Friends With Benefits | Chishiya x Reader

Chapter Nine

☆ In which you wish every knife was of the butter variety. ☆

The hunter has arrived on your floor. 

You can hear Setsuko's breath hitch as the light-footed hunter makes his way through the cars. His footsteps have not drawn closer to your truck-car just yet and you risk another glance at your phone.

6 minutes.

You pull yourself into a crouching position and motion for Setsuko to do the same. If you do this correctly, the situation could still be in your control. If the hunter makes his way to your side of the floor, where he is still visible but far enough to be out of reach, you could use the opportunity to escape to the lower floors. There is now five minutes left. You could make it. Setsuko would live to see another day, could be one step closer to reuniting with her daughter. 

You are hopeful now, despite the approaching footsteps. You look over your shoulder to gesture to Setsuko, to tell her to make a run for the lower floors when you signal. 

Your eyes meet with the hunter's. 

Your heart stops. Time seems to slow down and flows past your ears like a river, filling your head with the sound of rushing water. The hunter stands, a dark silhouette staring you down a few cars down. His finger trails across the bonnet of a silver Mercedes, creating the eerie screech of glove against metal. He's still far away enough for you to make your escape. You have to run - now is the only chance you have, the perfect window. But your body won't listen to you. You're frozen to the spot and your heart is crashing wildly against your chest. Setsuko notices your panic and follows your gaze. 

She screams. 

Like you knew she would.

The sound of it is enough to jolt you from your terror. "Setsuko, we have to run now." You say urgently, but Setsuko cannot move. She is frozen like you were, immobile due to fear. The hunter is quickly moving closer, relishing the situation. With a flick of his arm a blade the length your arm appears from behind his back. No gun. You could make it.

"Setsuko, think of your daughter," you whisper. Your heart is still clanging in your ribcage, screaming get away get away get away with every heartbeat.  

"You should run," she replies flatly. 

"Setsuko-"

When she looks at you her eyes are filmed with tears, and you finally understand.

"I wish I could see her again," Setsuko says softly. "Just one more time."

Oh.

Setsuko's daughter is dead. 

"I can't find it in me to live anymore," she admits. "I can't do this anymore. I'll be the distraction, right?"  A shimmering tear falls from her cheek and pools on the parking lot concrete. "Please run."

And so you run. 

You don't look back. Not when you hear Setsuko's piercing scream as the hunter's blade cut through her chest, not when you hear her body clatter to the floor with a tinkle of metal rings against grey concrete. Your arm scrapes across the sharp edge of the cement blocks that edge the ramps. You keep running as the blood trickles down your palms, until Game Clear rings across the building and you fall to your knees and gasp for air. 

You made it.

And Setsuko did not. 

The world swims before your eyes. You exhale shakily and pick yourself up from the ground. Blood still runs from the long gash on your arm, but you don't even notice it. Your head is ringing as you stumble up the parking ramps, back to the ninth floor. The truck-car still stands tall, shielding the smatter of blood that collects on the ground behind it. Another body lies further away. You pay it no heed as you crouch next to the blonde woman's body. 

Setsuko lays facing the ceiling, her right arm resting across her stomach. The tips of Setsuko's hair and the shirt she always twisted around her fingers soak up blood. You study her face silently, taking in her soft eyes that are now glassy, her mouth that is now open in a perpetual scream. You lower your gaze to her hands, the rings gifted to her by her daughter that somehow still glitter in the pitch black of the parking lot. Her fingers are slender and graceful, probably used to cut apples for her daughter's lunch or to braid her daughter's hair. Gently, you ease the rings from her fingers and slip them onto your own. You find the ring with the inscription that you couldn't read earlier and bring it closer to inspect it.

The ring is carved with the messy kanji of a sixteen-year-old. It reads, 'I love you, Mum.'

You carefully place the ring back onto Setsuko's index finger and walk away.

Night has fallen by the time you make your way back to the Beach. Out of your earlier group there is only two left, you and the man who is driving the car. You decide he must have been hiding on the top floor - the hunter did not make it anywhere past the ninth floor after killing Setsuko, by the looks of it, as his body was sprawled mere metres away from hers. The seven of Spades rests between your fingertips and the rings you now wore. The gash on your arm throbs merrily.

You're surprised by the lack of feeling you have now, when that pink post-it note brought you near tears not so long ago. The car rumbles as it moves. You rest your head against the car door with your eyes shut, numb to the world. 

Chishiya leans by the door to your room, and his eyes flick towards you as you slowly drag yourself into view. You don't know how he knew where your room was, but you don't question it. He eyes the blood veining rivers down your arm and takes his hands out of his pockets. 

"S' just a scratch," you mumble. The blonde man rolls his eyes and holds the door open for you, then disappears down the hallway. 

He reappears moments later with a medical kit while you slide down the wall. 

"Sit down," he points to the ground. You follow his instructions, not missing the brow he raises when he sees the post-it stuck to your mirror. You're now slumped against the wall and Chishiya takes your arm, his fingertips leaving glowing prints only you can see. 

"Seven of Spades," you answer the question Chishiya did not ask. The antiseptic he applies to your arm stings, and you wince. "There was a big car. It was like a truck but smaller."

He only hums and continues to treat your arm, now wrapping a crisp white bandage around the open wound. You can tell he understands, maybe through the rings you now wear, maybe through the unspoken words hanging thickly in the air, that someone is gone. He does not address it, and neither do you. You lower your gaze to Chishiya's hands as they deftly wind bandage.

"Thank you, Chishiya," you say softly. He gives a dry chuckle.

"Is this not what friends are meant to do?" Chishiya looks up from your arm with a smirk. 

You blink. It takes you a moment to register what he'd just said, as if your brain is wading through mud. A familiar warmth begins to spread through your chest; Chishiya's words burst upon the ground like shooting stars, sparkling lights that reach your face and suddenly you feel the corners of your mouth lift in spite of today. You laugh and reach for his hand with your uninjured arm, which he gives you with a resigned sigh. 

"Did you just admit we're friends?" you tease, and the stars keep collecting in your hand.  

"I have no idea what you're talking about."