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CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE,
surgeon hands

-

༇ "IT seems pretty obvious to me which one of the three options we're going to choose," Hana says, pointing at Hotoke's letter in her hands. "Unless somebody votes otherwise?"

"We should vote," Shirabi insists.

"I think you have no say in this. Technically, only my parents, Kaede, and Kaoru do. They're the only ones directly involved."

"Everyone else dies if they don't make a decision. We do have a say in this," he protests.

"Well, go ahead, then. Would you rather my parents play a game, that Kaede dies, or that Kaoru goes back to Hotoke?"

"Realistically, Kaoru going back is the safest option. Hotoke won't kill him."

Hana gapes at him.

"What? Chishiya and Baya are both injured. You can't expect them to play a game, and we're obviously not going to kill Kaede. Am I really that weird for saying Kaoru should go back?"

Suzume scoffs. "If Kaoru goes back, then you're going to be the one playing a game every night to make sure we'll be back in the real world faster. He doesn't deserve to be there another second."

"Let's vote," Hana decides. "One by one, place a vote next to your desired option."

"Everyone gets to vote?"

"No. Arisu not in the right state to do that. Sakiko, I'm sorry, but you're too young. And Mom is still recovering, so she's asleep."

"I don't think Kiyoshi should be allowed to vote," Aguni says. "I don't even understand why we're suddenly allowing him to stay."

"Because he's the father of the baby, Aguni. And because he's hurt. We can't leave him behind. He's done good things, too," Hana argues. "Everyone but Arisu, Sakiko, and Mom gets to vote. Go write it down."

BAYA & CHISHIYA: IIIII IIIII
KAEDE: I
KAORU:  III

"Well," Shirabi sighs. "Doesn't matter if only the involved ones or all of us vote. Still has the same outcome."

Hana stares at Kaede. "Seriously? You're so... so irritating."

His face reddens. He shrugs. "It seemed alright to me."

"Yes. Of course. Killing you is the best option." She rolls her eyes. "Most votes go to my parents playing a game. You have another five days left to do it before Hotoke attacks," she tells Chishiya, because Baya is still recovering in a bed. "Okay?"

"Okay," he says, nodding.

The room gradually empties. Aguni lingers longest, glaring at Kiyoshi, but even he eventually leaves.

Kaede stands uncertainly beside Hana, avoiding everyone's gaze, especially hers. Her mind keeps replaying Kaede's 'It seemed alright to me' again and again.

"You," she starts, her voice sharp enough to make him flinch. "Why do you always do that?"

"Do what?"

"You always volunteer yourself to die, or to get hurt, or... whatever. Do you want me to lose my mind?"

He nods quickly, almost desperately, his blush deepening. "I get it. I... I'll be better. I just don't always know how else to help. And I don't want Kaoru to go back to Hotoke, or your parents to play a game."

"You help just by being here." She tugs him down until he sits beside her. Her forehead rests against his shoulder. "It's okay to protect others, but it shouldn't cost you your life, especially not when there are other options."

His hand brushes her knee. He nods. "Okay," he murmurs, breath catching when Hana leans in and presses her lips against his. His eyes flutter shut. The tension in his shoulders melts away. Her fingers find the back of his neck, curling into his hair as his hand slides hesitantly to her waist.

"Promise me."

"I promise."

Hana's lips betray her and curve into a smile. "I can't stay angry at you. You're too sweet."

He also smiles. "That's my trick."

"Oh, right. You're secretly super mean and it's all an act." She hits his shoulder. "You've been acting since you were born."

"Exactly." Kaede presses another quick peck to her cheek before he walks over to Mitsuki's cage. "Did you know I brought her here? Do you want to hold her?"

"I'd much rather hold Mikasa's baby," Hana replies.

"Ohh, can we do that?" He seems enlightened by the idea, as if he hadn't thought of it yet. "I'm scared to ask her, though."

"You're scared to ask if you can hold her baby?"

"Yeah. I want to hold her all the time, but I don't want to be greedy. It's not my baby."

"Mikasa won't say no."

Kaede looks doubtful. "What if she thinks I'm weird for wanting to hold her baby again? We've already—"

"You bathed her with me last week. You nearly cried one time while holding. I think Mikasa knows you're obsessed already."

Kaede flushes. "I didn't nearly cry."

"You definitely did." Hana grins, tugging him toward waiting room. "Come on."

They find Mikasa on a couch, her baby nestled in her arms.

"Hey, there. Is she awake?"

"Barely. She fusses and then falls right back asleep."

Kaede hovers in the doorway, suddenly awkward. Hana elbows him. He clears his throat. "Um... would it be okay if... if we held her for a little while?"

"Of course. She likes being passed around. It's good for her. Support her head."

Hana watches as Mikasa places the baby into Kaede's arms. The baby's face scrunches before relaxing.

"She's gained weight. Do you notice it?" Mikasa asks. "She was smaller when she was born."

Kaede nods and gently sits down. "I can feel it."

"Do you know what you'll name her yet?" Hana asks.

"Not yet. I don't even want to think about it in here. Only in the real world."

"I think they also performed a C-section on you in the real world," Hana says. "Since you were in such pain here and Suzume was forced to do it, I think the doctors also had to do it in the real world."

Mikasa smiles. "Sounds logical." There are faint shadows beneath her eyes as she smiles. She sighs. "Would you two..." She trails off, hesitant. "Would you stay with her tonight? Just one night. I haven't slept more than an hour or two at a time since she was born. If you could keep her close and wake me if she really needs feeding..."

Kaede looks up quickly. "Us?"

"Yes. You've both cared for her already. I trust you."

"Yes," he blurts out, too fast. The baby makes a noise at the sudden volume. He immediately lowers his voice, sheepish. "Yes, of course. We'll do it."

"We'd love to, Mikasa. You should rest. You've done more than anyone."

Relief flickers across her tired face. "Thank you. Don't be afraid to bring her to me if you're unsure about anything. She'll cry when she's hungry."

With that, she rises and disappears into her bedroom, leaving Hana and Kaede alone.

"I've never felt so important," Kaede says.

Hana chuckles. "Yeah, I can see that." She leans her head on his shoulder once again, staring down at the baby. "We'll have children one day, right?"

"Definitely." His grin is crooked and cheesy. "How many?"

"Mhm... I don't know. One is sad. I couldn't imagine growing up without siblings."

"Nozomi did," Kaede murmurs.

"But she had us! We were basically her siblings." She does her best to sound excited, but every word that follows hurts more and more. "And I don't think Kaoru will have any kids. Neither will Shirabi. And we probably won't be neighbors with Elikai, Mikasa and Kiyoshi, or whoever else wants kids here."

"So we have to get at least two of our own."

"Exactly!" She says, excited now.

"When?"

"After marriage."

"Well, when will we marry?"

"As soon as possible," Hana decides firmly. "I can already see my dress and a proper ring," she teases.

"Okay, okay. The second we wake up, I'm going to propose. You'll open your eyes and boom, I'm there." Kaede snickers. "What about a house?"

"I have no money." She sighs. "And houses are expensive in Tokyo. Speaking of money, I have to pay Dad like... a hundred million yen. Or was it thirty million yen? I don't even remember! Anyway, I have to do that first. And then get a degree. And then get a job. And then find a house. How are we even going to pay for a wedding?!"

"I have money," Kaede says brightly. But then he frowns. "Um... some money. I've been saving but it's surely not enough to pay your dad back, have a wedding, and find a house."

Hana scowls. "Luckily it's not your task to pay my dad back. So don't you dare."

"Maybe he'll forget about it after this. Maybe he'll forgive you. Maybe he doesn't want the money back anymore because of the trauma we all got."

"Right! He has enough money anyway. How much do you even get paid for your jobs?"

"I fought from age twelve to nineteen and when you left, I fought multiple times, nearly everyday, so I think about... twenty million in those seven years? And by giving martial arts classes to kids, I get about two thousand an hour? I want to become a teacher at Budo University. That would give me about three thousand an hour, but there are a lot of rich kids there, so if I can give one-on-one classes, I'd get paid a lot more."

"I think Mom would force Dad to help pay for our wedding. And a wedding isn't even that important, right? I'd much rather just live with you, have steady jobs, get kids, and then marry."

"What would you want to study?"

"Maybe I'll go back to trying to become a teacher. Or maybe have my own shop. That sounds nice to me. But also... difficult."

"You can make it happen," he says confidently. "What kind of shop?"

"Maybe a bakery or a coffee shop." Hana shrugs. "I'd make enough if it's in the center of Tokyo, right?"

"Exactly. But if we want cheaper houses, it's better to move away from Tokyo."

"Maybe we should just manipulate my father." Hana chuckles. "He has too much money."

"Pff. He spends it all on jewelry for your mom. She did not stop bragging after she received a necklace that cost, like, two hundred million yen."

"It's only convenient. Mom sees as much value in a necklace that costs a hundred yen. She just likes looking at fancy stores and Dad conveniently has enough money."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Do you like expensive jewelry?"

"I mean, I wouldn't complain if I had it, but I wouldn't even see the difference between fake or real diamonds." She looks at Kaede with a teasing smile on her lips. "Wow. You don't know my jewelry preferences?"

"I do!" He insists.

"Let's hear it."

"You like unique jewelry, but it doesn't necessarily have to be outstanding. I mean, the way you dress says it all. Quite unique but not that people look at you like they've never seen those clothes before, you know?"

She smiles. "Ding ding, a thousand points. You... hm, if I were to get a ring for you, I'd get something a little less masculine than most rings for males. Maybe bands with the tiniest pendant, you know?"

"Ding ding, a thousand points," Kaede repeats. They both lean into each other, laughing.

●・○・●・○・●

"I knew he wasn't a virgin."

"Mhm."

"Like, four months ago, I was talking to Hana, and I was telling her that there was no way Kiyoshi was a virgin. Turns out he has a kid. That's more than I've done— dude, stop looking at me like that."

Reo raises an eyebrow at Shirabi's scowl. "Like what?"

"You know how. Stop biting your lip. I'll rip it off. And stop smiling. I fucking hate you, you know that?"

"Oh, yes. You hate me so much, Yoshiro."

"Stop it," Shirabi hisses. "Seriously. Do you need a collar? I can get you one. I'll tie up you just where Hotoke can find you and kill you."

"What if I'm into that?"

Shirabi's scowl intensifies. No matter what he says, he can't get under Reo's skin. Instead, he's getting under his own skin.

"Have you figured it out yet?"

"Figured what out?" He snarls.

"Whether you're going to stay in the closet or not."

"I have no closet to come out of. It was simply an experiment that I very obviously regret."

"Right. The closet is actually a glass box."

"Wipe that smirk off your face," Shirabi mutters.

"Why?" Reo tilts his head. "You never stop staring when I do."

"I don't stare."

"You stare a lot."

"I don't—" Shirabi cuts himself off, realizing he's walked into another one of Reo's traps. "You're unbearable."

"You'll figure it out eventually."

"There's nothing to figure out," Shirabi snaps.

"You look like you're trying not to admit you want something."

"What the hell would I want from you?"

"Oh, I don't know." Reo's tone is infuriatingly casual as he moves a little closer. "Maybe the same thing you wanted when you dragged me in by my shirt."

Shirabi's pulse spikes at the memory. He hates the part of him that had liked it. "That was a mistake," he mutters.

Reo grins wider. "Then let's make another one."

"Reo."

"Mhm?"

"Back off."

He leans even closer, close enough that his breath fans against Shirabi's ear. "Afraid you'll like it again?"

Heat crawls up his neck. He's furious with himself for letting Reo get to him.

"I like you, Shirabi. Not just messing with you. I actually... like you. And you can spit in my face, or hit me, or keep calling it a sin, but that won't change the fact. So what are you going to do with it?"

"You're full of shit."

"At least I admit it, unlike some people."

Shirabi wants to snap at him, but Reo doesn't give him the chance. He slips effortlessly into another topic.

"You ever think about what you'd be doing if you weren't stuck here? Like, if you could actually go home tomorrow and pick your life back up?"

"Why?"

"Because I think about it all the time," Reo admits. "I picture myself back in the real world, you know? Trying to get my shit together. I'd probably mess it up, but... I don't know. Feels nice to imagine."

"You wouldn't last a week. You don't have the discipline."

Reo laughs. "You see? That's why I like talking to you. You never sugarcoat it. Everyone else would be like, 'Oh, Reo, you'd be fine, don't be so hard on yourself.' But you? Straight to the jugular. I respect that."

"I wasn't trying to be nice."

"You never are. That's what makes it nice."

"You lack structure. You'd burn out and crawl back to whatever gutter you came from."

"And you wouldn't?"

"No."

"Mhm. Well, anyway. Back home I was working construction. I came home every night sore as hell, covered in sweat and dust, but I kind of liked it."

"Breaking your back for scraps? That's what you liked?"

"I liked waking up before sunrise, putting my body through hell, then crashing into bed. You should've seen me back then. Sweaty, shirt off, swinging hammers all day."

"You're making this up."

Reo shakes his head. "Not a word of it."

"You think bragging makes you look impressive?"

"You don't look like you think I'm pathetic." Reo's fingers trail lower down Shirabi's neck now. "Sometimes I miss those nights the most. Coming home, showering, and lying in bed with every muscle sore. You ever had that?"

"Maybe," he says gruffly.

"Bet you've had different aches, though. The kind that makes you pray?"

That last word is a knife, sliding right under Shirabi's ribs. He glares at him.

"Don't worry," Reo whispers. "I won't tell anyone what you pray about."

His face darkens, eyes becoming sharper.

"Anyway," Reo says brightly. "That's my life story. What about you? Or is it all a big holy secret?"

"Boxer, truck driver, club guard."

"Damn, a triple package! Why so many?"

"Because I'm poor, asshole."

"Damn. So mean for what? You're really projecting."

"I'm not mean."

"You kind of are, though."

"That's just because you're in my life now."

"Is it?" Reo hums. "Or is it... that someone else left the moment I came into it?"

Shirabi's whole body tenses up. His teeth grit together. "Sorry?"

"That girl. Think you and her had something going on, right?"

"She was twenty-two. Call her a woman," Shirabi snaps. It might be the first thing he's ever said that doesn't sound remotely misogynistic.

"Sorry, sorry." Reo lifts his hands. "But you had something going on, am I right? Her name—"

"Do never let her name come out of your filthy mouth."

"Why are you acting like I'm the one who killed her?"

"At least if you hadn't shown up with a pregnant woman I'd have time to go back and join the game with her instead of him. At least if you weren't so ignorant—"

"It's my fault she's dead because you and Chishiya helped Mikasa, Daishin, and I? Trust me, she and Kiyoshi had already left for hours. He took his time burying her and all, yeah? You wouldn't have made it back in time, ever."

Shirabi's shoulder slump. "I never even told her."

"Told her what? I've heard snippets. Friends with benefits, right?" Reo's eyes squint. "Or are you admitting you actually liked her?"

"Obviously I liked her. As a friend. And... I did care. Too much."

"So you liked her romantically."

He runs a hand down his face. "I don't even know how to say it. I liked her, yeah, more than I should have. More than I knew I was allowed to."

"Allowed? Who decides what you're allowed to feel?"

"Me."

"Why wouldn't you allow yourself to like a woman?"

"Because... she obviously didn't want a relationship. And because I was afraid I'd take away her spark."

Reo's frowns. "Take it how?"

"She was unique. The way she dressed, the way she talked— all whimsical and stuff. Like, a gazillion rings on her fingers and who knows how many layers of colorful clothes. And she was very passionate about what she believed in. And... I'm passionate about what I believe in. It didn't match."

"You believed in different things?"

"Sort of. Nozomi was independent. She was strong and believed in equal rights, you know? Things like that. And I... do my best not to be 'traditional', either, but it's hard. It's all I ever grew up with. When I was a teenager, I got over it. A little bit. I decided not be as openly unfair towards people who were a little different. But the ideas never truly left my mind. I was afraid I'd somehow pass it onto Nozomi. That if we'd ever live together, I'd make a foolish remark about her, or that I'd somehow drag her into my old beliefs."

"But if that hadn't been the case, would you have admitted your true feelings?"

"Maybe. I don't know." Shirabi sighs. "Love is hard. I can't imagine myself being around the same person for over a decade, except for Kaede. Kaede is just... Kaede. And I have no choice but take of my mom. Other than that, I'd tell people goodbye in ten years."

"No. It's not that Kaede is just Kaede. It's just that you haven't found the right people. If you truly love someone, you won't tell them bye in ten years."

Shirabi shrugs. Sighs again. "I guess."

"So... work with me. Do your best to make you and others want to stay. Not just me. Anyone. Be a little more considerate for others."

"I guess."

Reo tilts his head. "You'd let Sakiko go in ten years?"

"She'd be twenty-one by then. Independent. So yes, I probably would."

"And how would that make her feel?"

"I don't know. I don't think she'll keep contacting me forever."

"Why not?"

"It won't be the same. She's a child now. She looks at me differently now."

"You don't think she'd want to tell you everything about what happens when she's a teenager? You don't think you'd want to be there when she graduates?"

Shirabi smiles a little to himself. "I'll stand by the sidelines and watch."

"That's all?"

"Yeah. That's all. She doesn't need me forever. Kids grow up. They get tired of you. They start seeing you as old and irrelevant. I don't need to force myself into her future."

"That's not true," Reo says. "You think she'll stop needing you just because she turns twenty-one? She'll need you in different ways."

"She won't," Shirabi insists. "She'll find other people who are better. People who actually share her world, instead of dragging her back to mine. I wasn't raised to be some supportive role model. I do my best. I keep her alive. I listen. But she'll need more. I don't want her to look at me in ten years and hate what she sees."

"I think she'll hate you if you leave."

"Leaving's easier. She'll move on."

"Move on?" Reo scoffs. "She's what, eleven? Twelve? She adores you. She talks about you every chance she gets. If you tell her someday, 'Bye, I don't want to be in your life anymore,' she's not just going to move on."

"That's better than clinging to me and then breaking when I mess it up. At least if I draw the line, she'll know when to stop caring."

"You're planning her heartbreak in advance? That's nasty."

"Better for her to be strong without me than dependent on me and heartbroken later. That's all I'm saying."

"Do you even hear yourself?"

Shirabi meets his eyes. "I can't be next to her forever."

Reo shakes his head slowly. He doesn't get the chance to respond, though, because there is a tiny intake of breath near the door.

They turn their heads.

Sakiko stands there, clutching the frame with one hand. Her eyes are wide and glassy. "You... you're going to say goodbye? You don't... you don't want me?"

"Shit," Reo murmurs. He barely dares to glance at Shirabi.

Tears spill over. She turns and bolts down the hall before either of them can move. She stumbles into the nearest room, slams the door shut, and curls up against the wall.

"I don't want him to go," she chokes out to nobody. "I don't want him to go, I don't want him to go." Her cries echo in the room, louder because she can't contain them.

The door handle rattles. "LC."

"Go away!" she sobs. "I hate you!"

He opens the door.

"Why?" she wails. "Why would you leave me? I didn't do anything wrong! Why don't you want me anymore?"

"It's not about you, Sakiko." His voice is harsher than he means it to be. "You'll grow up. You'll be fine without me. You don't need me forever."

"I do!" she screams. "I need you always! You're my best friend! You just want to throw me away because I'm not good enough!"

He strides forward, kneels down hard enough that his knees ache, and grabs her shoulders. "Don't you ever say that again. You're not disposable. You're everything, Sakiko."

"Then why... why would you leave me?"

"I don't want you to look at me one day and hate me. It's easier if—"

"No!" she yells, cutting him off. Her small fists clutch his shirt with surprising strength. "I'd rather hate you for staying than hate you for leaving! At least then you'd still be here! I'll never stop needing you, even if you want me to. I don't care what you think."

Shirabi's arms wrap around her. "You don't get it," he murmurs into her hair. The weight of it all crashes in at once. Nozomi's laugh and her rings and the way she looked at him without fear. The night with Reo. The shame that followed. And now Sakiko, sobbing in his arms because he was cruel enough to make her believe she wasn't wanted.

"I can't..." His voice breaks open. He grips her tighter. "I can't do this. I can't carry all of this."

Sakiko pulls back just enough to look up at him. "Do what?"

"Be... good enough. For you. For anyone. I fail at everything I touch. Nozomi's gone, Reo—" he bites his lip. "And you... I'll ruin you too. That's what I do."

"No. That's not true. You didn't ruin me. You saved me. Every day. You're all I need."

He squeezes his eyes shut, but tears force their way out anyway, sliding down his cheeks. "I don't know how to be me without hurting someone. I liked Nozomi. I cared. And I couldn't tell her because I was afraid. And Reo, he sees too much. He won't stop. He knows things I don't want him to know. Things I can't... shouldn't—"

"I don't care what you think you are. You're my best friend. And if you try to leave me, I'll follow you. You'll never get rid of me."

"I don't deserve you," he murmurs. "I don't deserve any of you. Not you, not Nozomi, not Kaede."

"I don't care if you think you deserve me."

He can't hold back anymore. He buries his face against her shoulder, sobbing.

●・○・●・○・●

Five days into the break and Baya cannot escape him somehow.

She wakes up by faint cries in the distant and can't exactly tell if they're Sakiko's or the babies. Everything still feels a bit sluggish and hazy, even though she's gotten better. At least, no more fever.

"You okay?" Aguni asks, hanging above her.

Baya nods with a small wince. "Yeah," she murmurs, turning her head. A plate of fruit is displayed on her nightstand. Watermelon, mango, apple, and pineapple. All her favorites.

Her mood piques. She sits up, propping her pillow behind her. "Is that for me?"

"Yeah."

She takes the plate onto her lap and begins eating with her bare hands, ignoring the way juices spill down her hands and towards her sleeves. "Mhm. This is the best thing I've ever had."

Aguni chuckles a bit. "Be careful or you'll choke."

"Want some?" She holds the plate towards him.

"No, thank you."

"Oh, thank gosh! I was afraid you'd say yes." Baya sighs in delight and pops another piece of watermelon into her mouth. "Where'd you get fresh fruit? It all rots in a day! And all my favorites, too."

"I don't know. You'd have to ask, um, someone else."

Baya's hand freezes on a piece of mango. "Why?"

"I didn't bring it here."

"You didn't? Oh. Ann must've been growing some fruits, then—"

"Yuzuki," Aguni says dryly.

"Yeah?"

"You know who I mean with 'someone else'."

"...Ah." Baya slowly puts the mango down and goes for a slice of apple instead, except she now eats slower. "I knew it was cut too neatly for you to have done it," she mumbles. "He always cuts everything so... so infuriatingly beautiful."

"Surgeon hands," Aguni reminds her. "Can probably embroider a flower onto a beating heart while his fingers are blood slick."

"Maybe he was kind enough to do that to my heart," she jokes, although her voice doesn't contain much humor.

"You miss him?"

"No!" Now she's high-pitched. "I want to... to... steal his books! I want to cut his hair! I want to... apply makeup in his sleep!"

"None of those are real threats."

Baya sighs. "Fine. I do miss him. A little bit. But it's only been five days. I have to stay strong. It's just so boring here. I'm sitting in bed all day, doing nothing. What's he doing?"

"Should I really tell you that?" Aguni pretends to be thoughtful. "I thought you were having a break."

"Stop being funny, Aguni." She scowls.

"Fine, fine. He's glaring at Kaede half of the time because his snake almost strangled him. I guess he's been talking to Kaoru and Suzume. There's weird tension between him and Hana. Other than that, he's reading. And... growing fruits, I guess."

"Hana and him haven't really had a normal conversation ever since she returned from Australia," Baya murmurs. "It's tense, indeed. Of course they love each other, but Hana must feel attacked because he's wary of Kaede, and he must feel weird about not seeing his daughter for six years. I admit, I feel like I don't always know Hana as well as I thought I did."

Aguni nods. "That's understandable. Now stop talking about him and eat."

"But it reminds me of him!"

Kuina, who'd been sitting in a corner, pulls a face so crazy that Baya frowns.

"What?" She asks.

"It... reminds you of him?" Kuina asks, horrified.

"Obviously. He cut the fruit. Why wouldn't it remind me of him?"

"Ohhh." Kuina sighs out of relief. "Never mind."

Baya stills. "What did you think I meant?"

Kuina's eyes linger of the pineapple juice dripping down Baya's fingers. "Nothing," she says cheerfully. "Don't worry."

Baya shrugs and continues eating. Once the plate is empty, she reaches to give it to Aguni, until she spots a laminated note lying on the bottom.

"Oh, gosh! I can't touch it. Read it to me, please!" She somewhat throws the plate at Aguni, eyes squished shut. "I'm scared."

Aguni clears his throat and reads dryly: "Dear Yuzuki. Today, they voted and decided that we should join a game together. I did some research on the arenas and found one that should be alright, although I can't say that with certainty. The arena looks untouched, which at least means that no players have died playing the game. I did look for the distance game, but couldn't find it and remembered it has nothing to do with distance and it would just force us to sit in a bus for two hours. Sorry. Will you be okay with playing the game tonight? Love, Shuntarō."

"I knew they'd vote on us playing a game!" Baya yelps. "This is a catastrophe! You're all manipulative and trying to force us into this proximity—"

"We'd have to kill Kaede or send Kaoru to Hotoke if we didn't vote for that, remember?"

"Oh. Never mind." Baya smiles. "That was the note?"

"No." Aguni begins reading again: "PS. The fruit comes from your allotment. I knew you'd forget the date the fruit would be ripe."

"Right." Baya scratches her head. "I did forget I had an allotment. He's so sweet—"

"He drugged you without your permission and then tried to guilt trip you," Kuina cuts her off.

Baya's smile fades. "Oh, yes. He did. He's so mean. But I guess I'll join the game with him tonight."

●・○・●・○・●

It's awkwardly silent as they make their way through the dark city. Chishiya walks a few steps behind Baya, who's in a wheelchair. She used violence to get the right to wheel herself, instead of Chishiya wheeling her.

"Thanks for the fruit," she mutters eventually. She can't help it.

"You're welcome," he replied, monotone.

They continue their journey towards the game arena. In the distance, they hear sounds of gunshots and the usual game sounds— happy chimes, explosions, and who knows what else.

"It's here." Chishiya stops in front of a building.

"Isn't that the university Kaoru went to?"

He nods. "Yes."

Baya wheels towards the entrance, where a small set of stairs lead up to the gigantic doors. She lifts grabs the railing—

"Here, let me." Chishiya wraps his arms around her, mindful of her chest, and carries her onto the stairs. It has always surprised Baya how capable he is of carrying her. He makes it look easy. Then again, she's shorter than him and especially after spending so many days in the Borderlands, she doesn't have much meat on her bones.

"I hate you," she whispers.

"I know," he whispers.

"I said I'd wheel myself."

"I know."

Frustrated, she leans her head on his shoulder. "I really, really hate you."

"I know," he whispers again.

The massive university doors creak open under Chishiya's hand. Dust hangs in the air, disturbed only by their slow progress inside. Baya wheels herself forward again. Her lips are pursed in concentration, though her eyes keep darting to Chishiya.

She clears her throat. "Don't think you get extra points for carrying me, by the way. That wasn't romantic. That was... condescending."

"I wasn't aiming for points," he replies. "I was aiming for efficiency. You would've wasted time trying to drag yourself up those stairs."

"Drag myself?" she repeats. "Do you think so little of me?"

"I think realistically. And you hate me, remember?"

"Yes, I do. I hate you more than pineapple juice dripping down my fingers, and you know how much I hate that."

His lips twitch so subtle it would've gone unnoticed if she wasn't watching him like a hawk.

"You're smiling," she accuses.

"I'm not."

"You are!"

"I'm really not."

"You are. And don't you dare tell me otherwise, because I know your faces. You've got eight expressions, and I've memorized all of them."

"Eight," he repeats. "That many?"

"Don't mock me." She narrows her eyes. "I even know your fake smile. The one you give to strangers. It's all in your eyes. You don't crinkle them enough when you're faking it." She grips her wheels harder and pushes herself faster down the hall, trying to get away from that aura of his. But Chishiya matches her pace effortlessly, hands buried in his pockets. "Stop following me," she mutters.

"We're literally going to the same place."

"Well, stop... walking like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you think you're better than me!"

"You're imagining things."

She groans and slams the brakes on her chair. The squeal echoes off the marble walls. She whips her head to glare at him. "I hate this break."

He blinks. "You asked for it."

"Well, I hate it!" she bursts out. "I hate pretending not to care when you cut fruit into perfect little cubes because you know I'll notice. I hate pretending I don't look forward to your notes, or that I don't sleep better when you're in the room. I hate pretending you don't make everything a little less terrible."

He crouches down in front of her chair, until they're eye level. "You're not supposed to admit things on a break," he says quietly.

"Then maybe I'm bad at breaks," she shoots back.

"Maybe you are."

Baya looks away. "I still hate you," she mutters.

"I know," he whispers again.

His gaze wavers. She sees the way his throat bobs when he swallows, and the way his hands flex once before he tucks them back into his pockets.

"Stop staring at me like that," she snaps.

"Like what?"

"You're annoying," she mutters, wheeling past him.

"And you're contradictory."

"Don't use big words at me right now."

"They're not big words."

"They are," she hisses, throwing him a glare over her shoulder. "You're just—"

"Smarter?"

Her mouth opens, ready to yell, but then she catches the faintest twitch of amusement at the corner of his lips. He's baiting her. He's enjoying this. "You're smug."

"I know."

"I really, really hate you."

"I know."

The repetition grates on her. "You think you're clever, don't you?"

"I know."

"Argh!" She throws her head back. "You're going to make me lose my mind."

He crouches again. "Then don't take breaks with me."

Her heart stutters. His face is only a breath away. She wants to shove him, or wants to kiss him, or wants to do anything that will stop this tug inside her.

"Anyway!" She points at a door in the distance. "That door says the game is there."

"That door says the Gamme Lab."

"Oh." Baya turns her head to another door. "What does that say?"

"Reception."

"Then where do we go?"

"We're already in the waiting room. Look." Chishiya grabs two phones from the table displayed behind him and hands one to her. After it has scanned her face, it says the game will start in ten seconds.

"If I die— wait, no. I'm not doing a stupid confession if you're not doing a confession."

"At the same time?" He suggests.

She nods. "One, two, three."

"If I die, know I ate your cookies."
"If I die, know I'm glad you're alive."

"I didn't hear what you said because I said it too loudly." Baya's brows furrow. "What did you say?"

"Nothing you have to concern yourself with—"

There's the familiar chime of the game starting. However, the instructions don't follow. It's mist that does.

●・○・●・○・●

Baya wakes up in a lab that has an eerie yellow glow to it. Next to her, she finds a table. A simple pair of pliers is on it. In front of her, she sees a jar. It's filled with a weird-smelling liquid and a side cutter.

When she tries to move, she realizes her shoulders are stuck to the wall, as well as her legs. She's able to lift her arm up to inches away from the jar.

Across from her, Chishiya is also stuck to a wall. The same is displayed right next to hers. And once Baya moves her head, she realizes the familiar Jack of Hearts collar is wrapped around it.

"The game will now commence. Difficulty: Three of Yellow Joker. Rules: Take the side cutter out of your designated jar and cut the wire of your headset before five minutes pass. If a player is unable to succeed, their collar will explode. The game... starts."

Baya's first instinct is panic. "Five minutes?" She peeps. "Shuntarō—"

"Take your plier and use it to grab the cutter out of the jar. Make sure you don't touch the liquid. It's toxic. Will probably kill your nerves if it makes contact with your skin."

"Okay," she whispers. She watches how Chishiya gets to work with his own jar.

Carefully, Baya extends her arm to the table and plucks the pliers from it. Then she reaches for the jar. As if it was calculated, she can reach the side cutter if she angles the pliers just right.

However, it's difficult to angle them that way, and she knows it'll be game over if she accidentally knocks the jar off.

She adjusts the pliers in her hands. They're already becoming sweaty and slippery. "It's okay," she whispers to herself. "You don't even have to be smart. You don't even have to be in good shape for this. That's all you've ever wished for. A game that you're good at."

"Yellow Joker stands for luck," Chishiya says. He's about to reach the side cutter with his pliers, but the slip from his grip, and he has to start over. "So don't get manipulated by the idea that you're not skilled enough. It's all about luck."

"You have surgeon hands," she argues. "You can't talk. Your hands are steady."

"Then calm down and make sure yours are also steady."

Baya decides to stop arguing and just readjusts her grip on the pliers again. Another minute passes before she has angled them right. She extends her arm as far as she can, straining it, and tries to pluck the side cutter out.

Her slippery fingers get the best of her and drop the pliers into the jar. Quickly, she grabs it again. "Shit," Baya peeps. She glances at Chishiya. The same happens to him, but he tries again, and a second later, he has grabbed the side cutter.

He still holds the side cutter with his pliers as he wipes the toxic liquid off. Then finally, he wraps his fingers around the cutter and snaps the wire from his headset.

It's hot in the room. Boiling hot, as if the temperature rises by the second. Beads of sweat drip down Baya's forehead— and also down Chishiya's hand, because he accidentally drops his pliers and side cutters.

Baya gets more and more stressed. Taking a deep breath, she pushes the pliers into the jar. They touch the side cutter, but it's not enough. She can't clamp them.

"Chishiya," she peeps. "I can't focus."

"Listen to my voice. It's okay. You have time left. You can do it, Yuzuki," he says steadily. "Grip the pliers tightly. Readjust them if you need."

Baya nods. She pulls her hand away from the jar and uses her other hand to hold the pliers so she can wipe the sweat off her dominant hand.

Just as she's about to hand it back to her dominant hand, a drop of sweat trickles down onto the floor, alongside the pliers.

Baya's entire body freezes. She hears the thud of the pliers hitting the floor. The finality in knowing she'll never reach the side cutter. Horrified, she stares at the jar, then at Chishiya.

"Use your pliers to grab my—"

"I dropped my pliers," he says.

She freezes again. "Oh. That's... that's fine. I can still make it. I'll just use my hand." But when she reaches for the jar, she can't even dip her fingers inside it— the pliers had been there not to save them from the toxic liquid, but to help them even reach the cutter.

Chishiya also extends his hand. However, his arm is also not long enough to reach inside the jar.

Baya leans back. Closes her eyes. "Wow. After all these games, it's a three that kills me," she murmurs.

"No," Chishiya protests.

"Yes," she says. Her eyes snap back open. "What am I supposed to do to fix this, huh? We have no more pliers. We can't reach the jar. We have, like, a minute left."

Chishiya stares at the ground. He inspects the podium that her jar is standing on. It's a large block of wood. The floor is also made of wood. The plank on Baya's side is crooked, which means he can't kick the podium towards her, because it would hit the crooked plank and the jar would tip.

The floor on his side, however, is smooth.

"Yuzuki," he says. "You should be able to reach the podium with your foot. Gently shove it towards me."

"But how—"

"Don't ask. Do it. Right now."

Baya's foot shakes as she lifts it and connects it with the podium, slowly pushing it towards him. She pushes until her foot no longer touches the podium.

In games, her mind often goes blank. All that repeats in her mind is 'just listen to Shuntarō'. Her mind is doing that right now.

Until it catches up with what his plan is.

Chishiya extends his left hand first, but since he's not directly across from Baya, her podium has a deviation to the left, or rather, his right. It's too far away to reach with is left hand.

And so, as Baya begins protesting and yelling in the background, he dips his right hand into the jar, fumbles for a moment, and grabs the side cutter.

His jaw clenches. Every muscle in his hand spasms and convulses. A wince escapes him, followed by a groan. He does his best to clean the side cutter with his clothes. Then he puts it back on the podium and gently pushes it towards Baya.

She grabs the side cutter, tears streaming down her face, and cuts her collar.

Chishiya exhales in relief before his hand spasms again. Getting shot, getting stabbed, getting electrocuted— nothing would have prepared him for this kind of pain. He throws his head back, biting his lip because he's sure he'd scream if he didn't.

His hand doesn't feel like his own. It keeps on spasming and spasming. His fingers crunch and stretch. His knuckles move. Chishiya's breaths heave. He bites his lip even harder. It leads to the taste of blood in his mouth.

Baya's sobbing. She has caught up with what this sacrifice really means.

"Congratulations. Game cleared."

And so they win another game.

And so they're both in pain again, mental and physical.

And so Chishiya has sacrificed himself for Baya yet again.

Or rather, his passion.

Because Shuntarō Chishiya will never be able to perform another surgery again.