●・○・●・○・●
CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT,
redeem yourself

-

༇ CHISHIYA has never went through something more inconvenient.

Being blinded is one thing.

Stabbing his own wife in the heart is another.

What might possibly be worse is the fact the task was to stab each other in the abdomen at the same time.

Chishiya did not stab Baya in the abdomen.

Which means he'll have to take both knives out of their bodies, and they'll have to stab each other again.

And if this isn't the last task, Baya will somehow have to read the next task, and one of them will have to perform it.

With Baya being unable to move, it will force him to hurt her even more.

"You're wrong," he says. It's the first thing he's able to say after she broke the news of him stabbing her in the heart. "I... didn't stab you in the heart, Yuzuki. It was your stomach. I'm sure of it. And... you know your heart is on your left side, right? Your medical expertise is not good enough to—"

"I w-worked with organs," her voice is so weak that it's nearly impossible to hear. "I... know w-where..."

"Stop talking." Chishiya's breaths heave. "Let me think. Don't move. Keep breathing. Don't close your eyes."

But as much as he tries to think, there is no way out of this.

Either he pulls the knives out and they stab each other again, which will pretty much confirm Baya's death. Or he doesn't do anything and holds her as she dies, then waits for the laser to hit him.

"How deep is the knife in?" He finally asks.

Baya's breaths are mixed with whimpers and desperate gasps. "About three... three..."

"Inches? Centimeters?"

"Inch...es," she gulps.

"Okay. You're still breathing. You haven't lost unconsciousness. How bad is the bleeding?"

"Not... not a lot... actually."

"That's good. That's good. It's not in all too deep. If the knife hit the myocardium, blood will fill the pericardial sac, which slows the bleeding. You have up to an hour," he says, speaking fast. "How long do we have left?"

"Two m-minutes."

"Did the task change?"

"N-no."

"You can't move too much. We don't have a choice. If you want a real chance at surviving this, we need to stab each other again. But... if we pull the knife out, you'll lose more blood. I can do my best to treat it and then I'll carry you back to the hospital and—"

"H-how are you planning to treat it... a-and carry me... if... if you have a nail through your hand... and... and—"

"Shh." His hands find the knife plunged inside her chest. "Slowly grab the knife in my stomach. Make sure you don't move your chest."

It takes a while, but they both manage to get ahold of the knives. Chishiya counts to three, even as his body threatens to give up, and panic rises to the point where he can't breathe.

"Three."

Baya pulls awfully slow. Chishiya can feel the exact way the blade slides out of his stomach, blood flowing out of the wound mercilessly, and when she slides it back in at the second count of three, he gasps. A raw scream escapes from Baya when he also stabs her once again.

"Congratulations. Game cleared."

Chishiya forces himself upright, though the knife in his own ribs tears a groan from him. He wipes his palms on his shirt, then slides them across her sternum. Touch becomes his only compass.

His hands find the scalpel and he positions the blade against her chest. Her body arches beneath his hand as the blade slices between her ribs. He clenches his jaw so hard his teeth ache. Her blood coats his hands, making it harder to keep his grip.

He presses fingers into the wound to spread the ribs, even as the nail drives deeper into his palm. Her ribs crack under the pressure. Her heartbeat is faint against his fingertips.

He jams his other palm flat over the stab wound, pressing down hard enough to make her convulse beneath him.

Chishiya moves ones of his hands to find the bottle of rubbing alcohol. He smashes it onto the ground and uses a shard to carve a tunnel between ribs.

"Stop," Baya pleads, voice cracking and hoarse, sobbing loudly. "It hurts. S-stop. I don't want to. I don't want to. Sh-Shuntarō... I don't—"

A faint hiss of escaping air fills the room: a makeshift way of relieving her lungs of fluids, the same way Sakiko will have to be saved one day.

He now presses both palms against her chest, sealing the wound as best he can with his body weight. As much as it hurts, he manages to rip his jacket off and wrap it around her torso as tightly as he can.

The moment he tries to stand, his knife-wounded ribs seize and his own chest lights up with fire. He grits his teeth and slides an arm under her. The motion pulls at his shoulder and his vision whites out behind the blurriness.

The nail through his palm tears deeper as he adjusts his grip. He uses his good arm to hook beneath her knees and stagger upright.

He counts his steps by the echo of his shoes. Each step is torture. His shoulder howls. His ribs stab him. Blood drips down his hand where the nail sticks through flesh, leaving a trail he can't see. He keeps his face pressed into Baya's hair, listening for the flutter of her breath.

"We're going home. Hospital's close. I'll find it. I promise you," he tells her. "Don't make me watch you die without even seeing your face."

The silence between her breaths grows longer. He moves faster, nearly tripping over his own feet. Blind panic makes him slam into a corner. The impact knocks his shoulder against concrete. He bites back a sound.

He listens. Wind rustles in the trees. He orients by memory. Hospital three blocks south, down two streets, turn left at the vending machines. He counts the steps.

At fifty steps, his knee buckles. He crashes to the ground. The impact makes his palm smashes against asphalt, jarring the nail deeper through torn flesh.

He checks with his bloody fingers for her breath. "Yuzuki?"

"Stop," she begs again. "Let it go. It's... it's been enough. Please. I don't want to die seeing you like this. It hurts, Shuntarō. It hurts so much."

Chishiya stares at her— at least, at the vaguest shape of her that he can see. It's almost like she's glowing compared to their surroundings.

Then, before he can stop it, his body loses strength. He falls again. And no matter how hard he tries, he's unable to push himself back up.

"I'm... sorry," he says between coughs.

"It's o-okay." Baya also coughs, although it sounds more guttural, as if she's throwing up at the same time. "Maybe... maybe it was for the better th-that... that you looked... last time," she whispers.

"Maybe," he whispers back. His unwounded hand finds hers, their blood-slicked fingers intertwining. "Yuzuki."

"Hm?" Even a simple hum seems to take all the energy out of her.

"Think of everything that makes you happy. Kaoru. Hana. Sakiko. Me. Think of our family. Of your life. Think of what we've been through to get here. Think... think of how you'll have grandchildren one day. Think of Koko graduating." He swallows. "Think of anything that increases your will to live. It's the only way."

The tiniest chuckle comes from her. "You think of... of c-cookies. And... your stupid journals. Your c-cups of tea." A desperate gasp for air interrupts. "A-a...and... and your lighters."

"Do you really think I care about those things more than I care about the four of you?"

"I never know with you," Baya murmurs.

They fall silent, listening to the sounds of animals in the woods, and their heavy breaths and gasps. Chishiya can't quite tell the difference between open and closed eyes, but with the way he can feel himself drown deeper into the pavement, he assumes they're closed.

Both of them lose grip on each other. Baya's head lolls to the side. Chishiya twitches a last time before everything fades away.

●・○・●・○・●

He wakes to the smell of fire. Peaceful fire. Like a hearth that's on during Christmas.

When his eyes open, his vision is surprisingly clear. Blurry at the edges, but it's nothing compared to the utter exhaustion he feels, as if he can fall back asleep at any moment. Exhaustion so extreme that he can't even properly panic about Baya.

Maybe because part of him knows about her will to live. Possibly stronger than anyone's. She's been through so much that getting stabbed in the heart doesn't even sound the worst of all.

For once, Chishiya has hope.

By the time he does manage to turn his head, he flexes his hands and notices that the nail is no longer pierced through his palm. It's replaced by a bandage. His shoulder doesn't feel as painful anymore, and his stomach is numb.

"Chishiya." A figure appears above him, dark against the orange of the fire. Chishiya, however, is unable to recognize who it is at first. "How are you feeling?"

"...Yuzuki," he rasps.

"Stable," says the figure. "Sort of."

"Alive?"

"Yes."

His eyes fall closed again.

●・○・●・○・●

The next time Chishiya opens his eyes, the exhaustion isn't crushing him into the mattress. His body still feels like it's made of stone, but it's a stone he can shift, however sluggishly. His lungs ache when he inhales. His ribs give a warning stab. Compared to the agony he remembers, it feels like relief.

The fire is still burning. It's contained in a metal barrel in the corner of the room. Its glow flickers against the walls. The bunker itself is shockingly cozy for what it is.

He tests his limbs. There's a weighty around his shoulder, a thick wrapping around his ribs, and his palm is swaddled in gauze. Someone's kept him alive.

But his attention isn't on himself. Baya lies on another bed, not five steps away. Her skin is pale, her hair damp from either sweat or someone trying to clean her up. Her face is soft in sleep.

Chishiya swings his legs over the side of the bed and nearly collapses from the weakness in them, but he pushes through, dragging himself across the bunker until he reaches her side. He sinks onto the ground and just stares, chin resting on the bed.

After several minutes, he reaches out. His fingere brush against her temple, trailing down through strands of hair that fall against her cheek. He smooths them back.

He leans down, kissing her forehead so light it barely disturbs her sleep. Then another time, against her temple. Then one against her cheek, lingering just a little longer. His hand slips from her hair to her jaw, caressing.

He doesn't know how long he sits there. Minutes? Hours? Days?

It's when an echo carries through the bunker that he notices someone else is here. The hairs on the back of his neck rise. The warmth in his chest dims.

He doesn't move away from Baya. Instead, he straightens slightly, shifting just enough that his body shields hers.

"You're awake sooner than I expected," the figure says from the shadows. "You lost a lot of blood."

"And yet I'm not dead. Which means you've been playing doctor."

"You both would have died in the street."

"What do you want in return?"

A long silence follows.

Slowly, the figure steps forward, and their face is lit up by the fire.

"Hattori," Chishiya states.

"Rest while you can," Kiyoshi says. "The games don't end just because you almost did."

He stares at the young man in front of him. "Why did you help? How?"

Kiyoshi scoffs below his breath. "I'm not the villain."

Chishiya looks back at Baya. "What did you do?"

"Just... used the things you taught me. And things I read in books." He scratches the back of his head, awkward. "I started studying medical things the day we ended up here. When I realized Sakiko, Aguni, Baya, and Arisu would get hurt eventually, I studied specific things. I guess I somehow figured out how to fix Baya's heart. The knife didn't hit a chamber, luckily. I probably didn't do amazing, but it was enough. I'm afraid you'll have to redo it, though." Kiyoshi stares at the ground as if he's ashamed of achieving such plausible things.

"...Thank you," Chishiya says finally.

"It's the least I could do." He shrugs. "I'll leave you to it."

Chishiya turns back to Baya as Kiyoshi retreats to the shadows. Carefully, Chishiya lifts himself onto the bed. His body protests as he lies down next to her.

He slips an arm around her waist, mindful of the bandages, and pulls her gently against him. Her body, even in sleep, curls into his warmth. He buries his face in her hair.

"Oh," Kiyoshi suddenly adds. "I was wondering why a piece of her hair was in your pocket."

"I'm collecting DNA and evidence from every group member. In case something ever happens, I can check whether or not they're a clone," he explains calmly. Then he adds, "I didn't expect you to realize the truth about the car accident."

"I didn't expect nobody else to realize it," Kiyoshi responds. "I thought it was obvious."

"Maybe they do know. Maybe they don't," he murmurs before he turns his full attention on Baya.

Baya's body shifts just then. A groan slips out.

His eyes snap open despite the burning ache behind them. "Yuzuki?"

Her brows twitch together and her lips part. She inhales, the rattle sound alone making his stomach coil.

"Don't move." His hand cups her cheek.

But she does move. Her head moves to the side, her body curls, and her hands claw at nothing. She chokes on a breath as her eyes crack open. The firelight catches in them. They're disoriented, glassy, and unfocused. She squints.

"...Sh...un..." The sound is more breath than word, her throat scorched with dryness.

"Yes. I'm here."

Her hand rises to press against her chest. The motion makes her hiss. Her whole body stiffens in his arms.

"Don't," he warns sharply, catching her wrist before she can apply pressure. "The stitches won't hold if you strain them."

She blinks up at him, before she winces. "Wh... what... why... does it hurt so much?"

"The knife hit near your heart, remember? But you got saved."

"That's... impossible..." Another whimper slips out when she tries to inhale too deeply. Her fingers dig into the bed. Tears spill from the corners of her eyes, partly from the pain, partly from fear. She tries to sit up, but the motion sends a spear of agony ripping through her chest. A cry bursts from her lips.

He presses her down. "Stop. Don't move, Yuzuki."

"Shun...t.."

"You're safe. Just breathe. Stay still."

He can feel her chest rise, then falter. Her nails scratch weakly at him. "It... it burns inside. I- I can't—"

"I know. Your body's fighting to keep up. That's all it is. You're not dying." He hopes his tone is convincing enough, even though he isn't certain. "Yuzuki." He gives her cheek a gentle tap, coaxing her eyes open again. "Stay with me. Look at me."

Her lashes lift weakly. "I-it's so loud," she whispers.

He strokes her hair back. "That's your heartbeat."

"Hurts," she chokes again. She tries to say something else, but it dies in her throat, replaced by another cry.

His hand rubs slow circles against her back, careful of the bandages. "You're safe," he repeats, whispering it over and over, until she becomes still.

Only then does he glance toward Kiyoshi, who lingers in the shadows with guilt written all over him.

"Say it," Chishiya mutters. "You've been holding it in."

"I'm obviously not a surgeon. What I did was messy. It... it kept her alive, but it's not a real repair. You'll have to perform another surgery."

"I figured."

"That knife was close to a chamber wall. Even if the heart muscle didn't tear further, there's a risk of scarring, right? Of rhythm issues. She could develop arrhythmia. If her adrenaline spikes—"

"She could go into arrest," Chishiya finishes for him.

Kiyoshi nods miserably. "Yes. And... infection. I didn't have sterile tools. She'll need proper cleaning, proper stitching, antibiotics. Without that..." He trails off, staring at the fire.

"And the damage she doesn't feel now, she will later."

Kiyoshi looks up at him, hesitant. "You mean long-term?"

"Scar tissue doesn't go away. It stiffens the heart. She could tire and faint easily. She won't be able to keep up with the rest of us if it comes to that."

●・○・●・○・●

Baya stirs again the next day. Chishiya hasn't moved from the bed's edge all night; his body aches from holding himself upright.

"Yuzuki."

She blinks toward him, then frowns when she tries to lift her hand and it barely moves. Pain ripples through her chest yet again.

"Stay still. Moving will make it worse."

"What... happened?"

"You got stabbed, remember?" He repeats, just like last time. "In the heart."

"Oh, yeah..." She nods slowly. "I... I should be dead."

"You nearly were. Kiyoshi tried to repair the damage. He saved you."

"Why does it still feel like... like it's inside me?"

The knife didn't hit a chamber, but it scarred the muscle. Scar tissue doesn't work the way it should. Your heart won't beat as strongly anymore. It could misfire."

Her brows knit. "Misfire?"

"Arrhythmia. If your adrenaline spikes, it could stop altogether. If you push too hard, you could collapse. And there's a high chance of infection."

She stares at him, terrified. "So... I'm broken now."

He says nothing for a moment, only stares back before shakes his head. "You're alive. That's what matters."

"But—" Her voice wavers. "What if I slow you down? What if I can't—"

He cuts her off by gripping her jaw lightly, forcing her to look at him. "Don't say that. I'll decide what slows me down." He moves her head back against the pillow. "I'll handle the rest. You just stay alive for me. Understand?"

Tears slip from the corners of her eyes. She nods once. "How... how long has it been since?"

Chishiya turns his head to look at Kiyoshi. "How long?"

"Four days since I brought you here. You both slept for a long time."

"What?" Baya's voice becomes high-pitched. "We need to go to the group. They must... b-be so worried—"

"Yuzuki. Rest. Stop talking."

"Mikasa..." she murmurs. "And Koko—" Her eyes snap open at that. "At least let me try to get up."

Chishiya considers this. Normally, his patients are walking again one or two days after their surgery. It's been four, and even with messy stitches, she's healing. Sort of.

"Fine," he sighs.

She's already bracing her palms on the mattress, trying to swing her legs off the edge. The movement alone makes her grunt. Her breath hitches. She plants her feet on the floor. For a second, she's upright, but her skin goes deathly pale.

Pain radiates through her ribcage and her heart pounds so painfully that it makes her gasp. Her legs buckle.

Chishiya catches her before she crashes to the ground. He lowers her back onto the bed.

Baya shakes her head desperately. "No, I- I need to walk, Shuntarō. Please. I can't stay weak. If I don't move, I'll—" Her words break into a sob when another spasm wracks her chest. She grips the fabric of his shirt so tight her knuckles whiten.

"You're tearing yourself apart. Your heart isn't ready to work like that. Do you understand? If you force it, it'll give out. And then no one can fix it."

The fight drains out of her. Slowly, she nods, tears sliding down her temples into her hair.

He smooths damp strands from her face. "You'll walk again. But not today."

Baya sniffles. "Can we at least go back to the hospital?"

"No. This is the perfect place to rest. It's too crowded at the hospital and moving there is enough to worsen your situation."

●・○・●・○・●

Three days later, the bunker smells of something warm. Kiyoshi has made a kind of stew from whatever they scavenged: canned vegetables, bits of meat, and herbs.

Baya sits propped against pillows. She's awake more now, not drifting endlessly in and out.

Chishiya sits nearby, his posture deceptively casual even though his eyes lift from the page every other minute to check her.

"You're both lucky I'm around," Kiyoshi says as he puts the food in three bowls. "If it was just you, Chishiya, she'd be surviving on stubbornness only," he teases.

Chishiya lowers his book. "She'd survive longer on stubbornness than your cooking."

Baya laughs softly. "Be nice. He saved us."

"Temporary salvation," Chishiya mutters, but he takes the offered bowl anyway.

Kiyoshi settles on the floor with his own. The three of them eat. Baya feels incredibly weak, but she manages. She even finishes most of it.

"Kiyoshi," Baya starts. "Thank you for saving us. I don't think we would've made it without you," she says. "I will never be able to fully... look at you the same again, but I can't hate you. You can't join our group again, but most of us still really, really appreciate the good things you did. You're not the bad guy." When she sets the empty bowl aside, she looks determined. "I want to try standing," she says.

"Yuzuki."

She shakes her head. "Just standing. Please. I can't lie here forever."

"Slow," Chishiya decides.

Kiyoshi sets his bowl aside and hurries to her side. Chishiya moves to her other side. They help her feet touch the floor. She grips the bed frame with one hand, Kiyoshi's arm with the other, and she pushes herself upright.

A wobbly smile breaks across her face. She holds herself there for several long moments before sitting back down. "See? Not so bad."

She even manages to sit on the edge of the bed for a while, conversing with them about Mikasa's baby. Her laughter sounds more alive than it has in days.

But after ten minutes, a strange pallor creeps back into her face. Her pupils dilate oddly. Her words fade away mid-sentence. She presses her hand to her chest, then she slumps sideways.

Chishiya catches her just in time. Her body is frighteningly limp in his arms.

"Pulse?" Chishiya demands.

Kiyoshi presses fingers against her throat. "It's... it's there, but it's weak."

Chishiya presses his ear near her mouth. Her heart moves in a rhythm that makes his blood run cold. "This is what I warned you about. Her heart isn't strong enough yet," he mumbles.

"So what do we do?"

"She rests," he says. "If she fights us on it again, we'll tie her to the bed."

Kiyoshi glances at him, uncertain if he's joking. Chishiya's face is unreadable as always.

He sits down on a stool beside the bed, one elbow resting on his knee, fingers against his lips. His eyes are fixed on her chest, watching the faint rise and fall.

Kiyoshi hovers near him. Eventually, he asks the question that's been gnawing at him.

"Is she... dying?"

Chishiya's silence stretches until Kiyoshi almost regrets asking.

"Yes," he says at last.

Kiyoshi flinches. "You mean if she doesn't rest, she could—"

"I mean no matter what we do, she will."

"But the surgery... it worked enough to save her. Her pulse is still there, her breathing—"

"It's failing," Chishiya cuts in. "The repair you made bought her time, but... the tissue will never heal properly. Her heart can't keep up."

Kiyoshi swallows, his throat tight. "How long does she have?"

"I don't know. Weeks, maybe. Months, if she rests and avoids strain. But... not years. Not even if we got her into a real hospital."

"She doesn't know yet, does she?"

"No. And she doesn't need to. What would she do with the knowledge except collapse sooner?"

Kiyoshi looks stricken. "So you'll keep it from her."

"If you tell her, you'll make her fight her own body until it kills her faster. She needs hope to rest."

Kiyoshi's leg bounces restlessly. "You make it sound like there's no chance at all."

"There isn't. Torn muscle doesn't knit itself back together. You bought her time, but you didn't undo the damage. Neither can I."

"But there has to be something. You're not just some random guy, you're Chishiya. You're a surgeon! Don't sit there and tell me you're giving up on her."

Chishiya's eyes sharpen. "Do you think this is about giving up?"

"Yes!" Kiyoshi snaps. "Because you're acting like her death is inevitable. But it's not, unless you let it be. There has to be something you haven't tried. Something you haven't thought of yet. There could be something that can help us. We just haven't seen it yet."

"You're clinging to hope because you're young enough to still believe the Borderland plays fair."

"I'm clinging to hope," Kiyoshi says fiercely, "because she's alive right now. She can survive this. But only if you stop sitting here waiting for her heart to fail and start looking for a way to keep it going."

"What do you think would happen if I cut someone open in this bunker, Kiyoshi? If I ripped their heart out with scavenged tools? Do you think she'd thank me while her chest cavity rots from infection?"

"So you'd rather do nothing?"

"I'd rather not kill her faster," Chishiya says coldly.

Kiyoshi runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands. "You don't get it. If you do nothing, she dies anyway. So what's the difference between risking everything and just... waiting?"

Chishiya's gaze slides back to Baya, watching the tremor in her chest as she exhales. "The difference," he says quietly, "is that if I do nothing, she has days. Maybe weeks. Time to breathe. To sleep. To laugh, even if it's only once.."

"And what if you're wrong? What if you're so afraid of losing her that you don't even try to save her?"

Chishiya doesn't answer. He just stares at Baya.

The younger man presses harder. "You're the only one who could figure out how. If there's a chance, you have to take it. Don't you owe her that?"

His breath catches so softly it could almost be missed. "Her heart won't last. That's a fact. But... you were right about one thing: this world bends rules. It gives us outcomes that would be impossible outside. Which means if I can't repair her body with what exists in medicine... I'll have to do it with what exists in the Borderlands."

Kiyoshi straightens. "What are you saying?"

"We need something that replaces what her heart can't do anymore. Something to keep blood moving when her own muscle fails."

He frowns. "Like... a machine? But where would we get—"

"A game," Chishiya interrupts. "We've seen collars that monitor pulses. Devices that detonate if you lie. Technology that shouldn't exist. If the Borderlands can create all that, then somewhere, there will be a game with an object designed to track, control, or sustain a heartbeat."

"...And you'd use it on her."

"Exactly," Chishiya says. "Find it. Win it. Strip it from the game and turn it into a crutch for her heart. If it can monitor, it can stabilize. If it can stabilize, it can replace. Even temporarily."

Kiyoshi's mouth parts in awe. The idea sounds insane, and yet, insane in a way that fits this world. "But that means... we'd have to deliberately seek out one of those games. We don't know what card it'd be, or where, or how dangerous."

A ghost of a smile touches Chishiya's lips. "I don't think that will be a problem."

"But say we find it. Say we win it. How would you even... apply it?"

"That," Chishiya admits, "is where medicine comes back in. I can improvise a bypass. If I can get it to sync with the rhythm of her remaining heartbeat, it won't matter if her heart fails completely—it'll still push blood. Artificial circulation. Kaoru and Ann can help us with that. It's like giving her a second heart."

"So we start looking for a game with a device like that."

"Yes. Yuzuki has enough days on her visa. Unless the Game Makers decide to play around and invite her to a game, she'll be remotely safe. You and I will be playing games to find her a heart."

"Can't it just be me?" Kiyoshi asks. "You're hurt—"

"So are you."

"Not as badly as you. Let me do it, Chishiya. You should take care of Baya and the group. It's not like... like I have anything better to do."

"Okay," Chishiya decides easily. "That should work."

"But I'm wondering... what if there isn't a game like that?"

"Then we make one."

"Make...?"

"The Borderlands thrive on desperation. We'll be given what we need, because that's what it does. It tailors pain to the player. If Yuzuki's survival is my burden, then the Borderlands will design a game that tests it."

Kiyoshi presses his lips together, thoughtful. "Hotoke— Hotoke is a Joker. She doesn't know about this bunker. I can act like I'm joining her side. It might give me access to the right game."

"No. Too risky. She has many people on her side. Chances are high she does know we're here. She and the Red Joker are the ones who designed the game in the first place. She knows it will be a miracle if Yuzuki survives."

"She wants me on her side, Chishiya. She's desperate."

Chishiya stands, crossing his arms even as his shoulder and stomach protest. "Her main goal is to make our group fall apart, isn't it?"

"Yes. She wants Kaoru. And... the linchpin. But I have no clue who it is."

"Clearly, it's someone from our group. Her desperation to ruin us makes that clear."

"Kaoru? Or Suzume?"

"Neither," Chishiya states. "Even though she's been isolating Kaoru, she doesn't actively try to make him like her. Kaoru told me about how she thinks mental illnesses are fake— saying things like that won't make him like her. It's not Kaoru, nor Suzume."

"Then who?"

"You."

Kiyoshi freezes. "What...?"

"She didn't hesitate to track you down after we sent you away. She didn't kill you alongside Nanaka and Renji. You only got stabbed because you tried to save them."

"But the same happened to Elikai. She only broke her hand. Suzume didn't get hurt at all."

"True, but I just have a hard time believing it's Suzume. You and Elikai are the only options."

"What about Shirabi?"

"No. They stabbed him worse than they stabbed you. Why would they stab you in your side but Shirabi in the stomach?" Chishiya shakes his head. "It's not Shirabi. He hasn't lost anything, not really."

"He..." Kiyoshi lowers his head to the ground. "He cared about Nozomi," he murmurs.

"Yeah, but you killed Nozomi, not the Game Makers," Chishiya responds, maybe too harsh. "It has nothing to do with the linchpin. It's either you or Elikai. Elikai only has Kaoru left. They specifically killed Renji and Nanaka. It was a coincidence that Shoma also died."

Kiyoshi sinks to the floor, burying his head in his hands. "I ran out of the door that day, too," he whispers.

"What?"

"We were with eleven. We were supposed to be with ten. Shoma and I ran out of the room at the same time. I happened to be closer to Shirabi, so that's why he pulled me back and kicked Shoma out." Kiyoshi takes a shuddering breath. "If I had died that day, Nozomi would s—"

"If you had died that day, Shirabi, Elikai, Yuzuki, and I would be dead," Chishiya says firmly. "Sometimes, you make mistakes that override everything good you've ever done. But there will be people left who'll appreciate the good things."

Kiyoshi scoffs. "You sound heartless for someone who watched Nozomi grow up."

"I watched you grow up, too. I watched Shoma, Renji, and Nanaka grow up. How long I've known somebody doesn't decide how much I care."

"You didn't care about Nozomi?"

"I did," he says. "And I'm sad about it. But it happened how it happened. It's been a while. You are redeeming yourself. I liked Nozomi, but dragging my own grief out is unnecessary. I am prepared— I know people are dying and will be dying."

"Do you really think I can redeem myself?" He asks quietly.

"No one will ever truly forgive you, Kiyoshi, but that doesn't mean they have to hate you for the rest of their lives."

"And... and you're actually prepared for when people from the group die? You genuinely know people will die?"

"Yes. And I know who these people are. It's inevitable."

"Why? You can't predict the future. You don't know what will happen to who."

"I know some people are reckless. Some are too selfless. They'll get themselves killed someday." Chishiya doesn't elaborate much. He looks at Baya again. "Go play a game tomorrow. We'll try to return to the hospital. Send me an update everyday. And make sure nobody else from our group knows."

●・○・●・○・●

🂱 A/N: Alright guys I'm doing my best to make the chapters less "messy" by focusing on specific people each time instead of jumping from person to person

So basically, the previous chapters have been about Baya and Chishiya, and once they return to the hospital, the POV will slowly jump to Hana and Kaede, and then it will slowly transfer to Kaoru and Suzume, etc.

Other than that I have nothing important to say I guess, so have a good day!!