Santa peered at it as well. "But it's another one of those annoying doors, huh?"
"I think there's a bunch of other doors and keys and cards, all marked with celestial symbols. We've seen Saturn, the sun, Earth, and now Mars." June brushed her fingers against the burnished brass of the plate that had the symbol on it. She looked thoughtful, her lips pursed as if she was connecting dots only she could see.
Junpei turned to the other two doors, the ones on either side of the Mars door. "Do you think these doors will open?"
"What do you mean?" Lotus had gotten her breath back. She fixed Junpei with a confused look, eyes flicking to Santa and June as well. "The other doors didn't open."
"Well, yeah, but those weren't close to the DEAD." Junpei made a gesture, drawing a line from the door they entered in to all the way down to the DEAD. "I don't think we'd be put in a dead end. It's not fair."
"You think this shit is fair?" Santa's question was barbed, an arrow of frustrated disbelief. "You think Zero cares about being fair?"
"Zero gave Snake actual information." Junpei wasn't sure why he was defending Zero—that was their kidnapper after all—but he knew he was right. "If they wanted us dead, they wouldn't have told us about the RED and DEAD. They wouldn't have told us about the time limit. They wouldn't have made it so both doors could be opened if we had eight of the nine of us—especially considering that nine wouldn't change the digital root of whatever group it was in. If the Nonary Game wasn't fair, we wouldn't be alive."
"So?! Who's to say that this fucker isn't just toying with us?'
Junpei placed his hand on the Mars door. "This. The keyhole is like the ones on A-deck. We're probably supposed to find the Mars key somewhere in here, so the most logical place is in one of these rooms. The ones further away were barred, right?" Lotus and June nodded. Santa didn't respond, too frustrated to speak. "These two are the most likely to be open. There's no harm in trying and, if I'm wrong, we can back up the hallway and try the rest of the doors."
"Who died and made you the leader?" Santa sniped. In spite of his complaining, he grabbed the doorknob for the door on the right. Junpei went for the door on the left. Lotus rolled her eyes but drifted to the right. June moved closer to Junpe. "Let's see if you're right. One...two...three!" At the same time, both Santa and Junpei turned their respective doorknobs and pushed their doors.
Junpei stumbled into the room beyond the door, startled by the lack of resistance. He turned back to see Santa standing in the open door frame. He resisted the urge to smirk at him—and probably failed.
Santa grimaced then rolled his eyes. "You're right this time." All the bite was gone from his voice. "Alright, let's see what we can find." Lotus pushed past him and went into the room, disappearing behind the wall. Santa just sighed and followed her, the door swinging closed behind him.
Neither of them shouted so it was probably safe and the door probably didn't lock behind them. That relied on a lot of uncertainty, mind you, but it was all Junpei could think about as he turned to face June in front of their room.
"You ready?" She nodded and he walked in the room with her behind him.
The room—B92, judging by the plaque on the outside of the door—was a single bed, single bath living quarters. There was a bathroom behind another door down the short foyer to the left. To the right was the rest of the quarters, including a couch and coffee table, a display case, and another door that led to a bedroom.
In the sitting room, Junpei could only stare at the antique furniture in the cabin. It looked so...extravagant. And the whole place was sinking. "What a waste," he sighed.
"Hm?" June looked over at him, then at the display case by the bedroom door. "What's a waste?"
"All this." Junpei waved a hand about the room. "It's so nice and it's going to be under tons of water when we're gone."
June looked about at the furniture and then asked, "Do you think we could sell any of this for some good cash?"
That caught Junpei off-guard and he snorted. "Do you want to carry any of this for however long this Nonary Game lasts?"
June stifled laughter and shook her head. "Not really."
"Me neither." Junpei stared at her, unsure why it was that being in her presence was comforting. He hadn't seen her in years, so why was she so important to him? What about Akane Kuroshiki was compelling enough that being in the same room as her made him feel at ease?
He didn't have time to be a mushy idiot about his childhood friend. He had to find a way off this damn boat in one, unexploded piece.
Something on the coffee table caught his eye and he picked it up. It was a box of matches. Or, rather, a box of match, as in singular. If he was going to use this for something, he had to make it count.
Speaking of fire and the like. "Are you okay, June?"
"What do you mean?" She blinked at him, obviously confused.
Junpei stepped forward and pressed the back of his hand against her forehead. She was cool again, or cool enough to not be in danger. Not like before. "Your fever. I'm glad it's gone away."
"Oh," she blushed and pulled from his hand, playing with her hair. "Uh, thank you. I'm feeling much better."
"I was worried." Junpei slid the box of match in his pocket and started rummaging in the display case, looking for any kind of key or clue or maybe some dynamite.
Behind him, June made a soft noise, then asked, "Why do you think Zero chose you and I?"
That was a really good question. Snake and Clover were siblings so that's their excuse. They lived in the same place and everything. Junpei and June hadn't seen each other in years. Nearly a decade, even. What were the odds? Slim to none.
"No clue." He stood back from the display cabinet and closed it, looking for anything else that looked suspicious. "How about you?"
"Do you think Lotus was right? That maybe someone we went to class with is Zero?"
"Uh," it was a good question. When Lotus brought it up the first time, Junpei had dismissed it purely on the basis of them not knowing anyone quite as rich as to buy a whole goddamn boat. If Ace's theory was correct and Zero was just the face of an organization running the Nonary Game, then all bets were off.
As much as Junpei would have liked to say something reassuring, he couldn't. All he could think about was how, if it was someone they both knew, someone from school, Junpei wouldn't know. He barely remembered elementary school, his school memories full of college woes and high school embarrassment.
"I dunno."
June seemed to pick up on his concern because she walked alongside him as he went down the foyer towards the bathroom. "As awful as this is, I'm glad you're here Jumpy. It's nice to see a friendly face."
"You too." Junpei finally noticed the weird abstract painting by the bathroom door. It gave him pause as he stared at it, trying to make sense of the monochromatic blobs. "Hey, June? What do you think this is supposed to be?"
She squinted at it as well, leaning forward so she could get close. Then she backed up and tilted her head. "It looks like some kind of elephant demon sucking a person's brain out."
That was not what he was expecting but it seemed very much like something she would say. She always had a strange sense of humor and a wild imagination. He tilted his head and squinted, trying to see what she was talking about. He couldn't.
"Your mind is a truly fascinating thing." That got a laugh out of her. Something in his chest loosened.
There wasn't anything in the bathroom of any worth. The shower was normal, the shower curtain was normal, the water didn't work, the toilet bowl and tank were completely normal. A boring, normal bathroom.
Junpei wheeled out of the bathroom and back to the sitting room of the quarters. The sitting room didn't have anything else for him but maybe the bedroom? He opened the door and, like before, June followed behind him. The bedroom was a small thing, L-shaped with a made bed, wooden vanity, and nightstand in it. There was nothing in the nightstand, unfortunately, and when he had finished rummaging around by it, he turned around to see June staring at whatever was in the picture frame above the bed.
"What's up?" He walked behind her and peered at the picture frame. Instead of a picture or painting or something, there was a map of a large ship. The same ship they were likely on, though it looked like it specifically was a map of B-deck. "Oh."
"It's the ship's interior!" She pulled it from the frame and passed it to Junpei, who gave it a quick look.
"Nice find. That will come in handy. Especially because look!" He pointed at where they were behind door 4 and traced where the double doors at the end of the hallway led into a hallway near a stairwell. Then he backtraced towards the area that door 5 dumps out. "Both doors lead to the same place."
"Oh! You're right!" June pointed as well. "They all end up in this one hallway by the stairs." Then a strange look crossed her face. She leaned back and hummed softly.
Junpei folded the map up and slipped it into the file folder he had been carrying the whole time. "Hm?"
"It's a big ship."
That seemed like an obvious statement. "Well, yeah. Has to be to be full of puzzles. Can't do that on a sloop." That earned him a quick snort and a wry glare that didn't carry any bite to it.
"Looks like a cruise ship to me." June waved a hand at the furnishings of the bedroom. "Look at how nice these quarters are."
"If it is a cruise ship, it's purposefully retro. All these things look like they belong in a museum."
June seemed to lose herself in thought for a second before she reminded Junpei, "Didn't Zero say something about the Titanic?"
Junpei did but...no, wait. "They wouldn't have said that without having a reason to." Zero was too purposeful, too measured to just...say something for no good reason.
"I think this ship and the Titanic might be related, or at least similar." That made sense.
"You think it's a replica? The Titanic also had sister ships. It could be one of those."
"That's true. Still...why else would the furniture be like this?" She patted a hand on the bed, the firm mattress bouncing under the pressure. "One thing about that first theory is bugging me."
"What?"
"Well, with how terrible the Titanic was as a maritime incident and with the curse and all, why would anyone want to replicate it?" Wait, back up.
"Curse?" He hadn't meant to sound incredulous but...that was a step too far for him.
"Didn't you know? There was a mummy onboard the Titanic when it went down." June looked deathly serious as she said this. "The Priestess Amon-Ra was aboard. Stolen from a pyramid in Egypt, her mummy was supposedly responsible for the misfortune and death of any who handled her. Did you not know about this?"
Against all odds, he actually did. "Yeah?" The word was barely audible, almost a deflating exhale. He did actually know what she was talking about. "She was frozen solid, right?"
"Yeah!" June seemed almost as surprised as he was, though hers was less pained and confused and more genuinely delighted. "She hadn't saponified. She was still as lively as if she had laid down in the coffin moments before. And her body didn't thaw at the proper temperature either. Even at room temperature, she was frozen. A woman who wouldn't melt."
Wait. "Wasn't she from Egypt? That place is hot as hell. How didn't she melt?"
"Who knows? Maybe it's just a property of ice in the desert." That seemed more like a crackpot theory than the whole priestess mummy situation. "Who can say?"
"You're an interesting one, June." He meant it fondly and it seemed like she took it that way. She was beaming, almost seconds away from laughter. "C'mon now, let's get back to searching. If I can't find anything, I'll go see if Lotus has killed Santa across the hall."
"I hope she hasn't. Santa isn't that bad." Junpei raised a single eyebrow. She amended, "I think Santa isn't all that bad. Just...rough around the edges."
Junpei rolled his eyes at her but decided to not say another thing. Instead, he poked around in the dresser beside the bed. Empty. He moved on to the vanity. "Bingo." A key. There was probably nothing left in this room for him to find. Junpei looked at June. "I'm gonna...go across the hall, okay?"
"Be safe!"
What was Zero going to do? Kill him on his way through the hallway? But Junpei kept that thought to himself and just waved back. "I'll do my best."
Across the hall was a nearly identical room that Santa and Lotus were searching through. Or, rather, Santa was searching through. Lotus was leaning against the foyer wall by the bathroom, staring at the picture on the wall. It was missing several parts of it like it was some kind of slide puzzle.
"Any luck?" She asked Junpei as he came in.
"Found a couple things. Plus a map. Both numbered doors dump into the same hallway." When Junpei mentioned the map, Lotus perked up. He pulled it out of the file folder and handed it to her, tracing the path he showed June earlier.
"Zero." The way she said their name made it sound like some sort of oath. If there was any woman cursing anyone, it wouldn't be an eternally frozen mummy. It'd be Lotus. Junpei shivered.
Lotus handed back the map and Junpei tucked it back in the folder under his arm. He was actually really surprised that he hadn't dropped the damn thing yet with all the running he'd done. "Anyway, what's going on here?"
"Jack and shit!" Santa said as he rounded the corner. "Everything is either locked or missing pieces."
"Well it is a puzzle room. We just have to find the keys and pieces." Santa glared at Junpei when he pointed that out.
"Well then what's the lovebird suite look like?"
Junpei tried to not blush. "Looks like it's identical to this one save a few details." He waved a hand at the picture.
"I hope it's not some kind of 'spot the difference' nonsense." Santa shook his head. "I don't have the patience."
"Lucky for you, I'm your gofer. You can stay here and sit on the couch while I do all the heavy lifting." Junpei was joking, mostly.
"Ok." Santa didn't seem to realize that. Junpei didn't have the energy to correct him.
The bathroom was identical except that the shower curtain was missing. Toilet—bowl and tank—were empty, no soap, no water. In the sitting room of B93, Santa was reclining on the sofa. Lotus was still leaned against the wall by the bathroom, seemingly unwilling to sit in the same room as him. Did something happen?
Junpei wondered, for just a moment, if his comment about Lotus killing Santa hadn't been just speculative exaggeration.
This display case wasn't empty. Inside were a few nice looking pieces of pottery and glasswork and a single tile with a blobby looking black and white pattern on it. That was probably part of the picture in the hallway. Junpei moved to open it but Santa called out, "It's locked."
"I've got a key," Junpei tried the key from the vanity. It didn't fit. Behind him, Santa laughed mockingly. "Ha ha. At least I'm doing something."
"Well, between the empty bathroom, locked display case, and dark-ass bedroom, what else could I do?" Junpei looked at the bedroom when Santa said that. Like he said, it was dark enough that looking for something inside of it would be a hassle.
"Did you try the light switch?"
"'Did you try the—' do I look like an idiot?" Junpei held his tongue. "They don't work, genius. There's this candle here but without matches it's pretty useless."
Lucky then that Junpei had a box with one match in it. He struck the match and lit the candle, coughing as the sulfurous smell of an igniting match wafted into his face. Then he turned and gave Santa a smug smirk.
"Puzzle solving must be so easy when the solution is light candle with match."
"The matches were in the other room. There was also a key. The rooms are paired for a reason, they're halves of a whole." Junpei picked up the candle by the stick and entered the bedroom. It didn't give off much light, but it was better than nothing. He set the candlestick down on the vanity and then, to spite Santa, tried the switch.
No dice.
Well he had gotten the map and a key from the bedroom in B92, so the bed and the picture frame would be good places to check in B93. The candle didn't help much with determining details so whatever was in the picture frame above the bed was swathed in shadows. It didn't look useful or like some kind of puzzle. On the bed, however, was a folded cloth. Junpei picked it up and it rapidly unfolded to reveal it was a shower curtain with a hole in it. He struggled to fold it back up so he could carry it to the bathroom but as he was doing so, the candle burned out. The room got darker.
"That lasted." Lotus was standing in the doorframe. She seemed thoughtful. "Did you find anything?"
"Shower curtain with a hole."
She grimaced. "Pervert."
He hadn't been the one to cut the hole in it! She was just being rude. Junpei bit back on his reply and just headed back to where the light from the sitting room poured in. The candle hadn't lasted terribly long despite how large it had been. Junpei looked at it and realized that, not only had the wax melted very quickly, but the candlestick's spike was shaped weird. It had teeth and was a little too long to be just to hold a candle.
Oh, duh. It was a key.
Speaking of—Junpei pulled the vanity key from his pocket and put it in the lock for the vanity in this room. It turned and inside the vanity drawer was a tile like the one in the display case. Jackpot.
The vanity key had served its purpose, as had the match and box, so Junpei left them in this room and grabbed the candlestick key and tile. The tile was just small enough to fit in his pocket so, between the file folder under his arm, the shower curtain gripped tight in one hand, and the candlestick key in the other, he still had enough hands to continue solving puzzles.
"You look like a little kid bringing in groceries." Junpei shot Lotus a dry look. "Don't give me that look. You're carrying too much. I'll take the shower curtain to the bathroom and hang it up. That way you don't drop anything important."
He handed her the shower curtain and watched as she turned round the corner and into the bathroom. Then he walked over to the display case and inserted the candlestick key and turned. There was a click and Junpei could pull the sliding door back to get at the tile.
Man, this puzzle shit was easy.
Sliding the second tile into his pocket with the first, very careful that they didn't hit together too hard, Junpei closed the display case and set the candlestick key on the coffee table, where it had stood when it was just an unlit candle. As he stood up, he saw Santa glaring at something small in his hand. It looked like a bookmark. Then Santa shoved it at Junpei.
"Here." It wasn't an unkind gesture, just an abrupt one. Gift giving didn't seem to be Santa's forte, in spite of his code name. Still, the suddenness of the action and how genuinely sullen he looked threw Junpei off-kilter for a moment. He gaped at the bookmark in his face.
It had an accurate watercolor drawing of a four-leaf clover on it and a red ribbon tied in a loop through a hole in the top of it. Overall it was a nice bookmark.
"Huh?"
"I want you to have this," Santa reiterated.
"No, I get that. It's more...where did you get this and why?"
Santa rolled his eyes. "It was in the couch cushions, against all odds. Won't be much use but, hey, any ship in a port." A poor choice of metaphors.
"Why don't you hold onto it then? My pockets are full of puzzle solutions and keys and shit." Junpei pulled the corner of a tile out of his pocket to show Santa, who just rolled his eyes.
"You know what I hate the most?" Oh boy, another out-of-nowhere conversation about something weird. After June's tangent about the Titanic and the Priestess Amon-Ra, he was pretty worn out from conspiracy theories about curses and so on. He didn't interrupt Santa though. Some small, headache-induced part of him wanted to hear him out. "Four things: hope, faith, love, and luck."
For a second, Junpei didn't understand what the hell Santa was on about. Then he realized it probably had to do with the clover. He tilted his chin at the bookmark and raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? What's the bookmark got to do with it?"
Santa seemed to reconsider how he was phrasing what he was about to say for a moment. Then he sighed. "It's what the leaves stand for on a four-leaf clover. Hope, faith, love, and luck."
"Pretty pessimistic of you."
"Take the damn thing. I don't wanna be anywhere near it." Santa shoved it at Junpei again.
Junpei refrained from mentioning how, if he had it, it was still going to be near Santa. Instead, he took the bookmark and put it in the file folder so it wouldn't get crumpled. "Thank you."
His thanks seemed to throw Santa off-guard a little. "Uh, yeah. Yeah." There was a long, awkward pause. In the background, they could hear Lotus struggling with the shower curtain. She was swearing softly. Maybe he should help her...
"Hey, Santa?"
"Huh?"
"Is that the only reason you hate the clover?"
Something flashed across his eyes, something dark and heavy. "Nah. I mean, it's not the only reason I hate it. There's also the number four."
"What, like the Four Horsemen?" Junpei snorted.
That seemed to lighten the mood a little. "C'mon, that's some Dark Ages shit. I'm a modern man with modern values!"
"And modern superstitions too, it sounds like."
"You're putting words in my mouth, Jumpy." Hearing Santa say that nickname, even in jest, set Junpei's skin crawling. He did his best to not let his discomfort show on his face. "I don't like four coz it's half-assed. Middle of the road number. Nine is way better anyway."
Well that wasn't suspicious at all. "Yeah?"
"You know anything about gambling?" Change of subject it was then.
"Like in casinos?" Junpei was willing to play along.
"Yeah. In baccarat, nine is the king. Top hand. It's called Le Grande. Four's a piss poor number, only coming out above three, two, one, and zero. But a nine is a guaranteed win, more or less." Santa rubbed the back of his head as if he was ashamed of knowing shit like that. Junpei, on the other hand, found the fact that he could pull card game rules out of thin air fascinating. All he had rattling around in his head were test questions and trivia that only got used as a party trick while drinking with classmates. And math, which was helpful at the moment, but when would he need to know digital roots outside the Nonary Game?
"Actually, the Nonary Game is a lot like baccarat." Lotus, apparently having finished fighting the shower curtain, was standing between Junpei and the door to the hallway, looking contemplative.
"Huh?"
"Of course, baccarat doesn't use any of the stupid digital root junk, but the importance of nine is shared. In the end, a hand is only as powerful as the one's digit."
Santa seemed surprised about the conclusion she was drawing. "Huh...you're right."
"Having nine in the Nonary Game is a winning hand. The door we need to leave though is a nine isn't it?" Oh, she was right.
"Oh." Santa got it too. "Oh it is!"
"That's probably why it's called the Nonary Game too. Nine and all." When both Santa and Junpei only gave her a blank stare, she sighed. "Nona. It means 'derived from nine'. Like Nonary. In the same way, every other number has words like that as well. Una, as in unicorn, is one. Bi, like bicycle, is two. Tri, like triangle, is three. Quad, as in quadruped, is four. Quinti, sext, septim, octo, and nona."
"Neat linguistics lesson, but what does that have to do with this?" Santa gestured at the room, probably the whole ship.
Lotus just sighed and shook her head. "How many people were originally captured?"
"Nine?" Santa still looked confused.
"How many hours do we have to escape?"
"Nine." In spite of Santa's continued confusion, Junpei understood it. He gaped at Lotus.
"And what's the door that will give us our freedom?"
"The ninth!" Santa finally understood.
"The Nonary Game is a game of nines, hence nona." Lotus folded her arms.
While Junpei and Santa digested this information, the boat settled. The sound was almost alive, like some kind of gigantic organism filled with smaller, less-important organisms bustling around, trying to save themselves. It made Junpei think about bowerbirds and remoras. It made him think about anteaters and ants. Zero was laughing at them. He could hear it in the sound of creaking metal. He swallowed heavily.
"I'm gonna go see what the shower curtain was for." Junpei excused himself.
"Good luck," Lotus waved at him, a lazy flap of her hand. "It's just a random hole."
Nothing was ever truly random in the Nonary Game.
The hole in the shower curtain aligned with a tile on the back of the shower. Third across, fifth down from the far right. That didn't seem like nothing.
Junpei left the bathroom and opened the door to the hallway outside. "I'm gonna go see something in the other room."
"Don't die!" Santa said. He was being cheeky but, really, it was the same kind of response June had given when he came over to B93.
"No promises." Junpei figured that was, as before, the best answer he could give in response to something like that. If Zero wanted to whack him in the hallway, there was nothing anyone could do about it.
In B92, June was sitting on the couch. When Junpei came in, she leapt to her feet and ran to see him. "Did you find anything?"
"The rooms are nearly identical save this," Junpei pointed to the picture. "I'm looking for one more tile to finish the picture on that side and I think it's in the bathroom."
"Do you need any help?" She bounced in place on the balls of her feet.
"I don't think so?" That seemed to disappoint her. "But I'd welcome the company!" She brightened up again.
In the bathroom, Junpei counted the tiles. "One, two, three. One, two, three, four, five." The green one with the stripes. Junpei worked his nails under the edges of the tile and wiggled it free. On the back of it was the final piece of the abstract painting.
June looked as excited as Junpei felt. "Is that the last one?"
"I think so. You want to come over to B93?"
She shook her head. "Thanks, but no. I think four people in a room this size is a little cramped. Just call for me when you find the Mars key." When, not if. June had a lot of faith in Junpei. It made him feel...nervous and excited. He didn't want to disappoint her.
"Will do." He hurried across the hall and started placing the tiles in their proper place. As strange as it seemed, June's weird comment about it being an elephant demon sucking someone's brain out helped Junpei figure where they should go and how they were oriented. When he finally finished the painting, he stood back and admired his hard work. The painting, frame and all, slid down to reveal a small niche and...
"The Mars key!" Junpei snagged it from where it was sitting on the hidden alcove and turned to show Lotus and Santa. Both of them looked relieved, though Santa's gaze kept flicking down to the painting, his face crumpled in thought.
"What is this supposed to be?" He was speaking to himself but Lotus and Junpei both heard him.
Lotus stared at the picture for a moment, her expression a mirror of Santa's. Then her eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Oh. I think I've seen this before."
"You have?"
"In a book." Huh... "There's a British biochemist named Sheldrake. This picture was in a book talking about a theory he had."
"A theory?" Junpei asked. Something about this conversation, about the name Sheldrake, was familiar. It was familiar in the same way that the puzzles in this room had been easy to solve, almost as if he had done them before. His headache, ever-present and painful, flared up again but he fought back a wince. They didn't need to worry about him.
"Yes. Morphogenetic field, which relies on the theory of morphic resonance." Lotus waited for him to ask her more questions.
Junpei was suffering from a case of deja-vu. And an excruciating headache.
"Haven't...haven't you already said that?"
That surprised her. "What are you talking about?"
"Morphogenetic fields. Morphic resonance theory. Haven't you already explained that?" His head hurt so badly. He wanted to cry.
"No?"
"What are you on about, Junpei?" This time, Santa was the one pressing him.
"The morphic resonance theory is about storing information in the morphic field." Junpei gestured at the picture. "There was an experiment about using the morphic field to transmit information across space and time. It had to do with how many people understood that this was a heavily filtered picture of a dog. Before the solution was aired on British television, the percentage of people who knew the solution was sub-ten percent. Afterwards, using a sample of people who wouldn't have access to British television programs, the percentage of correct guesses doubled."
Lotus stared at him like he had grown a second head. Junpei could barely see, his head hurt so badly.
"Junpei," Santa's voice was low, quiet, measured, "Lotus hasn't said any of that before. Are you sure you're okay?"
Junpei pushed past them, into the bathroom, and emptied his stomach in the toilet. The pain was almost blinding. He laid his head against the cold porcelain and thought, trying to make sense of what had just happened.
What did they mean, she hadn't said that before? He had heard her. She had talked about Sheldrake, about information stored somewhere in the aether, about the experiment. She had mentioned how, supposedly, the morphic field was like a database of behavioral patterns and unspoken information that people could subconsciously access. She also said it was likely the TV experiment had falsified data for more impressive results or that their control group wasn't really all that controlled.
But both of them seemed like this was the first time they had had that conversation. Both of them looked like he was saying something insane.
What was going on?
The more he thought about it, the more parts of this day weren't making sense. The ever-present sense of deja-vu during every puzzle and conversation. The dread and relief he felt when he saw June for the first time and how he had cried. How he had known the doors in the hallway weren't anything. Why he was so sure Zero wasn't fucking with them regarding rules and the fairness of the Nonary Game.
Why did he know all this? Why did it feel like he'd done this once before?
Eventually, panic slowly leaving his body, mouth sticky, nausea passing, he tried to flush the toilet. Nothing happened. "Right. The tank is empty." He just lowered the lid and left the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Turning to Lotus and Santa—who had stopped talking as he exited the bathroom, exchanging worried glances—he gave them a weak, ill smile. "Sorry about that."
"Are you okay?" Lotus didn't move to check up on him, but her shoulders tensed up as if she might have wanted to.
"Yeah, uh, I think so." Junpei tried to sound casual. He failed, his voice scratchy from hurling. "I've had a headache for the last hour or so and it finally caught up to me."
"What about what you said? About the whole morphogenetic field, or whatever?" Santa pushed.
"Deja-vu?" Junpei shrugged. "I thought we'd talked about this but I guess it was something June had said earlier about the picture that made me think that." They exchanged a look but didn't press him. "We've got the Mars key now. We should grab June and go through the door. I wanna get out of here."
Without another word, the two of them followed Junpei into the hallway. Junpei stepped into B92 and gestured for June to follow him. "We got the key."
"Are you okay? You look sick." June laid the back of her hand across Junpei's forehead. It felt good. "You're a little warm."
"I threw up a bit," Junpei admitted. "It's fine. I just have a bad headache."
"Do we need to rest?"
"No." He didn't mean to be so harsh but... "We have the key, we should move on."
June nodded and followed him into the hallway. With everyone there—probably exchanging glances and unspoken questions about his health—Junpei opened the Mars door and walked through.
There was a large hallway, like the map said. What the map didn't show was the large metal grate that barred them from crossing to the other side, by where door 5 let out. Junpei let Santa struggle with the grate for a bit while he looked at the elevators to the right of the doors they just went through. There wasn't any kind of keycard reader, like there had been out on B-deck by the grand staircase, but also the buttons weren't lit. They wouldn't be able to use them. That just left the door across the hall.
The...kitchen, right? That's the kitchen. He knows that's the kitchen.
Why does he know that's the kitchen?
"Dammit!" Junpei heard Santa kick the grate and hiss in pain.
"Did you try asking nicely?" Lotus asked him.
"Shut up." They were getting along well, just like before.
"The elevators aren't powered." June had pressed one of the buttons. "Do you think there's a keycard reader for these on some other floor?"
"The only other floor they'd go to is C-deck and I don't know where these would even let out." Junpei mused. He hadn't moved from the door he was standing in front of.
"Well if the elevators don't work, we came from back there, and the hallway is closed off, this door is our only choice." June walked over to Junpei and the kitchen door. Lotus and Santa followed suit.
"Not much of a choice, is it?" Santa griped.
Junpei didn't even bother waiting. He just threw the door open and entered the room beyond.
It was a kitchen. Galley, really, because that's the ship word for it and all, but it was what he assumed it would be. What he remembered it was.
There were counters covered in things, stacks of various plates on a service counter across from an empty sink, a grill that still had a coal fire going in it, an abandoned stove with pots on it. Set into the counter, by an area that had cutting boards and rolling pins on it, was a keypad on what might have been an oven. There were two doors that looked like extensions of the kitchen and one door with a keycard reader next to it on the other side of the partition that divided the service side of the galley from the cooking side. That was probably the way out.
Junpei's head hurt but he kept himself together. He couldn't fall apart just yet. He was only experiencing severe deja-vu. It didn't mean anything. He took a deep breath and exhaled through his nose.
"Damn. I was hoping this would be easy." Santa looked at the clutter. "It's another puzzle room." His gaze wandered back to Junpei, as if he was indicating that he should get to solving. It was...relieving to be treated like that, as strange as it might sound. Santa choosing to, once again, leave the heavy lifting to Junpei meant that he wasn't holding his strange outburst against him.
"Well the exit's over there," Lotus pointed at the door with the reader next to it.
"Where's the keycard?" June asked.
Junpei knelt down and pointed to the oven. "My money's on in here. We just need to find the combination."
Lotus sighed heavily. "All right, I guess we should split up. Just don't hurt yourself. I'm not bandaging you up if you cut yourself on a rusty knife or something."
"Thanks mom." Santa laughed as Lotus swatted him with the back of her hand. Junpei was too lost in thought to really make any sort of comment about it.
June gripped his arm and gave him a worried look.
"I'm fine. I'll...be fine. Thanks." Junpei patted her on the hand and smiled, hoping she bought it. She didn't seem convinced but let go and nodded. "Let's get to looking."
Santa was looking at half of the galley, peering at one of the two doors like it personally offended him. Lotus was on the same side as the entrance door with Junpei, looking at a paper on the service counter. June tried the door nearest Lotus and Junpei and seemed surprised when it opened, so she went in.
Junpei tried to collect himself as he walked over to Lotus. "What're you looking at?"
"This," she pointed at a voucher on the service counter and read it aloud. "Appetizer nine, meat dish ten, soup A, seafood dish F."
"That's..." Junpei didn't know what he wanted to say, but looked at the plates stacked on the service counter and tallied them up in his head. "Is that supposed to be this?" He gestured at the plates.
"Well these here," Lotus pointed to the square plates, "are the appetizer plates. That's nine. These," she pointed to the deep plates next to the appetizer plates, "are soup plates. That's ten. These," she pointed to the shallower, bigger plates next to the soup plates, "are seafood plates. There's fifteen of them. And these," she pointed to the stack of plates that had a higher lip than the seafood plates, "are meat plates. There's sixteen of them."
"Wait, but..." Junpei looked at the note again. Appetizer plates made sense. Nine. But soup, seafood, and meat were using numbers, and wrong ones too. Unless... "Do you think these three are using hexadecimal?"
Lotus looked at the note, then the stacks of plates, and back again. "You're probably right. A in hexadecimal is ten in base-10. Base-10 is the numerical system we normally use." Junpei nodded at her, letting her know that, yes, he knew what base-10 was. "Hexadecimal is base-16, so it goes one through nine, then A, B, all the way through F, then ten is sixteen in base-10, and so on and so forth. So if you compare this voucher to base-16, it's correct."
"Huh." Junpei looked at the lock on the oven, then back at the plates. "Zero really likes math."
"Who wouldn't? Numbers, even if they're in good old base-2, are reliable and simple. One plus one always equals the same thing every time." Lotus smiled fondly. "They're consistent and I, for one, like consistency, don't you?"
Base-2...isn't that binary? That's what's used for programming. No wonder Lotus liked math.
"I'm more of a fun facts guy than a numbers guy, but yeah, I can understand it."
Lotus rolled her eyes at him and waved him off. "Go figure something useful out."
"Yes ma'am." Junpei gave her a sarcastic salute and walked from the service counter to the door June had gone in. Inside the room was a pantry filled with very large cheese wheels and other metal shelving units covered in cloth. June was looking at the cheese like she was debating cracking a wheel open and eating it. "I don't think any of this is any good."
June jumped and let out a started squeak. "Oh! Don't do that!"
"Who's the jumpy one now?" Junpei teased.
June pouted at him. "Not funny."
"It was, a little bit." Junpei turned his attention back to the cheese wheels. "But you have to admit that I'm right. About the cheese, I mean."
"Well, not really."
Junpei shot her an exaggerated scandalous look. "Oh?"
"There are some cheeses that, until the rind is broken, can actually keep for decades." June smirked at him.
Junpei just chuckled. "Yeah, but not centuries. If this is actually the Titanic or whatever, this cheese is from, what, nineteen twelve? Later than that, even, because cheese is made through like...fermentation or whatever. This is ancient cheese. I don't think it could survive the ravages of time."
June leveled her gaze at him, mock sternness broken quickly by her laughing. "Fair. Still, I wonder what the insides of these wheels look like?"
"Dust, probably. Mold. The faintest hint of powdered milk."
June laughed again. "Maybe. Who knows? I certainly don't want to open them, even if I could."
"I guess that makes them Schrödinger's Cheese then. They're both cheese and dust until observed by someone." Now he was just showing off.
Something strange—not quite sad but not quite angry—flashed across June's face. As quick as it appeared, it was gone, and she pointed to a wheel on the second-highest shelf. "Oh, look. There's something back there."
Junpei craned his neck to look and, yes, there was. The two of them moved the wheel and found that it was a bottle of oil. "Well this will come in handy." Especially if any hinges needed lubrication.
"It can't hurt." June held her hands out. "You want me to carry it? You did so much in the cabins that I'd like to help." He handed it to her and she held it in both hands. "Thanks."
"No problem. I've only got so many pockets and if that leaks, I'll never get it out of my jacket. Or my pants." He tried to make light of it but he genuinely did appreciate her offering. He'd been feeling like he'd been carrying the weight of the ship on his shoulders this whole time. Knowing that someone else was willing to bear some of the burden meant a lot.
Junpei looked at the other shelves. Most of them were filled with canned goods and other preserved items. Pasta, powdered milk, spices. All in bulk. He flipped up a sheet and found one of the shelves had a small, wooden box on it next to several unlabeled, rusty cans of something.
Oh.
Junpei opened the box and revealed a rusty knife. Didn't he see a whetstone by the sink? He grabbed the box and put it in his jacket pocket, aware of how bulky and awkward it looked. As he turned back to June, ready to leave the pantry, he noticed she seemed lost in thought.
"What's up?"
"Oh, nothing," she said. It was very obviously something. "Just thinking about Futility."
Junpei had an inkling of what she was talking about. Same as he knew what Lotus was going to say about the morphogenetic field test. She wasn't talking about rusty knives or cheese that wasn't cheese or puzzles that lead to puzzles. "The book?"
June looked confused but delighted. "You know about it?"
"A little bit, yeah." That was an understatement. He remembered her talking about Futility. He just..didn't want to upset her like he had Santa and Lotus. Keeping his headache and precognition to himself seemed the best way to do just that. "I know that it's very similar to the way the Titanic sank, fourteen years before it happened. People think that Morgan Robertson predicted the whole deal."
"That's a lotta bit!" She didn't seem too offended that he knew things. That was good. "While the similarities between the events in Futility and the sinking of the Titanic were eerily similar, there are two other novels that bear striking resemblance to various events. Both of these, however, were written by Wlliam Thomas Stead."
"Oh yeah." Junpei remembered Stead. "But weren't his stories only superficially similar? Robertson's Futility, while probably coincidental, was closer to the actual sinking of the Titanic in terms of overall details, although he could have changed the details to up sales."
June frowned at him. "Sure, he could have changed details, but Stead's works were more interesting. You see: Stead was a passenger on the Titanic. It's said that he was possessing his past self to write down what happened as best he could, and that's why his works bear resemblance to the Titanic."
"Automatic writing, right?"
"Yeah! Of course, there's no proof, but isn't that interesting as a thought? That the future could be so traumatic that you send an aspect of yourself to the past, if only to warn you."
"He still got on the ship," Junpei pointed out.
"Yeah." June deflated a little. "Some things just can't be changed. They're fixed events."
Unsure of what to do after that, Junpei nervously looked at the door, then back at June. "I'm gonna go sharpen this knife. Are you good in here? I don't think there's anything else to find."
"Oh, I'll be out in a moment." June smiled, less sincerely than before. That strange look, the one that reminded Junpei of how he felt when he woke up on the D-deck, crossed her face again. "Just remember what Lotus said. Don't cut yourself."
"I won't." Junpei smiled, mostly for her benefit, and left the pantry.
Sharpening the knife took more time and effort than Junpei would have assumed. To be fair, he wasn't sure exactly how to perform upkeep on cooking utensils and the knife was very rusty. Still, the fact that he had managed to get an edge on it anyway, in spite of how genuinely ruined the blade was, was a feat in and of itself.
As he was sharpening the knife, Santa came up alongside him and watched him for a moment. Then he asked him, "You feeling better?"
"Hm?" Junpei stopped for a second so he didn't hurt himself—and to rest his poor arms—and looked at Santa. "Oh, yeah. I think puking helped."
There was a period of silence, then Santa said, "The door over there, the freezer I think? The bolt is jammed. It's rusted shut."
"Well lucky for you, June and I found some oil." Junpei wiped the blade of the knife off and checked the edge. It wasn't going to gut anyone, but it probably could cut through cooked meat with some effort. Good enough. He didn't want a dangerous knife out and about. Not with Zero around. "June has it."
"June has what?" June came up behind him as well. Junpei put the knife back in the box and latched it, shoving it back in his pocket.
"The oil. Santa says the bolt on the other door is jammed. You wanna check it out?" June nodded and the three of them walked over to the other door. Lotus followed behind, even though she wasn't doing anything.
Like sharpening the knife, oiling the bolt took effort. Cooking oil was not industrial oil, nor was it any kind of mechanical lubricant. It was just slimy and slick and, when Junpei was done wiggling the bolt free of the plate, he wiped his hands on his pants, leaving dark streaks.
So much for keeping them clean.
Grabbing the door handle, Junpei pushed it open. Past the door was a freezer filled with shelves of meat and other frozen goods. None of them were edible, probably, and the whole place was bitingly cold. On the wall opposite the door was a cabinet and there was some kind of hatch on the floor. Junpei shivered, his breath coming out in puffs of white.
"F-fuck it's cold." Santa looked around, bare arms wrapped around himself. Goosebumps raised on his skin and he was hunching over to try and keep from shaking too much. Why he had decided to come into the freezer was beyond Junpei, especially since he and June were better dressed for not freezing to death. That's why Lotus had stayed outside when...
Wait.
Just as Junpei remembered why all them being in the freezer was a bad idea, the door swung shut behind them and there was a snapping sound. The pipe by the door had burst and the water—warm in the pipe—had frozen over the knob, making it impossible to open from either side.
Santa lunged for the knob and drew back, hissing in pain. The palm of his hand was a bright pink, the freezing cold metal having burned him on contact. "Lotus?!"
On the other side of the door, Lotus tried to push it open. Then she slammed into it with her full weight. Junpei heard her suck in air. She probably hurt herself too. "It's not opening from this side!"
The door swings open, Junpei remembered. If the ice freezing it in place is keeping it from moving, then even Lotus tackling the damn thing wouldn't make it budge. Hell, even if Seven tried it wouldn't go anywhere. They had to make their own way out.
How though...
While Santa yelled at Lotus through the door—her saying something about how she genuinely couldn't help them and him shouting about how they were gonna freeze to death—Junpei opened the cabinet and started searching for something, anything to help.
Slabs of meat weren't useful, save the extremely hard chunk of frozen chicken, which could be used as a bludgeoning weapon, but something else in the cabinet caught his eye. A large bag of something extremely square shaped that radiated cold.
"Dry ice." Junpei pulled the bag's knotted handle and carefully dropped it to the floor. The freezer was already cold as shit. He didn't need to suffer dry ice burns on top of that.
"H-hey," Santa startled Junpei. "Isn't dry ice just frozen carbon dioxide?"
"Yeah?" Junpei tried to wrack his brain for any information he had about dry ice. All he was getting were a recipe for a dry ice bomb and the fact that dry ice is a sublimate. The former was useful, if he could find the things he needed. "It's got specific needs to become a l-liquid." Even with his vest and long sleeves, the cold was starting to take its toll on Junpei. He knelt down and used the frozen chicken to start smashing the dry ice block into smaller, more manageable chunks.
"The sublimation point of carbon di-dioxide is negative one hundred and n-nine degrees fahrenheit. In order to m-make it a liquid, it needs to be under pressure, like diamonds a-and graphite." June, in spite of the cold, seemed proud of herself.
It would've been a more impressive fact if they weren't freezing to death, trapped in a freezer. "Queen of Knowledge st-strikes again, huh?"
June's amused smile turned into another thoughtful frown. "Oh, h-hey Junpei?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you remember w-what I said ab-about the mummy?"
Santa looked as confused as Junpei felt. Junpei, however, was connecting dots. "About how sh-she wouldn't melt?"
"Mmhmm." June wrapped her arms tighter around herself and jammed her hands in her armpits. "I just remembered s-something interesting about that." When nobody—not even Santa—stopped her, she began to explain. "So there's this type of i-ice. It was sup-supposed to be something in a science-fiction book, but it was ice that had a melting point of ninety-six degrees fahrenheit. It's a p-polymorph of standard ice. They called it ice-9."
While the conversation was familiar, it was the repetition of nine that really caused Junpei's stomach to leap into his throat. There was just no escaping nine in the Nonary Game, was there?
"S-so what? Do they know wh-what caused it?" Santa asked through chattering teeth.
"No. It just h-happened. Something about the structure of the ice was different and that's wh-why its melting point is higher. Kinda like glycerine."
Junpei did remember this one better, even though ice-9 should have been the one to stick out to him more. "Nineteen twenty, right? Wh-when glycerine started crystalizing all over the world when c-cooled to sixty-four degrees fahrenheit or lower?"
"Y-yeah." June nodded at Junpei.
He stood up and looked around for anything else to help with his dry ice bomb. There was a piece of pork on the metal shelving that had what looked like a tag in it. That had to be something useful. "What's th-that got to do with ice-9 and th-the Priestess of Amon-Ra again?" Junpei shoved the pork in his pocket—he was giving up on keeping his clothes clean at this point—and continued searching the shelves.
"P-probably the same phenomena," Santa offered. "L-like ice-9 deciding to freeze with the structure that allows it to h-have a higher melting p-point, the glycerine crystallization happened the s-same way."
"Morphogenic fields." June made a noise of confusion so Junpei explained. "Lotus was...there was this b-biochemist. It's about in-invisible fields that carry information. If it ex-exists, then who's to say humans are th-the only ones who can store or r-retrieve information using it."
"B-but if ice-9 is the same, why haven't the oceans f-frozen over?" Santa asked.
"Salt." June's answer didn't seem satisfactory, but Santa didn't press her.
Instead, he chose to focus his confusion on Junpei. "Wh-what are you doing?"
"Dry ice bomb." Junpei lifted the hatch and let out a hissing, "Yes." There was an empty bottle and some rope—cold to the touch but not frozen stiff—in the hatch. He started shoving chunks of dry ice in the bottle using his shirt sleeve as a glove.
Santa looked at the dry ice, then the door. "Do you plan on b-blowing us up too?!"
Junpei wrapped the rope around the bottle so he could hook it on the door handle then removed the cap. "Hop in th-the hatch. We can use the d-door to shield us. It's big enough."
"You're f-fucking crazy." Santa still got in the hatch, helping June step down as well. Junpei added the warm water to the bottle and, as the ice began to turn to gas, capped it off and tied it to the doorknob.
It was a really good thing he had been so gentle. Just one tap and the bomb would have probably taken his hands off, at the very least. Junpei picked up a chunk of dry ice left over from making the bomb, hunkered down by the hatch, and threw it against the bottle. The second that the ice left his hand, he ducked into the cellar and pulled the door down. A deafening sound rocked through the freezer. Junpei threw the hatch up and rushed to the door, sliding a little on the ice-covered floor. The door handle—now free of ice—moved in his grip and he shoved the door open, ecstatic to be free of the freezer.
"Oh thank fuck!" Junpei leaned against the wall, shaking his hands to try and get feeling back in his fingers. Behind him, June and Santa rushed out as well, their faces bright pink.
Santa slammed his hand down on the grill and started screaming. It seemed like an extreme reaction to nearly freezing to death but also...Junpei couldn't blame anyone for acting odd. He was probably the worst offender today. Santa swore and kicked the grill, pulling his hand off. Now his skin was pink for a different reason.
Lotus, who had been leaning against the service counter, looked at them with surprise. "What the hell was that noise? Is Santa okay?"
"Bomb and probably?" Junpei's first instinct on escaping was to assume that Lotus had purposefully closed them in the freezer, but the smarter, louder part of him—the part that knew things that hadn't happened yet—knew that if she wanted them dead, she could have just bolted the latch shut. She didn't, she just also didn't do anything else to help.
"Fuck!" Santa swore one last time.
"Feel better?" Lotus asked. He shot her a scathing look and she just held her hands up defensively. "Just asking."
"Shut up. I'm gonna go stick my hands in the sink."
"Yuck." June grimaced.
"Well, better that than let my hands hurt forever." Santa walked off and June followed him, probably to try and warm her hands up too—or make sure he was okay.
Junpei turned to the grill and threw the pork on it. Lotus, confused by his actions, came over and looked at the slowly cooking meat. "Hungry?" Her tone was teasing and light.
"Not for this." Junpei poked it with a barbecue fork, testing to see how soft it was. "There's paper in this. I figure I can cut it out if it's not frozen. Plus, I don't know how old this meat is. I'm not taking chances." One side was pretty cooked so Junpei flipped it over. It did smell good, kinda. Junpei poked the meat again. Still a little cold in the center.
When he figured it was done enough he skewered the meat on the barbecue fork and walked it to the area with the cutting boards. Then he began to work on removing the piece of paper with the kitchen knife he sharpened.
He'd done an okay job getting the edge back on the knife but it cut like a pair of safety scissors through cardboard. It took Junpei several moments to finally work the paper free and by then his hands were covered in meat grease. Maybe he should also submerge his hands in the sink water. Yuck.
The paper read: C + 10 + F
Of course hexadecimal was going to be important. That's why the voucher with the plate numbers was there. C was twelve, ten was sixteen, and F was fifteen. Twelve plus sixteen plus fifteen was forty-three. Junpei punched it into the number pad lock on the oven and was rewarded for remembering something Lotus told him. The oven opened.
"Hell yeah." Junpei pulled a blue and black keycard out from in the oven. It had a familiar symbol on it. "Hey June? Isn't this the symbol for Saturn?" He stood up and handed it to her as she walked over.
June looked at the card with wonder in her eyes. "Yes! Do you think this is the keycard to leave?"
"I don't see anything else we could do, so probably." Junpei wiped his grease-covered hands on his pants again and grimaced. These jeans were never getting clean after this. Ever. "Why don't you give it a try?"
June and everyone else walked over to the reader near the door and she swiped it. The light flashed green, it beeped, and she grabbed the door and threw it open. Finally, they'd managed to escape the kitchen.
#the sheepy writes fic#Schrödinger's Cat Fic#999#zero escape#ze#999 spoilers#long post#every chapter will have links to the song for the chapter but also I'm not posting a chapter total until I'm fucking done#also im only using vocal synth songs for chapter titles because i wanna spread the love for them#dont say shit if you notice the small sample size in producers i couldnt find appropriate ones lmao#part one of chapter one#coz i hit the 15K line and went ''maybe i should split this up''#chapters after this one will be shorter...maybe#i cannot say coz i do not know lmao
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So. When he had sent the robot away and sat there with the intent of letting his lair come crashing down on himself, he wasn’t expecting some glowing llama to intercept with the query of hey bro are you busy and then not wait for an answer. In other news, this was not outside the Pearly Gates and that was not Saint Peter. Also was pretty sure you went either straight up or straight down when you died instead of sideways into a holding cell. Was this Purgatory? Wooden cell and dirt floor wasn’t what he was expecting, but what did he know, he was dead.
Also on the list of things he wasn’t expecting: company.
“So. What are you in for?”
“What?” he blurted, startled by the comment—even more when his eyes adjusted and he realized who his company was. “Wait—Tadashi?”
Yes, yes it was—the startled young man across from him was dirtier and scruffier than the holographic version he had used to trick the younger brother Hiro, definitely looked like he had a close brush with a fire, but not so close as to be in a grave, which was what everyone thought was the final fate of one Tadashi Hamada.
“Okay, first question is how do you know me…second question is what’s so funny,” Tadashi said, eyeing him warily as he started to keel over.
“Oh…oh now I know I’m dead,” Obake wheezed, rubbing at his face—winced at a bowl thrown at his head. “HEY!”
“Did that hurt?” Tadashi asked.
“Yes.”
“Then you’re not dead,” Tadashi reasoned. “Also, for personal reasons I have to ask you if a glowing llama showed up and said hey bro you busy?”
“I was hoping that was just some artefact from my brain shutting down.”
“Nah, reasonably sure we’re still alive—nothing matches up with the descriptions I got,” Tadashi said, looking around. “Hey you’re closer to the door—are those guys still out there?”
Arch an eyebrow, lean against the door and listen. “They seem to be talking.”
“Good, make sure they don’t move,” Tadashi said, moving and flicking his jacket away—blink when he realized it had been covering a hole in the ground.
“What are you doing?”
“What does it look like?” Tadashi asked, tossing a handful of dirt at the far corner. “It’d be easier if these guys gave us spoons, but maybe they were expecting that. Hey toss me that bowl back, will you?”
Obake did his best to aim it at Tadashi’s head, missed by a few feet. “Thanks,” Tadashi said, going back to digging. “Pretty sure I’m getting close.”
“I’m curious—what, precisely, is your plan once you’re out?”
“Uhhh run really fast, that seems like a plan.”
Oh good grief. “Do you even know where we are?”
“We’re both in some jail cell, that’s the extent of my knowledge.” Straighten up to squint at him. “By the way, you never answered my first question.”
“What was it?”
“How did you know my name?”
Oi, how to explain this. “I know your brother.”
Tadashi blinked. “Wait—Hiro? How is he? Is he okay?”
Hopefully—he had released the robot with the order to go rescue him in the hopes that something of this utter failure of a day was salvaged. Evaluate Tadashi, who was about his height and had at least ten pounds of muscle on him, decided it was probably a good idea not to go into all that. “It’s my understanding he is.”
“Okay next question how do you know Hiro? No offense, but you seem kind of sus.”
“We’re both in a jail cell, you realize.”
“Yeah, but you got shifty eyes and one of those villain accents.”
“I have what.”
“Villain accents—me and a friend of mine, Fred, we were talking about different shows one day and we agreed that villains tend to have certain accents.”
“You’re judging me based on some stupid show you watched.”
“I notice you didn’t deny the shifty eyes.”
“Says the man busy digging his way out of his jail cell.”
“Touche,” Tadashi said, going back to that job. “So how do you know Hiro?”
Oh, little things—tormenting the boy for constantly snafuing his plans, eventually swinging around to testing him to see if he was worth investing in, trying to turn him to Obake’s side, eventually losing to him when he undid all his best-laid plans…that sort of thing. Pictured the end result of telling Tadashi all this, decided to keep it to himself. “We crossed paths one day.” Which wasn’t a lie.
“Crossed paths right let me guess you two met bot-fighting.”
Obake shrugged, not deigning that one with an answer.
“Okay next question…wait why am I the one asking all the questions here?”
“You feel a need to fill the silence?” Obake guessed. “Here’s one for you: how long have you been here?” Since the fire at least and that was a good six months ago.
“I don’t know, I lost track,” Tadashi said, gesturing to a far wall. Obake looked, saw a lot of tally marks marring it. “Mostly the people here open this like, slot in the door and glare in—I’ve been having to save this for at night but hopefully with a second guy keeping an eye out.” Pointedly look at him…Obake sighed, glanced out a thin crack in the wood.
“I don’t see anything.”
“Might be lunchtime—they’ll be coming back soon to throw in some bread and stuff and that’s about it. Okay, next question: name.”
Oi. “Obake.”
“Seriously? Ghost? No last name? First name?”
Not since he had decided to abandon his old identity, no. “None that you’re getting.”
“Oh, oh you definitely met Hiro while bot-fighting,” Tadashi groused, digging with renewed fervor. “Let me guess, I get abducted by shiny Kuzco and he goes right back to misbehaving.”
“You’ll be happy to know he decided to take up your annoying good streak.”
“That is good news. So you know about me through him then?”
Close enough. “Yes.”
“Well—hey!” Tadashi gasped. “I’m through! I’m under!” Snatch up his jacket, shrug it on. “Come on.”
Blink. “And go where?”
“Who cares? Anywhere’s better than right here, right? Unless you got someplace else to be.”
Not particularly. And did he really want to go anywhere? Maybe this was his fate, his end reward. He had been perfectly willing to end it all….
But watching Tadashi squirm his way out to freedom, seeing the sun shining in…no. No whatever this was, he wasn’t staying here.
Tadashi was waiting on the other side, helped drag him out and upright. “Okay let’s go!”
Go was going to be a trick—Obake had never been a fan of the active lifestyle, had old injuries that made running difficult—had a massive stitch in his side by the time Tadashi had pulled twenty feet ahead, was wheezing in pain when Tadashi stopped at the end of a row of wood houses to peek around the corner…boy he hoped he was on the track team.
“Are you okay?” Tadashi asked when he finally reached him, collapsing heavily against the wall.
“Not good at running,” he managed to get out.
Tadashi made a noise somewhere in his throat, looked out. “There’s a gate there, but there’s guards.” Look around, duck down, pop back up with a rock. “Lemme see if I can’t distract them.”
Fine, do that—look around as Tadashi pitched it and ducked back—everything looked brand-new, like it had been just built…but it also looked better suited to some period way back in Japan’s history. “Tadashi….”
“Okay they’re gone let’s go.” Grabbed Obake and hauled him out, running for all he was worth. In other news, right now Obake felt like he was worth about two cents.
“YES we’re out keep going!” Tadashi cheered, rounding a bend down the dirt road—not liking this, not liking this, this could not possibly be anywhere near San Fransokyo….
The road dead-ended at a beach.
“Oh come on!” Tadashi gusted as Obake collapsed in the sand. “We must have missed a turn—hey are you okay?”
Obake flopped a hand weakly, intending to answer that question when he wasn’t in danger of seeing some internal organ.
“Okay…wait maybe there’s a boat somewhere lemme see if I can’t find one—hold on,” Tadashi barked. Yeah, you do that. Roll over a little to get off sore ribs, focus on breathing and hoping it got less painful soon….
“Cynda.”
“Nnh…I thought you were getting a boat,” Obake muttered, trying to bat away Tadashi poking him.
“Cynda cynda!” Okay the jumping on him was not appreciated—
Nor was opening his eyes and seeing some…shrew-badger thing hopping off him as he rolled over.
“Okay I found some oars so a boat has to be somewhere—is that a Cyndaquil?” Tadashi asked, stopping dead at the sight of the thing sitting next to Obake.
“Rowl,” something perched on the boathouse noised, flying down to land on Tadashi’s head and startling him into tripping and falling—something small and blue waddled over to poke at him.
“Please tell me you grabbed the oars,” Obake said, scuttling over to Tadashi popping up and away from the blue thing. The shrew-thing followed—wait Tadashi had called it a Cyndaquil that sounded familiar—
“Wait,” Tadashi said, pointing. “That’s an Oshawott and a Rowlet! These are Pokémon!”
“Come again?”
Tadashi snatched up the blue thing as the owl thing landed on his head, turning it over like he was expecting to see bolts somewhere. “These are Pokémon! You know, gotta catch ‘em all? You can’t live in this century if you haven’t heard of Pokémon, they don’t give you your social security card otherwise.”
“The little video game monsters?”
“Yeah those—okay sorry,” Tadashi said, letting go of the squirming blue thing. “That—these are real. These are real Pokémon are we dead?” Obake socked him in the arm in response. “Okay we’re not dead or dreaming yes—”
“There you are!” some older man with an unfortunate hat said, running over and doing just barely better at the exercise than Obake had. “You three…haaa…really need to stop taking off like that…thank you, by the way, for stopping them.”
"You can thank us by giving us a boat,” Obake said, pulling his leg up away from the Cyndaquil.
“These are Pokémon,” Tadashi said, taking the owl-thing off his head to hold up.
“They are indeed!” the man said, straightening up. “And I would if I could, but our last boat got smashed by a Gyarados a while back.”
Tadashi dropped the owl in his lap to grab Obake and start shaking. “There’s Gyarados—they have Gyarados.”
The man, meanwhile, was looking them over, unfortunately. “What are you two doing out here? Do you have any Pokémon for protection?”
“We get Pokémon?”
“Get off me,” Obake said, pushing Tadashi off. “We’re fleeing an untenable position.” Shoot a glance at the Cyndaquil. “And no, we don’t have any of those.”
“Well I can’t deny that that describes most people here,” the man said, crossing his arms. “But I’m forgetting my manners—I’m Professor Laventon. These are Rowlet, Oshawott, and Cyndaquil, who behave when they feel like it.”
Tadashi popped up with the owl tucked under an arm, dragged Obake up with him. “I’m Tadashi, this is Obake,” he said, eyeing this Laventon fellow like he had suddenly turned into Santa Claus. “They’re Grass, Water and Fire for types, right?”
“Oho, someone else who knows something about Pokémon!” Laventon said, beaming. “And those two—they’re never that well-behaved around strangers. Maybe they should go with you if you don’t have any Pokémon.”
“Really?”
“Certainly! Their balls are back at my lab, though.”
“Tadashi,” Obake said sternly. “We were leaving. The only place his lab would be is that village we just left.”
“Wait, you’re leaving Jubilife?” Laventon asked. “And going where?”
“San Fransokyo,” Tadashi said—blinked. “Wait did you say Jubilife?”
“I’ve never heard of such a place,” Laventon said, pondering this. “It must be very far away…and if you’re going off on your own you definitely need the protection a Pokémon partner can give you.”
Tadashi gave Obake a sort of desperate puppy-dog look. “Tadashi,” Obake said sternly. “Have you ever heard of the story of the monkeys that escaped the zoo and were lured back in through the promise of peanuts?”
“This is so much better than peanuts though,” Tadashi insisted, holding the owl up. “Look at this this is an actual. Rowlet. Like this isn’t a robot it’s a living breathing thing look it has feathers.”
“You must be from somewhere far away,” Laventon decided. “Come on, this won’t take long.”
“No, it won’t,” Obake sighed, allowing himself to be dragged back to town by Tadashi. Great.
...
As expected, there were issues.
“No, no, no,” a woman who vaguely reminded Obake of Granville said, raging at Laventon from behind her desk. “You are not giving two criminals Pokémon!”
“What’d we do?” Tadashi demanded.
“Existed,” Obake told him.
“This is a good question,” Laventon told the woman.
The woman squirmed a bit. “Well…look at them—do those outfits scream outstanding citizen to you?”
“They’ve already explained to me that they’re from a region known as San Fransokyo.”
“Actually San Fransokyo is a city,” Tadashi told him. “It’s in California.”
“Oh—they’re from the California Region. Have you ever heard of such a place, Cyllene?”
“Has it ever occurred to you that they could be lying?” the woman Cyllene demanded.
“Yes, but Pokémon are excellent judges of character,” Laventon said, pointing at the Rowlet sitting on Tadashi’s shoulder and the Cyndaquil that hadn’t left Obake’s side, much to his chagrin. “Jubilife is supposed to be a place of new chances, Cyllene, you know that.”
Cyllene grimaced. “So you’re going to let them take a couple of Pokémon and run off? Do you know how much work it took to get those two?”
“You could give us a Pokédex too and call it a day,” Tadashi suggested.
Laventon looked sharply at him. “What do you know of the Pokédex?”
“It’s like a Pokémon encyclopedia, right?” Tadashi asked, apparently oblivious to Cyllene frantically motioning no no no—
“It’s my life’s work! My goal in coming out here was to complete the world’s first Pokédex and bridge the gap between Pokémon and humans!”
“Well—first?”
“That’s how we’ll do it,” Laventon said brightly, rounding on Cyllene. “We give these boys the Pokémon, and in exchange they work for me for a while as field researchers. Does that sound like a plan?”
“That implies we’ll have to give them room and board, and is predicated on the assumption that they won’t run away the first chance they get,” Cyllene said, shooting them a suspicious glance. Which, fair.
Tadashi, meanwhile, was tapping Laventon on the shoulder. “What does this job entail?”
“Going out and taking notes on Pokémon,” Laventon said, ticking things off on his fingers. “Studying the moves they use and how they use them, catching Pokémon—”
“How many?”
“How many? Well as many as it takes, I suppose. Ideally at least one of each, it might take more for the longitudinal studies—”
Obake could tell he had lost Tadashi on the escape plan. “How does one leave this place?” he asked Cyllene.
“Death,” she said. “Alternatively there’s a supply boat, but it’s not due back for another year. Or you could take your chances in the wilderness,” she added, expression saying please do.
Obake sighed, looked at Tadashi giving him that desperate puppy-dog look again. “Fine,” he spat. “I don’t see as how we have much choice.” For now, he added quietly.
“We’ll do it,” Tadashi told Laventon, spinning around so fast he had to put a hand up to balance the Rowlet.
“Well, I can’t say I’d be too disappointed being out these two if they fail,” Cyllene sighed, relenting under Laventon’s hopeful glare. “Fine, fine—give me a name, we need something to carve on your tombstone,” she said, grabbing a pen.
“Obake,” Obake said, sharing her sentiments on the matter. Glance over at Tadashi, who had drawn himself up—struck him with how much he resembled Hiro in that moment.
“My name is Tadashi Hamada,” Tadashi declared. “And I’m gonna need a hat.”
2,726 words
...
More Pokémon
More BH6
In the ongoing saga of Obake and Tadashi get Isekai’ed…might start doing some writing to go along with it, mostly for the end of the sections. As such, have how the boys got together in the first place! Obake is not amused and Tadashi is quoting Kung-Fu Panda 2 and other assorted movies.
In other news, apparently there was at least one instance of monkeys escaping an enclosure and being bribed back with treats, which is what Obake is referencing here. But COME ON, it’s Pokémon! They exist! Don’t judge him!
Find it on eclipse here, as always please be kind and reblog, not repost, thank you! :D
Pokémon © Game Freak; Nintendo
Big Hero 6 © 2014 Disney
Done in Adobe Photoshop.
#bh6#pokemon#big hero 6#big hero six#pokemon legends arceus#big hero 6 the series#big hero six the series#obake and tadashi get isekai'ed#obake#tadashi#adobe photoshop#my art#my writing#professor laventon#cyllene#laventon's like 'free labor!' and cyllene is like 'cheap executions'#bh6 month#bh6 month 2023#have a full-on fanfic oneshot for this goofy series of mine
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Spartober Day 24 Destiny (Vergil)
Author's note: I am aware this is just a retelling of Vergil's story in dmc 5 i just wanted to delve into his mind and fuck with some extra diallogue to add to the scenes and make it ..kinda deep... anyways i hope you enjoy today's prompt!
Prompts by whatsanapocalae1 (I use a combination of SparTober and Devil MayTober Prompts)
24: Destiny (Vergil)
Suffering Defeat after Defeat the man’s body was reaching its limit. Breaking down. But he couldn't die yet. The man had a job that must be done. To Defeat his twin Brother…
Vergil stumbled, a shell of his former self, his hood over him as his voice was gravelly and low he panted as he took each step staggering slightly, he knew where to find the Yamato and he was on his way to retrieve it.
He stopped in his tracks seeing the garage door open he could sense the power of the yamato nearby, he watched in awe at Nero tilting his head beneath the hood as he heard him speak asking a direct question to him. But he chose not to respond not when he’s close to getting what he wanted from him.
Nero’s arm radiated an iridescent blue hue like a beacon to Vergil, he knew why he was there, Vergil swiftly made a move for Nero’s arm lunging for it before throwing him against the wall tearing the arm off in the process.
Whimpers of pain could be heard from the young Sparda, but Vergil paid him now mind as he muttered “This…is my destiny Boy…Not yours…” he held up the arm and turned his head slightly to see Nero wincing in pain.
“I’m taking this back…” he said in a raspy tone. Watching as Nero screamed in pain falling back as blood spurt out from the wound.
The arm transformed into the Yamato with a powerful glow , it was almost too powerful for Vergil to hold in his weakened condition as he keeled over in pain wheezing with a cough.
“You..are no more than a homage to your father…” he said in between coughs before clutching his waist.
“I’m running out of time” he said as he unsheathed the Yamato, raising it up in a swift motion cutting in a cross motion opening a portal to where he needed to be, ignoring his son’s calls for help . there will be no time to waste..he couldn't stand and wait…
The Portal closed as he made it to the Sparda household, the house burnt and dilapidated a husk of what was once full of love and joy now left to rot after that unfortunate night, the night Eva Died, the Night Vergil had to watch all while Dante hid in the closet.
Vergil stood in the middle of the room, his eyes fixated on the burnt family portrait as he turned away in pain as he sighed “Dante…” he said as he unsheathed the Yamato looking at his reflection as he smirked weakly.
He spread his arms dramatically as he held the hilt of the blade with both hands preparing himself for what he must do. It was his destiny…
Vergil shuddered hesitating for a moment before plunging the katana into his abdomen he groaned in pain as he spoke with a grunt “..Heavy Chain, that does freeze my bones around!” he recited with a loud scream of pain mirroring his son's agony in a way as the sword went straight through him separating his human side..
In order to defeat his younger brother, he could only do one thing with the crumbling flesh and feelings.
He needed to separate man from devil with the strength of The Yamato.
Vergil let the demon take over as crimson flames erupted from his once weak body now strengthening it, providing him with the power he so desperately craved as his body convulsed and blood splattered on the floor, his transformation reaching its peak as he sounded more demonic.
And eventually. The man became a true devil…
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Linked Universe Player Au
You didn't even know what happened.
One minute, you were strolling quietly on your way back home from work, music full blast in your ears to drown out the world around you and the next?
Being chased by some demonic presence in a cosplay.
"Shit, shit, shit!" You cursed, darting around the corner of another home onto the next deserted street, continuing to sprint down the road as if it were the devil on your heels and in this case, it was. It was interesting how adrenaline worked though, you’d usually barely make it a few feet before keeling over wheezing but here you were, making fine work of the pavement as you raced to get away from whatever monstrosity was chasing you.
You would have been impressed if a demon wasn't chasing you.
Talking about that…thing, you hadn’t seen it for over seven minutes now, not ever since you lost it in the alleyway you ran into (a stupid mistake, you knew, but you were taking as many shortcuts you could) Its presence practically disappearing when you ran to the cluster of homes nearby. You knew a few more streets and you would have been home, you were actually close now, but now….
You had to go through the park.
A country park, a large country park but you only had to cut through, your home was only a ten-minute walk from here to there and with you darting through the trees? It would be no more than five until you were in safe territory.
It wasn’t the brightest (Brightest, you laughed, it was utterly foolish) only the dumb of the dumb from horror movies would take that route, the better was to stay on the lit street with homes you could run to if you needed help. But these houses rounded the entire park. It took at least an hour to get to your home, so going straight across would be the best way.
You had tried earlier to call the police, but your phone had died suddenly, despite being at 84% when the thing had first appeared. There was no time to call again when you were running for your life, so you’d try again now and if that still didn’t work, you’d try at home.
You prayed to whatever deity that ran this world to let you live long enough to tell your mother you loved her.
“Come on” Pressing the power button almost seemed fruitless until your phone finally buzzed to life, the familiar symbol of your device flashing across the screen that made tears pool on the corners of your eyes, pent up fear and relief releasing in the form of a sob as you typed in your pin and headed straight for the call button, the phone operator’s voice parroting the official greeting.
“Please! I need he-lp, I was- I was being chased- and I-”
“Hold on, love, take some deep breaths for me, try not to panic. I won't be able to understand you if you do”
You wanted to scream from frustration, trying to push down the cries and hyperventilation when the handler spoke again, voice reassuring. “It’s alright, sweetheart, I’m here. I can send a car to your location to make sure you’re safe but I’m gonna need your location and your name”
“My name is (Full name)! I’m currently in St Marianne’s park but I’m heading towards Bannerman Road-”
You felt it. The familiar, predator glare you had felt earlier when you first stumbled upon your pursuer.
Taking the phone away from your ear, the operator’s voice getting louder with worry as they called for your attention but you weren’t focused on that, no, you were focused on the figure further down the path back the way you came, the person, draped entirely in shadows with sharp red eyes staring you down. Its entire presence felt like all the evil within your corrupted world materialized into one place, lean and mean, as it waited for something, what that something was you had no clue but you knew it wasn’t anything good that would come from it. The phone in your hands finally fizzled out, the screen fading back to black but you didn’t notice with your frenzied heartbeat pounding in your ears.
You loved listening to scary stories, you were always a mystery fan and you always wondered how the victim's felt to be in this exact position. Watching what would be your potential harasser, kidnapper…murderer study you as they assessed just exactly what your next move was. Standing in the middle of (what was practically) a forest, pitch black with only the moonlight as your guide, too far from any human life to scream for help, phone out for the taking and just waiting…
It is said there are four reactions one could have to these situations.
Fight, flight, freeze or fawn.
You always thought of yourself as a fighter but earlier had proved different. Flight did seem like the best option then.
Once again faced with that scenario,
You didn’t change that decision.
You heard its footsteps behind you, pounding against the dirt and crunching the fallen leaves as it chased after you. Not even bothering to follow the winding path, you barrelled your way through the forestry, leaping over logs and bushes, dodging past trees. Doing anything and everything to avoid whatever awaited you at the hands of that thing. This couldn’t be the way you died, right? By some sort of demon- this only happened in movies! You had to be dreaming.
But the branches scratching at your clothes and skin proved otherwise.
So tired, your bones ached, your chest was constricting and you were positive you were slowing down. You willed yourself to move faster but at this rate, it had been too much, you couldn’t, the thing would catch you at this moment and you wanted to scream to the high heavens for help.
Finally, you understood why the victims in horror stories always seemed to trip over themself when running from their inevitable doom.
There was a sound. A weird, unexplainable sound that felt like nothing and everything at once, forcing an almost paralyzing shiver through your body that made you glance back in morbid curiosity.
A mistake.
Something formed in its hand, held in front of it and grew ever so bigger with each step you guys took. It was black, similar to its entire body but darker, (absolute black was the only way you could use to describe it) and trilateral in shape.
Dear God, was this thing about to kill you with a magic triangle?!
You would have laughed had you not been in a state of ice-cold terror.
Then something appeared before you.
The world slowed down around you, body swivelling around while your boots dug into the dirt below you attempting to force stop your entire being from entering the now towering, brightly growing portal to (what you assumed) hell only for a huge weight to slam into you from behind, body tumbling forward into the gateway and vision fading to black.
Time resumed to normal pacing when you stumbled through into another area, too disoriented from whatever you had just experienced to get a good glimpse at where exactly you were until you were rolling down a gravel hill, a scream falling from your mouth as the world spun around you, grunts and cries drowned out by the blood pumping through your ears until finally, you slammed into something hard, knocking the lights out of you and resulting in your body slumping against whatever the thing was.
Two boots appeared right in your field of sight, too tired and hurt to even react when the thing from earlier leaned down with a smirk that made your stomach churn.
The edges of your vision were black, the colour slowly seeping to the rest of your eyes when the thing looked up in surprise, then darted away just before you finally fell unconscious.
-----
Waking up in bed was always one of the best and worst things in life. If you were waking up for a day of nothing, you could stay in the warmth of the duvet until you decided enough was enough, however, waking up with an alarm blaring in your ears signalling it was the start of the workday or of university, you hated how it felt like the covers were boxing you in and keeping you there, like some sort of exposure torture.
The bed was extra warm today, the sun glaring through the window beside your bed screaming at you and causing a scowl to grow on your face, turning over to face away from the light in an effort of falling back to sleep. Too tired to deal with the day is how you felt.
It’s when you were falling back asleep when you felt….odd.
Were your covers always this light? It felt like with one kick you could send them flying off you. Was your bed ever this big? You stretched your entire arm out and only just grazed the other side of the mattress. Why was there light in your room when you always closed the curtains? And why did it feel so warm? It was the middle of fucking January.
You peaked one eye open, then another when you realised not only were you not in your room you were in a completely different house.
“What…” You muttered under your breath, slowly pushing yourself onto your arms to take a glance around the place.
It was simple, nothing extravagant, boring brown walls surrounding you with the exception of some windows, a small staircase leading up to the (what you could barely call with the lack of privacy) bedroom with just a single bed that you were laying in and when you leaned over the side of the railings to the platform, you spotted the dining table, kitchenette and hanging barrage of weapons hanging from the walls.
Decorative swords were always a fun sight to see, you had some of your own back home!
But seeing them in some random person’s house that you had awoken in wasn’t really the best thing to see, especially if they weren’t someone you wanted to be near. A weapon was a weapon, fake or not.
You needed to get out of here.
You spotted your work boots at the edge of the bed, along with your bag, rushing over to them you hurried back into your attire in hopes of sneaking away while the house was still empty.
Your panic from the night before had returned tenfold, your gut-churning while you raced down the stairs, missing 2 steps at a time to finally jump on the ground floor and nearly barrel into the door, throwing it open.
9 different faces looked at you in various degrees of surprise.
You stared at them right back.
Someone opened their mouth, a guy looking a little older than you with brown hair and a white embroidered cape but whatever they were about to say didn't make it out when you screamed in pure terror and slammed the door back shut.
You stumbled upon grabbing a weapon (A spear?) then dashed right into the corner behind the stairs with the pointed end of the staff pointed directly towards the opening when you heard the door being pulled open once again.
"Hey, it's okay!" Footsteps rushed over, another male about the same age as you in an outfit similar to something that Peter Pan would wear speedwalking around the corner with a look of concern on his face "We're not gonna- WOAH!"
"GET BACK I HAVE A POINTY STICK!"
"Will you calm down?" Another man with pink streaks sassed, popping around suddenly only to yelp when you jabbed it in his direction when he tried to get closer.
"BACK! BACK I SAY!"
A taller man appeared around the corner and something sparked in your head, you had no idea what caused it but you felt it had something to do with how, at that moment, the people you had looked familiar. Red looking tiger marks on the right of his cheeks, a scar over his eye on the same side and a sort of blue-lined diamond on his forehead. His hands were held up defensively, approaching you slow and steady as if he were gaining ground on a frightened animal, his face was stoic but his eyes, a beautiful shade of ocean blue, were kind.
“It’s alright” He started, your eyes locked with his own “You’re okay, you’re safe. We’re not gonna hurt you.”
A part of you wanted to believe him.
But your anxiety also scratched at your brain, screaming.
YOU CAN NOT TRUST THESE RANDOM PEOPLE.
You tightened your grip on your impromptu weapon and the man took a calculated step back.
“Sure” Your laugh was obnoxiously fake “Because waking up in some random person’s house after being chased by the devil himself is such a good sign of safety, you highlighter-hair bastard”
There was a laugh in the background but you only spared a single glance, noting that the many other people from outside had gathered behind, what you guessed, was their leader. It was the only option to keep your eyes on him, he was closest, he could probably yank the spear from your hands without a second thought, hell, he looked strong enough to do it with one hand.
You couldn’t drop your ground.
The man didn’t react to your insult. “I understand you’re confused, but I promise you that we haven’t done anything nor do we plan to harm your person. Even if we were planning to hurt you, wouldn’t we have done something while you were unconscious? Would we have let your rest in our only bed?”
That….was a fair point.
Course, he could’ve been trying to trick you, lure you in with a pretence of safety just for them all to strike but with 8 people backing him up, they could have easily overtaken you already, armed or not, so what was his reason for lying when he obviously controlled the cards on the table?
Your grip weakened but you still didn’t back down “I- um, no- uh-....where am I?”
He released his breath, lowering his hands slightly “You’re currently in a house residing in Hateno Village”
That caught your attention “I’m sorry, did you just say Hateno Village?”
Confusion clouded his face before it was washed over by understanding “Yes, Hateno Village, far East within Hyrule Kingdom. Did the creature chasing you take you far from your home?”
Your face was comical, to say the least, “Hyrule?”
The man nodded.
The noise that left you wasn’t healthy.
“Very far, it sounds” Came another voice from behind him.
“Maybe before you, Hero of Skyloft?”
“But why would the shadow travel so far before all of our timelines?”
“Perhaps he was trying to reach the first hero but fell short on his attempt?”
“That could mean there’s a possibility on a range of how far this creature can travel"
You noticed it now, the clothes looking as if they had been hailed straight from Medieval times, ears pointed similar to that of elves- but you couldn’t believe such- such an impossibility! There was no way, no fucking way, you had been chased by a demon into a fucking video game like some sort of shitty fanfiction trope!
Everything continued to build within you, the group continuing their little chat that fell to deaf ears when you finally erupted, gripping the spear tightly once again and waving it around “Hyrule!? Are you MENTAL!? HYRULE DOESN’T EXIST! WHERE THE HELL AM I AND YOU BETTER STOP LYING!”
The man stumbled back in surprise when you trod ground, the group backing up along with him at your unbridled rage and confusion. “What’s next!? Fairies are real?! Ganon’s running around free right at this moment!? Are you gonna tell me that Zelda’s in the closet with a camera!? Or maybe Impa’s outside right now with the royal guard!!”
There was another laugh falling from your lips, it was nervous, a little crazed but more scared than anything “Hell! Next, you’re gonna tell me that you’re Link, The Great Hero of Hyrule!”
Silence.
A very uncomfortable silence.
The group glanced between one another and you felt your eye twitch “No. Just- no! You’re all insane- let me out of here!”
You weren’t taking this anymore, no, you were not. You had no idea where you were, there were crazy people all around you, talking about crazy stuff that made your head throb in pain and throat tighten in fear. Why were you here? How were you here? Had you maybe been drugged by these people somehow and dreamed about the demon in the process? It did look similar to the tallest of the lot, maybe his frame had warped in your delirious state?
You wanted out, you wanted out, out, out, OUT-
A giggle reached your ears, small and airy that made you snap to the direction where it had come from.
The weapon in your hands clattered to the floor when you dropped it.
The fairy laughed again, circling around your head and tugging at your hair playfully to gain your attention.
You had to be dreaming…
Your hands cupped before you, the fairy sat comfortably in your grip, cuddling into your thumb.
…right?
.....
Without even another second, you stormed out of the house, not sparing the others a word even when they called out for you to have a proper look around the area.
The bridge that lead to Link’s house, the town that stood beyond it, Hateno Village. You rushed over to the edge of the cliff the home stood at to look in complete awe at the sight you had only ever seen in pixelated form.
“Hyrule…”
The monster encampment buzzed around with monsters at the base of Hateno tower, Mount Lanayru stood proud within the north, Death Mountain just peaking over some other mountaintops with Divine Beast Vah Rudania settled on top and Divine Beast Vah Medoh barely being made out beside the Dueling Peaks.
You couldn’t say anything.
The fairy nuzzled into your cheek worriedly at your reaction, cooing kindly.
“Quite the sight, isn’t it?” You thought it had come from the fairy first but a quick glance to your left revealed one of the men, a familiar blue tunic with beautifully long, buttercup blonde hair and…scars, starting from his brow and disappearing beyond sight under his clothing. You were the same height as him, just levelled to his sky blue eyes… “I always love being here, you can see the whole of Necluda région”
This had to be…
“You’re…really Link?” Other things came flooding back to you, the tattooed man, the boy with the white cape, pink streaks and a Peter Pan look alike “All of you?”
Link, Hero of the Wild, sent you a smile that made your knees weak “That’s right”
You turned back to the landscape. “Jesus fucking Christ”
His hand landed on your shoulder, squeezing gently “Why don’t you come back to the house? The Old Man- Hero of Time, wants to ask you some questions…actually, we all do”
Body shaking, anxiety peaking, you nodded your head slowly the fairy, seemingly your new friend with her persistence to be in your space (not that you minded), settled on your opposite shoulder to pat your neck encouragingly.
The three of you headed back towards the house.
__________________________________
So I decided to do my own version of Player meets Linked universe because I've wanted to do it for so long! I'm not sure if I'll make it a series, I just made this to introduce the reader because I'm now taking requests so please send stuff in!
Don't worry I'm still continuing with the yandere linked universe I just got a bit of writer's block so I made this to help me combat it!
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Creep
Prelude - bitch hold on what about mean brother Shigs being an absolute creep? Inspired by me playing a boss in AC Odyssey and my controller vibrated so hard I almost dropped it, and I couldn’t beat this dude and it was so freaking frustrating!!!!!!
Pairing - Shigaraki X Reader
Warnings - - INCEST, NSFW, innocence kink, do not read if those squick you out bro!!! Seriously! abuse of trust, dubcon, noncon, literally nothing about this situation is good, or healthy, or nice. Disgusting behavior is exhibited by Shigs.
Music - (does anyone actually like when I provide music? I like getting music vibes while I read through fics but ik that my music taste is a bit wacky lol anyways). https://open.spotify.com/track/0ODyahnUlK9G5bT4dA5NCI?si=10R9ggoJS1inYidrMeWrHA
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He offers to let you play his Xbox game, you keep annoying him by pouting for his attention and he gives up with trying to ignore you.
Stipulation - you gotta sit on his lap while you play, you’re such a stupid little girl that he forces his hands over yours, showing you how to use the Xbox controller while sneering at how dumb you are.
You’re too focused on the game to pay attention to how one of his hands has dropped from the controller, is creeping up your thigh, thumbing at the hem of your shorts. You don't realize that he’s plastered against your back, breath picking up in your ear as he hunches over your shoulder, thinking of all the dirty things he wants to do to you, how you’re too absent-minded to realize how much of a perverted creep he is.
“Shit!” You curse, breaking Shigaraki out of his thoughts as you bounce your leg in frustration. He feels the slight vibration of the controller - you’re getting attacked in the game, enemies surrounding you and hacking at your player. Shigaraki is too entranced by how he can watch your jiggling breasts over your shoulder, jostling around as you jerk your arms, trying to not die in the game.
“Nii-san help me, ‘m gonna die!” You shriek, whole body getting into the gaming experience, jerking around in his lap as you struggle to press the right buttons. Shigaraki tries not to groan - he can feel the space between your thighs as you move around, hot and doughy and he wants to touch so bad.
Yeah, he’s always been a bit of a creep, but he’s never actually done anything to you.
The most he does is fantasize, thinking about how you’d feel clamping down on him, how’d you’d taste if he made you ride his face. What you’d look like if he forced his cock into you with barely any prep - you’d squeeze your eyes shut so tight, let out little whimpers and clench your fists because “Hurts, hurts! Go slow Nii-san, don’t want this!”
But he wouldn’t have to listen, you’re just a naive little girl who doesn’t know that Shigaraki would be trying to make you feel good too, that it would feel good soon.
“Stop wiggling, you’re gonna fall off.” He rasps back at you, taking his other hand off the controller to grab your waist, barely saving you from keeling over and onto the floor. You’re left to fend for yourself now, button-mashing, groaning when you finally succumb to your enemies and die a violent, gory death.
“I died! Why didn’t you help, you’re right here?!” the accusatory tone of your voice is ignored as you revert to the last save, huffing in frustration as you’re forced to start over.
“You’re never gonna learn if I’m holding your hands like that.”
Shigaraki’s glad you’ve stilled again - if you’d kept up your wiggling, he’d have to figure out a way to explain what the hard thing poking into the side of your plush little rear.
God, you had the most perfect ass.
Maybe he’s a freak, a disgusting man with fucked up morals, but Shigaraki’s always been a social outcast, seen as weird and wrong and criticized for every little thing he did.
What’s wrong with settling into the role other people were so quick to offer him?
Surely you’ve noticed his odd behavior by now, the behavior that’s picked up in the last few years. How he stares at you a little more than he should, how sometimes he slips into bed with you, murmuring some lame excuse about not being able to sleep.
The way he freezes when you give him an affectionate hug, clenching his fists by his side as your breasts are squished up against his body.
You had to have caught on to his uncharacteristic softness with you. He’s still mean and coarse and rude, but there's an underlying affection underneath the way he mocks your outfits, when he says you look like the gross character out of a manga he’s reading, how he tugs on your hair sometimes when he passes by you, wheezing out a laugh if you turn around and try to slap at him in irritation.
If you didn’t want him to be weird, you could’ve said something by now. You should’ve said something by now.
So really, it’s your own fault that he feels so comfortable being a sicko.
“Don’t tickle, I gotta focus.” You tell him, squirming away when he runs a hand experimentally over your stomach. You’re so cute, and dumb, he wants to bully you until you’re crying, say mean things and hurt your feelings only so he can kiss it better.
But he doesn’t, because he’s a good brother.
His hand travels further up, rests right underneath your breast, almost cupping it. Still, you don’t say anything, attention on the game.
Do you want this? Are you just stupid? His affection is so obviously not normal for siblings, and yet you act like it’s fine. Maybe you’re a virgin, untainted with the knowledge of how sexual touches feel like.
The hand on your waist begins to slip under your shorts, his cold fingers quickly warmed by your skin. “Nii-san, stop that, it’s weird.”
Ah, there’s the common sense.
“I though you wanted to play the game? Don’t be a bitch.” He doesn’t really care whether you want him willingly now or not, he’s getting excited by the heat of your body, your weight on his lap.
You pause the game when his hand creeps lower into your shorts, when his fingers skim low over your tummy, too close to a private place that brothers shouldn't touch.
“Stop touching me, I don’t like that.”
“It’s not like you wouldn’t enjoy it.” He mumbles, and you stiffen in his lap, but he quickly takes his hand out of your shorts, stops cupping your soft breast.
The game gets unpaused, and you resume playing, although your attention is divided now, nervous about sitting in your brother’s lap.
Has it finally clicked? Are you thinking about what he could do to you, how he could make you feel?
“You suck at this.” Shigaraki observes, the controller shaking almost violently as you’re attacked again, overwhelmed by enemies.
“Well, maybe if you taught me how to play instead of being weird, I wouldn’t be.” You snarked, frustrated with the game, uneasy with your brother holding your hips like that.
Shigaraki rolls his eyes. You’re so dramatic, and although you have a valid point, he’s always been weird. This is nothing new, you’ve just been too thick-skulled to realize it before, which isn’t his fault.
A few more tries, and you still can’t get past the one group of enemies, dying after a few minutes every single time. You’re going to waste the batteries like that, controller jumping in your hands.
“I can’t-” You whine, coming across the enemies after your latest death, already knowing what’s going to happen.
Shigaraki stays silent, red eyes finally flickering away from your body and up to the screen of the TV.
You’re at one of the hardest parts of the game, facing a section that took Shigaraki two days to beat (not that he’ll tell you that). He grins as you throw yourself into the fight, immediately getting decked.
The noises you’re letting out are cute, frustrated groans on each hit landed on your player, muttered curses and triumphant scoffs whenever you manage to strike an enemy, which isn’t often.
The controller’s still shaking like crazy, and you’re moving around in his lap again, and Shigaraki is done. He can’t take this anymore, you’re being a tease.
He snatches the Xbox controller out of your hands, ignoring your little “Hey! What’re you doing, I was playing!”
“You call this playing?” The shuddering of the controller surprises him, gives him an idea.
There hadn’t been a plan, he had just been acting on instinct, hands itching to push you off his lap and to the floor, just to see the way you’d look up at him after.
Like that, you’d be in the perfect position to suck his cock.
But he wants to go in a different direction now.
“Stay still, you’re so annoying.” He’s spreading his legs out, sinking back further in his chair to get a better angle, your legs hooked over his.
There’s no time for you to protest. Like this, you’re spread out nicely, exposed, even though your shorts cover your intimate place.
Without any further preamble, Shigaraki shoves the vibrating controller up against your clothed cunt.
“NIi-san!” You shriek, immediately writhing in his hold. But Shigaraki has an arm locked around your chest, keeping you pinned to his chest. “Don’t, think sins’t-this isn't-! Stop this, stop! Don’t touch me!”
He can bet it feels good, that you’re struggling to tell him to stop. He begins rubbing the controller against you, snickering at the way you jolt and writher on each pass of the hard, curved plastic against your protected clit. He can’t even imagine how good it would feel if your stupid shorts weren’t in the way.
“Stop, stop! Stop it! Stop!” You sound like a broken record.
“Shut up, you can’t even play the game right. Feel that?” the controller gets rubbed harder against you, and you writhe. “That’s how bad you are. So pathetic, can’t even fend off a couple of bad guys.”
Can’t even fend off one, Shigaraki thinks to himself. You could be trying harder to get out of his hold, could be screaming and yelling and scratching and kicking.
Well, you are scratching and kicking, moving around so much that he’s having a hard time keeping you still. And you making a lot of noise, but there’s no one else home.
He’s fully hard, and every movement you make struggling rubs him right up against the meat of your ass, and he sucks in a stuttered breath, biting his lip.
“No, no, no, no, don’t want this Nii-san, stop it-” Your panicked pleas are ignored, Shigaraki shoving your hands away as you try to pull the controller off of your cunt, get the vibrations to stop.
On screen, the player is still getting attacked, each new hit making the controller vibrate even harder.
“Ow, ow! It hurts, make it stop! Nii-san-”
“I’ll gag you if you don’t stop complaining.” Shigaraki seethes, feeling irritation creep up. “It hurts because you’ve never felt this good before, idiot.”
He remembers the first time he’d used something on his dick. It was your toothbrush, unsurprisingly, the one that vibrated with three different speeds and made you so proud of your pearly whites.
It had been so overwhelming, he couldn’t even touch the back of the head to his cock. At times, it felt so good it had hurt, had completely blinded his senses and leave him in a puddle of his own cum and sweat, panting.
So Shigaraki understood what you were trying to say - your inexperienced body needed him to slow down, ease up a little. But your gross, nasty brother wanted to ruin you.
Your character on screen died, resulting in one last heavy vibration that made you sob, thighs struggling to snap shut, hands desperately pushing at Shigaraki.
He felt you convulse in his grip, could practically feel the way your little hole was clenching as you gushed all over yourself, whining and moaning at the pleasure.
Your character was sent back to the last save, the game on a loading screen.
But Shigaraki wasn’t done.
He was still hard against your back, rubbing himself off as best he could, but he was finding his own pleasure in watching you writhe on his lap.
The controller was tossed to the side, nimble fingers sliding over your shorts, Shigaraki laughing at what he found.
“You’re so wet, holy fuck. That’s disgusting, wow.” You were drenched, the fabric of your shorts completely soaked with your juices. You only sobbed out a pitiful noise, maybe trying to deny it, but Shigaraki wasn’t listening. He was too busy rubbing over the wet spot, gleefully feeling you up. It was easy for his fingers to find a comfortable, mind-numbing rhythm, so used to playing games and deftly pushing buttons, using sticks and joysticks, directional pads and the like.
You were rocking against his hand unconcsiously, body unable and unwilling to decided whether to pull away or push closer - you had just cum, but that didn’t negate the vicious, heady sensation that his fingers brought.
Shigaraki quickly grew bored of this though, unable to ignore his dripping erection. He had never been a patient man, quickly removing the hand stimulating your swollen pussy so he could pull his cock out of his sweatpants.
With a quick movement, your shorts were tugged down, your brother completely pushing past your refusal to lift your hips, burning your skin with how forcefully the fabric was ripped down.
“Nii-san, what are you doing-you can’t, you can’t!” You cried, renewing your struggle when you felt skin against skin, his cock hot and velvety as it rested against your cheeks. “I don’t wanna do this, don’t make me do this-”
“I don’t care. I’ve tried to be good, and it’s like you don’t even care.” The man ground out, beginning to rut his hips against your ass. It was dry, and it didn’t feel great, but it was more than enough to satisfy Shigaraki. “I barely touch you, I keep my hands to myself-”
Which was a lie. Late at night, when he was sure you were fast asleep, he’d touch, just a little. Rubbing your nipples, feeling them peak under his touch. Feeling the curve of your waist, skin soft against his dry palms.
“-I wouldn’t stare either, but you wear those stupid shirts-” The deep cut ones, the ones that showed off your cleavage and allowed him weeks of jerk-off material.
“So annoying, just a stupid little imoto that follows me around, you just want attention.”
He knows you don’t do it on purpose. You aren’t trying to make him see you in a sexual light. But maybe that’s what makes it all the more appealing, how naive and innocent you are.
Fuck, he’s getting close just thinking about your purity, how much you don’t know, how much he could teach you.
He doesn’t know a ton, but Shigaraki knows enough about what feels good for him, and you probably wouldn’t want to learn, but he deserved something nice every once in a while, didn’t he?
The drag of his cock between your ass cheeks was making him loose his mind, the slide too rough, but it felt delicious and stimulated him just right, pulling at his foreskin and spreading his precum into a sticky mess on your skin.
“Fuck, stay still, lemme feel good-” His voice was choked up, still holding it’s usual nasal resonance.
You sobbed in his hold, his fingers still playing over your shorts, exploring, keeping you occupied and frozen with sensation while he got himself off with your body.
And then he was breaking, splurting his seed all over your lower back, watching it come out of his cock in shaky squirts, painting your skin a cloudy white.
Shigaraki groaned, eyes transfixed to the sight before him. It was hard to keep them open, body shaking with little snaps of pleasure in his veins, in his stomach.
On the bed next to his thigh, the controller started shaking again. Panting, Shigaraki raised his eyes to the TV screen as you slumped against him, softly crying.
Your character was getting attacked again.
“Let’s keep playing.”
And the vibrating controller was pressed to your bare cunt, making you scream.
He’d have to wash it after this, but he figured it was worth it in the grand scheme of things
#gross misuse of Xbox controller#and I mean GROSS#shigaraki#shigaraki tomura#shigaraki tenko#one sided relationships#yandere shigaraki#bnha shigaraki#tw.incest#tw noncon#tw dubcon#dead dove do not eat#creepy shigaraki
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please take this as a prompt to write as angsty a fic as u want. mwah mwah (💌 — astrid)
(to preface: this is basically just canon divergence nonsense after barry burns rafe’s arm on his bike in s1 👹)
rafe jerks awake with a start.
he’s not sure what roused him from his (not so peaceful) slumber, until he hears the sharp knock again. it’s something hitting one of his bedroom windows - the one closest to his bed.
the room feels like a deep freezer when rafe crawls out from between his sheets. he likes the room to be cold when he sleeps - he has dreams, and dreams make him sweat.
(maybe they can be classified more as nightmares. but no one is asking, so it doesn’t really matter either way.)
rafe enjoys the cold significantly less when he has to walk through it in the middle of the night. it feels good on his arm, at least, where barry burned him. it soothes the sting that he’d been able to ignore while unconscious.
when rafe walks up to the window to investigate, he nearly keels over and dies.
because the source of the noise is none other than barry the fucking coke dealer himself.
speak of the devil, and whatnot.
rafe shoves the window open with a grunt. it opens outward, nearly knocking barry off the roof and onto the ground below. the corner of rafe’s lips twitch - he really would’ve liked to have seen that.
if he knew barry had such bad balance and coordination, rafe probably would’ve shoved the window open a little harder.
“i said i’d get you your money,” rafe says, the first to speak.
barry just rights himself, arching one brow. “i know.”
“so why the fuck are you here?”
barry doesn’t wait for an answer. he simply stares at rafe for a beat, before crawling through the window, elbowing rafe out of the way in the process.
the movement makes rafe’s arm throb, and he clutches at it with a hiss.
not sparing rafe a single glance, barry just circles the room, whistling. far too loud for this time of night.
“sweet setup you got here, country club,” barry tells him. he finally turns to look at rafe head-on, his dark eyes unreadable.
rafe is still clutching his arm, wincing. “thanks. it looks nicer without you in it, so. bye.”
barry laughs, a full-bodied thing that should make rafe want to kill him. it certainly shouldn’t make rafe shudder like a bitch in heat, but it does.
it does.
“ain’t getting rid of me that easy,” barry snorts. then, his gaze zeroes in on rafe’s hand grasping his wounded arm. “get over here and lemme see that.”
“no,” rafe answers, immediately, shaking his head. “no fucking way.”
barry purses his lips. he stares at rafe like he’s staring into his soul, and rafe wants to gouge his eyes out so he’ll stop.
“wasn’t aware i gave you an option, baby boy.”
rafe’s heart does a messy little dance in his chest, and his insides feel like a puddle of goo.
he hates barry, he really does. the fucker gave him a 3rd degree burn not even twelve hours ago. and yet. here rafe stands, eyes and stomach full of hearts and butterflies and all that disgusting shit, all because of something as pathetic as a nickname.
it’s not even an affectionate nickname. it’s condescending, and it should make rafe want to tear someone’s head off. preferably barry’s.
it doesn’t.
rafe moves closer, cautiously. when he’s within reach, barry just reaches out and grabs rafe’s bad arm, yanking him in and closing the distance.
rafe bites his tongue so hard he nearly draws blood, trying to stuff his pained groan right back down his throat. it doesn’t really work, and barry notices, but doesn’t comment on it.
instead, he takes rafe’s arm and examines it, like the burn is something he’s never seen before. like he’s not the one who put it there.
“lemme fix this up for you,” barry mumbles, still staring at rafe’s arm. like maybe the burn will magically sprout legs and run off into the night, never to be seen again.
“why?” rafe asks, swallowing around the lump that has been steadily growing in his throat since barry’s arrival.
barry uses his free hand to grasp rafe’s chin, forcing their eyes to meet. “because you ain’t in control, rafe cameron. and you need to get that through your pretty little head.”
“that doesn’t answer my question, like, at all,” rafe mutters, then winces when barry’s grip on his arm and chin both tighten.
“because i’m in control,” barry continues, like rafe never even spoke at all, “you got that? you ain’t making the decisions around here no more.”
“wasn’t aware i was making any decisions in the first place,” rafe mutters, glaring down at his arm.
barry lifts rafe’s arm up, releasing his chin to gently trace his fingers over the tender wound. rafe winces again, and barry grins like a shark.
“quit arguin’ and be a good boy like your momma taught ya. and while you’re behaving, go get me some first aid shit.”
rafe feels like he’s frozen in place, the words turning over and over and over in his head. until barry’s nails dig in, and then he’s crying out, stumbling backwards. he’s out of the room a second later, practically tripping over himself as he heads down the hall to the storage closet where he knows ward keeps emergency supplies, disoriented.
by some miracle, the first aid kit is sitting right in the center of the middle shelf. rafe snatches it without a thought, turning to head back to his room before pausing.
barry has never been in control. it’s a pathetic illusion, rafe decides. he won’t gain control either - another thing rafe decides. and barry needs to be made aware of that.
rafe steels himself, trying to keep his chin up as he walks back into his room. he’s not going to let barry play this little game - not in his house, not after that little shitshow of a display this afternoon.
barry has his back turned, looking at some of the paintings hung on rafe’s walls. rafe walks up as quietly as he can, but he knows the moment barry realizes he’s behind him. because barry’s body tenses just so, just enough for rafe to notice.
when barry turns, rafe swings.
barry catches rafe’s fist easily, and okay. maybe barry isn’t as unbalanced or uncoordinated as rafe had thought. in a split second, barry has a hand wrapped around rafe’s throat, squeezing tight enough that rafe wheezes.
walking them back towards rafe’s bed - forcibly, rafe would like to make that clear - barry’s face twists into a furious snarl.
rafe collapses onto the bed with a gasp when barry lets go of his neck, coughing and wheezing as he tries to catch his breath.
“try that shit one more time,” barry warns, “and you ain’t gonna like what comes next.”
then, barry leaves rafe sprawled on the bed, massaging his throat, and makes a beeline for the first aid kit. rafe can hear him rummaging through it, grumbling to himself, before returning with a few assorted items.
when barry kneels down in front of him, right on his knees, rafe almost passes out again. he feels like he’s trapped in one of his nightmares, with some added sexual tension to spice things up a bit.
“gimme your arm,” barry orders, and rafe complies.
his throat is still aching, and he’s not particularly interested in barry making that worse, too. it’s already bad enough that barry is probably about to skin him alive - he doesn’t need any more choking involved. unless it’s the sexy kind.
but even then, rafe isn’t particularly interested. not when slaughtering barry in his room feels so incredibly tantalizing right now.
instead of skinning him alive, barry just smooths burn cream over the blistered mark on rafe’s arm. the way barry rubs it in is almost soothing; a smooth circling of his fingers, his touch almost featherlight.
when the burn cream sets, barry grabs some gauze from the pile next to him. he’s about to plaster it onto rafe’s arm when he pauses, staring at the burn like he’s been hypnotized.
“you sure are pretty when you all marked up,” barry says, breathless, like just the thought of marking rafe leaves him reeling.
rafe wishes, fleetingly, that barry would be interested in marking him in ways that wouldn’t leave him in agonizing pain afterward.
but wishes never really do come true, do they?
barry finally places the gauze on rafe’s arm, carefully, then wraps it up in a sticky bandage. he looks up at rafe when he’s finished, finally not staring at the burn like it’s something fucking holy.
“you’re not in control,” rafe tells him, his voice trembling. “you’re not. just because you did this doesn’t- ”
“you damn right i did this,” barry hisses, lurching upright so he can tower over rafe.
it’s the only time he can, really, what with rafe being a walking skyscraper and all.
“i gave the pain, i took it away,” barry continues. “ain’t that control, princess?”
“no,” rafe argues, shaking his head furiously. “no.”
“what would you call it then, if you so damn smart?”
rafe glares up at him, gritting his teeth. “i don’t fucking know, sadism? narcissism?”
barry snorts, then leans down and plants both hands on either side of rafe’s head, boxing him in. “then we one in the same, rafe cameron.”
this is the part where they should angrily kiss, rafe thinks. but barry doesn’t kiss him. he just straddles rafe’s hips, pinning him down before closing the distance and sinking his teeth into rafe’s bottom lip.
rafe arches up into it, trying to tangle his fingers in barry’s hair, but barry just swats his hands away. when he pulls back, he runs his thumb over the teeth indents now decorating rafe’s bottom lip.
“i hate you,” rafe pants, staring up at barry, his pupils blown wide. “i’m gonna kill you, barry. i’ll slit your throat while you’re asleep in your shit trailer and you can die in your own filth. and i’ll like it.”
barry moves in again, biting down on rafe’s jugular. this time, he draws blood. it’s staining his teeth when he pulls back.
“not if i kill you first,” barry says, softly, like it’s a sweet promise and not a harsh threat. “in my shit trailer, where you’ll be sleeping, because you gonna come running back, rafe cameron. and you can die in my filth, all marked up by me, so everyone will know who you belonged to when they put yo’ stupid ass in the ground. six feet deep.”
rafe wants to argue, but that’s part of the problem. he wants too much with barry. and he knows he’s right. rafe will come running back, someday, some way, somehow. he will.
when barry climbs off of him, rafe feels like he’s lost a limb. he keeps losing things to barry. and this whole thing between them, it’s a death sentence. at least for one of them.
rafe shouldn’t feel emptied out, hollow and lifeless, when barry pushes open the window he’d come through and crawls back onto the roof.
barry turns back, just for a moment, to flash scarlet-stained teeth at rafe before speaking.
“see you soon, country club.”
#rafebarry#outer banks#is this angst? no! is it fluff? no! is it hurt comfort? no!#i don’t know what this is but it sure is Something!#maybe it is angst idk#all i know is it’s not happy and that’s what counts 😌#hope u enjoy beloved mwah#my fics#ask#astrid tag
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Oooooohhh
For bad things happen bingo, could I request 'dragging themself along the ground' for an injured and sick male Supervillain, and him being found by a female hero who saves him despite being an enemy?
Yes I can!
Muddy Rain
@badthingshappenbingo
Warnings: intense descriptions of injuries, broken bones (ribs, legs, collarbone), implied concussion, fever, intense descriptions of vomit, left in a ditch, drugged with painkillers (morphine), headaches, delirium, loss of consciousness, mentions of death, mentions of starvation and dehydration, past torture, IVs, needles
~
Supervillain pulled himself forward once again, dragging his back legs with him, through the thick, black mud. He cried silently, tears mixing with the dirt and blood on his face.
He knew, without anything, not even a mere puddle that he was in bad shape. He could feel the lathering vomit and spit draining from his mouth and onto the front of his ripped up shirt. Mucus and blood from his nose seeped into that same mouth and irritated his cut up lips. He also had a sickening sensation of something sticky running down the side of his face. With his pounding headache, he confirmed that sometime during his torture- most likely one of the recent sessions- his head was smacked.
He wondered briefly if he blacked out at all. Was he ever given that luxury? He didn't know nor remembered.
The rest of his body felt like he was ran over by a semi. He vividly remembered both his legs being broken, that was one of the first pains he received. He also knew that a sledgehammer shattered mutiple ribs and his collarbone.
But the individuality of each injury didn't matter; no, it was the following pain that did.
Supervillain cried as he pulled himself along. He left arm was too weak from exertion, starvation, dehydration, and all that gunk, but his right arm had the broken clavicle.
He couldn't take it anymore. He collapsed on the ground, blackness swarming his vision as he lost consciousness.
He came to, or thought he did. The raging fever was making everything hazy and disoriented. He slowly and shakily brought himself to his arm, pulling himself a couple more feet before he keeled over again.
On the ground, he watched the headlights push through the pouring rain. Weakly, he raised a hand for help, but logic told that no one could see him.
Defeated, he laid his hand down. His head lolled in the mud. Vaguely, he realized he was in a ditch- right where his captors discarded him earlier, right when the rain had started.
He let a couple more tears slip from his eyes before once again trying to move. But the sudden movement sent a dizzying rush through his head and he nearly tumbled over again. But he dug his fingers into the cold ground and held fast, though the cars on the highway sent a nauseating feeling of vertigo through his being.
He didn't possess the strength to lurch forward and vomit, so he endured the painful stomach convulsions and allowed the puke to stream out of his mouth. He sucked in his stomach in an attempt to atleast keep it away from his shirt, but the effort was too momental and used too much precious energy. The majority of the vomit fell on his chest.
He sighed and tried to step foward. He prevailed, broken and bent legs painfully going over a rock. He cried out hoarsely, looking at the headlights once again. How he wanted just one of them to pull over and gather him in warm arms so he could sleep peacefully without a care in the world.
He shivered, feeling a chill run down his spine. He would get hyperthermia soon, pass out, then die. Atleast it would be painless.
His arms supporting him gave out and he crumbled to the ground. How many times has he fallen over? How many times has his body pleaded with his will to give up? Countless.
"Help," he murmured weakly, though it was in vain. If the cars couldn't see him, then how could someone hear him in the pounding rain.
But, a delirious mindset made him to it- a faux hope that someone, anyone, would save him before he died. Blackness coated his already dimmed and blurred vision, threatening to take hold again. Smiling, barely lifting his lips, he closed his eyes, only for them to shoot open with a loud, blasting noise.
He slowly, blinked his eyes open, dizzy with a headache, and looked at the scene above him. A car, a car, was pullled over, headlights shining directly on his soaked body. He lifted his head, but it swayed mid-air, so he dropped it into the mud again.
A humanoid shape sauntered over to him, holding a light. It pierced his eyes, sending an aching throb to his head, but he kept them open, desperate to see his savior.
"Sir? Are you okay?" The person was a girl, nervous voice elevated in pitch. Supervillain didn't reply. Unconsciousness was already trying to pull him under again.
"Do I need to call an ambulance? Oh gosh, you have a bone popping out of your leg. Yes, ambulance. Where's my phone..."
"No!" Supervillain exclaimed, lurching forward, hand extented weakly. "Please, don't," he begged, voice quivering.
"Oh my gosh. Supervillain?" The person asked, she crouched down to get a better look at his face. Supervillain let his head flop downwards, hoping it counted as a nod.
His eyes fluttered shut, blackness encassing him. The last thing he heard before he fully lost consciousness was, "Supervillain, hey bud. Stay with me. Oh my gosh stay with me, please."
Supervillain woke up screaming in pain. Everything hurt from his head to his legs and everything in between. He thrashed his head around, completely unaware of the new surroundings.
"Stop!" He cried, shrieking. To him, his world was a mass fury of agony and memories of torture. He rolled to his side during this outburst, wailing even louder when he jostled his collarbone.
"Help!" He screamed, pounding his fists into the ground. No this was soft- mattress.
He was being tortured in bed, he realized trying to pull away from his fantasy.
"Hey, hey."
Words.
Supervillain screamed again as he tried to shrink away from them. His captors always spoke to him.
Hands grabbed at his biceps, thrusting him flush against the bed. He whimpered, ducking his chin into his chest to dodge the inevitable backhanded slap.
"You need to stay still, buddy, okay? The morphine isn't working," the words spoke again. Supervillain sniffled, feeling an uncomfortable rattle in his chest. He wheezed, throat suddenly itchy.
One hand trailed down to his elbow. Suddenly, he was very aware of the small discomfort in it. A needle and bandages.
Soon, he heard a click and a cool sensation flooded his veins. He groaned, blinking open his eyes, and looked down at his elbow. Through his blurry vision, he could just make out a white wrap around his elbow and a line leading to a bag hanging from a metal stand.
He stiffened as another wave of pain hit.
"I know," the voice said. "Painkillers aren't working."
But they are, Supervillain thought as his eyelids drooped. They didn't take away his pain, but gave him this almost overwhelming sense of euphoria as he slowly drifted off.
"Yeah, bud, you rest," the voice said. A hand ruffled through his hair, then everything faded into nothingness.
But, before he truly passed out, a single thought infiltrated his drugged mind,
The voice sounded like Hero's.
#bad things happen bingo#supervillain whumpee#hero caretaker#injured supervillain#passing out#heros and villains#broken legs#broken ribs#unconscious supervillain#delirious supervillain#past torture#two posts in one day#good job me
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Kit awoke that morning to the sound of one very frustrated Mace and one very frustrated Anakin. He turned himself immediately to see what the problem was, and found himself standing in an instant.
Anakin was walking. Anakin, who had been struggling to speak just last night. Anakin, who had been barely able to breathe when they were traveling. Anakin, who had been battered and bruised and thoroughly beaten up when they’d found him. Their initial thoughts upon seeing him was that he’d died, and that was almost never a thought that came to them, even in the worst of times.
“I’m fine,” the boy was saying, as though he wasn’t walking around an ankle that looked twisted even through his boots and clothes. And there were many more injuries, both visible and not, that he currently possessed.
“You are not fine, Skywalker,” Mace snapped back, his eyes flickering down as he again took in the bloodstains and dirt and Force-knows-what-else. “You are severely wounded and we normally wouldn’t have even moved you.”
“I walked just fine yesterday and I can do it again today!”
Kit stepped forward then, already knowing that there was no way to verbally convince Anakin to give in. So, the next best way was physically convincing him.
The Tatooinian nearly keeled over when the Jedi Master’s hand found its way to his ribs. He didn’t even press, barely even brushed them, but already the Human was crumpling, bent in half and only kept up by Mace grabbing his shoulders.
“It doesn’t take the Force to see you’re hurt. You may be good at hiding pain bu-“ He cut himself off.
“What?” Mace asked, already beginning to lead Anakin to his place from last night. “What is it?”
Yesterday. Kit had thought that perhaps the presence of other Force-sensitives was allowing the Knight to release some of his pain better. The wheezes had become more even, likely as deep as they could possibly get at the moment. The dragging stumbles had become staggering steps, each foot lifting, however little.
“He was hiding it,” he told no one in particular. “When we thought he was letting the Force take his pain, he was just hiding it.”
Mace’s eyes widened fractionally before narrowing in anger. He could see the signs, too. And it fit much better with what they knew of Anakin’s instincts. He had never been prone to letting emotions go, or to thinking of his own recovery as a priority. When he was angry, scared, or in pain, he only thought of how to make sure it didn’t affect others. When he was sick, he thought only of not taking up others’ time in getting better.
Mace rounded on Anakin, and Kit barely had time to think of how bad it was all going to go before the lecture started.
“Skywalker, you shouldn’t hide your pain. It is only detrimental to yourself. You certainly shouldn’t push yourself when injured just to move faster.”
“Well,” the younger started, before stopping to wheeze slightly. He continued as soon as he could. “Well, I didn’t think you two would appreciate a heavier burden when you look like you’ve been attacked by a kraayt.”
“We may look like we fought a dragon, Skywalker, but you look like you fought a krifFING MYTHOSAURUS!” Kit flinched violently as his normally stoic friend shouted loudly, angrily, in a way he almost never did anymore. It seemed this planet had worn down the usual calm that Vaapad had allowed him to gain.
“I- what?” The outburst left Anakin no less ready to fight, but even now, the change in demeanor was clear. He was nervous, and unsure of how to respond to the outrage of his fellow Jedi. His eyes flitted to Kit’s, and that’s when the Nautolan noticed it.
A spike of orange, strong in color, flared through the other’s side of their bond. It faded, though not entirely, as the Human faced off against Mace once more.
“I’m fine, and I’m not going to weigh you two down just because I was reckless again. I’ve had worse.”
“WHEN?! When have you had worse, Skywalker?! I would think that report would’ve made its way to the Council’s ears at some point! And- No.” Mace stopped, backing away and taking several deep breaths. His presence crackled like a lightning storm before calming slightly, frustration dispersing into the Force. “No, we are done discussing this.”
Anakin’s mouth opened to argue, but it shut almost instantly as his eyes drooped, his head swiftly lolling. Mace caught him before he tilted forward too far, instead leaning the boy backwards.
“A sleep suggestion? Really?” Kit shook his head at the other’s ‘solution’ to the Knight’s stubbornness.
“I can’t guarantee I’ll be sane when we reach the others if he continues on like that. It seems everyone is affected by this planet in one way or another, and I’d like to leave it sooner rather than later.”
A silent plea for them to move on, to forget about the outburst, and about the bonds, and about everything but getting off the Force-forsaken planet in one piece. Kit listened, helping drape Skywalker’s arms over their shoulders and the two of them starting the trek to the rendezvous point.
“…So did you know he lost the hand, or were you in the dark as well?”
“Kit.”
“What? I’m just curious!”
“No, I was as unaware as the rest of the Council. How both Yoda and Obi-Wan managed to forget to put that a Padawan lost a limb in the report is beyond me, but I assumed the same as the rest of you.”
“We both know that Yoda probably did it on purpose.”
“…probably.”
~ ~
@the-storms-eye
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Hi 🤗 would you do an imagine for me? I adore your writing so much! A Bucky one where it’s your anniversary but you get called on a mission and it goes slightly wrong as you see a little bomb thrown in bucks direction. You push him aside and take the full impact of the explosion. You barely survive with serious injuries and you end up being revived and later in a coma and Bucky is always by your side. One day you finally wake up again and Bucky takes care of you and it’s all cute?
hey yall! quick warning: i literally nearly kill the reader, its kinda graphic, i defo had too much fun. spoilers for The Robber Bridegroom ahead lol. if ur into the Grimm stories that one is great. kinda disturbing tho.
Blood trickled down your cheek, seeping onto your tongue through the corners of your mouth. You keeled over, planting your hands on your bent knees as you gasped and panted. You stepped over the dead bodies littering the blood stained concrete. You surveyed the dying fight while you caught your breath. You were winning, just a few more bullets and the war would be won. You heard an explosion in the distance, but it sounded so far away that you didn’t bother worrying about it. One went off a little closer, but you ignored. You ran out into the battle, gun raised and unrelenting.
You saw Bucky, fighting not so far from you. You watched as the black box began to fall from the sky, right above his head. It landed a few feet in front of him, and in a moment of heroic realisation you sprinted toward your friend. You pulled him behind your back and began to push him away. Acting as a human shield as rapid beeping filled your eras. Deafening screaming filled your ears. Hot plastic burned your perfectly bruised skin, shrapnel lodged itself under your skin, it shattered your ribs, your heart threatening to beat out of its broken cage.
You collapsed into Bucky’s relatively unharmed chest, the battle around you died as the team rushed to surround you. Your ears rang. Your chest heaved painfully as you fought to breath, it was a struggle to keep your eyes open.
“you’re welcome,” you wheezed sarcastically, even in death you couldn’t help but crack a joke. You gestured weakly to the bleeding and weeping burns all over your body, “I guess I’m hotter than you now.”
“You’re a fucking idiot,” Bucky scolded you as you collapsed into his arms. They rushed you to the ship as you laughed dryly.
“If I’m dying, let me die,” you exclaimed, struggling to sit up. Bucky pushed you back down and Bruce began to inject sedatives and anesthesia into your open veins.
“You’re not dying,” Bruce assured. “Just go to sleep.”
You smiled apologetically at the group before closing your eyes. Your breathing slowed to almost a halt, your heart too. You didn’t think you’d wake up again. You squeezed Bucky’s thigh one last time before your entire body went limp.
You didn’t wake up again. Bruce could repair most of the damage, between he and Tony they patched you up. But they insisted that the coma you had slipped into was a godsend. Without it, you were dead, your body was healing itself.
You might as well have been dead, but Bucky refused to give up on you. He spent his days by your side, he slept on a mattress on the floor next to your bed. Days bled into weeks without any response. Bucky read to you, anything to keep him busy, to try and wake you up. He read in Russian and Romanian as well as English, he was desperate. He knew that Tony and Bruce were considering pulling the plug, you were brain dead, they didn’t think you were gonna wake up.
Bucky kept his eyes trained on the book, one he had found in a vintage store, it was a steal. So he brought it home, you seemed like the kind of person who liked the Grimm Brothers.
“ Then I will tell about a dream. I was walking alone through the woods, when finally I came to a house. Inside there was not a single human soul, but on the wall there was a bird in a cage. It cried out,” he read, almost chanted, like it was some ritual to wake you up. He thought he saw you stir, the simple twitch, he ignored it and read on.
“It cried out: Turn back, turn back, you young bride.
You are in a murderer's house.” Then you moved, Bucky was sure of it. He hurriedly read the end of the story, eyes flickering up to you all the time as you grew restless.
“Then he and his whole band were executed for their shameful deeds.“
You shot up, eyes open. You panted and shook, Bucky dropped the book and rushed to your side. He took your trembling form into his embrace, he rocked you gently as you calmed down. Tears welled in your eyes and you broke out in a cold sweat. The rest of the team rushed to your see you, but kept their distance.
“What the fuck were you reading?” You exclaimed between pants.
“Some old story,” Bucky mumbled, pressing kisses to your hairline.
“Its fucked up, gave me a nightmare”
“Well,” he gazed lovingly into your eyes as he held you close. “I’m glad you’re awake.”
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rin for ndy? 👀
yah!!!!
uhhhh she’s my sweet child i love her so much and she has such a good heart 🧡🧡🧡 also she’s super cool
Rin met Kakashi when they were kids. Before everything happened, and they were just classmates. She grew up alongside him for the first years of their life until one day, Kakashi disappeared.
She still remembers when she went over to his house, knocked on the door, and found Sakumo looking...just awful. She could tell by the pale, lifeless tone to his skin and his suddenly years-older look that he was stressed. But about what?
She asked as much, and Sakumo only said that Kakashi wouldn’t be able to play today. Rin was disappointed but didn’t want to press, so she left with a goodbye. When she got home, her parents told her that Kakashi had disappeared.
At first, she fret. But after a few months, she was occupied by other things. School, namely, and she joined her first club soccer team the same year. She didn’t forget about Kakashi, but she couldn’t do anything to help, so there was no point in wasting energy worrying much about it until she could.
After a few years, years of watching Sakumo water the plants in his front yard, watching the plants overgrow with weeds, glimpsing Sakumo in the windows of his home across the street, Kakashi returned. She expected to see the weeds disappear, the lights turn on again, Sakumo’s smile.
The plants all died. The curtains closed. The garage creaked when it opened once a week and Sakumo left to buy groceries.
Rin never went over. Maybe she should’ve. Maybe it was better she didn’t. She wasn’t sure, and probably never would be.
Sakumo never came back from a shopping trip, she found out when she walked downstairs to find Kakashi on the couch in the living room, breathing raggedly. Her dad sat next to him, reaching a hand to grasp his own, hoping to ground him. Kakashi wheezed and keeled forward further, and Rin ran the rest of the way down.
Sakumo was gone. Had been for two days. Kakashi was worried, didn’t know how to help. Rin knew the feeling too well.
Kakashi stayed with her that night, under a comforter on the floor. Rin’s dad came in and gave what information he could about Kakashi, which mostly consisted of worries and concerns for his health. Rin understood; Kakashi looked sick, tired, and like he hadn’t slept in days. Maybe he hadn’t.
Kakashi went home the next day. Rin watched from her bedroom window as black vans pulled up in front of the house, marked with a logo that she quickly committed to memory, then researched later because Kakashi never came back.
A government branch focused on military improvements. That was it.
.:.
Rin wasn’t inherently a manipulative person. She believed that one should be genuine whenever they could, and especially when it mattered.
It was this genuine fear for Kakashi that made her pursue a career focused towards strange government militarily branches, and made her manipulate her way in. She was no government agent, but she sure could act like one.
She successfully infiltrated her way in, then soon regretted ever doing so.
She hated to see the failed reports, of kids deemed too weak to continue and evacuated from the area. She had no idea what happened to them.
She hated to see the successful reports, of altercations made to the brain chemistry so that a subject wouldn’t feel pain; would react quicker; was one step closer to a weapon and one step further from a human. (She’d healed patch up too many of those cases to count on both hands.)
She wasn’t supposed to find out about the town, obviously. But she found out about Root, the code name for the town who’s real name nobody might ever know. And she visited once and she found Kakashi, owner of a small store in the center.
He didn’t recognize her, at least at first. It hurt, but she couldn’t blame him.
Then one too-weird interaction later involving invisible wolves and too much blood, Kakashi remembered. He remembered Rin, the experiments, everything.
Rin gave him a journal to write it down in. She wrote a few of her own pages, stuff that she knew, and things that made sure Kakashi wouldn’t forget her again. He didn’t.
She didn’t stay long because she couldn’t, but visited anytime she made a break in any information. The first major one was a new medicine that had been developed to stop hallucinations. She smuggled a box from the lab and brought it to Kakashi.
The second major break was in Sakumo’s disappearance, who Kakashi didn’t remember at first either. But it seemed that the town liked to remind him of things he forgot, because missing posters for his father turned up everywhere after she brought it up.
She hadn’t discovered anything new since she found out that Sakumo was in Danzō’s custody. But she had a feeling she was close, and that she’d be able to visit Kakashi again soon.
#kirpy writes#not dead yet au#she’s just so cool. i love giving her an actual Helping Character rather than just. medical help and. support. sometimes.#i have Opinions ab her in canon that y’all have gotten a glimpse into ok#long post#abusing the :readmore: function omfg#NO WAY THATS SO COOL UGH#i’ve tried looking it up before but there’s literally no good ‘how to use tumblr’ things soooo
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pirate king (15) || atz
Everyone is there.
Literally every member of the crew is gathered at the main deck, from Seonghwa, who’s not cooking the crew’s breakfast for some reason, to San, your master, who you know from experience is notoriously difficult to wake up in the mornings.
You try to catch your master’s eye, but San simply gives a wide yawn and clutches a stuffed toy dog closer to him while blearily rubbing at his eyes. Jongho simply looks like he’s already dozing off, his head repeatedly knocking into Seonghwa’s shoulder as he nods off before the whole cycle continues again.
Yeosang pushes you forward gently, and suddenly, before you, is the captain himself.
He looks the same as the last day you saw him, his presence as commanding as the winds that command the ship, vivid green eye burning with fire and the storms of the sea. His red jacket is just as striking in the sea of white and browns, and once again for some reason you can’t explain, you feel inexplicably drawn to him.
Mingi, his ever faithful quartermaster and bosun, stepped forward, calling for silence. That really wasn’t very difficult, considering it was the crack of dawn and nobody really had the brain capacity be talking much. In under half a minute, everyone has fallen still, the deck seemingly plunged into silence, quietly waiting for the captain to begin.
Captain Hongjoong’s eye doesn’t waver from yours when he starts to speak.
“Members of ATEEZ, crew of the Treasure.” His voice is steady, confident, assertive. There’s something that seems almost ceremonial about the way he’s speaking, as if he’s about to give a grand, well orated speech. You glance back at Yeosang for help, but the navigator’s attention is completely fixed on his captain. “We are all gathered here today for an important reason-”
Then he pauses for a moment and his eye glances through the crowd, doing a mental headcount more rapidly than you can see. “Wait, where’s Wooyoung?”
“Here, captain!” There’s a whoop from above you and you manage to duck just before Wooyoung’s booted feet slam into your skull and turn you into human pancake, he untangles himself expertly from the rigging he’s just swung over from and turns to grin at the disgruntled crowd. “Sorry I’m late!”
Then he ducks into the gathering before Mingi can scold him.
Hongjoong sighs, shaking his head before he continues, tone completely commanding. “As I was saying, we are gathered here today for an important reason. This day, we will have a new crew mate join our ranks.”
There’s silence for a moment. Then someone from the back cries out in surprise.
“Captain, you knocked up a town girl?”
Silence.
A conspiratorial whisper. “A baby’s on the way?”
Immediately the silence of the early morning is broken as the entire gathering of pirates erupt into uncontrollable laughter. To your surprise, you see the captain’s cheeks turn a bright, cherry red, almost as vivid as his jacket, before he’s spluttering incoherently in distress and fury.
There are wolf whistles and cries of ‘I knew you had it in you, captain!’
“I did no such thing!” Hongjoong hollers in red faced rage and embarrassment, but the crew only falls over laughing and guffawing at their captain’s indignant protests. Even Yunho, who was standing behind you, keels over wheezing, clutching at his belly and making sounds that remind you of a dying horse.
“Enough!” Mingi shouts over the din, but he doesn’t get far before he’s pressed a hand over his mouth, shaking with barely restrained chortles. “I’m sorry, captain.”
Hongjoong throws up his hands in resignation and merely decides to wait for his crew to stop laughing at him.
Eventually, the laughter dies down, save for the occasional giggle and snicker here and there. The captain’s face is still flushed pink, but he clears his head and attempts to continue.
“As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” Hongjoong glares at all his crew members, some of who are still chuckling behind their hands, “We are here today to welcome a new member, who is not my unborn and nonexistent child. But before we do that, we are going to name him first.”
Something wells up inside of your chest.
You.
He’s talking about you.
Just as you realise that, the captain turns to you beckoning you forward. Your eyes fly open and you glance behind you, as if there were anyone else on this ship with no name.
“Go on.” Yeosang nudges you with kind smile and you step forward as if in a daze. Hongjoong strides over to you, taking you by the shoulders as his eyes meet yours.
You can’t look away.
“Stowaway.” His voice is soft, wholehearted and genuine, but he has no need to raise his volume. The ship is completely silent except for the creaking of rope in the rigging, the gentle lap of waves against the side of the ship. You could hear a needle drop. “Exactly one moon ago, you literally stowed away on my ship. Mingi and Seonghwa found you in the cargo hold. You broke my quartermaster’s nose, fell unconscious in the middle of a rainstorm from a raging fever and had the audacity to be carried bridal style all the way from the main deck to the sickbay.”
You force down a gulp at his stern tone and Mingi’s shake of the head. The quartermaster’s nose has long come out of its splint, but there’s a little crookedness to it now that you’ve caused.
“I believed you to be a Royal Navy officer due to the coat you were wearing and your terrible story making skills, but you’ve proven to be a trustworthy crew member and apprentice to San.” His voice suddenly takes on a kinder tone. “You’ve saved my crew from the Kraken and survived your first battle on board.”
Tears prick at your eyes but you refuse to let them fall.
“It is an honour to have you as part of my crew.” Hongjoong declares, eye fixed firmly on you. “And now, I’m going to bestow a name upon you, if you don’t mind.”
He looks at you so seriously that you realise he’s actually waiting for permission, not simply asking out of formality.
“Yes.” You manage to choke out, a thickness in your throat that you’ve never felt before. You’re going to have a name. “Yes, of course I don’t mind.”
“Four years ago, we did the same thing for another member of the ship. Today, we’re going to do the same for our stowaway.”
He lays a hand on your shoulder and gestures towards the crowd. To your surprise, your master steps out from the rest of the pirates.
“The last time, we gave the person a new family name of his own.” Hongjoong says, as San rests his hand on your other shoulder. “But this time, San has offered to give you his.”
Your eyes widen to the size of dinner plates and you turn to stare at your master, whose face is unreadable and blank as usual. He merely shrugs at you.
“From this moment on, you have a name.” Hongjoong declares, and suddenly the heavens shake as if on cue, thunder rolling through the sky. “I wish you all the best in recovering your memories, that you may find the truth of your past even though it may seem as unconquerable as the ocean.”
Your eyes fall closed at his sincere, kind hearted words. Tears slip past your tightly shut eyes at your captain’s words, but honestly at this point you don’t care anymore.
“I name you Choi Chin Hae, family of the ATEEZ crew.”
There’s silence all about you for a moment as everyone takes time to process their captain’s words.
The cheer starts off soft at first, a single person whispering it from the crowd. Then it grows in volume until it becomes a resounding echo throughout the harbor.
“Chin Hae! Chin Hae! Chin Hae!”
The words drown out the sounds of your sniffling, and you feel San pull you into a tight embrace, whispering words of congratulations into your ear. Something feels right, an empty hole in your chest has been satiated after million of years.
A sob leaves you, your shoulders trembling as you try to keep it in. From the side, you see Hongjoong with a small smile on his face watching the cheers.
“Thank you so much, captain.” You whisper over the rowdy screams of the crew, who have now somehow managed to turn your name into some bawdy bar song. Somehow, Hongjoong hears you over the din.
“You’re welcome, Chin Hae.” Is all he replies kindly.
“Woohoo!” Wooyoung slings an arm around your shoulder out of nowhere, sending you staggering forward, a massive grin on his face. “Let’s party!”
And seas, do these pirates know how to party.
Because the first place they drag you to celebrate is a rowdy tavern in town.
“Get the alcohol flowing!” Yunho crows as the nine of you sit around a table; the same people who have been the most instrumental in your journey. Your master, San, your kind supporter, Seonghwa. The kind maknae, Jongho, the person’s whose nose you first broke the very day you stepped on board, Mingi. The sweet navigator, Yeosang, the cheerful lookout, Yunho. And of course, the captain himself, Hongjoong.
And the head gunner Wooyoung who’s kind of just tagging along for the free alcohol.
“And get the pretty ladies here, please!” The man laughs, waving cheerfully at one of the waitress. She blows him a kiss in reply.
Yunho turns to Hongjoong with a expectant smile on his lips. “Hongjoongie-hyung…”
The captain immediately shakes his head, a scowl twisting on his face. “No. No no no. You only call me Hongjoong when you want something from me and I always regret it. No way am I acquiescing to any of your stupid requests-”
Wooyoung slides into the seat next to yours, starting to open his mouth, but Hongjoong cuts him off before he can say a word.
“That includes you too, Wooyoung!”
Seonghwa chuckles as he watches the little scene go on. “It is a celebratory drink though.” Yeosang nods agreement as he glances at his captain.
“We are having a celebration, so maybe you could treat us to at least a drink each, Hongjoongie-hyung?”
Yunho and Wooyoung immediately slide behind him, trying to back him up with the full power of their two puppy dog eyes.
You watch with interest as Hongjoong’s stern expression cracks just a little down the middle. Yeosang adds a ‘please’ and you see every ounce of Hongjoong’s good, logical thinking just crash down a drain.
“Whatever.” He sighs, shaking his head and the two mischief makers exchange an exuberant high five.
“Waitress, one cask of the finest alcohol you have!” Wooyoung shouts across the din of the tavern and Hongjoong’s face immediately goes ashen.
“Wooyoung! I said one drink!” He yelps, rising to his feet to cancel the order, but Yunho tackles him back down as Wooyoung goes to fetch the alcohol. The two roll on the ground like a pair of children roughhousing in the mud, except that one is actually the Pirate King of the Caribbean and the other is a deadly ex-gladiator.
“That is technically one drink.” San shrugs as he shakes his head at the commotion.
You turn to him curiously. “Are you going to drink, master?”
The healer sniffs at the wooden cask Wooyoung is lugging back in distaste. “As I said before, I abhor the taste of alcohol, most of all rum. It is a vile drink that can turn even the most respectable of men into complete scoundrels. There’s a reason we use it to kill the disease causing creatures on our skin, you know.”
“San’s just a lightweight.” Wooyoung calls loudly over the noise of Yunho and Hongjoong both fighting to get the upper hand on the floor as he sets the cask down. The healer turns to give him a deadly glare.
Seonghwa winces in sympathy. “Shots fired.”
“What did you say, you little shit?”
Yeosang chuckles a little under his breath, looking at San. “Well, you can’t really take alcohol-”
“Let’s have a drinking game, right now!” You’ve never seen your master so pumped for anything, and you’d never have thought the day you’d see it would be because of alcohol. “We’ll play truth, dare or drink. Let’s see if I’m the one left drunk after this!”
“I’m on!” Wooyoung cracks open the lid, handing out the wooden mugs. “Come on, everyone! Let’s see who’s the last one left standing! Upright, at the least!”
Hongjoong finally clambers back into his seat, blonde hair mussed from the little fight and his eye patch askew. “What did I miss?”
“They’re having a drinking game. Or rather, we’re having a drinking game.” Mingi sighs under his breath, shaking his head at his crew mates as he takes his mug. “I suppose doing this once in a while is fine…”
Wooyoung snatches a glass bottle and places it in the middle of the table. “Let’s get the bottle rolling.”
You frown, a little confused. “What’s going on?”
The other eight glance at each other before Jongho explains. “Every time before they start drinking, they’ll have a game of spin the bottle. If the bottle lands on you, you need to tell a truth, carry out a dare, or just drink an entire tankard.”
Entire tankard? You eye the size of your cup doubtfully, unsure whether you can even finish it before the night ends.
“Since this celebration is in honour of you, Chin Hae, why don’t you spin the bottle?” Yunho calls as he fixes his hair, grabbing his mug. You carefully reach out and spin the bottle.
The glass bottle spins around in circles, a little wobbly, but in the end it finally settles on the captain.
“I hate this game already.” Hongjoong groans, turning to you. “Truth.”
You pause. Is there anything you really want to ask the captain?
Then something occurs to you, all the way back from when you’d first come aboard this ship.
“Captain… when I was sick and fell ill… were you the one who carried me to the sickbay?”
Hongjoong freezes for a moment. Then he fills his mug to the brim and knocks back the whole drink in a single gulp, choking out ‘next’.
It can’t have been more obvious if he’d slapped you in the face with a dead fish.
“But hyung-” San begins to say with a grin on his face, but his captain cuts him off.
“Shut up, San! You can’t say a word about it.”
Wooyoung and Yunho are in fits of laughter, Mingi and Seonghwa shaking heads at their captain’s terrible lying skills. There’s a warmth rising in your chest, a certain happiness. That captain may really have not hated you from the beginning at all.
San shrugs, but there’s a twinkle in his eye. “I mean, captain, when you were naming Chin Hae, you said something about being carried bridal style to the sickbay… I mean, nobody but the person carrying him could have known that, am I right?”
Hongjoong pauses a moment to think over his words. You can literally see the cogs in his head turning as realization dawns on him.
He slams his head into the table in mortification. “And I already drank the stupid drink. Damn, I hate this game.”
Wooyoung pats his captain on his back reassuringly, but there’s not a bit of sympathy on his face. “It’s alright, cap’n. I mean, all of us already knew except for Chin Hae here.”
Hongjoong pins San to his seat with a murderous glare.
“Moving on!” San chirps, suddenly too cheerful in spite of his imminent death looming over him. “Wooyoungie, it’s your turn!”
“Yeah!” The head gunner gets up and spins the bottle, the neck finally coming to rest on Seonghwa. The cook’s eyes widen momentarily. “Seonghwa!”
“Truth.”
Wooyoung frowns as he strains to think of a suitable question. Mingi sighs, sipping from his tankard. “This is stupid. They’re going to end up drunk anyway, honestly.”
“Remember what happened the last time Wooyoung got drunk?” San muses, and Yeosang snorts as he takes a drink.
“Well, I remember you being flat out wasted right next to him and that you woke up on the main deck butt naked because you ran all the way back to the ship from the tavern while throwing off your clothes and singing ‘nothing’s gonna hold me down’, all while Mingi and Seonghwa were trying to chase you down.”
You turn to stare at your master questioning. His face is carefully blank.
“I did no such thing.” He hiccoughs and swallows a mouthful of alcohol. “But I do remember what Wooyoung did. He flirted so hard with someone, fell in love and ran back to tell us he was leaving the crew for good, before he woke up next to a potted plant in his bed.”
You choke on your rum.
“Argh! I can’t think of one right now.” Wooyoung runs his fingers through his hair, shaking his head. “Hyung, tell us your most recent secret!”
Seonghwa’s eyes widen and he glances over at you. You immediately know what he’s thinking about.
To your gratefulness, Seonghwa merely sighs and begins to fill his tankard. Yunho pouts.
“Aww, that’s no fun, hyung!”
The cook merely shakes his head with a serene smile on his face as he returns to his seat. “Our definitions of fun are very different. Yunho, it’s your turn.” The lookout eagerly spins the bottle.
And the bottle lands on you. Their eyes all come to stare at you expectantly.
“Uhh…” You keep your voice shaking from the nerves. “Truth.”
“If you were a woman…” Both you and Seonghwa almost choke, Seonghwa on his drink and you on dry air. “Which of us would you be with?”
You cough at the too accurate statement, but luckily for you, no one realises, all too busy extolling their own qualities.
“It’s going to be me.” Wooyoung insists, patting his biceps fondly. “I mean, look at these guns, baby!”
Mingi snorts as he takes a sip. “Sorry, Wooyoung, but the only guns you have are back on the ship.”
The entire table dissolves in laughter.
“Burn!” Yunho crows, waving his tankard around. You dodge to avoid the alcoholic spray. “But Chin Hae, you still haven’t answered my question!”
You pause to think about this for a moment.
“Well, if I’m honest… It’s probably Master.”
San grins at Wooyoung, who looks like he’s just been struck dumb. Then Wooyoung speaks, his voice thoughtful.
“But technically the two of you have the same surname, so isn’t that like incest?”
There’s silence as everyone glances at each other. You stare at your master in horror.
“And wouldn’t Jongho be like San’s brother or something since he’s a Choi too, so would Jongho be Chin Hae’s brother in law-”
“Okay, let’s drink!” Yunho shouts before the conversation can get any weirder, and everyone happily acquiesces.
Over the course of a few hours, you watch as the tavern turns into complete madness.
Seonghwa, Mingi and Yeosang are drinking quietly and speaking in soft tones, while your captain and master are both singing ‘baby don’t stop’ at the top of their lungs, attempting some terrible dance along the side.
Jongho’s at your side, shaking his head at their shenanigans as he downs tankard after tankard, trying to drown his life problems and Yunho and Wooyoung are long gone, attempting to flirt with anything that even remotely moves or breathes.
And they’ve somehow already started a fire in the kitchen, which the staff have had to desperately put out.
“Hey, Chin Hae.”
You glance up to see the gunner, Wooyoung, standing there. You’ve never really talked to him much, after he abandoned you and Jongho on his little excursion with his lady friends, so you’re a little confused to why he’s speaking to you now.
He looks abnormally serious.
“If this is about why I didn’t choose you for the Truth thing earlier, I’m sorry-”
But he doesn’t even acknowledge your words, pulling you out of the tavern by the hand. You’re confused, but you follow him to one of the back alleys. He stops to rummage in his pockets, before producing something long and slender wrapped in a velvet bag.
“This is for you.” He says, so earnestly that you’re puzzled for a moment, but you take the small gift from him and open it.
A beautiful, silver hairpin slides out from the soft velvet.
A gasp falls from your lips. It must be extraordinarily expensive, the hairpin is made of the finest silver with exquisite, elaborate detailing on the pure metal. At the end is the main piece, a sea flower, its petals wrought with fine silver, a single, well polished aquamarine stone set in the very centre.
“Do you like it?” Wooyoung asks softly, as if afraid you might reject it. You’re stunned beyond comprehension, turning the beautiful piece of jewelry in your hand carefully, afraid that it might break.
“Yes.” You manage to choke out, suddenly a little emotional. No one else has gifted you with such a precious thing before. Then you start to panic. Has he found out that you’re a woman? “Yes… but why?”
“Remember the time you went to town with Jongho and I?” Wooyoung smiles genuinely, his eyes crinkling to little crescent curves. “You were looking at the hairpins like you really wanted one. It’s a pity you can’t wear it now though, your hair is too short.”
“But it must be expensive.” You breathe in disbelief, tracing your finger down the side of the cool metal. Wooyoung shrugs, a cheeky grin on his face.
“The money I bought it with was clean.” You give him a flat stare.
“I’m joking, I’m joking!” He laughs, as you gently slide the pin back into the velvet bag. The you look at him as earnestly as possible and flat out bow to him as deeply as you can.
“Thank you, Wooyoung-hyung.”
“You’ve just gained a name and joined the crew today.” The purple haired gunner’s face is soft in the moonlight, accentuating his handsome features like magic bringing a carved statue to life. “So happy birthday, Chin Hae-ah.”
Happy birthday.
There’s a comfortable silence between the two of you, before the back door to the tavern bursts open and Seonghwa, San and Jongho burst out in a panic.
“Don’t flirt with Chin Hae!” Jongho splutters, but Seonghwa trips on the stair and falls onto the maknae. The two go tumbling to the ground in front of the two of you, much to your shock. San steps proudly on the two of them like some sort of disapproving parent.
“Don’t you dare defile my precious apprentice!” The healer declares, clearly drunk because he’s talking to the potted plant at the side rather than you and Wooyoung. Then he shakes the plant vigorously, dirt and leaves flying everywhere. “You hear me, Wooyoung?”
“Come on, I don’t look that ugly…” The gunner says as he helps Seonghwa and Jongho to their feet. Seonghwa dusts himself off, giving you a concerned look. Your heart brims at their thoughtfulness.
“Are you alright, Chin Hae? This strange man wasn’t bothering you at all?”
Wooyoung shrieks in fury at not being recognised. “I am your crewmate! And I’m not such a lowly person to prey on my own crewmates! I love my pretty ladies, excuse you!”
“Yeah, he was just giving me something.” You reply softly, slipping the pin inside your pocket as Jongho tackles him back into the tavern, lecturing him about irresponsible men and sexual predators. Seonghwa nods, pulling San away from his potted plant even as he struggles to continue threatening Wooyoung.
“If I catch you trying to screw my apprentice over again, the next time you get injured I’m patching you up with fishing hooks and barnacle juice-” He squawks as Seonghwa picks him up gently from the back. “Let me go, you fiend!”
“Why is Wooyoung-hyung being so nice to me, though?” You wonder aloud, as the three of you turn back to the tavern, San slung over Seonghwa’s shoulder like a little kid throwing a tantrum.
Seonghwa turns to where you and Wooyoung had been standing with a sad, wistful smile.
“It’s probably because Wooyoung knows what you’re feeling. He understands, after all.” The cook says quietly, his expression fond and you can feel the brotherly love Seonghwa has for his younger crewmate.
You frown at his words. “Understands what?”
Seonghwa’s smile is heartbreaking.
“What it is like not to have a name.”
#ateez#ateez fanfic#ateez fanfiction#ateez hongjoong#ateez seonghwa#ateez yunho#ateez yeosang#ateez san#ateez mingi#ateez wooyoung#ateez jongho#ateez pirate king#hongjoong#seonghwa#yunho#yeosang#san#mingi#jongho#wooyoung#w; ot8#w; fanfiction#w; pirate king
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