●・○・●・○・●
CHAPTER SEVENTY
a sauna

—

༇ HER skull feels cracked open. Her eyes are swollen, her throat dry. Every joint in her body throbs.

Beside her, Chishiya groans faintly.

"I hate alcohol," Baya whispers.

They lay still in mutual suffering.

He presses the heel of his hand to his eyes. "Let's never talk about this again."

"Deal."

They shake hands without looking at each other.

●・○・●・○・●

Chishiya enters the dining hall two minutes before Baya, alone, sunglasses perched on his face to hide the hungover mess. He scans the room quickly and sees Arisu sitting at one of the long tables with a plate of eggs, trying to look occupied.

Their eyes meet.

Arisu freezes mid-bite, his fork hovering near his mouth. Chishiya looks away instantly and makes his way to the coffee pot.

Arisu clears his throat and raises a hand in a weird wave. "Morning."

"Mm." Chishiya doesn't look at him. He takes a seat across from Arisu anyway. There's a long pause.

Arisu stares at his eggs like he's hoping they'll speak first. Eventually, he mutters, "So... uh..."

Chishiya takes a violent sip of coffee.

"Last night was... fun?"

"If you say so."

Arisu coughs into his hand. "I think I blacked out after... the thing. I don't remember what thing, though."

"Same."

"Cool. Coolcoolcool."

Another pause.

Then, too loudly: "I didn't cry."

"I didn't say I'd die to make anyone laugh."

"I never said anything about proposals."

"I don't want to be paired up in a game with you."

They both sip their drinks in unison, not looking at each other. Arisu almost misses his mouth.

Then Baya slides into the seat beside Chishiya. She has wet hair and sunglasses even bigger than Chishiya's.

"Good morning, fragile boys." She grabs a banana and peels it. "Can you feel the taste of each other's lips lingering on your mouths?"

Arisu chokes on his eggs. "We didn't kiss."

Chishiya downs his entire cup of coffee like it's another shot.

Usagi joins them seconds later, pecking Arisu on the cheek. "How's your head?"

"Fine," he repeats, stiffly.

All of them adjust their sunglasses.

●・○・●・○・●

Footman lets them leave with a lazy wave. "Don't go too far. You're not technically off-duty. And don't get a hangover again."

Chishiya doesn't even nod in reply, just slips his hands into the pockets of his jacket and starts walking. Baya, shuffles after him with the sunglasses still perched on her nose and a large bottle of water.

"Hey," she chirps, jogging a few steps to catch up. "Aimless or walking with purpose?"

"Both the same thing," Chishiya says dryly.

She bumps into his shoulder. "You sound grumpy."

"I am grumpy. I have a headache. You pretty much scream when you yawn."

"It's a breathing condition."

"It's a you-condition."

They walk in silence for a while. The outside air is brisk and fresh. Trees rustle gently. The sky is pale and a wind cuts around the Shoreline's building.

Baya sighs dramatically and throws her arms out. "Okay, but this is nice, right? Like, no gunfire. No blood. Just a hangover. And... birds."

"I hate birds."

"You don't hate birds."

"They're disloyal and flighty."

"Are we talking about birds or people now?"

He ignores her. She keeps talking. Rambling about nothing. A weird dream she had. The way the building smells like lemon cleaner and mold. A new scar she found on her elbow that she swears wasn't there yesterday. Chishiya says nothing, but he keeps listening.

They stop eventually in a patch of grass near the woods.

And then Baya gasps. "Ohmygoshlook."

She points.

Chishiya follows her gaze, and sure enough, there's a rabbit—no, a hare. Small, brown, sitting perfectly still a few feet away near a bush. Its ears twitch once.

Baya is already crouching down, her voice overly soft. "Look at him. He's just a baby. Hi, little guy..."

Chishiya stays right where he is. "It's a wild animal. Don't."

"I'm good with animals."

"It's going to bite you."

"It won't bite me."

"It's going to bite you specifically."

She inches forward, holding out a hand. "Come on, sweet baby. I'm friendly. Look, I'm not scary. You're so cute!"

The hare blinks. Then it hops closer. One foot. Two feet.

Baya beams. "See? He knows. He knows."

Chishiya mutters, "I'll start preparing the first aid now."

The hare sniffs the air. Baya stretches out her hand even further. Her fingers are a few centimeters away from soft, trembling fur.

And then the little bastard lunges and clamps down on her hand.

"Ow! What the—" She jerks back, falling on her butt, hand cradled against her chest. The hare bounces away into the trees like nothing happened.

"He bit me! Chishiya, he bit! The hare bit me!"

Chishiya sighs, walks over, and crouches beside her, already pulling out whatever he carries in those pockets. "I told you, but no. You think you're Snow White."

"I was kind to him," she pouts. "I called him sweet!"

Chishiya takes her wrist and inspects the wound. "He didn't appreciate the infantilization."

Her hand is already swelling slightly. There are definite teeth marks. She winces as he dabs antiseptic on it.

"This is the worst betrayal I've ever suffered," she whispers.

"Then I guess I'm the kindest traitor in the world," Chishiya replies.

She sniffs, dramatic as ever. "I liked him. I loved him! For a moment, I saw our future. I was gonna name him Cinnamon."

Chishiya actually chuckles at that. Low and short, but real.

She blinks at him. "Wait. Did you just laugh?"

"Must be the wind."

"You laughed. That was a laugh."

"You're concussed from the bite." He finishes wrapping her hand and stands up, brushing dirt off his pants.

Baya stays sitting on the grass. "He could've been our pet! I trusted him, Chishiya."

"That's your problem."

He offers her a hand. She takes it with a sigh and lets him pull her up, swaying a little on her feet.

"Chishiya?"

"Hm."

"When we get out of here—"

He sighs audibly. "You're not getting a rabbit."

"I didn't even finish—!"

"You want a rabbit. A white one. With a pink nose and some tragic backstory like it was abandoned in the rain."

Her jaw drops. "How did you know exactly what I was going to say?"

"Because you're predictable," he mutters.

She runs to catch up. "I want to name him Cinnamon Two. He'll wear sweaters. We'll get him one of those leash harnesses so I can walk him through the park."

He glares her. "No."

"But—"

"No."

"Just a small one! Quietly. And it won't bite. I'll train it."

He keeps walking.

"I'll keep it in the garden! You won't even notice it's there!"

"I'll notice."

"I'll litter train it."

"It'll chew through your mattress and ruin your power supply."

"I'll teach it tricks. How to sit. How to stay. How to not be a jerk like Shuntarō Chishiya."

He gives her a look. "You're begging for a parasite."

"I'm begging for joy."

"You'll kill it by accident."

"Wow," she gulps, scandalized. "That's so mean. Why would I do that?"

"Because you're clumsy, loud, and you love too much."

She narrows her eyes. "Loving too much isn't a crime."

"It is if you smother the thing to death."

"I would not!" She stomps ahead of him, arms crossed. "Cinnamon Two would love me. He'll eat cucumbers and cuddle me when I'm sad."

"No."

"He'll sleep at the foot of the bed!"

"Absolutely not."

"You're gonna love him."

"I already hate him."

She ignores him. "You'll be grumpy about it for the first three days. Then you'll melt. Secretly. You'll think I'm asleep, but I'll see you petting him and smiling. He'll be your emotional support bunny!"

"I already have one." He flicks her forehead.

"That's abuse."

"That's deserved."

"I'll tell the rabbit what you did to me."

"Please do. Maybe he'll bite you again."

She pouts for a moment, then hums thoughtfully. "Do you think rabbits hold grudges?"

"They do if they know you."

"Unbelievable," she mutters. "All I want is a peaceful future with one small, white, cute animal. Is that too much to ask?"

"Yes."

"When we get out, I'm getting Cinnamon Two. Just watch. You'll come home and he'll already be there."

"I'll send him to a shelter."

"She'll be the daughter you never wanted!"

"And I still don't want her."

Baya swings their joined hands wildly now. "Does that mean you've never thought about kids?"

"Never."

"I'm just saying," she starts, "our kid would be so cute."

He doesn't even glance at her. "What kid."

"Our hypothetical baby. The one you're going to give me eventually."

"There will be no baby."

"Oh, there will. You'll blink one day and I'll be waddling past you like, 'Oops! Look what you did.'"

"That's not how biology works."

She waves him off. "Don't be boring. Just picture it... tiny little fingers, big round eyes, your frown on a tiny face."

Chishiya lets out a long sigh. "Why would I willingly create something that cries, poops, and interrupts my sleep?"

"Because it would also fall asleep on your chest and wear those cute pajamas with clouds on them!"

"No."

"But—"

"No."

"Okay, but what if it had my nose and your eyes?"

"No."

"Look, when I was younger, I wanted four," she continues. "Four whole babies. Two girls, two boys. Or three girls and one boy. I didn't care. I wanted a big house full of love and yelling and food stains."

"One would be too many."

"One is perfect," she insists. "I can do one. Just one! I'll name them something adorable."

"No."

She spins in place. "I want to be a mom someday. I want to raise something. Teach it how to walk and yell at boys."

He sighs. "You'd forget it at the grocery store."

"I would not! You wound me."

He turns to her. "We are literally running for our lives in a world where ninety percent of the population has been murdered in some playing card-themed death game, and this is what you're thinking about?"

She smiles brightly. "Hope keeps me alive."

He stares at her.

She stares back.

"I will not raise a child named Cinnamon Three."

Baya squeals so loudly that three birds fly out of a tree. "I knew it! You're caving! I win!"

"I didn't say yes."

"You said not-Cinnamon. That's a negotiation. That's a start."

He resumes walking without her, muttering under his breath.

She skips after him, grabbing his sleeve. "You're gonna be such a good dad."

"I'm leaving."

"You'll cry at the birth."

"I will not."

"You'll hold their hand and whisper weird things about life and lungs."

"I won't."

"You'll braid their hair—"

"Stop talking."

"You're smiling again."

"I'm grimacing."

"It's the same on your face."

He yanks his hood up. She stabs her finger into his side.

"Okay, but seriously," she begins, softer now, "what do you genuinely think?"

"I have never thought about it and it's not something I can imagine in three seconds."

Baya stays silent for about fifteen seconds.

"What about now? Have you thought about it?" She asks.

He exhales once again, and finally announces: "If we survive this place, I'll consider getting you a rabbit."

Baya gasps, eyes wide. "Really?!"

"I said consider."

"Which is basically a yes."

"It's not."

"Chishiya." She jumps in place. "We're gonna have a bunny!"

"But no kids."

"For now."

He glares.

She loops her arms around his and leans her head against his shoulder. "I made up my mind."

"You've decided that having kids and bunnies is the worst idea ever?"

"No!" Baya yelps, offended. "You know how I refuse to call anyone by their first name?"

Chishiya closes his eyes.

"Right?" She adds.

"Yes, right. I know," he sighs.

"I've decided I will start calling people by their first name once I marry them, or get kids with them, or... I feel really bad for begging them for this and say 'Sorry, Shuntarō' and never talk about kids again."

"What?" he says flatly.

"You heard me."

"If I give you a child, or marry you, or if you beg too hard and then regret it... then you'll call me Shuntarō?"

"Exactly."

"Terrifying."

"And I mean it," Baya beams, swinging their arms again. Then gently, she adds, "I bet a lot of your patients were kids. And... you were good with Kota, right?"

"That's different. Those kids were already past the age of at least eight, and didn't have half of my genes."

She shrugs. "I genuinely think you'd make a great dad. Just so you know."

Two pings echo through the peaceful silence. Baya's heart drops. Chishiya comes to a halt as he takes his phone out. Baya doesn't even dare to touch it.

"It's a game, isn't it?" She whispers. "I hate these visas! Why is there no proper system?"

"There probably is a proper system, we just haven't figured it out yet." Chishiya's eyes flicker over the screen before he shows it to Baya.

WHITE JOKER
required participants: 2

"Two?" She pales. "That is either very good or very bad... what's the location?"

He taps the map, where a line tells them where to go. "Looks like some kind of spa."

"And I'm guessing it's anything but relaxing." Baya lets go of a deep breath. "Well, let's go, then." 

●・○・●・○・●

The two of them are standing in a room. Next to it, there's a sauna. By the looks of the damp door, it's burning hot inside.

It seems to be a game where the White Joker isn't involved. It differs. According to others, they did have to go against Jokers, but Baya has never played against one directly before. She guesses Jokers will only show up when it's their color's last game—when all the other nine difficulties have been beaten.

"Welcome," the instructor starts talking through the speakers. "White joker. Difficulty: four. Rules: This game involves two rounds. One of you will take place in the sauna while the other one answers questions. Only when the player answers twenty questions correctly, their partner is allowed to leave the sauna. With every wrong answer, the temperature inside the sauna will rise."

"Oh," Baya says, surprised. "I think we'll nail that."

"There is a second round," Chishiya responds.

"...Right."

"In the second round, you will switch places. This time, the sauna is no longer hot, but ice cold. The same rules apply. With each wrong answer, the temperature drops. After twenty correct questions, your partner is allowed to leave the sauna. You have two minutes to decide who does what. Keep in mind that the sauna is soundproof and the glass is tinted. Neither of you will be able to ask the other for help with the questions."

"Your body temperature is colder than mine," Chishiya says. "You should take the hot sauna. I'll take the cold one."

Baya nods firmly. "Okay." 

She enters the sauna first, careful to slip her jacket off before she goes inside. A last small smile and encouraging nod at Chishiya, then she closes the blinded door. Heat consumes her immediately, the air so thick that she already has trouble breathing.

Yet, very calmly, she sits down, making sure to breath evenly. She can't see Chishiya, nor any hint of how far he is into the questions or how many degrees the sauna currently is.

So she waits.

●・○・●・○・●

By the time the door opens, Baya's panting. Her entire face is red, whole body covered in sweat, and she feels overwhelmed. Chishiya hurries to get her some air, leading her out of the sauna. "Are you okay?"

She nods, breathless. "Were the questions hard? How many did you guess wrong?"

"It's bait. The first few are very simple. They become harder and harder. The last question was the most difficult. It took me five different questions to get it right." He tucks a piece of his hair behind his ear. "But you can do this, alright? Just stay calm. Don't think about the temperature of my room. Just focus."

"Okay," Baya peeps. "I will. Here." She grabs her jacket and hands it to him. "Keep yourself warm. I'll do my best."

"Good luck."

Chishiya steps inside the sauna. Frost has already crept its way up the glass. Baya has no idea how much the temperature will drop with each incorrect question, nor does she know how long a human body can last in a frozen environment.

A soft beep from the speakers overhead signals the first question.

"Question one: What is the capital of France?"

"Paris."

"Question two: What is the boiling point of water in Celsius?"

"One hundred degrees."

"Question three: What is the square root of eighty-one?"

"Nine."

Another beep.

"Correct."

"Question four: How many continents are there?"

"Seven."

Baya's breath catches slightly as she waits for the next question.

"Question five: Who painted the Starry Night?"

"Van Gogh."

"Question six: What is the chemical formula for water?"

"H2O."

The confirmation beep rings out. She presses her fingers to her lips, focusing.

"Question seven: How many seconds are in a minute?"

"Sixty."

She answers the question without thinking. Her eyes flicker to the door, imagining Chishiya freezing inside. She can't imagine— focus.

"Question eight: What is the largest planet in our solar system?"

"Jupiter."

"Question nine: Who wrote The Odyssey?"

"Homer."

Baya breathes out, her body still tense, more sweat beginning to dot her forehead. The cold air in the room is almost comforting, but the pressure of the questions is starting to pile up.

"Question ten: What is the capital of Canada?"

"Ottawa."

"Question eleven: What is the smallest prime number?"

"Two."

"Question twelve: What is the name of the longest river in the world?"

"Nile."

"Question thirteen: Who is known as the father of modern physics?"

"Einstein."

"Question fourteen: What year did the Titanic sink?"

"1912."

"Question fifteen: What is the chemical symbol for gold?"

"Au."

"Question sixteen: What is the largest desert in the world?"

"Sahara."

"Question seventeen: Who was the first man to walk on the moon?"

"Neil Armstrong."

"Question eighteen: What is the currency of Japan?"

"Yen."

"Question nineteen: What is the chemical formula for methane?"

"CH4."

"Question twenty: What is the fastest known animal on Earth, in terms of speed relative to body size?"

"...A cheetah?"

"Incorrect. What is the longest-running scientific experiment in history that has been continuously running for over eighty years?"

Her mouth opens, but no sound comes out. "I don't know."

"What is the name of the smallest known planet?"

"Mercury?"

"Incorrect. What is the name of the paradox that describes the apparent contradiction that occurs when an infinite sequence of decisions can lead to a situation where you can never reach the end?"

"What?" She stammers, panicked. "The... the Liar Paradox?"

"Incorrect. Which element has the highest electronegativity on the Pauling scale?"

As more and more questions start to flow in, and Baya answers them incorrectly, breathing becomes harder than it did in the sauna. She gulps for air after she gives yet another incorrect answer.

"Which classical work of literature holds the distinction of being the most translated book in the world after the Bible?"

"Anne Frank's diary?" Baya peeps, her tone high-pitched.

"Incorrect. What is the only known material that can reflect one hundred percent of light across a wide spectrum of wavelengths?"

A tear slips down her cheek as she looks at the sauna. She can't see Chishiya, but she's answered so many questions incorrectly by now that he might as well— "Focus," she tells herself, wiping the tear away.

"A mirror," she guesses.

"Incorrect."

It's almost like the world falls apart. She rushes to the sauna, attempting to look through the ice cold glass, but she can't see anything.

"What is the estimated black market value of a human kidney, and what factors influence its price?"

Baya stops moving for a moment as she processes the question. Then, slowly, she starts smiling.

"The black market value of a human kidney ranges from one hundred thousand dollar to two hundred thousand, though the price can vary depending on factors such as the donor's health, the region in which the organ is sold, and the urgency of the kidney."

The silence that follows feels impossibly long.

Then, finally, "Correct."

The second the door to the sauna opens, Baya sprints inside. The cold cuts through her skin like a blade.

Chishiya is slumped against the back wall, his body a pale. His lips are a deep, unnatural blue, and his skin has taken on an ashen color. His eyes are shut, and there's no sign of life in his face. He's still, save for the occasional, shallow rise and fall of his chest, so faint that she can barely tell if it's real or if her mind is tricking her.

She moves forward in a blur, her heart clenching painfully as she reaches him, panic surging through her veins. "Chishiya!" she calls out.

She kneels beside him. "Chishiya!" she repeats, louder this time. Her fingers graze his cold, clammy skin. Her fingers rush to his neck, desperate for a pulse. She feels it, weak and erratic, but it's there. She pulls him up into her arms, ignoring how cold and stiff he feels, how his body seems to resist her touch. His head lolls against her shoulder. She can barely hold him up.

Her voice cracks as she pulls him closer, feeling the frost in his hair, the icy sting of his skin against her cheek. With a shaking breath, she forces him into an upright position, her arms wrapped tightly around him. She's not strong enough to carry him easily, but she pushes herself to her limits.

She stumbles, the icy air pressing in, and she hears her heartbeat ringing in her ears as she hurries him out of the sauna, her feet slipping against the frozen floor. Chishiya's head falls against her chest. He's not even there, not really. His body is just a hollow weight.

"Chishiya..." She murmurs softly, her voice fragile, as if speaking louder might shatter him completely. She lays him down gently on the ground and starts rubbing his arms frantically, her voice rising in panic. "Chishiya!"

Baya doesn't stop moving. She presses her palms to his chest, her fingers cold from the contact with his skin, yet she doesn't notice the temperature anymore. She removes her shirt and puts it on top of him, rubbing it gently.

His lips remain blue, his face pale as if all color had been drained from him. Baya bites her lip until it bleeds, a shaky hand reaching to his neck again. This isn't enough. She can't just wait. She can't sit back and do nothing.

Baya leans down, pressing her lips against his in a desperate kiss, as though her warmth can bring him back. Her hands clutch his face. As she pulls away, she feels a shiver.

It's small, but it's there. Then his eyelids flutter.

It's slow at first, but then his eyes snap open, the faintest trace of consciousness returning to them. He blinks, his lashes trembling as though the simple act of opening his eyes is a big effort. His pupils are dilated, unfocused at first, but then they settle on her.

She pulls him close, her hands cupping his face gently, her tears falling freely now. Chishiya blinks again, his face scrunching in confusion and exhaustion.

His hand weakly lifts, pressing against her wrist, though the movement is sluggish. She doesn't let go, not even when he sags against her, his body cold but his pulse growing stronger beneath her touch.

●・○・●・○・●

His body eventually begins to adjust, though slowly. She watches, her eyes never leaving him, as his breaths become deeper and steadier, the first sign of recovery. His face starts to regain some of its normal color. The bluish edges around his lips fades. A soft groan escapes him now and then.

It takes a full half hour before he opens his eyes again, blinking slowly. He looks at her.

"Yuzuki." His voice is weak and hoarse.

"Shh," she says softly, her fingers brushing his forehead. "Don't try to move yet."

He shakes his head slightly, but it's clear the effort is too much. He sways in her arms and she tightens her grip. "Chishiya, don't push yourself. Just rest."

"I'm... fine."

"Not yet," she murmurs, her own voice strained with the exhaustion she doesn't allow herself to feel. "You're not."

He tries to lift his hand, his fingers trembling, but he gives up almost immediately. She watches him, helpless, as his eyes flicker shut again, and his head tilts forward, resting against her shoulder.

Time passes in an agonizing blur of silence and shallow breathing. Every now and then, he stirs, but not enough to sit up, not enough to speak beyond soft groans and mumbled words that don't fully register in her mind.

Another hour goes by. Baya hasn't moved. She can feel the cold slowly creeping into her bones, but she ignores it.

After what feels like an eternity, Chishiya's hand shifts until it grips her arm. "I can... stand."

"No," she says firmly. "Not yet."

"I'm... I'm fine." He pushes against her arm weakly. Baya lets him try to sit up, though she's ready to catch him if he falls. His movements are jerky and uncertain, as if he's forgotten how to balance himself.

He stumbles forward a little, but somehow he steadies himself. "I'm fine," he repeats, this time with more strength.

It's another half hour before he's able to walk a few steps, his legs still shaky, his balance untrustworthy. With Baya's support, he manages it. It takes several hours for him to regain enough strength to walk without faltering, and even then, he leans heavily on her, barely able to stand on his own.

Either way, they make it to the Shoreline. Even as Chishiya stumbles. Even as she almost falls with him. Even as silent tears stream down her face, so fast that she nearly starts hyperventilating.

"I'm sorry," she sobs. "I—"

"It's okay—"

"No, no. It's not okay! I answered so many questions incorrectly and I wasted a lot of time," she wails. "I'm sorry—"

"It's okay," Chishiya repeats. The tiniest hint of a smile grows on his lips. "Returning felt... nice. Moving from the coldness of that sauna to the warmth of the room was like you and I. When you opened the door... it felt the same as you opening me up. It felt like all the cold—all my cold—had somewhere to go."

She sobs even harder. "Don't say things like that."

"You gave it... somewhere to melt," he adds weakly.