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zecretsanta · 3 years ago

Text

FIC

To: @alricspellsword

From: @999-picarat-puzzle

Hello, @alricspellsword ! I’m your Santa this year. :)

I really liked your prompt of Hongou as Scrooge from A Christmas Carol, so I decided to write a fic based on that prompt. I hope you like it!

Happy holidays — and if you celebrate Christmas, then merry Christmas too! :D

[Spoilers for 999, including its Q&A]

Prompt: Christmas Carol: Hongou Scrooge, Aoi and Light ghost of christmas past, Seven and Lotus ghost of christmas present, Akane and mini Akane ghost of christmas future.

Possible sensitive topics/trigger warnings: Poverty, school bullying, Gordain’s game and the Nonary Game, suicide. Also swearing, but I guess that’s a given, considering Aoi’s part of the story lol.

Chapter I: A phantasmagorical being

It was a cold and misty Christmas Eve morning. Gentarou Hongou, CEO of a small medical company named Cradle Pharmaceuticals, walked through the city’s streets wrapped in his warmest coat as he headed towards the company’s headquarters. To be fair, the so-called ‘headquarters’ were a normal apartment he had bought and remodelled to use as an office and a clinic, but he liked calling it ‘headquarters’ anyway, since it made it seem like an important company.

He stopped in front of the building, got his keys from his coat pocket and opened the door. Hongou took the elevator to the third floor and entered his office. He turned on the light switch and a blueish-white light illuminated the place.

As usual, Hongou was the first one there. He checked his phone and saw a message from his coworker — his only employee, an idiot with an awkward personality who responded to the name ‘Teruaki Kubota’, would come around an hour later. He huffed. When Kubota had first asked him if he could start work later some days, since his mother was sick and apparently he needed to take care of her, Hongou had rolled his eyes. But after Kubota’s earnest insistence, he had reluctantly agreed, if only just so he would shut up.

He shook his head and hung his coat on the rack he had in his office. He sat at his desk, booted his computer and decided to start working straight away. The Nonary Project wouldn’t prepare itself, after all, and if Kubota was so keen on slacking off, someone would have to get the work done.

A few hours later, the front door creaked open and his coworker stepped into the office.

“You’re late,” said Hongou with his eyes fixed on the medical file in front of him.

“I— I know, sir. My apologies, I— I had a bit of a problem, and the traffic was pretty bad, and—”

“Spare me the details, Kubota,” he spat. “I don’t care why you’re late, just start working right now.”

The employee — a lanky man with messy hair and ever-crooked glasses — bowed awkwardly and sprinted to his office.

“Un— understood, Mr. Hongou!”

“Tsk.” He shook his head. “Some work ethic you have.”

Hongou went back to the file he had been reading before Kubota had walked into the office.

Name: Akane Kurashiki

DOB: 2006/02/17

Description of the experiment: The subject and her brother were placed in different rooms. The subject was then shown different shapes and numbers, and her sibling, who had been unable to contact her during the experiment, was later asked which shapes and numbers were shown to the subject.

Results: The subject performed exceptionally well and was able to transmit information about each and every one of the shapes and numbers to her sibling. Potential candidate for the Nonary Project.

With a pleased smile, Hongou looked up her sibling’s name — apparently, it was ‘Aoi’ — and added his name to the list of candidates for the Nonary Game. He wrote his name under the “Receiver” section. Then, he added Akane’s name to the “Transmitter” section.

Or he would have, had he not been interrupted by someone knocking on the door. Puzzled, he got up from his chair and opened it.

Two young girls with raven black hair stood in front of the door, bundled up in identical, fluffy green coats.

“Merry early Christmas, mister!” said both of them in unison, as if they had rehearsed their greeting countless times.

“What is it? I don’t have the time for chit-chat, kids, what do you want?”

The girl on the right spoke.

“Our school is collaborating with a charity to feed the poor this Christmas, would you like to make a donation?”

“No. Now if you excuse me, I have work to do.”

Before any of the girls could react, he closed the door and went back to his chair. “Feed the poor”? Bah, he had been there before, and he hadn’t needed Christmas donations. He had managed to pay his debt by skillfully winning Gordain’s game. They could perfectly pay their debts if they really wanted to.

It was then that he realized he had been interrupted just when he was about to add Akane’s name to the list, so he wrote her name in the “Receiver” group.

Hoping he wouldn’t be interrupted again, he opened another file — one about a ‘Light Field’ — expecting that it would be of use for his project.

“It’s�� it’s getting late, sir. I will be heading home now.”

Hongou took a brief look at his wristwatch. It was past 9 p.m.

“Ah, I must have been so absorbed with work that I missed the time, haha. Very well, then. See you tomorrow.”

“Actually… I, uh, wanted to ask if I could— if I could take a— a free day.”

“A… free day?” said Hongou, as if it was his first time hearing about the concept. “What are you talking about, Kubota?”

“It’s— it’s Christmas, sir.” The man rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “My mother… she— she wants to celebrate Christmas, and— and she asked if you wanted— if you wanted to have dinner with us.”

“So… you’re asking if you can take a free day… and if I want to join you two for dinner? Did I hear that correctly?”

“Y— yes, sir.”

Hongou got up from his chair and gestured to his desk, which was filled to the brim with papers and notes.

“With all this work to do?”

“I— I’ll come a bit earlier the next day to make up for it!” pleaded the man.

Hongou sighed and shook his head. He knew he couldn’t change Kubota’s mind. That lazy good-for-nothing, he thought.

“Very well, then. I want you here at 6 o’clock on the dot on the 26th. Not even a minute later, or I’ll have to reduce your paycheck for this month. Understood?”

Kubota nodded frantically. “Yes! And about the dinner— uh—”

“I’m afraid I won’t be joining you. I need to keep working on the project, you see.”

“Ah…” Kubota seemed slightly disappointed. “Alright. If you— if you change your mind, please let me know. Until— until tomorrow, or— or the day after that,” he added, as he walked through the door.

Hongou simply shook his head as Kubota left. He turned off his computer, grabbed his coat from the rack and put it on before walking outside.

A few minutes later, Hongou stepped into his apartment, locking the front door behind him. He took off his shoes, went to his bedroom and changed into his pyjamas.

Just as he was about to finally lay in bed, close his eyes and fall asleep, he heard a clinking noise, as if someone was dragging some heavy metallic object over the floor of his apartment.

“What the hell…?”

He opened his bedroom door and found himself face to face with an old man wearing a tuxedo and a top hat. His ankles and wrists were shackled, and he was dragging heavy chains as he walked.

“Hongou…”

Hongou recognized the man, or more specifically, his voice. It had been almost two decades since he had last seen him, but he could never forget that voice.

It was Lord Dashiell Gordain.

The same Dashiell Gordain who had been dead for 18 years.

Thinking he was dreaming — he had to be dreaming — Hongou rubbed his eyes. The phantasmagorical being didn’t disappear. Slowly walking towards him, Hongou reached out with his arm and found himself horrified at the fact that his hand could go through the man. He retracted his hand and stared at it for a while.

“Hongou, we need to talk.”

“How— how are you…?”

“Listen to me, I don’t have much time. It’s important.”

“How can you be here? And why are you… dragging…” he gestured to the chains the man was carrying “…all that?”

“I made many mistakes during my life, and as such, I must pay for the rest of eternity. And that’s why I’m here, Hongou. To help you avoid your fate.”

“My… fate?”

“You will end up like me if you don’t change.”

Hongou laughed. It was ridiculous. He was surely hallucinating all this, he just needed to go back to bed and—

Lord Gordain grabbed him by his shoulders and shook him. The chains hanging from his wrists collided against Hongou’s arms, and he grimaced in pain.

“Listen to me, Hongou! You can still be saved!”

Still having a hard time believing the situation was real, Hongou asked, “What… what do I need to do?”

“You will be visited by 6 ghosts in the next few hours. Listen to their advice and you won’t end up like me.”

“Six ghosts, huh?” He was still not convinced, but he decided to play along.

“They will come in groups of two, and each group will visit you for one hour,” said the old man. “You can expect the first pair to come by 1 a.m. tonight. Hopefully you can change your fate before it’s too late. Please, don’t end up like this old man.” Gordain gestured towards his chains, as if to emphasize his statement.

Hongou nodded. What else was he supposed to do? “Very well. I appreciate your concern, sir.”

“Good. Have a good night, young man. And make sure to listen to the six ghosts.”

Gordain tipped his hat in a polite farewell gesture and continued walking through the corridor. Once he reached the end of the hallway, he went through the wall — chains included — and disappeared, leaving Hongou standing in the hallway all alone.

Chapter II: The Ghosts of Christmas Past

Still confused by the whole situation, Hongou went back to bed. Six ghosts? What was going on?

He checked the kitchen, in case he had left the gas valve from the heating system open and he was suffering the effects of carbon monoxide poisoning. Nothing. It was closed.

Then what possible explanation could there be for what he had just witnessed? Was he going insane? Was he so tired he was imagining things?

Yes, that had to be it. He was exhausted, and a good night of sleep would solve that. It definitely would.

He went back to bed, pulled the covers over himself and closed his eyes, trying his best to fall into a slumber.

But then he started feeling uncomfortable laying on his back, so he turned around to lay on his side. And then the pillow was uncomfortably warm, so he had to turn it around. And had his pyjamas always been that stiff? Not to mention his throat was dry.

For what felt like an eternity, he tossed and turned on his bed, unable to fall asleep. And then, the bell in the clock tower nearby chimed once. One o’clock, thought Hongou. Just in time for the first alleged “ghost appearance”.

A bang on the door made him almost jump from the bed. With shaky legs, he closed the distance between him and his front door.

Surprisingly, when he arrived, the door was already open, despite the fact that he remembered locking it when he had arrived home. Two men stood before him — a tall individual with silky grey hair that cascaded down his shoulders and another one with short, spiky white hair. The grey-haired man was wearing an elegant, blue jacket over a white shirt, while the other man was wearing a white tank top, as if it wasn’t the middle of December.

Such an interesting pair, he thought.

“Merry Christmas, motherfucker!” said the white-haired man.

“Who are you?”

“Why, isn’t it obvious? I’m Santa Claus.” The man crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m bringin’ coal to you, since you’ve been an asshole this year—”

The other man cleared his throat. “Please excuse Aoi’s behavior,” he said. “My name is Light. We are the Ghosts of Christmas Past.”

The Ghosts of Christmas Past. So they were indeed the ghosts Lord Gordain had been talking about.

“Why are you here?”

“To take you on a journey through your past.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” muttered Aoi. “We’re the Ghosts of Christmas Past for a reason.”

“Well, he did ask. I felt like I had to answer.”

“Would you… would you mind waiting here, gentlemen?” said Hongou. He was eager to get away from the two men. “I should get dressed, you see—”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary.”

Light snapped his fingers and in the blink of an eye, they were in what seemed to be a schoolyard. Hongou looked around wide-eyed, completely lost.

“How did we—?”

Light changed the subject.

“Does this place look familiar to you?”

Upon further inspection, Hongou realized that he did know the place. The benches in the yard, the rusty swingset, the oak tree… There was no doubt about it, that was the elementary school he used to attend as a child.

A group of children ran past them, chasing after a boy who was kicking a ball. Suddenly, Hongou felt very underdressed.

“Can they… can they see us?”

“Nah, don’t worry, we’re invisible right now,” said Aoi. “They can’t see your ugly-ass pyjamas, if that’s what you were worried about.”

He was indeed worried about his clothes, but he made no comments about it.

“Now, let’s see what we wanted ya to see, okay?”

They walked towards the oak tree. A young boy, around ten years old, was sitting on his own on one of the benches near the tree, swinging his legs back and forth. He was reading an anatomy book, completely oblivious to the older boy who was sneaking up behind him with malicious intent.

In the span of a second, the older boy snatched the book from the kid’s hands and started turning the pages in a bored fashion.

“Hey! Give that back!”

The child jumped from the bench and tried to get his book back, but the older — and therefore taller — boy simply lifted the book so he couldn’t reach it.

“Does this ring a bell, Mr. Hongou?” said Aoi.

“It does. That is me,” he answered.

The younger child kept jumping in a futile attempt at getting his book back, and the older boy broke in laughter.

“Give it back or I’ll tell the teachers!”

“Oh, you’ll tell the teachers? Okay, someone stole your book but… who was it?” The boy changed his voice to a high-pitched one. “Am I Megumi?” He lowered the pitch. “Or maybe I’m Yama?” He changed his voice again — this time, to a nasal tone. “Nah, I’m actually Jun. Sorry for tricking you, Gentarou.”

The scene was all too familiar to Hongou.

“When I was a child…” he recounted, “I used to be bullied by the other children because of my prosopagnosia. They would mock me by changing their voices and clothing so I was unable to recognize them.”

He used to wonder what emotions looked like. Granted, he had read about plenty of those in books, but he had been unable to see anything of the sort with his own eyes. His mother always said that his smiling face was so bright that it rivalled the very Sun. He would stand in front of the mirror every so often, trying to see it, but alas, he could never see his face fully — if he concentrated enough, he could recognize an eye, or maybe his nose, but picturing his face as a whole was an impossible task.

“So that’s why… I vowed I would find a cure for my condition. So no one else would suffer as I did.”

They stood in silence for a while, staring at the two children. The younger child was finally able to retrieve his book, and Light broke the silence.

“I think that’s enough of this memory. Now, let’s go to our next destination,” he said. “We still have more things to see.”

“Thank God we’re leaving, it’s freezing in here. I’m gonna turn into a fuckin’ ice cube at this rate.”

Light crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. “This is why I told you to bring a jacket, Aoi.”

“You ever heard about this little thing called ‘fashion’, Einstein?”

“Yes. And I do believe jackets are part of what is deemed as ‘fashion’,” he retorted.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake—”

Hongou growled. He was not in the mood to hear the two ghosts bickering. “Can we just get to our destination and forget about this topic? Complaining will do us no good.”

“You are absolutely right. Let’s leave.”

Hongou blinked as Aoi snapped his fingers, and when he next opened his eyes, he was standing in a warm room. A small Christmas tree with few decorations adorned the place, which appeared to be the living room of a house.

“This is… my childhood home.”

“Yup.��

Beside the tree, there was a dining table with a few candles illuminating the room. A woman in her forties sat at the table, gripping a rosary with both hands as she sobbed. She kept on murmuring what seemed to be a prayer.

“Why is my mother crying? What happened? I don’t remember—”

Hongou was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. His mother snapped her head toward the sound and got up from her seat.

“Gentarou? Is that you?” she said.

A younger Hongou walked through the door and the woman ran to him, pulling him into a tight embrace.

“It’s a miracle!” she cried. “A Christmas miracle! Where were you, dear? You’ve been missing for three days!”

“It’s alright, Mama. I’m fine. We won’t ever be in need of money anymore,” said the teenager.

The woman let go of him to look straight into Gentarou’s eyes.

“What are you talking about, dear?”

Oh, so that was it, thought Hongou. This must be the time when I won Gordain’s game.

He clearly remembered the three days he had spent in that damned ship. He remembered being kidnapped after school and waking up in a ship, surrounded by seventeen more people. He remembered his fellow participants dying and killing one another in hopes of winning the grand prize — one billion yen. His people skills and intelligence had saved him, and as such, he became the sole winner of the game.

Gentarou told his mother the story, and she raised both hands to her face in horror.

“You were in such a dangerous situation? Oh my God, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I couldn’t—”

“Don’t be sorry, Mama. We’ll be fine,” said the boy, hugging his mother once again. “We’ll be fine,” he repeated. He didn’t know whether he was trying to convince his mother or himself.

Hongou blinked a few times, trying to hold back tears. His mother had died on Christmas day, ten years after Gordain’s game, and he missed her. She was the only person who treated him like a human being despite his prosopagnosia throughout his childhood. The only person who had ever loved him despite his flaws. And she was gone.

“I believe it’s time to leave,” said Light.

No, thought Hongou. Please, let me stay here. I don’t want to leave her again. Please.

Hongou wondered whether he said that out loud or not, because Light added “I’m sorry, but we must leave. You still have two more visits left.”

Hongou tried to reach for his mother, but before he could even move, they were back in his bedroom. He plopped onto the bed and stared wistfully at the wall.

“Well, our time’s up, man,” said Aoi. “We gotta leave before the Ghosts of Christmas Present come.”

“Indeed. It has been a pleasure to guide you through your past. I sincerely hope you realize your mistakes before it’s too late for you.”

“And if you don’t, well… then I hope you rot in prison. Or burn in Hell. Or whatever.”

And as if they had rehearsed it beforehand, the two ghosts bowed politely before disappearing into the darkness of the night.

Chapter III: The Ghosts of Christmas Present

Hongou kept staring at the wall for what felt like an eternity, lost in his thoughts.

What had been the point of all of that? Making him relive his awful childhood? Opening that old wound that had been his mother’s death? How could all of that have anything to do with his future?

He was tempted to go to bed and completely ignore the next appearance, but then, the bell from the clock tower chimed again.

One time…

Two times…

Hongou waited for a few seconds, but it seemed like the bell had gone silent for good. It was two in the morning. Just in time for the next set of ghosts.

A bright light blinded him momentarily, and when he opened his eyes again, the ghosts were standing right in front of him.

A black-haired woman with a belly dancer top and a gigantic man with yellow overalls stood in the middle of his room. Somehow, the pair was even more eccentric than the previous one, but Hongou made no comments about it.

“Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas, Hongou!” said the man in the overalls with a merry laugh. “You can call me Seven.”

“Wait,” said the woman, turning around to face her companion. “What kind of name is that?”

“Dunno, I just don’t feel comfortable sharin’ my name with this guy, y’know?”

“So you’re going to use an alias?”

“Uh… yeah.”

“Well, then I’m not sharing my real name either!”

Hongou sighed. “What should I call you, then?”

The woman raised her hand to her chin, deep in thought. “Hmm… how about Lotus?”

“A beautiful flower, I see,” answered Hongou. It was not like he could see her, but women loved compliments, right?

“Unlike her,” joked Seven under his breath.

“Why, you—!”

The woman swung her fist towards Seven’s face. By the sound it made, Hongou was certain it would leave a noticeable bruise in the near future. The giant massaged his jaw with a huff.

“Woah, you’re a fiery one, arentcha?”

“Tsk.” She turned to Hongou and continued their introduction. “Like I was about to say before we changed the topic, we are the Ghosts of Christmas Present.”

“I assume you’re here to show me my present?”

“No presents for ya, buddy. You’ve been naughty this year.”

“Not that kind of present.”

“He’s not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed, please forgive him,” said Lotus, waving her hand in disdain. Seven grunted in response. “But yes, you are right, we will be showing you what’s going on this Christmas.”

Lotus extended her hand towards Hongou. He took it and, in an instant, they were transported to the interior of a small house. An elderly woman sat on a cushion in front of a lit chimney, stretching her hands towards the fire to get some warmth.

“Mum, do you— do you need anything else?”

Hongou’s eyes widened at the familiar voice. Kubota stepped into the room holding two cups of tea. He handed one cup to his mother and took a seat beside her.

“Ah, thank you, honey. It wasn’t necessary.”

“I know. It’s just that I don’t want you to— to overexert yourself, since you’ve been fairly sick this past week.”

“But I’m feeling much better now! Please, do not worry for me, I’ll be fine.”

Kubota nodded slowly and took a sip from his cup.

“By the way,” said the mother, “did you ask your boss to join us for dinner tomorrow?”

“Mr. Hongou? Yes, but he— he said he wouldn’t be coming. He wants to keep working.”

“On Christmas day?”

“Yes.”

“My, such an interesting fellow, isn’t he?”

Kubota sighed. “I don’t— I don’t really like him much, to be honest. The Nonary Project seems… wrong. I don’t know all the details but— but it’s giving me a bad feeling. I wish I could find a better job.”

“Then why do you keep working for him, honey?”

Kubota looked around the room. “It’s just… we have— we have nothing else, Mum. I barely get enough money to pay rent. And I can’t—” he hiccuped, “I can’t seem to find another job.” He gripped his hair in frustration. “I’ve been to countless interviews and I didn’t get accepted for— for any of the jobs! What am I doing wrong?!”

He broke into sobs, and his mother wrapped her arms around his scrawny torso.

“There, there.” She patted his back softly. “I know you’ll eventually get out of this. We will get out of this. Together.”

Kubota gripped her mother’s dress and cried onto her shoulder. “I wish I could earn more money to repay all the— all the things you’ve done for me. It’s what you deserve. But alas…”

His mother gently grabbed his face and ran her thumb over his cheek.

“It’s alright. Having you around is worth more than all the money in the world. As long as you’re with me and we’re healthy, then I’ll be happy. So don’t look so grim, Teruaki. It’s Christmas Eve, after all.”

Hongou held back tears. A small, old home. A sickly, single mother taking care of her only child. The ever-looming threat of not knowing if you would be able to pay that month’s rent, or afford to put some food on the table.

The scene was all too familiar to him. And he was partially at fault for it.

“I think we’ve seen enough from these two.” Seven’s booming voice brought him back to reality. “Let’s see Christmas from a happier point of view.”

And so, they travelled to different places and saw different families celebrating Christmas in their own special way.

A single mother watching cheesy Christmas films with her twin daughters after helping at the food bank.

A young girl excitedly guiding her blind brother to the Christmas tree, under which their parents had put their presents while they weren’t paying attention.

A white-haired boy leaving the presents under the tree as his younger sister slept soundly beside the tray of cookies she had left for Santa.

A kid opening his presents and jumping in delight after finding out Santa had brought him the videogame his friend Kanny had said she wanted to try someday.

A lonely detective staring at the enormous Christmas tree in front of the town hall as it snowed.

Different people from different backgrounds, all united through the joy of Christmas.

“Christmas is such a nice holiday, isn’t it?” said Lotus with a dreamy voice.

“Yup,” Seven agreed. “Gotta love the decorations and the delicious food.”

“And don’t forget family gatherings! I love getting to spend time with my girls.”

“Eh, I’d rather spend it on my own, but I guess everyone likes different stuff.”

Hongou stood there, watching the two ghosts conversing happily about the joy of Christmas. To be honest, he hadn’t been able to enjoy it since his mother’s death, but he had to admit their arguments were sound. Perhaps he would be able to enjoy Christmas again someday. Hopefully in a not-so-distant future, after the Nonary Project was completed.

“Hey, you’ve been pretty quiet, man. Guess you’re not the talkative type, huh?” said Seven, patting Hongou in the back. “Anyway, it’s gettin’ late. Our job here is done.”

“Right,” said Lotus. “It’s almost time for the final two ghosts to visit you. We should leave.”

Hongou nodded in understanding. “Very well, then. May you two have a good night.”

Just like when they first appeared, a bright light took over the place, and when Hongou was able to see again, he was back in his room, completely alone.

Chapter IV: The Ghosts of Christmas Future

After the previous appearances, Hongou realized that trying to fall asleep would be useless, so he decided to wait for the last two ghosts.

Lying awake on his bed, he wondered what kind of future awaited him. Lord Gordain had told him it was a grim one, but could it really be that bad?

As he stared at the ceiling, three chimes echoed on the cold night.

It’s time.

A hissing sound got Hongou’s attention. He got up from his bed to find out white smoke was coming from under his bed, clouding his room and preventing him from seeing what was going on. He put his sleeve over his mouth and nose to avoid breathing the gas.

“Who’s there?” he coughed.

The voice that answered didn’t sound human. Instead, it was deep and distorted, as if it was going through a voice changer. A chill ran through Hongou’s spine.

“We are the Ghosts of Christmas Future,” said the voice.

The smoke eventually dissipated enough to let Hongou see the ghosts, and he instinctively took a step back in fear.

In front of him stood a person wearing a black robe. The ghost’s face was covered by a gas mask, and a few strands of chestnut hair cascaded over the person’s chest from under the cloak.

“You can call me Zero,” said the figure.

“I… I thought there would be two of you coming.”

“And you are right.”

A smaller person appeared from behind Zero. A young girl with brown hair and a pink sweater peeked from behind the masked ghost, clutching Zero’s cloak with trembling hands.

“What is your name, little one?” asked Hongou as gently as possible to avoid scaring the child any more than she already was.

She stepped aside so she wasn’t hiding behind Zero anymore. She fiddled with her sweater’s sleeves in discomfort. “Akane. My name is Akane Kurashiki.”

Akane Kurashiki. Interestingly, her name matched one of the potential candidates for the Nonary Game. He wondered if it was a coincidence.

“Very well then, Akane.” He turned his attention to Zero, since the girl seemed a bit shy. “May I ask where we are going this time?”

“You will see soon,” said Zero.

The building they found themselves in was one that Hongou had never seen before. It looked like a normal office, covered from top to bottom with Christmas decorations.

The desks nearby had little snowflake-shaped stickers adorning them. Red and golden chains with pearls and little bells hung from the walls, and in the places where there weren’t any bells, there were decorations with the words “Merry X-Mas!” in sparkly red letters. A medium-sized Christmas tree shone with white and yellow LED lights that twinkled with such strength that it was almost headache-inducing. There was even a small Santa Claus by the entrance that laughed merrily in a mechanical voice.

And yet, despite the Christmas decorations, the place sent chills down Hongou’s spine for some unknown reason.

“What is this place?” wondered Hongou.

“The place in itself is not important. What really matters is what we’re going to see,” said Zero. “Look over there.”

The figure pointed to a nearby desk. A woman with short black hair and dark skin sat at the table, while a girl with pink hair stood beside her.

“So he’s dead, then?” asked the pink-haired girl with a flat voice.

“It would seem so.” The woman bit her nail. “We had him in almost constant surveillance, but he managed to kill himself anyway.”

A tense silence took over the room. Hongou rubbed his arms — it was almost as if the last part of the statement had decreased the temperature of the room by ten degrees.

“Is it… is it normal that I don’t feel anything? I mean, instead of sad or angry I’m just… relieved? Does that even make sense?”

“It’s a completely normal response, Clover. That man kidnapped you and Light when you were children, and you two have had to deal with years of trauma because of him,” she said. “It’s no wonder you only feel relief after he’s dead. I would personally be drinking the most expensive champagne I could get my hands on to celebrate, if I were in your shoes.”

Hongou had no idea who was the man they were talking about, but he seemed to be an awful person, if people were so relieved to see he was dead.

“Let’s go to another room to get a bit more context on the situation, alright?” said Zero.

They took a nearby corridor and, after a few turns, found themselves in front of a coffee machine covered up by even more snowflake stickers. A woman and an enormous man stood beside the machine with steamy cups in their hands. But that was not what surprised Hongou the most — he knew them. They were the same people who had visited him hours prior, the Ghosts of Christmas Present.

“Guess it’s over, huh?” said Seven.

“At least he paid for what he did,” said Lotus, staring at the floor and gripping her mug of black coffee with both hands as if her life depended on it. “And he cannot hurt anyone anymore. I’m satisfied, even if it’s not exactly how I expected things to turn out.”

“Uh-huh.” Seven took a sip from his coffee.

They had been in two different rooms and Hongou still had no idea who had died.

“May I ask who they are talking about?” he said. “We’ve seen four people so far talking about this man, but I still don’t know who he is.”

“Let’s find out, shall we?”

Zero gestured towards a door at the end of the corridor. They went into the room — more specifically, a private office — only to find the Ghosts of Christmas Past were there, too.

Aoi was sitting at the desk, with both hands on his head in what appeared to be a fit of frustration. Light sat solemnly in the chair in front of Aoi.

“I cannot believe that bastard offed himself. Didn’t think he’d have the guts to do it.”

“It’s understandable, if you think about it,” said Light, as if he was thinking out loud. “He was going to be imprisoned for the rest of his life after his involvement in the Nonary Project and Kubota, Nijisaki and Musashidou’s deaths, and he had nothing else to live for, if his speech after the Second Nonary Game was any indicative.”

Kubota is dead? ‘Involvement in the Nonary Project’? ‘Second Nonary Game’? What the hell are they talking about?

“Still. It sucks that he took the easy way out, you know?” said Aoi. “I wanted him to suffer a bit more. He burnt Akane alive, for fuck’s sake,” he spat.

Akane inched closer to Zero, and the woman ran her hand through the girl’s hair in a soothing gesture.

“I know. I wish Hongou had suffered a bit longer too.”

It was as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice cold water over Hongou.

He was dead.

And the only negative feelings people had over his death were the regret over the fact that he deserved to live so he could suffer some more.

“No. No. This isn’t— this isn’t right—”

“So,” said Zero, “this is your future, Hongou.”

“Nonsense!” he roared. “Why am— why am I so hated? How did I even end up in prison?!”

“Why are you so surprised? You’re planning to kidnap multiple children and put them in danger to test the morphogenetic field theory.”

“But—”

“Do you really want to know what will happen, Hongou?” said Zero. “You will kill an innocent child in the Nonary Game. She will then orchestrate another Nonary Game with you as a participant, and you will be sent to prison for killing three different people, including your current coworker. And then… well, you’ve heard the rest.”

It was too much to handle. It had to be a lie, or a sick joke. It was too ridiculous to be true.

“Wait a minute! How can she orchestrate another Nonary Game if she’s dead?”

“Because she needs that Second Nonary Game to ensure her survival in the first one.”

“How the hell does that make sense?!”

“She will be unable to solve the incinerator puzzle on her own, so she will need to access the morphogenetic field to contact someone from the future. Someone who will also be playing the same game as her. So as long as she orchestrates the Second Nonary Game in the future, she will be able to survive the First Nonary Game in the past. A bootstrap paradox, if you’re familiar with the term.”

No way, there’s no way—

His voice quavered. “How do you… how do you know all this?”

Zero removed her cloak, letting her long brown hair cascade over her back. She then took off her mask, and Hongou expected to be greeted with another blank slate, another faceless being.

What he got instead was a pair of purple eyes staring right into his soul, a thin nose, and glossy lips.

“Because I am that child.”

Hongou took a few steps back. It was impossible.

“How…?! How is this…?!”

“This is what you wanted all along, wasn’t it?” She took a step towards Hongou. “Well, this is what you earned. You’ll cure your prosopagnosia with the morphogenetic field, but you’ll pay your freedom — and eventually, your life — as the price. Congratulations,” she said, mockingly.

Was this what he had yearned for so long? To see human faces?

No, this was not what he had wanted. He had wanted to see happiness: the way people’s mouths contorted into grins, the way their eyes squinted in gleeful delight, just like he had read in books so many times.

Not this. Not Zero’s eyebrows twitching into a frown while her mouth contorted into a mocking, disgusting smile.

His legs went weak and he fell to his knees. He barely felt any pain from hitting them against the cold marble floor. The only thing he could think of was his future demise.

He was going to end up in prison. He was going to kill people. How had he stooped so low? What would his dear mother think of him?

Crawling his way to the woman, Hongou gripped her cloak with both hands. “Please! Please tell me! How can I avoid this fate?! I can’t— I can’t end up like— like this!” he pleaded.

“It’s simple,” she said. “Abandon the Nonary Project and repent.”

The Nonary Project. Ever since he was a child, he had wanted to see faces, to recognize people the same as everyone else did. He had wanted to be able to see happiness, love, laughter. Everything he had done, he had done it to achieve normalcy and help others like him.

Had he been wrong all along? Had he mistakenly thought that curing his prosopagnosia was a good thing?

As if she could read his thoughts, Akane, who had been silent all along, chimed in, “It’s not that your motives weren’t pure. I know that you wanted to help others. You just have to create a better world without sacrificing innocent people in the process.”

Still on his knees, Hongou turned his head towards the child.

“But how… after all I’ve planned to do, how am I going to…?”

“Soporil-β.”

“What?”

“You inherited the Gigantic, didn’t you?” said the child. “Inside of All-Ice’s coffin, there’s a special mandrake root that can be used to create anesthetic — an anesthetic that you called Soporil-β in another history. It’s incredibly effective and will have almost no side effects, so it will become universal and Cradle’s stocks will skyrocket.”

“Another history? What are you talking about? How do you know all of this?”

She giggled and, despite being unable to see the child’s face, he knew her smile was genuine. “Didn’t we tell you? We’re the ghosts of Christmas Future. We can see what’s yet to come. All the possible outcomes.”

Soporil-β. Could this be what he needed to change his life? Akane had said his company’s stocks would increase after its creation. Maybe he could use all that money for good. Researching non-harming treatments for prosopagnosia, for instance.

He remembered the two girls who had visited him in the morning, asking for money for the poor. Maybe he could also put some of the money earned with Soporil-β in organizations that helped people who needed it most. And raise Kubota’s salary, too.

“I now see I was in the wrong,” he admitted. “I must admit I was so utterly convinced that curing my condition would be good enough that I forgot to take into account the means I intended to use to achieve that end.” He lowered his head in shame. “Thank you for helping me see the truth, Akane. And you too, Zero.”

Zero smiled, but this time, it was a sweet smile. Hongou couldn’t help but smile, too.

Then, a familiar white smoke started to blur Hongou’s vision.

“Our time is up,” said Zero, holding the child’s hand and intertwining their fingers together. “I genuinely hope you commit to changing into a better person, Hongou.”

“I trust you will,” said the child. “Please, remember this. Don’t let me die.”

Hongou’s eyelids started to feel heavy and slowly, he closed his eyes, falling into a deep slumber.

Chapter V: A changed man

The following morning, Hongou found himself lying on his bed. His head hurt, and he rubbed his temples. Had everything been a bad dream?

He got up from his bed and found a note on his nightstand. The handwriting was unfamiliar to him — his own penmanship was much messier in comparison to the elegant cursive from the note.

“Please, don’t forget. — Akane.”

So it wasn’t a dream.

Without even putting his slippers on, he ran to the phone and dialled Kubota’s number. After four tones, a raspy voice answered the call — it seemed like Kubota had just woken up.

“Mr. Hongou? Why are you calling this early? Is— is something the matter?”

“Merry Christmas, Kubota!”

“Huh?”

The man sounded genuinely confused, but Hongou couldn’t blame him in the slightest, to be honest. His change in demeanor had been so abrupt that even Hongou himself was surprised.

Then again, not everyone is visited by six Christmas ghosts and told that they’ll become a murderer and die alone in a dingy cell, so his change of heart wasn’t that unexpected, given the circumstances.

“I simply called to wish you and your mother a merry Christmas day, and to tell you that I will be delighted to join you two this evening, if that’s alright with you.”

There was a momentary silence at the other end of the line. “So you— you accept?”

“Yes. If that’s alright with you,” he repeated.

“Of course it is! Merry Christmas to you too, sir!”

Hongou chuckled.

“By the way, I think I’ve been too harsh to you lately, and I sincerely apologize for that. I’m considering raising your salary as an apology.”

“R— raising my salary?!”

“Would you rather stay as you are?” he joked.

“N— no! It’s not that! It’s just— well, I wasn’t expecting it.”

Another chuckle. “Well, I think you deserve it,” he paused momentarily. “Oh, and also, don’t worry about coming tomorrow to work on the Nonary Project. I’ve changed my mind, and I’ve decided to scrap it.”

“The Nonary Project? But— but why such a sudden change of heart, sir?”

“Let’s just say that I’ve had a… revelation,” he said. “A divine awakening, if you will,” he added.

“I’m not entirely sure I understand what you’re saying but… I’m glad— I’m glad you’ve changed your mind.”

“Me too, Kubota. Me too.”

That same evening, as he walked through the streets on his way to Kubota’s house, Hongou saw a young girl wearing a familiar pink sweater. She turned her head towards him and waved her hand, and even if he couldn’t see her face, he knew she was smiling at him. He smiled fondly and waved back.

He wondered whether she was aware or not that she had changed his life. Perhaps she was, perhaps she wasn’t, but Hongou was grateful for the lesson she had taught him anyway.

Something cold brushed against Hongou’s cheek. Puzzled, he looked up to the sky and realized it was snowing. He stretched the palm of his hand and, as he watched the snow gently fall, he smiled again.

For the first time in years, Christmas didn’t seem like such a bad day.

#submission #zero escape #9 Hours 9 Persons 9 Doors #alricspellsword #999-picarat-puzzle #zecret santa 2021

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