Chapter Text
“Difficulty: Six of Clubs. Game: Piñata.”
The colorful image of a donkey-shaped piñata appeared on the large screen. Niragi shifted his weight, watching with mild disinterest as the disembodied voice explained the game his group was going to play. The weight of the Colt M4 resting against his shoulder was familiarly reassuring.
“Fun,” Kuina deadpanned next to him.
“Rules: Each round, choose between three options to hit the piñata and earn points. The categories are: physical, blades and other. Each option is worth an amount of points between one and ten.”
Next to the piñata, three simple depictions of a fist, a knife and a question mark flickered to life, each with a random number next to them. After a short moment, the knife and the number two beside it flashed a bright green, indicating that they had been picked.
“Both the options and associated points vary between players and reset with each new round.”
The categories appeared on the other side of the piñata as well, this time with different numbers. One of them turned green and granted three points to the fictional second player, before the numbers changed again.
“When at least three players have the same amount of points at the same time, you clear the game.”
A third exemplary player appeared, seven points to their name. The remaining two chose the options with the numbers five and four respectively, landing both of them at seven points as well. The screen played a tacky animation of confetti and a congratulatory jingle.
“The fuck is this shit?” Niragi scoffed. “I thought this was a Six.”
Chishiya kept his contemplative gaze fixed on the display. “Hm. There’s probably more to it.”
“Failure to carry out attacks as described will result in the elimination of the player in question. Furthermore, if the piñata dies before the win condition is met, the game will be over for all players.”
There it was. Of course that know-all asshole had to have been right.
“Dies?” Arisu echoed, eyes wide.
“Each player may choose to skip a single attack. In that case, the player in question will have to inflict a different attack upon themselves. You have one minute to decide which player will act as the piñata. Please vote using the phones you have been provided.”
Chishiya hummed. “Now it sounds more like a Six, doesn’t it?”
A player. They were going to beat up a player. Niragi would have loved the idea, he would have laughed his damn ass off, if it wasn’t for that cold, nagging fear, suddenly settling into his stomach. He stole a quick glance at everyone present. Chishiya, Kuina, Arisu, Usagi. He was fucked.
“They want us to pick someone to torture…” Disbelief was painted all over Usagi’s face.
“How can we vote on something like that?” Arisu asked, voice thick with a strange mix of desperation and disgust.
Kuina groaned. “Shouldn’t this be a Hearts game?”
“Not necessarily,” Chishiya disagreed, an intrigued smile on his lips. “We have to find a strategy concerning the numbers and unless everyone works together, all players die. Only one person gets to make a mistake, otherwise we won’t have enough players to win anymore. Whoever ends up taking the role of the piñata has to be able to endure it and the other players must be willing to harm them. There’s a lot of different elements to this… A true Clubs game, no?”
On both the screen and their phones, a photo of each of them appeared. Niragi caught Usagi staring at him from the corner of his eye. Kuina and Arisu exchanged a disturbed look. Chishiya let his curious, sharp gaze wander over all of them, but Niragi didn’t miss that it lingered on him for just a split second longer.
The choice was already made. It was him. There was no way they were going to pick anyone else. They were just too chickenshit to admit it outright, but he was certain that it had been the first thought to cross all their minds. Hell, they were probably relieved that they would be able to stay completely out of harm’s way themselves. And even if Arisu tried to pull some hero shit, there was no way in hell the others were going to let him do it.
So there was a downside to being hated, after all.
“Forty seconds remaining,” the announcement declared.
“Shall we discuss our options, then?” Chishiya asked, hands in his pockets, completely unfazed.
Niragi gnawed on the inside of his cheek, struggling to make up his mind. All he ever wanted was to have a choice. Freedom to do as he pleased. Independence, absolute power over his own life. He needed to be in charge, to be feared. And now, someone was trying to take that from him, to dictate his outcome. To force him right back into the role of his pathetic old self, long before the Borderlands. Only this time, he wasn’t going to allow it. Not here, not when he had fought so hard for his place at the top. Nobody else was going to decide over his fate.
“No need,” Niragi laughed, lowering his rifle from his shoulder before he entered his choice on the phone. On the screen, a tally mark appeared next to his own face. “I volunteer.”
There was a beat of stunned silence and then, almost in unison, everyone turned to stare at him. It was hilarious, the way Arisu’s jaw slightly dropped, the way Usagi narrowed her eyes, the way Kuina furrowed her brow. The only one who didn’t look surprised in the slightest was Chishiya, his knowing smile ever-present, as if he’d already figured out it was going to turn out this way before they had even entered the empty warehouse. Niragi fought the overwhelming urge to acquaint that stupid, smug face with his fist. Instead, he carelessly tossed his rifle to the ground with an exaggerated movement, a condescending grin on his lips. The way Arisu flinched at the sound was delicious.
“What?” Niragi sneered. “You were gonna pick me anyway, right?” He laughed, a twisted, deranged sound, even to his own ears. “Stop pretending like you give a shit. Fuck, you all really piss me off, acting like you’re such good people.”
He slowly walked over to Chishiya until they were mere inches apart. The shorter man didn’t back away, simply lifted his chin a little to return his stare, the neutral look on his face unchanged.
“You’d all love to see me suffer, right? For you, this is the best thing that could have happened today.” Niragi abruptly turned to face the group again. “You should at least have the guts to fucking admit that!”
“Twenty seconds remaining,” the voice announced.
“Time’s running out,” he laughed, waving his phone in the air. “Better make your choice.”
Usagi was the first to vote. Chishiya followed, his distant expression unreadable. Kuina joined only a second later. Arisu, on the other hand, stared at him for a long moment, a strange look on his face.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked. Pretentious bastard.
Niragi glared at him, disgusted that even now, he was still keeping up his stupid act of heroism. “The fuck does it look like, idiot?”
“Five seconds remaining.”
Arisu didn’t reply. It was deadly quiet. Then, a fifth mark appeared next to Niragi’s photo on the screen. The timer stopped at two seconds. A pixelated depiction of a piñata appeared in the corner of his image.
“The piñata is: Niragi Suguru. Please step into the marked area to start the game.”
In the middle of the room, framed on two opposing sides by four rectangular steel blocks with a chair each, the outline of a square on the concrete floor began to glow a cold blue. Niragi’s grin widened as he made his way over to his designated spot with calculatedly carefree steps. The frantic beating of his heart, hammering in his throat, remained hidden beneath his cocky demeanor. The way everyone’s stares burned into his skin was exhilarating. He was at the center of their attention, hated, despised, feared. Just how it was supposed to be. But they sure as hell didn’t deserve to be the ones in control of his fate. This had been his own choice. Not theirs. He had sworn to himself years ago that nobody was ever going to have that kind of power over him again.
“We’re going to win this all thanks to me,” he declared. “You better fucking remember that.”
The line flashed a bright red as he crossed it.
“Players, please be seated,” the voice requested.
Except for Chishiya, everyone lingered for a moment, exchanging uncertain glances before they picked a spot and sat down.
“It’s not going to be easy to coordinate our points with four players,” Chishiya mused. “Since the numbers are randomized…”
“We can’t even plan ahead,” Kuina sighed.
Arms casually crossed, Niragi watched as they discussed their worries and ideas, deliberately looking everywhere except at him. So they even had the audacity to feel bad. Or maybe they just didn’t care. That would be the less hypocritical option, at least.
“We should start with low numbers,” Arisu suggested.
Chishiya leaned back in his chair, giving thought to the idea. “It might be easier to adjust that way, for now.” He gave a small nod. “Let’s try it.”
Before anyone could voice another opinion, the announcement “Game start” echoed through the empty warehouse. The sound sent a shiver down Niragi’s spine and he pointedly stood a little taller, adjusting his smile to look utterly unimpressed. On the display, his photo had been moved into the corner, leaving those of Chishiya, Kuina, Usagi and Arisu in a row, each with a large zero below them.
“Player one.”
Chishiya looked down at the tablet embedded into the steel table in front of him. His decision was made quickly, his expression aloof as he tapped the icon of his weapon of choice.
“Blades,” the voice supplied helpfully, just in time with a mechanical whir as the table opened up to reveal a simple combat knife.
“Place a cut on the piñata on a body part of your choice,” Chishiya read the instructions out loud. “It must be deep enough to draw blood.”
Relief flooded through Niragi’s veins. He had his fair share of experience with slash wounds. Depending on the placement, the pain could be pretty insignificant. A little less tense, he watched with a calculatedly bored expression as Chishiya picked up the weapon and joined him in the center of the room.
“Roll up your sleeve,” he instructed calmly, spinning the knife in his hand so that he was holding it almost like scalpel.
“The fuck are you ordering me around for?” Niragi scoffed.
Chishiya didn’t reply, instead raising his brows in a questioning look. With an annoyed huff, Niragi did as he was told and offered his now bare forearm, palm facing down. Chishiya’s fingers closed around his wrist to keep him from moving. His hands were warm. Probably because he kept them in his pockets all the time. Without comment, he pressed the knife into Niragi’s skin. A prickling burning followed the thin trail of blood that the blade left behind. If anything, the pain was pleasant. A second, maybe two, then he was done.
“Attack complete,” the announcement confirmed happily.
“Hah.” Niragi wiped his palm over the wound, leaving behind a smear of deep red. “This is gonna be an easy fucking win, huh?”
As Chishiya returned to his seat, the zero below his portrait was replaced by a two.
“Player two,” came the disembodied order.
Kuina glanced up at him for a split second, but quickly looked back at her tablet when he returned her gaze with a challenging intensity. She picked a category and hesitantly walked up to him.
“I thought you’d be more excited to beat me up,” Niragi scoffed.
She shrugged, arms crossed, an unenthused look on her face. “It’s no fun like this. This is just sad.”
Niragi raised his brows. “Don’t tell me you’re feeling bad for me? And here I thought you didn’t like me.”
That got her going. “Not in a million years,” Kuina huffed with a roll of her eyes, pushing one foot back and raising her arms to assume a fighting stance.
Before Niragi was able to say another word, her foot slammed into his chest. He stumbled backwards, gasping as the air was knocked from his lungs from the heavy impact. Dull pain pulsed through his ribcage.
“So you are enjoying this,” he wheezed with a grin.
Kuina had already turned her back on him again. “I might have changed my mind,” she said coldly. “You deserved that one.”
He supposed he couldn’t argue with that. A single point was added to Kuina’s counter.
“Attack complete. Player three.”
The look on Usagi’s face was burning holes into his skull. She stared at him for far too long before she turned her attention to the task. And Niragi had to admit, she had every right to look at him like that. Their little stunt at the Beach probably hadn’t left the best first impression. Not that he had wanted to. The threat to break Arisu’s legs had been one thing and part of him was still annoyed that they hadn’t been able to go through with it thanks to Hatter’s interruption. It would have been quite funny. But acting as if Aguni was going to have his way with Usagi had admittedly been a bit much. At least Niragi had been pretty damn sure that his boss wouldn’t actually have done anything. He didn’t seem the type to be interested in such things. It had been a play, a show put on to scare the newcomers into submission and remind the other members at the Beach of their place. A disgusting one, nonetheless, that much he had to acknowledge. There were certain lines even he didn’t want to cross.
Niragi watched as Usagi’s finger hovered over one of the three images. She hesitated. Then, at the last second, she seemed to change her mind, selecting a different one with slightly too much force.
“Physical.”
She abruptly stood up, practically storming towards him. Niragi barely had time to prepare before her fist crashed into his face. Blinding pain exploded in his skull and for a moment, the world turned white. The taste of iron gathered in his mouth. Something wet and warm began to stream from his nose. Blood, if he had to take a wild guess. He blinked the colors back into his vision just in time to see Usagi lunge out again. Niragi quickly spun to the side, narrowly dodging the second punch.
“Having fun?” he sneered. “Don’t worry, I’m sure there’s gonna be plenty of time for you to enjoy yourself.”
She stared at him with wild eyes, already preparing for another strike.
“Attack complete.”
“Usagi!”
She stopped at the sound of Arisu’s voice. Her gaze visibly cleared. Slowly, she lowered her fist and gave up the boxing stance she had assumed. Niragi wiped his aching nose with his sleeve and spat out the blood that had gathered in his mouth. She gave him one last, contemptuous look and returned to her table without a single word. The number seven appeared below her image.
“Oh?” Chishiya made, more intrigued than anything.
“Usagi…” Arisu repeated quietly.
She lifted her gaze to look at her friend – or boyfriend, probably, with the way they were glued to each other at all times. Her expression softened into something apologetic. As if Arisu was the one she had just condemned to more rounds of pain. God, he hated these people.
“Player four.”
The man in question stared at his tablet with wide eyes for a good few seconds before making a decision.
“Other: baseball bat.”
Ah, fuck. Niragi couldn’t help but breathe out a laugh as Arisu hesitantly picked up the weapon the steel table spat out for him. Now this was a familiar scene, alright. He despised the way his heartbeat doubled at the mere sight of the stupid piece of wood. The phantom stench of trash and exhaust fumes stung in his nose.
“… must break at least one rib,” Arisu read out part of the instructions, his face gaining an impressive resemblance to his white shirt. “Multiple attempts allowed.”
He almost looked like he was going to be sick and Niragi would have found it pretty damn hilarious, if he hadn’t been so unnecessarily terrified.
“Put some muscle into it, then,” he scoffed, desperately trying to keep up the act that this was all, quite literally, just a stupid little game to him. “I’m not interested in dragging this out, got it?”
Arisu nodded, gripping his weapon tighter as he entered the square. He slowly raised it, brows furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line, and every muscle in Niragi’s body was screaming at him to run.
“You should aim lower.” Chishiya would have sounded mildly amused, if it wasn’t for the weird, uncharacteristic gravity to his voice. “Unless you want to pierce a lung with the broken rib.”
Arisu cursed, readjusting his grip on the bat, but made no move to actually swing it. Niragi ground his teeth, the anticipation burning in his throat.
“Get on with it, pussy,” he spat.
There was a visible shift in Arisu’s body language. He was clutching the handle so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Then, with a short scream, he swung. Pain burst through Niragi’s side. He doubled over, gasping in a strained breath as a dull pulsing spread in his ribcage. But there was no crack, no sharpness to the pain, no telltale rush of heat.
“Do it again,” he squeezed out.
An utterly horrified “hah?” left Arisu’s mouth.
“You didn’t break a fucking bone, you wimp,” Niragi hissed.
Jaw clenched tight, he straightened up again, staring down at the slightly shorter man. Arisu didn’t meet his eyes.
“Okay,” he breathed.
A few seconds passed as he readied himself. He didn’t scream this time, his face contorted into a horrible, silent determination. The impact was so heavy that it sent Niragi stumbling to the side, the hot, stinging agony instant. He just barely kept himself from crying out in pain, stubbornly biting back the anguish that wanted to tear itself from his throat. Hunched over, one hand gripping his aching side, he waited for the breath to return to his lungs.
“Attack complete,” the voice announced.
It was quiet for a few moments. The blood that was still running from his nose dripped onto the concrete floor. And as Niragi slowly unbent his back for the third time today, it dawned on him just how ridiculous this situation really was. The quiet, manic laughter that began to shake his body burned horribly against his broken ribs. Somewhere at the back of his consciousness, the start of the second round was announced. He gathered himself, wiping a tear of laughter from his eye, a crazed smile still tugging at his lips.
“Oi, Chishiya,” he snickered. “Pick something good.”
Chishiya raised his brows in a wordless question. “Let’s see,” he said calmly. “The current points are… two for myself, one for Kuina, seven for Usagi and three for Arisu.” He turned to look at the others. “To maximize our chances, the three of us should try to catch up to Usagi then, no?”
Niragi rolled his eyes, still clutching his side. “Stop acting smart and pick something.”
Chishiya completely ignored him. “Since Usagi will earn at least one additional point before Arisu’s turn, we’ll have to move up to eight, at least. In that case…”
He considered the options for another moment, then finally made his choice. “Other: fire,” he said in time with the announcement.
“Fun,” Niragi grinned.
The scraping of metal against metal made him cringe as the table opened up to produce a small, black lighter. Without a second of hesitation, Chishiya picked it up and closed the distance between them. Niragi was already beginning to roll up his sleeve, but Chishiya shook his head.
“It has to be on your torso,” he informed him matter-of-factly. “Fifteen seconds. I suggest you take off your shirt.”
Niragi huffed out a bewildered laugh. “Fuck you,” he said, even though it technically wasn’t Chishiya’s fault.
Annoyed, he unbuttoned his black and white giraffe print shirt and shrugged it off. The left side of his ribcage was angrily red and swollen, a bruise already forming from Arisu’s attack. Chishiya flicked on the lighter, the flame dancing menacingly in the air.
“Where do you want it?” he asked.
Niragi shrugged, making it a point to roll his eyes at such an unnecessary question. He sure as hell wasn’t going to show any sort of weakness or fear. He’d been through way worse.
“I don’t give a shit, dumbass. Stop stalling.”
Chishiya let his eyes wander over his skin. “Alright,” he said calmly. “Your chest, then. More muscle tissue. Hurts less, too.”
“Why do you know this crap?” Niragi snorted, licking some of the blood from his lips.
Chishiya shrugged, leaving his question unanswered. Instead, he moved the flickering flame right up to Niragi’s skin, the fire hot enough that he could feel it against his neck and chin. Any remaining curiosity was instantly erased, the searing pain taking over his entire consciousness in the fraction of a second. Chishiya began to count down from fifteen. The fire hungrily ate through his flesh with sharp teeth, a horrible burning spreading across his skin. His jaw was clenched so tightly that it hurt. A pained groan tore its way from his throat. Somewhere around the eight second mark, tears began to blur his vision. He pressed his eyes shut, refusing to let anyone catch a glimpse of them. The horrendous smell of seared flesh stung in his nose.
“Four.”
Niragi tensed every muscle in his body, forcing himself to stay in place and struggling not to scream.
“Three.”
A strangled whimper left his lips.
“Two.”
The burning was so unbearable, there had to be a gaping hole in his chest by now.
“One.”
Had Chishiya’s voice just faltered?
“Zero.”
Niragi backed away instantly, unable to bite back a curse as the flame was finally snuffed out. But the heat remained, continuing to send spikes of pain through his chest as if it had become a permanent part of his flesh.
“Attack complete.”
He shook his head and blinked away those stupid tears. His skin felt sickly with sweat. Meanwhile, Chishiya was already moving back towards his table, hands in his pockets as always.
Niragi resisted the instinct to press a hand against his horribly burning wound as he watched Kuina hesitate to make her choice. The pitying look she gave him crawled its way under his skin, anger clawing at his insides. No one, absolutely no one, was allowed to look at him that way.
“The fuck are you staring at?” he spat.
She pressed her lips into a thin line, something that wasn’t quite frustration crossing over her face. Finally, she made her choice. Blades, again. Thank fuck. But as Kuina read the instructions, she grimaced.
“This sucks,” she breathed.
“What do you need to do?” Usagi asked carefully.
Kuina shook her head and something about the look in her eyes made Niragi’s blood run cold. She hesitantly closed her fingers around the handle of the small push dagger she had been provided.
“Stab the piñata in their torso,” she read out loud. “The weapon must not be removed afterwards.”
Niragi chuckled. “This keeps getting better.”
Kuina gave him a disturbed look. Slowly, she got up and walked until she stood right before him. Her movements were even more hesitant this time. She turned, throwing an imploring gaze Chishiya’s way.
He seemed to give her unasked question some thought. “Technically there isn’t really a safe place to get stabbed,” he explained, “and without anatomical knowledge, you should avoid areas where you might hit an artery or cause permanent damage.” He hummed, a contemplative look on his face, more suited to considering what to eat for dinner than where to stab someone. “Since the blade is short… I would suggest the lower abdomen. Somewhere to the side to avoid the intestines.”
Kuina nodded. “Sorry about-”
“Don’t,” Niragi interrupted her harshly. “I don’t remember asking for your fucking pity.”
She let out a joyless laugh. “You just don’t change, huh? Well. Brace yourself, I guess.”
And with that, she drove the blade into his flesh. He could feel his insides tear apart, a sharp pain shooting through the muscles she’d hit. But it wasn’t nearly as bad as the fire. Kuina let go of the dagger, her fingertips slick with his blood. Niragi drew in a shaky breath, grinning at her as she left.
The game moved on. He was beaten and cut again, the rules getting more specific, but not deviating too significantly. The uppercut Usagi had to deliver had him spitting out more blood. Arisu’s hand was shaking ever so slightly when he had to drag a knife all the way across his torso and he even had the gall to mumble an apology. Niragi felt disgusted at the hypocrisy of it all.
Round two ended with Chishiya at eight points, Kuina at nine and Usagi and Arisu at ten. And despite his various injuries and the goddamn dagger buried in his abdomen, Niragi was beginning to think that maybe, this whole ordeal wasn’t going to be so tough to get through, after all. He wasn’t a stranger to pain and most of the attacks were things he’d experienced before, some more often than he could count. His fear was slowly subsiding. He was in control, he had chosen this of his own free will and everyone else was simply indebted to him for it. This was different from the beatings he’d had to endure back then in the real world. Here, he was the most important person in the room, the one keeping his team alive simply by existing. He was proving once again that he had more power, that everyone else was at his mercy.
This was actually starting to get fun.