[Daffodil Like Yourself] Chapter 7
Aug. 4th, 2019 04:30 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
morphogenesisChapter Seven:
The same evening, Clover and Akane arrived on Crash Keys’ plant ship unscathed. After boarding, Akane retreated to a study and later invited Clover to share wine. They sat together in a small room that judging by the scattered tool parts and small wall of books on the desk was split equally between the Kurashiki siblings. Clover was surprised she drank although judging by how Akane seemed distractible and melancholy after a glass she didn’t do it often. Clover fell asleep in an armchair in the corner and when she woke up Akane had left her spare clothes draped over its arm. Clover looked on the dress and leggings with distrust but her current clothes reeked so she changed.
Despite Clover’s demands, Akane didn’t reveal what she was thinking of doing next. Instead she chose to hunch over a computer, growing increasingly frustrated at whatever she found. Clover played Solitaire with a deck of cards she found inside a small toolbox and shared a quick drink with one of the contractors manning the ship. He didn’t question the presence of a young, casually dressed woman on the ship. “Why don’t we board The Defiant and take them with us?” Clover asked, gesturing to the door where the contractor had just left.
“They won’t because I can’t offer them more hazard pay.” Akane wound a strand of hair around her finger until it looked like a wire tied tightly around it.
“Why?”
Akane sighed, looking torn, and admitted, “Because I’m locked out of our accounts. Somebody acquired either my credentials or...Niichan’s.” Akane didn’t seem like herself, or the face she presented anyway. She played with her hair a bit more before forcing her hand to still by gripping her wineglass.
“Oh.” Clover slumped back in her seat and looked up at the ceiling. “I kinda thought secret organizations were more powerful than this.”
“Me too.”
The night escalated quickly: While they wanted a moment more to consider their next action, they received a transmission over ship-to-ship relay from the last living Crash Keys’ spy aboard the ship. They’d been captured and were being used to send one last message for Akane. She was told not to pursue lest Hongou kill the hostages onboard, including her brother. Clover wondered what his game was by practically daring them to come. Now, of course, they had to go.
“I’m going,” Clover said.
Akane blinked as if confused. “I assumed.”
Clover decided not to be contrary. Akane asked her opinions and Clover drew on old job experience, TV shows, movies, and some creativity to help her craft an infiltration. They settled on shift change tomorrow, at 11pm, although their antsy energy announced they wanted sooner, now.
Akane sat back and exhaled. She considered her macaron with a tiny hesitant bite taken out of one and the other untouched. “Thank you,” she said unexpectedly. Clover had never heard her say it even when she said she understood Clover was angry at her but her sacrifices were necessary.
“I mean, what other choice do I have?” She loved her brother and helping someone, even them, made her feel better. And Junpei and Seven were idiots but they didn’t deserve to die either. Clover thought this was what maturity felt like. “I guess…” She almost said ‘Thanks.’ Almost.
Clover thought maybe she was making a mistake trusting Akane, but Light needed her so she’d make any mistakes for him.
**
Midday in November was too chilly for Clover’s liking, or maybe worry was freezing her. She rubbed her cheek against her jacket to warm it. Crash Keys’ plant ship was cut through by the breeze over the river. The ship was nameless and old and she wondered if the Kurashikis had a fondness for antiques or if they were just cheap. It was a heavily modified ro-fo, redesigned inside to be a mobile base of operations. When Clover was little she wanted to live in a houseboat; it must be nice to have Crash Keys’ money.
The time for shift change had come which meant Akane and Clover were headed for The Defiant by themselves. They boarded, carrying a lockpicking kit and small guns, via a tiny boat and with the help of one contractor who wouldn’t be following them aboard. Akane grabbed Clover’s collar when she slipped coming up the ladder. They had a simple map of the ship and crept around like experienced spies, making it to the bottommost deck and starting from the aft side to stern. They didn’t find anything and the next deck up had empty confinement rooms, no Aoi or Light.
When she and Akane found a utility closet they hid inside it to regroup. “Have you heard from your brother?” Akane asked her.
“No, stop asking me that.” Clover was trying but he was silent, and she knew he wouldn’t ignore her if he could reply. She bent over and braced her hands on her knees, suddenly dizzy with racing thoughts. “They’re just busy.”
“Of course. They’re getting back to us.”
Clover savored the silence and temporary peace in the closet before straightening up and trying to quiet her brain. “Let’s go.” She couldn’t take any more time to think.
In the very last confinement room they found Seven, bruised and scraped but alive. Akane exclaimed before she could catch herself. Seven apologetically said, “They jumped us,” and Akane hugged his neck. It was kind of cute, but Clover was doing her best to be impervious to Cute Akane. “I don’t know where Junpei is.”
“We’ll find him!” Akane said.
“Let’s tell everyone where we are,” Clover suggested, and together the trio crept towards the control room. Clover’s instincts were right and it had the ship-to-ship relay; while Seven made attempts to communicate with the outside world, Clover searched the room and settled for finding a screwdriver to use as a weapon. She and Akane had guns but she wanted a backup just in case. So many Nonary Games and her past job had made her distrustful, pragmatic, and defensive. “Seven, you okay here? I’m finding my brother.”
“Clover…” Akane began, but was silent at Clover’s glare.
“I’m. Going. With or without you.”
“Okay,” Akane said quietly. She looked to Seven. “Can you find Junpei for us?”
“Sure.” Seven put a hand on both of their heads. “Be safe.”
The ship was fairly empty save prisoners (Clover and Akane couldn’t find them but assumed), themselves, and a few assistants and security guards. Indicative that Hongou either didn’t have the money they thought he did, though enough, or he was deeply paranoid. Probably both. The emptiness came in handy when Clover and Akane had to run from three security guards who had stumbled on them outside of one room, lockpicking poorly because they were rushing and nerves frayed.
Quicker than possible Akane grabbed Clover’s forearm and they raced away, footsteps not far behind, but Akane was not an athlete and started to slow after turning a corner down a long hallway. Clover instinctively pulled her hand away to avoid the handicap of dragging a slower person, but when Akane tried to pick her speed back up she fell with a loud thud and a shriek.
Clover at first kept running, then she heard another cry and turned back to help Akane. Clover saw her pinned to the ground with her arms behind her back, and then Clover felt herself shoved to the floor. The guards took their guns and tossed them into a confinement room.
Clover took a deep breath. “He’s going to wanna see us right?”
Akane folded her ankles underneath her and nodded. “Yes, of course.”
Clover fiddled with her boot which hid the screwdriver, showing it briefly to Akane with a small smile. “Good.” Plan B was underway.
**
Junpei knew his ankle was meat with a little bone left. He didn't let shock at walking into a trap stop him from aiming at the nearest person, and then someone took a bludgeon to his knees and then that ankle when he went down. He must've thrown up before passing out, as remnants were crusted to his shirt.
The rocking of the ship made him nauseous. The back of his hand stung from the IV. Around him machines whirred, and he heard sleep-breathing and the occasional disturbed groan as some people didn't tolerate twilight sleep well. He was in a medical prison, strapped into a hospital bed and surrounded by the cargo of the First Nonary Game players. As far as he knew, Seven wasn't here. "Don't give up on my until you see the body," he'd told Junpei after that first mission to Free the Soul HQ, when he found Junpei surrounded by a smashed-up room because Seven had been late meeting up after and Junpei jumped to the worst conclusion. Junpei thought anger made him powerful then; it took a few key people to show him he was so angry because he was terrified of everything.
The thought that they'd killed Seven scared him; that Junpei was alive because they wanted him to be was bad. His ankle was splinted but throbbed so powerfully it interrupted his count as he tried to keep track of the length of time between someone else arriving to make rounds in the room. Pointless, as their pattern broke when a keening machine brought someone running, swearing, and then finally the resigned carrying out of another body after resuscitation failed.
He couldn't sit up, but he could count. Eighteen original participants minus the six who weren’t taken at first (Crash Keys, Fields, and as Seven blessedly confirmed, the Kashiwabaras) was twelve, minus Hideaki and Itsuki was ten. Ten people should've been in this room, but he didn't hear ten machines or see ten full beds. At most, six other people were with him in the dark now that that last victim was taken out.
Six. They could still save six. After all this, they would only save six. Was he angry or scared? His head nodded and he shook himself again, fighting sleep and vulnerability. He didn't have the strength to get out of the restraints tying his wrists to the bedrails. All he had was his head, fuzzy and failing him.
Is anybody listening? he transmitted, and whispery sensations trailed through his head, but nothing he could use. ‘You're just tired,’ he told himself. ‘Snap out of it.’ He rested his head and looked up at the dim ceiling. This is what Hideaki and Itsuki saw; how did they get out? What were their limits, their advantages?
They weren't constantly sedated. Hongou knew those risks, and it would be a last resort so he couldn't lose them to biology and modern science. Junpei tried to clench his right hand into a fist, but the most he could do now was curl it and swear internally. He couldn't speak. The stinging tug in the back of his hand reminded him he was fighting on two fronts, and his body was winning.
He dozed off and woke when his hand shifted and his arm flopped over the edge of the bedside. His eyes were too heavy to open, and he was so sure he must weigh the seven thousand pounds he felt but someone lifted him so easily.
"When ya see the body. Not a moment before," Seven told him, and Junpei drifted in his embrace away from this dead silent room more tomb than hospital room. Hospital room, numbered door, final puzzle, lowercase ‘Q,’ Ally, Betray, decision, Monty Hall, human shield. What were the right choices then? He couldn't remember.
"...ship-to-ship relay..."
Proposing to her. That was one good one.
"Junpei? ...know...location..."
He hoped she hadn't come for them. He hoped she was wrong about being the sole survivor and had a happy life without him. Everyone could tell the truth was he'd be the miserable one.
"Say something, man."
"Don't feel good."
"No kidding. You gotta get some color back before the wedding."
"You think?"
"Don't waste your energy thinkin' about dying." Seven pinched his cheek so hard Junpei feared he'd pinch a nerve. "See? You look better already."
"Not interested."
"Don't give me nightmares, Junpei."
**
Hongou gathered them one last time before he was going to kill them. It was a stateroom in reds and gold, heavy wood furniture in a style that reminded him of The Gigantic and Building Q.
Aoi thought that Light looked perfectly comfortable in the stateroom sitting across from Hongou and composed despite looking ridiculous with the homemade sling and scuffy, harried hungover energy. He’d thanked Aoi again for his nursing earlier and it didn’t seem grudging. “Believe this,” he’d said quietly, “I don’t intend to die here.” Aoi’d poked his hand and he reluctantly bumped fists with him.
Light swirled his wineglass boredly and Aoi considered his, smelling it, but it just smelled like red wine. Earlier Light had petulantly spilled his glass and smiled and thanked Hongou when he refilled it halfway.
“So, some bad news,” Hongou began, “Your oafish friend has cut the game short by finding the ship-to-ship relay and letting the authorities know where we are. I had bigger plans for all of this, but,” he gestured aimlessly, “C’est la vie.” He tipped his glass towards Aoi, who stared at him. “I heard your sister is getting married. Congratulations.”
“Go to hell.” Aoi felt like he was in a play and was too amazed at the absurdity to stop and fight. The glass slipped in his hand and he clutched it tighter, willing himself not to show weakness in front of this man. Instead he toasted him, middle finger extended with the glass held up, and sipped.
Light, for his part, stayed quiet like he and Aoi’d agreed was for the best. He was paler than before with anger, but he stayed still.
“Would you like to see her fiancé living or dead?”
Aoi bit the inside of his cheek. “What are you saying?”
Hongou didn’t explain as Seven entered stage left and shut his eyes. Junpei was gathered against his chest, eyes closed and drooling down his chin, limbs limp like they had been as Aoi dragged him down the hallway in Building Q. “Hey kid.”
“Pick one,” Hongou said simply. “One lives and one dies.”
“Junpei!” Aoi called, but Junpei didn’t stir. He drooled on himself and twitched once as Aoi called his name but he was out. “Wake the fuck up,” he said just a hair shy of begging.
Seven looked down at him again, face drawn, before back to Aoi. He was furious, but that rage wasn’t directed at them; he couldn’t do anything with a gun to the back of his head thanks to the guard behind him. He set Junpei down on the floor. “Come on, y’know what I’m gonna tell you to do.”
“No,” Light said first. “I mean, why do you want to cooperate with his game?”
Aoi nodded. “Yeah, why do you want to give up?”
Hongou polished his nails and laughed under his breath. He was behaving like the spectacle wasn’t as much fun as he thought it would be, like a much-anticipated movie that turned out to be mediocre. “This is boring. Hurry up or I’ll kill both of them.”
Aoi gagged, feeling like he always did when his anxiety was spiking higher than he could cope. “What am I supposed to do?” He shook his head and tried to smile at Seven. “Lotus is gonna kick my ass if I kill you.”
“It’s true, I dread dealing with her anger,” Light added.
Seven looked at them both fondly before he exhorted them, “Stop. Think about Akane—does she deserve to lose her fiancé?”
“She’ll kick my ass even harder,” Aoi tried to joke, but he swallowed bile.
“Clover and I are still angry with you two,” Light began, and Aoi twisted around to tell him to be quiet, when Light added, “But we can never forgive you if you die. Please. I’m not going to choose.” He aimed this last part at Hongou.
“I really should have anticipated this. A shame you’ve all grown so soft.” Hongou waved the guard off, who left, as if he were dead confident he was in control. “Do you think they care about you?” he asked Light.
Light frowned. “...I don’t think they would’ve come if they didn’t. Even if they don’t I owe them a debt now and I will clear it.” He inclined his head towards Aoi and Aoi gave a tiny, encouraged smile. It wasn’t going to save them, but it helped now that Light wasn’t fighting him at every step.
“Well allow me to make the decision then.”
Seven chose that time to roar and rush Hongou, who shot him perfectly in the stomach twice. It felled Seven like an ancient tree and he landed on his side, yelling.
Aoi, not caring about the threat, slid out of his chair and quickly crawled to Seven and try to stem the growing bleeding with his hands. Stomach wounds were painful but it would take a long time for Seven to die, he remembered, although until then he’d wish he was dead. Judging by the way Seven was both rigid and groaning, he did.
“Seven, are you—”
“Do something!” Aoi called to his only functional partner over his shoulder.
He watched Light trace his wineglass for a moment before shrugging and tossing it at Hongou, who flinched enough for Light to feel safe to scramble over to them. Aoi nudged him towards Junpei with his elbow and Light tried to rouse him. Poor Junpei getting his ear shouted in by someone who could sing and project. Aoi had the sinking feeling something was really wrong; Junpei shouldn’t still be asleep like that.
In desperation he looked to Hongou, who had glass pieces on his shirt but only looked amused. “My offer is the same,” Aoi said, “I’m majority shareholder. I can do an MVL of Crash Keys so you get half with the other half going to a company I know you can afford to buy out. You give all the espers back and you get majority shares for our biggest operation, our assets in the West, and liquid funds.”
“How much?”
“The exact details are in the contract in your inbox. I set up everything last night. One signature and all of it’s yours.” He ground his teeth, more pressure on one side of his bite than the other because it was so crooked. “Bonus if you let us all go now to get help for these two.”
“Why should I care if someone who ruined my life dies?”
A penknife-sized stab of disbelief slid between Aoi’s ribs. He knew it was a longshot but he’d clung to the hope that Hongou would be tempted enough. “Then just them! You can have me, you can do whatever you want, but just let them go.” Beneath him Seven had stopped writhing but the noises coming from him were terrifying. Aoi murmured to him he was cool, it was going to be okay, hold on, Lotus will really kick Aoi’s ass now.
“No. I want what I want, although you did make a compelling offer.”
“Mr. Hongou,” Light’s polite language was delivered dead serious and without irony, but it was clearly weaponized, “You hate the Kurashikis more than any man. I believe that, and I know you understand how to play a long game. If any more deaths occur, they might feel guilty, they might grieve, but you’ll have made enemies who will pursue you to Hell and beyond. You know this is true.” He cleared his throat, their agreed upon signal that he knew what he was doing and not to interfere. “But if you accept these terms, you’ll successfully ruin years of work and leave them with nothing, like they were born with. And with SOIS behind you, you can do whatever you like to them then. Look how easy it was to gather every major player here and entrap them. I begrudgingly congratulate you.”
“Don’t flatter me.”
“No, truly. You beat me to it. I’m envious of that and your current position. You’re set to acquire a staggering amount of capital in mere hours, and you have even more bargaining power right now. And you did not build Cradle Pharmaceutical by avoiding risk.
“The bonus offered is this: Everything Aoi just said, and the holding corporation of Crash Keys’ remaining assets.”
“Humor me: explain ‘remaining.’”
“Crash Keys is dead,” Aoi said and the floor cracked beneath him. “There’s whatever you’ll have, and then there’s Bluebird Management. ‘Crash Keys’ doesn’t exist and it never will again.” A very long time ago, when they officially set up their charter, he made himself majority shareholder because Akane wasn’t legally old enough. Akane was the undeniable leader, but not on paper, so Aoi could do this though he hated it. “Most of them live, you still get what you’re promised. Everyone goes now, Bluebird’s owners sell and you get everything.”
“And how do I know this is legitimate?”
Light’s face didn’t match the confidence he tried to force into his voice: “Because you’re speaking to them right now.”
The same evening, Clover and Akane arrived on Crash Keys’ plant ship unscathed. After boarding, Akane retreated to a study and later invited Clover to share wine. They sat together in a small room that judging by the scattered tool parts and small wall of books on the desk was split equally between the Kurashiki siblings. Clover was surprised she drank although judging by how Akane seemed distractible and melancholy after a glass she didn’t do it often. Clover fell asleep in an armchair in the corner and when she woke up Akane had left her spare clothes draped over its arm. Clover looked on the dress and leggings with distrust but her current clothes reeked so she changed.
Despite Clover’s demands, Akane didn’t reveal what she was thinking of doing next. Instead she chose to hunch over a computer, growing increasingly frustrated at whatever she found. Clover played Solitaire with a deck of cards she found inside a small toolbox and shared a quick drink with one of the contractors manning the ship. He didn’t question the presence of a young, casually dressed woman on the ship. “Why don’t we board The Defiant and take them with us?” Clover asked, gesturing to the door where the contractor had just left.
“They won’t because I can’t offer them more hazard pay.” Akane wound a strand of hair around her finger until it looked like a wire tied tightly around it.
“Why?”
Akane sighed, looking torn, and admitted, “Because I’m locked out of our accounts. Somebody acquired either my credentials or...Niichan’s.” Akane didn’t seem like herself, or the face she presented anyway. She played with her hair a bit more before forcing her hand to still by gripping her wineglass.
“Oh.” Clover slumped back in her seat and looked up at the ceiling. “I kinda thought secret organizations were more powerful than this.”
“Me too.”
The night escalated quickly: While they wanted a moment more to consider their next action, they received a transmission over ship-to-ship relay from the last living Crash Keys’ spy aboard the ship. They’d been captured and were being used to send one last message for Akane. She was told not to pursue lest Hongou kill the hostages onboard, including her brother. Clover wondered what his game was by practically daring them to come. Now, of course, they had to go.
“I’m going,” Clover said.
Akane blinked as if confused. “I assumed.”
Clover decided not to be contrary. Akane asked her opinions and Clover drew on old job experience, TV shows, movies, and some creativity to help her craft an infiltration. They settled on shift change tomorrow, at 11pm, although their antsy energy announced they wanted sooner, now.
Akane sat back and exhaled. She considered her macaron with a tiny hesitant bite taken out of one and the other untouched. “Thank you,” she said unexpectedly. Clover had never heard her say it even when she said she understood Clover was angry at her but her sacrifices were necessary.
“I mean, what other choice do I have?” She loved her brother and helping someone, even them, made her feel better. And Junpei and Seven were idiots but they didn’t deserve to die either. Clover thought this was what maturity felt like. “I guess…” She almost said ‘Thanks.’ Almost.
Clover thought maybe she was making a mistake trusting Akane, but Light needed her so she’d make any mistakes for him.
**
Midday in November was too chilly for Clover’s liking, or maybe worry was freezing her. She rubbed her cheek against her jacket to warm it. Crash Keys’ plant ship was cut through by the breeze over the river. The ship was nameless and old and she wondered if the Kurashikis had a fondness for antiques or if they were just cheap. It was a heavily modified ro-fo, redesigned inside to be a mobile base of operations. When Clover was little she wanted to live in a houseboat; it must be nice to have Crash Keys’ money.
The time for shift change had come which meant Akane and Clover were headed for The Defiant by themselves. They boarded, carrying a lockpicking kit and small guns, via a tiny boat and with the help of one contractor who wouldn’t be following them aboard. Akane grabbed Clover’s collar when she slipped coming up the ladder. They had a simple map of the ship and crept around like experienced spies, making it to the bottommost deck and starting from the aft side to stern. They didn’t find anything and the next deck up had empty confinement rooms, no Aoi or Light.
When she and Akane found a utility closet they hid inside it to regroup. “Have you heard from your brother?” Akane asked her.
“No, stop asking me that.” Clover was trying but he was silent, and she knew he wouldn’t ignore her if he could reply. She bent over and braced her hands on her knees, suddenly dizzy with racing thoughts. “They’re just busy.”
“Of course. They’re getting back to us.”
Clover savored the silence and temporary peace in the closet before straightening up and trying to quiet her brain. “Let’s go.” She couldn’t take any more time to think.
In the very last confinement room they found Seven, bruised and scraped but alive. Akane exclaimed before she could catch herself. Seven apologetically said, “They jumped us,” and Akane hugged his neck. It was kind of cute, but Clover was doing her best to be impervious to Cute Akane. “I don’t know where Junpei is.”
“We’ll find him!” Akane said.
“Let’s tell everyone where we are,” Clover suggested, and together the trio crept towards the control room. Clover’s instincts were right and it had the ship-to-ship relay; while Seven made attempts to communicate with the outside world, Clover searched the room and settled for finding a screwdriver to use as a weapon. She and Akane had guns but she wanted a backup just in case. So many Nonary Games and her past job had made her distrustful, pragmatic, and defensive. “Seven, you okay here? I’m finding my brother.”
“Clover…” Akane began, but was silent at Clover’s glare.
“I’m. Going. With or without you.”
“Okay,” Akane said quietly. She looked to Seven. “Can you find Junpei for us?”
“Sure.” Seven put a hand on both of their heads. “Be safe.”
The ship was fairly empty save prisoners (Clover and Akane couldn’t find them but assumed), themselves, and a few assistants and security guards. Indicative that Hongou either didn’t have the money they thought he did, though enough, or he was deeply paranoid. Probably both. The emptiness came in handy when Clover and Akane had to run from three security guards who had stumbled on them outside of one room, lockpicking poorly because they were rushing and nerves frayed.
Quicker than possible Akane grabbed Clover’s forearm and they raced away, footsteps not far behind, but Akane was not an athlete and started to slow after turning a corner down a long hallway. Clover instinctively pulled her hand away to avoid the handicap of dragging a slower person, but when Akane tried to pick her speed back up she fell with a loud thud and a shriek.
Clover at first kept running, then she heard another cry and turned back to help Akane. Clover saw her pinned to the ground with her arms behind her back, and then Clover felt herself shoved to the floor. The guards took their guns and tossed them into a confinement room.
Clover took a deep breath. “He’s going to wanna see us right?”
Akane folded her ankles underneath her and nodded. “Yes, of course.”
Clover fiddled with her boot which hid the screwdriver, showing it briefly to Akane with a small smile. “Good.” Plan B was underway.
**
Junpei knew his ankle was meat with a little bone left. He didn't let shock at walking into a trap stop him from aiming at the nearest person, and then someone took a bludgeon to his knees and then that ankle when he went down. He must've thrown up before passing out, as remnants were crusted to his shirt.
The rocking of the ship made him nauseous. The back of his hand stung from the IV. Around him machines whirred, and he heard sleep-breathing and the occasional disturbed groan as some people didn't tolerate twilight sleep well. He was in a medical prison, strapped into a hospital bed and surrounded by the cargo of the First Nonary Game players. As far as he knew, Seven wasn't here. "Don't give up on my until you see the body," he'd told Junpei after that first mission to Free the Soul HQ, when he found Junpei surrounded by a smashed-up room because Seven had been late meeting up after and Junpei jumped to the worst conclusion. Junpei thought anger made him powerful then; it took a few key people to show him he was so angry because he was terrified of everything.
The thought that they'd killed Seven scared him; that Junpei was alive because they wanted him to be was bad. His ankle was splinted but throbbed so powerfully it interrupted his count as he tried to keep track of the length of time between someone else arriving to make rounds in the room. Pointless, as their pattern broke when a keening machine brought someone running, swearing, and then finally the resigned carrying out of another body after resuscitation failed.
He couldn't sit up, but he could count. Eighteen original participants minus the six who weren’t taken at first (Crash Keys, Fields, and as Seven blessedly confirmed, the Kashiwabaras) was twelve, minus Hideaki and Itsuki was ten. Ten people should've been in this room, but he didn't hear ten machines or see ten full beds. At most, six other people were with him in the dark now that that last victim was taken out.
Six. They could still save six. After all this, they would only save six. Was he angry or scared? His head nodded and he shook himself again, fighting sleep and vulnerability. He didn't have the strength to get out of the restraints tying his wrists to the bedrails. All he had was his head, fuzzy and failing him.
Is anybody listening? he transmitted, and whispery sensations trailed through his head, but nothing he could use. ‘You're just tired,’ he told himself. ‘Snap out of it.’ He rested his head and looked up at the dim ceiling. This is what Hideaki and Itsuki saw; how did they get out? What were their limits, their advantages?
They weren't constantly sedated. Hongou knew those risks, and it would be a last resort so he couldn't lose them to biology and modern science. Junpei tried to clench his right hand into a fist, but the most he could do now was curl it and swear internally. He couldn't speak. The stinging tug in the back of his hand reminded him he was fighting on two fronts, and his body was winning.
He dozed off and woke when his hand shifted and his arm flopped over the edge of the bedside. His eyes were too heavy to open, and he was so sure he must weigh the seven thousand pounds he felt but someone lifted him so easily.
"When ya see the body. Not a moment before," Seven told him, and Junpei drifted in his embrace away from this dead silent room more tomb than hospital room. Hospital room, numbered door, final puzzle, lowercase ‘Q,’ Ally, Betray, decision, Monty Hall, human shield. What were the right choices then? He couldn't remember.
"...ship-to-ship relay..."
Proposing to her. That was one good one.
"Junpei? ...know...location..."
He hoped she hadn't come for them. He hoped she was wrong about being the sole survivor and had a happy life without him. Everyone could tell the truth was he'd be the miserable one.
"Say something, man."
"Don't feel good."
"No kidding. You gotta get some color back before the wedding."
"You think?"
"Don't waste your energy thinkin' about dying." Seven pinched his cheek so hard Junpei feared he'd pinch a nerve. "See? You look better already."
"Not interested."
"Don't give me nightmares, Junpei."
**
Hongou gathered them one last time before he was going to kill them. It was a stateroom in reds and gold, heavy wood furniture in a style that reminded him of The Gigantic and Building Q.
Aoi thought that Light looked perfectly comfortable in the stateroom sitting across from Hongou and composed despite looking ridiculous with the homemade sling and scuffy, harried hungover energy. He’d thanked Aoi again for his nursing earlier and it didn’t seem grudging. “Believe this,” he’d said quietly, “I don’t intend to die here.” Aoi’d poked his hand and he reluctantly bumped fists with him.
Light swirled his wineglass boredly and Aoi considered his, smelling it, but it just smelled like red wine. Earlier Light had petulantly spilled his glass and smiled and thanked Hongou when he refilled it halfway.
“So, some bad news,” Hongou began, “Your oafish friend has cut the game short by finding the ship-to-ship relay and letting the authorities know where we are. I had bigger plans for all of this, but,” he gestured aimlessly, “C’est la vie.” He tipped his glass towards Aoi, who stared at him. “I heard your sister is getting married. Congratulations.”
“Go to hell.” Aoi felt like he was in a play and was too amazed at the absurdity to stop and fight. The glass slipped in his hand and he clutched it tighter, willing himself not to show weakness in front of this man. Instead he toasted him, middle finger extended with the glass held up, and sipped.
Light, for his part, stayed quiet like he and Aoi’d agreed was for the best. He was paler than before with anger, but he stayed still.
“Would you like to see her fiancé living or dead?”
Aoi bit the inside of his cheek. “What are you saying?”
Hongou didn’t explain as Seven entered stage left and shut his eyes. Junpei was gathered against his chest, eyes closed and drooling down his chin, limbs limp like they had been as Aoi dragged him down the hallway in Building Q. “Hey kid.”
“Pick one,” Hongou said simply. “One lives and one dies.”
“Junpei!” Aoi called, but Junpei didn’t stir. He drooled on himself and twitched once as Aoi called his name but he was out. “Wake the fuck up,” he said just a hair shy of begging.
Seven looked down at him again, face drawn, before back to Aoi. He was furious, but that rage wasn’t directed at them; he couldn’t do anything with a gun to the back of his head thanks to the guard behind him. He set Junpei down on the floor. “Come on, y’know what I’m gonna tell you to do.”
“No,” Light said first. “I mean, why do you want to cooperate with his game?”
Aoi nodded. “Yeah, why do you want to give up?”
Hongou polished his nails and laughed under his breath. He was behaving like the spectacle wasn’t as much fun as he thought it would be, like a much-anticipated movie that turned out to be mediocre. “This is boring. Hurry up or I’ll kill both of them.”
Aoi gagged, feeling like he always did when his anxiety was spiking higher than he could cope. “What am I supposed to do?” He shook his head and tried to smile at Seven. “Lotus is gonna kick my ass if I kill you.”
“It’s true, I dread dealing with her anger,” Light added.
Seven looked at them both fondly before he exhorted them, “Stop. Think about Akane—does she deserve to lose her fiancé?”
“She’ll kick my ass even harder,” Aoi tried to joke, but he swallowed bile.
“Clover and I are still angry with you two,” Light began, and Aoi twisted around to tell him to be quiet, when Light added, “But we can never forgive you if you die. Please. I’m not going to choose.” He aimed this last part at Hongou.
“I really should have anticipated this. A shame you’ve all grown so soft.” Hongou waved the guard off, who left, as if he were dead confident he was in control. “Do you think they care about you?” he asked Light.
Light frowned. “...I don’t think they would’ve come if they didn’t. Even if they don’t I owe them a debt now and I will clear it.” He inclined his head towards Aoi and Aoi gave a tiny, encouraged smile. It wasn’t going to save them, but it helped now that Light wasn’t fighting him at every step.
“Well allow me to make the decision then.”
Seven chose that time to roar and rush Hongou, who shot him perfectly in the stomach twice. It felled Seven like an ancient tree and he landed on his side, yelling.
Aoi, not caring about the threat, slid out of his chair and quickly crawled to Seven and try to stem the growing bleeding with his hands. Stomach wounds were painful but it would take a long time for Seven to die, he remembered, although until then he’d wish he was dead. Judging by the way Seven was both rigid and groaning, he did.
“Seven, are you—”
“Do something!” Aoi called to his only functional partner over his shoulder.
He watched Light trace his wineglass for a moment before shrugging and tossing it at Hongou, who flinched enough for Light to feel safe to scramble over to them. Aoi nudged him towards Junpei with his elbow and Light tried to rouse him. Poor Junpei getting his ear shouted in by someone who could sing and project. Aoi had the sinking feeling something was really wrong; Junpei shouldn’t still be asleep like that.
In desperation he looked to Hongou, who had glass pieces on his shirt but only looked amused. “My offer is the same,” Aoi said, “I’m majority shareholder. I can do an MVL of Crash Keys so you get half with the other half going to a company I know you can afford to buy out. You give all the espers back and you get majority shares for our biggest operation, our assets in the West, and liquid funds.”
“How much?”
“The exact details are in the contract in your inbox. I set up everything last night. One signature and all of it’s yours.” He ground his teeth, more pressure on one side of his bite than the other because it was so crooked. “Bonus if you let us all go now to get help for these two.”
“Why should I care if someone who ruined my life dies?”
A penknife-sized stab of disbelief slid between Aoi’s ribs. He knew it was a longshot but he’d clung to the hope that Hongou would be tempted enough. “Then just them! You can have me, you can do whatever you want, but just let them go.” Beneath him Seven had stopped writhing but the noises coming from him were terrifying. Aoi murmured to him he was cool, it was going to be okay, hold on, Lotus will really kick Aoi’s ass now.
“No. I want what I want, although you did make a compelling offer.”
“Mr. Hongou,” Light’s polite language was delivered dead serious and without irony, but it was clearly weaponized, “You hate the Kurashikis more than any man. I believe that, and I know you understand how to play a long game. If any more deaths occur, they might feel guilty, they might grieve, but you’ll have made enemies who will pursue you to Hell and beyond. You know this is true.” He cleared his throat, their agreed upon signal that he knew what he was doing and not to interfere. “But if you accept these terms, you’ll successfully ruin years of work and leave them with nothing, like they were born with. And with SOIS behind you, you can do whatever you like to them then. Look how easy it was to gather every major player here and entrap them. I begrudgingly congratulate you.”
“Don’t flatter me.”
“No, truly. You beat me to it. I’m envious of that and your current position. You’re set to acquire a staggering amount of capital in mere hours, and you have even more bargaining power right now. And you did not build Cradle Pharmaceutical by avoiding risk.
“The bonus offered is this: Everything Aoi just said, and the holding corporation of Crash Keys’ remaining assets.”
“Humor me: explain ‘remaining.’”
“Crash Keys is dead,” Aoi said and the floor cracked beneath him. “There’s whatever you’ll have, and then there’s Bluebird Management. ‘Crash Keys’ doesn’t exist and it never will again.” A very long time ago, when they officially set up their charter, he made himself majority shareholder because Akane wasn’t legally old enough. Akane was the undeniable leader, but not on paper, so Aoi could do this though he hated it. “Most of them live, you still get what you’re promised. Everyone goes now, Bluebird’s owners sell and you get everything.”
“And how do I know this is legitimate?”
Light’s face didn’t match the confidence he tried to force into his voice: “Because you’re speaking to them right now.”
