#nijiro murakami

[yois2aki]

𝑪𝑯𝑰𝑺𝑯𝑰𝒀𝑨 𝑾𝑰𝑻𝑯 𝑨 𝑭𝑳𝑰𝑹𝑻𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑼𝑺 𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑹

CHISHIYA SHUNTARO X READER (REQUEST)

SUMMARY: chishiya is not very fond of the fact that your habit of flirting with any living being isn't reserved to him and him only.

WARNINGS: fluff, use of y/n once, jealous chishiya, lots of flirting, mentions of drugging someone but it doesn't actually happen, beach arc.

WORD COUNT: 1.1k

"next, y/n is going to enter the..." chishiya abruptly stopped himself in the words to take a moment and stare directly at your eyes. "are you even listening to anything we're saying?"

 

it was late at night, and kuina was fighting for her life to not pass out on the couch of the random, actually clean room you guys were too lucky to find at the beach hotel. chishiya had been spending a bit too much of his time planning and scheming a way of stealing all the cards gained by the members and successfully getting out of this place he dreaded so much.

 

too bad for him, and perhaps kuina, who just wanted to spend a good night of rest for once, was disinterested in his meticulous plans, it seemed. instead, your gaze was fixated on his eyes, but it had been like that for the past five minutes, and he couldn't help but grow skeptical of the way you would barely blink.

 

"your eyes must have distracted me, pretty boy." you couldn't help but let out an inaudible chuckle at the way he just lifted a hand to his temples and sighed, clearly not having the same fun you were.

 

"that one was your worst," kuina commented on the scene, rolling her eyes. at this point, she was already used to your romantic remarks that surged out of nowhere. "at least for today..."

 

"it sounds to me you're just jealous." you ended up winking her way. "would you like some attention as well, kuina?"

 

and that damned smirk stayed on your face for the whole interaction. that was probably it for kuina, consumed by fatigue and a burning headache, she got up, strolling her way to the door. "we aren't doing anything productive anyway."

 

"you're leaving me here with them?" chishiya asked with a nonchalant voice, clearly not caring whether you would get offended by this or not. he seemed just as tired as kuina, and your childish habits, as he would describe them, weren't of much help.

 

you couldn't help but feign surprise, your mouth opening agape but somehow still carrying a teasing smirk. you liked where this was going—and messing with people's heads.

 

"that's on you for arranging our meetings so late at night." and with that, kuina made herself out of the room, looking like she'd pass out in the next five minutes.

 

you would describe your relationship with these two people as a simple one, apart from the occasional flirting that you decided to randomly add on the most sudden occasions. if you admitted that people hadn't already thought you were cheating on one of them after flirting with a stranger during a game, you would be lying. it turns out you were just good with words, and making people flustered was your forte. what made you so attached to these was probably the fact they would only ignore your constant teasing, which led you to just stick around—surely they could benefit from your manipulation tactics. suddenly you had made up a goal in your mind to get some reaction out of them, especially chishiya, since the guy never seemed to be fazed by anything.

 

as your face turned back to chishiya, you straight up noticed he didn't look the happiest, instead getting up and grabbing whatever stuff he brought with him.

 

"where are you going so soon?" there was that demonic voice of yours once again. "also, what did you mean by leaving you alone with me?"

 

you weren't sure why you kept the innocent talk, knowing both of you knew that wasn't your actual intention. you knew chishiya tried his best to ignore your remarks all the time, but he was growing tired of them. and it seemed the tiredness finally got to him, as if his patience wasn't already running thin.

 

"that's none of your business." he sourly replied, his back turned to you as he didn't dare to move away. "tatta's probably still awake; you can go and bother him instead of us."

 

"why are you so mean?" you whined out, relishing the comfort of the couch you were still sitting on. "you would even flirt back when we first met; now you're just grumpy all the time."

 

"after finding out you do it with everyone, it stopped being fun." you could swear that if he had mumbled a tiny bit lower, you wouldn't have heard what he said. perhaps that was his intention, but you had to thank your captive ears.

 

a smile only didn't creep up on your face immediately because you needed a moment to actually understand what he said. but as soon as it did, he knew it was over for him.

 

"chishiya," you jumped from the couch, walking towards him, suddenly forgetting it was way past midnight as you two were having this conversation. "you're jealous!"

 

even though he wasn't physically turned your way, it was easy to see that he let out the longest sigh just by the movement of his shoulders.

 

"go to sleep." he was quick to try and get you to lay down, which obviously didn't work as you weren't able to contain your giggles and chuckles upon finding out about this underground information.

 

he quickly wondered if you had woken up any of the other residents of the beach rooms with all your noises, but was quickly brought away from his thinking line as you abruptly wrapped your arms around his waist and tried to peek at his face through the crook of his neck.

 

"get off me," he commanded with a more certain voice. you were glad he was too consumed by exhaustion to just push you away, giggling in his ear as if you had just found out the most crucial secret of this damned world.

 

"no way." he could feel your warm breath on his cheeks, and against his own will, chishiya felt his heart race. "you could have just told me; I'd have reserved my flirting for you and you only!"

 

chishiya, at a certain point, didn't know if he was supposed to feel flustered, awkward, or tired all at the same time. somehow, he managed to tear you away to get some sleep, as in, away from you. what he was certain of was that you were never seen again flirting with anyone other than the man himself. even kuina felt skeptical of it and how things changed so much after a simple night.

 

"how come they stopped trying to faze me?" kuina interrogated Chishiya on another day, standing next to chishiya while playing with her dummy cigarette. "not that i miss it, but after last week, they've been weirdly... sane?"

 

at that, chishiya let out a small chuckle as they both stared endlessly at your back. "i gave them some drugs."

 

"huh?!"

A/N: aaaah i finally posted something new... i took a little bit of my time to write this bc i didn't want to leave my requests full.... i still have some to get to so i hope u guys are patient ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ also i changed themes bc i can never stick to something for too long, hope u guys liked it !!!

[j-jinxee]

[ ⟡​ ] — KEEP QUIET,,

NSFW under the cut! ⊹ Nijiro x Reader

[warnings — quickie, p in v, unprotected, swearing, cumming inside, semi public]

-,' syn – Nijiro needs an outlet for his adrenaline. Shooting fight scenes as Kazutora and then having to wait for others to shoot theirs, it's throwing him off more than usual tonight.

[AN] no cuz guys, Nijiro literally never shows his arms. Like bro is always wearing long sleeves, jackets, or yk just baggy shirts in general. So this 40 second clip of him (where he's literally just in his own little world on the TR set) WEARING A SINGLET like I can't deal fr, I feel like a Victorian man seeing a woman's ankles for the first time, like it's driving me up the wall.

─────

"mm-ngh! Niji, fuck" your small whines were quickly silenced by Nijiro's hand covering your mouth. He had previously swept you away from the set, you weren't acting in the Tokyo Revengers movie but since your boyfriend was, you watched from behind the camera with the rest of the crew. It was so cool seeing your boyfriend in his element, you usually weren't allowed to be with the crew since you don't actually work for them, but the TR production was pretty laid back and let you stay to watch. Which is what you were doing, until about 5 minutes ago.

Nijiro was frustrated with the way they were filming. Usually they'd film a single characters scenes all at once, so they wouldn't have their actors coming on and off constantly, but for some reason they changed it for tonight. The night where Nijiro had to film his biggest fight scene.

It was really pissing him off, the way he'd get fully committed to the character, and then be told to go off and take 5 because they needed to shoot someone else. Why would they change the formula? It was perfect the way it was, now the production will suffer.

And above all else, Nijiro was told to take 5 right when his adrenaline would reach its peak. Naturally, he needed an outlet, a way to keep his energy up. Luckily, his favourite thing to put his energy into was standing right infront of him.

"keep quiet f'me baby.." he whispered, gently covering your mouth with his hand. The only lighting in the bathroom being from the dim street lamps outside, increasing the secretive atmosphere. You were pinned against the bathroom wall as Niji buried himself in your cunt, practically imprinting his shape into your walls. Your eyes travelled down to his arms, fuck. You mentally thank the costume team for finally getting Nijiro to wear a singlet, he never wore shirts that showed off his arms, so you made sure to remember this session over the rest. His sweat gleamed in the faint warm light, decorating his neck and collarbones, your eyes fixated on his fake neck tattoo. Fuck, you'd have to convince him to cosplay or something after this, the sight mixed with the pleasure he gave you was making your head spin.

His arms and shoulders flexed with each thrust as he held you up by your thighs, fucking into you like this was the last time he'd ever get. It took everything in you not to scream out his name, along with a nicely crafted string of cuss words, letting everyone hear how good he fucks you. Small whimpers were the most you could let out, not wanting Niji to get punished for having a quickie mid set.

"You're so good f'me... fuck baby" His voice was intoxicating, his touch made you feel ways you've never felt before. Your arms rested over his shoulders, not that they needed to — his strong hold kept you up with no issue. You were sure that if he fucked you any harder, you'd end up bringing down the wall you were currently pinned up against. He felt the need to groan louder, feeling it build — his mouth soon found your neck, sucking on your sweet spots, only bringing you closer to the edge.

You felt Nijiro's hips stutter, followed by his teeth digging into your skin a little harder than before.

"m-mmh cum, cum with me baby" His hot breath laced your jawline as he rutted into you faster than ever. Feeling that familiar knot in your stomach about to snap, you couldn't stay silent anymore.

"mmh- cumming.. cummingcummingcummi- ahh!" You cried into his neck. Shortly met with the feeling of your walls being painted by Niji's hot white seed, filling you up, keeping you warm. You could swear you saw heaven for a second, his touch made you drunk, reaching a state of euphoria you could never get anywhere else.

His arms gently let you back down, still keeping you steady with your bodies pressed together as you could barely stand. Whispering sweet praises in your ear as his hand went down to fuck his cum back into you, not letting any leak out. You smiled weakly as his words laced your eardrums, almost forgetting he was in the middle of his job.

"Nijiro! Wherever you are, you're back on in two." The director shouted.

"Fuck, 'm sorry baby. I'll take care of you when we're home ok? I love you" He said, getting his pants back on at the speed of light. Not bothering to wash his hands, but instead resorting to licking your combined juices off his fingers, and with a quick kiss to your cheek, he was gone.

You knew he'd keep his word, now all you'd have to do was wait till you got home to recieve his aftercare.

can't wait.

[aquareegia]

so i'm finally reading the AIB manga and so far i came to this conclusion:

[burntmarshmallowchishiya]

Chishiya x Fem Y/N Smut Visuals

uh hi I'm new to tumblr 🫣 and still figuring out this app lol

so happy we're getting a S3!

Contains: rough sex, fingering, and teasing

(you may need to have a twitter acc to watch it)

If you guys like it then maybe I'll do a part 2?

Chishiya is making sure you are moaning so loud that he hopes Niragi can hear it outside their shared hotel room

When you changed into The Beach dress code Chishiya can't keep his hands off your body

When you two are left alone in the room after you both finished an executive meeting and he teases you

Part 2 is HERE⭐️

Return to the MasterList

[eufezco]

BACK TO YOU — CHISHIYA X FEM!READER

MAJOR AIB SPOILERS !!

SUMMARY — you win the games and wake up in the hospital. remembering everything that happened in the borderlands and not knowing if chishiya made it.

your mouth was dry and it tasted like blood. your eyes opened slowly, getting used to the bright lights of the hospital room and you hissed when your hand landed on your temples. you had some cuts on your face, covered with gauzes and medical tapes, and some bruises too, especially around your eyes and on your cheekbones.

you looked around the room and you could see your mom's purse next to your bed, but she wasn't in the room. somethings never change, not even when you are at the hospital after having been dead for a few seconds. once you tried to sit on the bed, you felt a stabbing pain in your lower abdomen and then on your forearm. your hand went directly where it hurt in your belly and you realized that you were wearing a bigger gauze there and another of the same size on your arm, and at that moment a wave of memories hit you making you feel dizzy. the beach. the next level. the king of spades. chishiya.

chishiya.

you gasped and forced yourself to remember when was the last time that you saw him. niragi's gun was pointing at you when he suddenly stepped in the middle of your body and the bullet with your name written in it.

"why would you do it?" you asked him with tears in your eyes. chishiya just showed you a smirk. you told him that he needed to resist, that there were only two games left and everything will be over. a little smile remained on chishiya’s lips as he nodded slowly. he knew that by the time you completed the games he wouldn't be there. you wanted to stay by his side but usagi and arisu dragged you out of there when the zeppelin of the king of spades appeared.

the last thing you remember from that day was lying next to kuina and ann on the cold ground. your back hurt and your wounds didn't stop bleeding as you watched the fireworks and listened to what you were being asked. "i decline." you finally answered, with tears in the corners of your eyes.

you got up from the hospital bed and noticed that you were sharing a room with someone else. that someone in the room with you was separated from your side with a curtain. with small steps and with a hand on your belly, right where your wound was, you approached the curtain, and being extremely careful, you had a quick peek to the other side. you took a sharp breath after you recognized the boy on the other side. his thick brown hair was stuck to his forehead, and just like you, he had some gauzes on his face. he gave a small jump on the bed when he noticed that someone was staring at him from a small opening in the curtain, but his frown relaxed once he recognized you.

"y/n?" he asked, still a bit confused.

"arisu." you removed the curtain completely and his eyes opened wide. he removed the blanket from himself and turned his body to let his legs hang from the bed, ready to get up from the moment he saw you. you were quicker than him and hugged him, maybe a little too hard because you both hissed when your bodies collided. you stayed like that for a few seconds more and then he asked you if you were okay, and how long had been since you woke up.

"a minute?" you asked him. your head hurt. "everything- everything happened in a minute. all the games, all the deaths? in a minute?"

arisu nodded. you gulped. all the things you lived with chishiya happened in sixty seconds. you felt like you could throw up. you shook your head and decided to talk about anything else. "did usagi make it?"

"yes. she was with me when we finished the last game."

you nodded, glad to hear that your friend was alive. "kuina and ann also made it. i think i heard aguni and akane too but i can't remember well."

arisu then understood. you knew that all of your friends made it but not if he did. "i'm sure- i'm sure he's here. i'm sure chishiya got out."

you shook your head with your eyes closed. arisu didn't know that. when the king of spades appeared and him and usagi separated you from chishiya, his white jacket was already soaked in blood. the first bullet hit him in a noncritical area, but the second one, the one that should've got you, went directly into his chest. you didn't need to be a med student to know that that was bad.

"come on. let's go for a walk." arisu got up from the bed and kissed your forehead after noticing how sad your eyes were. you hooked your arm in his. every now and then arisu would stop to check up on you, if you were breathing well, if you were too tired to continue but you assured him every time that you were fine.

you saw aguni in the icu. the doctors that came out of the room were pointing out how that man being alive was practically a medical miracle. akane was on a wheelchair looking at him through the glass. the girl was very pleased to see you both again. she asked about your injuries and she thanked arisu in a subtle way for winning the last game. she didn't know if you were ready to talk openly about what happened. she didn't even know if she was.

you tried to run and arisu had to hold you so you wouldn't fall down the moment that you saw kuina. her face glowed and she had to blink a couple of times to believe her eyes. kuina was kneeling in front of a woman in a wheelchair, a man was standing next to the two of them, and you guessed that they were her parents. she was quick to stand up, her father had to help her to get to you and arisu, and then you hugged her tightly. you were careful though, you saw how bad her injuries were. you remember the king of spades on top of her, stabbing multiple times her stomach, blood coming out of her mouth and you immobile lying on the ground after being shot by him.

"have you seen him? do you know if he made it out?" you held kuina's cheeks. defeated, you let out a sigh after seeing kuina's confused expression. she shook her head to both of your questions. kuina told you that the last time that she saw chishiya was when the king of spades attacked for the first time, and then each of you followed a different path and she never saw him again after that. but when she met arisu again, he said that chishiya was fine.

you slowly turned to look at arisu with raised eyebrows, and the boy just shrugged his shoulders. on second thought, you were sure that arisu didn't do it with bad intentions. you had to explain to her that niragi shot him twice. kuina gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. you told her that the second time niragi was aiming at you but chishiya stood in the middle. that did not come as a surprise to her. she knew him longer than you did. they were already at the beach when you arrived there with arisu and usagi, and as long as she had known him, chishiya had always acted unbothered. he wasn't a big fan of showing affection. he was selfish, arrogant, and really self-centered. but kuina knew that he would take a bullet for you.

she insisted on joining you and arisu on your walk. you three recognized some people who were in the games with you: people from the beach, that kid usagi fought so hard to save, people you tried to kill, and people that tried to kill you.

"excuse me?"

the hospital reception was chaotic, and you barely heard the woman at the other side of the counter humming to your question.

"i'm- i'm looking for someone."

"name?"

you blinked a few times at her sudden question. you played with your fingers nervously. she raised her eyebrows waiting for an answer. "chishiya shuntarō."

you shouldn't have ask. you should have waited for him to find you. what if the woman told you what you didn't want to hear? no. no. no. you should've waited, or had arisu to ask for you. but now you were waiting for that woman to finish typing on the computer and maybe to tell you that he was dea-

"third floor, room 301."

"oh." you said in a sigh. you could feel all your body relaxing, your hands stopped trambling, your legs didn't feel like giving up anymore. but you could also feel your heart beating in your throat, and your chest slowly heaving. the woman raised her eyebrows at you again.

"do you need anything else?"

you gulped, shaking your head softly and coming back to you. "hm?oh. no, thank you."

you turned around and walked towards arisu and kuina, your eyes locked on the floor. your two friends arched their brows worried, by your face both of them expected the worse. kuina could feel that familiar lump that forms in your throat moments before bursting into tears. arisu approached you and his hands gripped your shoulders. your eyes connected with his.

"y/n-"

"he's on the third floor."

arisu sighed in relief. kuina also let out a sigh and she wiped away some tears off her cheeks before you could see her. she approached the woman and asked for an and she told kuina that she was in the operating room, which was also a strong relief.

time passed slowly, and the way to the third floor was the longest you could remember. not when you were walking to the control room with him and kuina, escaping from the militants, not when you were heading to a game, not even when you ran to him after niragi shot him. the elevator was too slow for you.

arisu was checking up on you, kuina was too deep in her thoughts. once the elevator stopped and the doors opened, you gulped and looked at arisu. he nodded for you to be the first one out of the elevator. what you didn't expect was to see chishiya in the middle of the hallway, his body slightly curved and one of his hands pressing his lower abdomen. he was talking to his doctor, probably asking a million questions like why he had put him on that medication instead of the other one, and trying to convince him why the other one was better.

"chishiya."

the boy quickly turned to see who was calling him and his eyes opened wide in surprise. "y/n." chishiya soon forgot about the doctor. one of his arms wrapped around your waist, the other one hugged your upper body, resting his hand on the back of your head and pulling you closer to him. he hid his face into the crook of your neck.

it was weird having him in between your arms in the real world. once you two were completely healed you'd go back to your normal life but you'll have each other. you were going to have to get used to his twenty-four hours shift as a doctor, and he was going to get used to hugs and kisses every day. but now, with his arms wrapped around you and after gone through that much, he thought that he could get used to that easily.

"i knew that you would make it." chishiya said with a small smile on his lips. one of his hands pushed your hair away from your face and tucked it behind your ear. the other one held your chin up trying to see through the gauzes on your face what type of injuries you had.

arisu and kuina were standing behind you. chishiya shared a glance with both of them. arisu was smirking, kuina was biting her nails with tears in her eyes, probably waiting for her turn to greet her friend but not wanting to separate you. you rested your head on his chest, careful to not touch where he was shot. your lower lip trembled, tears started forming in your eyes.

"i thought that you-"

someone talked before chishiya could. "that could never happen, you know what they say, only the good ones die young."

"you bastard." you looked over chishiya's shoulders and tried to move away from him the moment that you saw niragi at the end of the hallway, approaching the group from behind chishiya. he was quick to hold you tighter against him, to prevent you from hurting yourself even more by hitting niragi.

niragi was smiling. even though half of his body was covered with bandages you could see that disgusting smirk on his lips.

"i'm gonna kill you," you stated. niragi laughed at you. you couldn't see it but chishiya smirked, his arms still hugging you and not letting you part from him.

"it's not that big of a deal, honey. he's is alive and i got to shoot him. we both won."

chishiya could stop you but he didn't have enough arms to stop kuina. the girl passed by your side like a fury. arisu tried to grab her arm but she was mad. her fists were already clenched before she was even close to niragi, and arisu called her name in a last attempt of stopping her. niragi looked down at her with a smile on his lips. he knew what was coming. he had seen that face on kuina before.

her fist closed tighter and with all the strength in her body, she punched niragi. his mouth and nose started bleeding right after but he didn't stop laughing. she had her fist ready again but arisu grabbed her waist from behind pulling her away from him.

"better?" chishiya asked after feeling your breathing slowing down. you nodded and you both looked at kuina kicking in the arms of arisu. chishiya raised his brows looking at the doctors coming to assist niragi. "well, he deserved it." you rolled your eyes at him.

"you have to tell me a lot of things, i guess." chishiya said referring to your bruised face. you nodded, he was going to believe everything that happened between the time he was shot until arisu and usagi won the last game.

"i haven't seen banda and yaba."

chishiya smiled at your innocent. "i'm sure that they are fine but i'm also sure that they decided to stay." you already thought about that. you nodded understanding. what a shame because they were nice to you during the jack of hearts game, and they promised you that you'll see each other again. chishiya knew by your face that you didn't listen when he said that banda was a murderer and yaba was a scammer. people like that could only live freely in the borderlands.

not people like you two tho

[chxshiya]

Alice in borderland cast

[atin-y]

dance with me; ああ the tragedy of you and i.  

[chishiyashoodie]

Knowing Chishiya isn’t one to openly express his feelings I can totally picture him telling his s/o how he feels about her whenever she’s not aware.

Like she’s sleeping? He’ll be mumbling non stop about how much he loves her.

She’s in another room? He’d be whispering: “come here, I miss you”

She’s staring at the wall contemplating life? “I miss your eyes on me”

She has just woken up and she looks sleepy asf? “God, you look so beautiful”

And he thinks she can’t hear him but she often can and she has the biggest smile on her face every time.

She would pretend to be asleep just so she can hear him saying “I love you” until one day she says it back and he’s like 😦

[thepencilnerd]

take a slice

Summary: No one could imagine a more cunning or manipulative player than Shuntaro Chishiya—until he meets you. complete fic on my ao3 here <3 Word Count: 3.8k Contains: Depictions of violence, unresolved sexual tension, emotional constipation

A/N: because I binge-watched Alice In Borderland in the span of two days and I am very late to the party (but never too late for self-indulgent fan service)

Chishiya spots you across the same floor, your black silhouette nearly lost in the shadows of the night. It’s only your movement that catches his attention, the dark outerwear a sharp contrast to his bright white jacket. You and he are the only players scouting from this vantage point, watching from above while the chaos brews below.

The night is eerily quiet—the calm before the storm, as they say. Your gaze locks onto his, and for a moment, time seems to freeze. Chishiya feels his heartbeat falter, a fleeting hitch he quickly tamps down.

Before he can fully process it, you’ve already vanished around a corner, just as a rain of bullets peppers the area behind you.

A boy’s voice echoes from below, frantic. "The only way to clear this game is to work together!"

Bullshit , you think.

There must be a reason behind the attacker's anchoring position, Chishiya muses.

Of course.

When you finally make your way to the safe room, you’re welcomed by four unfamiliar figures: the spree-killing horse, the brunette boy from earlier, a girl with a bob, and the blonde. 

Chishiya strikes swiftly, the crackle of his taser breaking the stillness. The masked attacker crumples to the floor, their face hitting the ground with a muffled thud. You waste no time, stomping down hard on their wrist, sending the gun skittering from their hand. Before they can recover, you grab the weapon and fire a single round into the crown of their skull. 

When you glance up, you catch the faintest trace of a smirk ghosting across the blonde’s face, but it’s gone just as quickly.

In the seconds that follow, the two other players in the room hastily slam their hands on the red buttons lining the walls.

GAME COMPLETE. CONGRATULATIONS WINNERS. 

Turning around, a pair of wide eyes greets you. 

“Thank you,” the boy finally speaks, addressing you and the blonde in a shaky voice. 

You respond with a nod, glancing over at the girl and seeing her return the acknowledgement. 

“Don’t mention it.” The blonde’s condescending tone from behind you is paralleled only by his burning gaze, locking onto you immediately. He almost misses seeing you slip something from the dead body into your pocket. 

You feel his focus linger on you as you leave the room. 

The night air is thick with tension, the distant cries from nearby arenas only amplifying the silence with each footstep behind you. You don’t bother turning around; you already know who it is.

Chishiya steps into your peripheral vision, his pace unhurried, like a cat stalking in the shadows. The forest buzzes with the threat of unseen dangers, but all his attention is locked on you.

"You didn’t have to kill him," he says, his voice casual, almost amused, as though discussing the weather.

You don’t stop walking. "You didn’t stop me."

A quiet chuckle escapes him, barely more than a breath. "True." His tone remains light, but there’s an edge beneath it, like he’s testing you, challenging you. "Still, you’ve got a certain efficiency. Impressive."

Your expression stays neutral. And yet, Chishiya’s presence beside you stirs something strange—a shared awareness, as if you’re both circling an invisible boundary neither of you are quite ready to cross—yet.

"You took something," he says, breaking the silence again, his voice calm but probing. His gaze stays forward, unreadable. "From the body."

You glance at him briefly, just enough to meet his eyes, which glint with curiosity under the moonlight. He’s trying to figure you out.

"And what if I did?" There’s a challenge in your voice now.

Chishiya’s smirk returns, faint but unmistakable. "Nothing. For now."

The tension between you tightens, pulling you closer in the silence. The game isn’t over. Not between the two of you.

As you continue walking, he trails behind, but soon loses sight of you in the dense trees. Shadows shift, swallowing you whole. He barely has time to catch his breath before a sudden force slams him to the ground, knocking the wind from his lungs. The disturbed soil and decaying leaves soften his fall, but his back still hits the earth with a solid thud.

Your knee digs sharply into his sternum, pinning him down. One hand tightens around his throat, not enough to choke him but enough to strain his breath. The cold, unforgiving edge of a blade presses against his cheek—a silent threat.

Chishiya’s indifferent expression makes your skin crawl, yet his stoic, unflinching gaze cuts through the moment like a dagger—piercing both hot and cold at once. Neither of you speak. It’s a game of cat and cat, both of you testing the other's resolve in this tense, silent standoff.

For a fleeting moment, he wonders if you can read each other’s thoughts.

You feel him gulp beneath your hand, his pulse quickening under your fingers. Both of his hands remain raised in surrender by his ears, calm, unwavering, and empty of any weapon or defense. His eyes flicker to the deep scar on your neck, lingering there for just a moment.

The air between you thickens. What feels like minutes pass in the span of heartbeats.

Without warning, you spring up and disappear into the night.

Chishiya stays on the ground for a moment, catching his breath. He sits up slowly, eyes tracing the path you took into the darkness. His chest rises and falls unevenly, the phantom cold of the blade still lingering on his skin. Silence wraps around him like a fog, but his pulse betrays him—racing, driven by more than just adrenaline.

For the first time in longer than he can remember, he feels something—a strange tug deep in his core, like something vital slipped away the moment you left. A curiosity stirs, mingling with the remnants of tension, a silent acknowledgment that this game isn’t over.

It’s only just begun.

Chishiya’s lips twitch into a faint smirk. Your piercing gaze and the scar on your neck are seared into his mind. He knows he’ll see you again. And next time, he won’t be caught off guard.

“You look like you have something on your mind.”

Kuina sits down across from Chishiya, her curiosity piqued as she watches him stare off into the distance. The evening air is still, a rare calmness settling over the Beach after a chaotic night.

Chishiya leans back, crossing his arms, a faint hum escaping his lips. “Just an interesting game tonight,” he replies casually, but there’s a lingering spark in his gaze that betrays more.

Kuina raises an eyebrow. “Must’ve been some game, then.”

“Perhaps,” Chishiya says, his voice smooth and unhurried. The rush of endorphins from the near-death experience still thrums faintly through his veins. 

The cause? A player whose actions were as cunning and unpredictable as his own. The thrill of narrowing down their motivations felt like a puzzle finally worth solving.

His mind drifts back to the game, replaying each moment like scenes in a movie. The chaos, the desperate shouts, and the blaring alarms all felt distant—mere background noise compared to the razor-sharp focus he'd found himself drawn to. That focus was centered on one person.

You had been an anomaly from the start. There was a precision in the way you moved, calculated and unfazed by the panic unraveling around you. It was as if you thrived on the chaos, embraced it even, letting it fuel each step you took. While the other players were scrambling to find shelter or allies, you seemed to anticipate every move, predicting the patterns before they even unfolded.

And then, the moment that had truly hooked him: the kill. Cold, efficient, and executed without a trace of hesitation. You weren’t just surviving; you were playing the game in its purest form—adapting, evolving, always a step ahead. There was no hesitation in your actions, no unnecessary flourish—just the unyielding will to end a threat. It wasn’t just about self-preservation; it was about winning. And that’s what made you different.

Chishiya’s curiosity flared the instant your eyes met his in the aftermath. For the briefest moment, he’d seen a flicker of something—recognition, maybe even a hint of challenge. Like you were silently asking him if he had what it took to keep up.

It was absurd, really, to feel anything in the Borderlands beyond the mechanical urge to survive. But something had shifted tonight. For the first time in what felt like forever, the game had become more than a series of calculated risks and rewards: it had become interesting.

Chishiya’s gaze shifts back to the window where lights scatter the sky. His fingers tap idly on the armrest of his chair, a rhythm betraying the restlessness he tries to mask. He’s always prided himself on being detached, keeping emotions and sentiment far from his calculations. Yet here he is, preoccupied with thoughts that don't have a place in his carefully constructed logic.

"You're quiet," Kuina observes, her tone carrying a hint of amusement. "More than usual, I mean."

Chishiya’s smirk is faint, barely there. “Am I?”

She shrugs, leaning back in her seat. “You’ve been lost in your own head since you got back.” 

Chishiya’s expression doesn’t falter, but there’s a slight shift in his demeanor—a barely perceptible sign of vulnerability, quickly smoothed over. “Maybe I’m just considering... possibilities,” he replies, the words coming slower than usual, as if he’s testing how they sound. 

Kuina’s eyes narrow thoughtfully. “Possibilities, huh?” She tilts her head, studying him. “That’s one way of putting it. Or maybe… a person?”

Chishiya’s silence is uncharacteristic. He feels the pull to dismiss the notion immediately, to scoff at the idea of being distracted by a person, much less affected by them. But instead, he pauses. It’s enough for Kuina to catch on, her curiosity piqued.

“Interesting,” she murmurs, a teasing smile curling on her lips. “You’re actually thinking about someone, aren’t you?” When he doesn’t respond, she presses further. “It’s a girl, right? Did she do something to catch your eye?”

Chishiya finally meets her gaze, his own guarded but not entirely dismissive. “She’s... unusual,” he admits, the words coming out almost reluctantly. “Not like the others.”

Kuina arches an eyebrow. “Unusual how? Smart? Dangerous?”

“Both,” he replies without hesitation. “Efficient, focused. But there’s something else.” He uncrosses his arms, feeling oddly exposed, as though admitting to these thoughts makes them more real, more tangible. “It’s like she’s not playing the same game as the rest of them.”

Kuina studies him for a moment, then lets out a soft laugh. “You’ve got it bad,” she says, shaking her head. “I never thought I’d see the day you’d be drawn to someone for more than their utility.”

He scoffs, a ghost of his usual arrogance returning. “Don’t get carried away. I’m only interested because she might be useful.”

“Sure,” Kuina says with a knowing grin. “Keep telling yourself that.”

Chishiya falls silent again, but the truth gnaws at him. He knows it’s more than just her utility in the grand scheme of escaping this hellhole. It’s the way she challenges him—forces him to reevaluate his strategies and makes him wonder if there’s more to this game than just surviving.

He hates how that thought clings to him, even as he tries to push it away.

Chishiya shifts in his chair, feeling a dull ache radiate from his chest. He’s been operating on a different level since encountering you, and the physical reminder feels almost like an anchor to what he’s been trying to navigate.

He glances at Kuina, who’s still watching him with an amused expression, still probing. “You look like you’re plotting something.”

“Just considering my next move,” he replies, a hint of a smirk returning to his lips. “The game is full of variables, and I need to prepare for them.”

“Variables, huh? Is that what you call her now?” Kuina teases, leaning forward, her elbows resting on the table.

“Focus,” he snaps lightly, but there’s no real heat in his voice. Instead, his mind races ahead to the next game, and how he can draw you in, maybe even observe you more closely. He’s already picturing the scenarios—the players, the setting, the stakes.

What he really wants is a way to see you again. To understand the force that pulls him toward you, the complexity that makes you more than just another player. The anticipation churns within him, exciting yet unnerving.

“What if I made a move to recruit her?” he muses aloud, considering the prospect. “She could be an asset. If she operates outside the norm, that could change the dynamics of our strategies.”

“Or it could blow up in your face,” Kuina counters, her tone light but her gaze serious. “You’re not exactly known for your emotionality, Chishiya. What if she doesn’t want to play?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he replies, brushing off her concern. “I’ll figure it out. I always do.”

But the truth is, he knows that this isn’t merely about the game anymore. It’s about the way you make him feel—like a player in a game he thought he understood, now suddenly complex and exhilarating. Chishiya can’t shake the thought that if he wants to unlock the potential you represent, he’ll have to make a move soon.

He allows himself a moment of vulnerability, resting his chin on his hand as he reflects. “What if I want to see her again, Kuina? What if it’s not just about strategy anymore?”

Kuina’s eyes widen, clearly surprised by his admission. “Wow. You’re actually admitting you care.”

Chishiya rolls his eyes but can’t help the smirk tugging at his lips. “Don’t get carried away.”

“Sure,” she says, leaning back with a satisfied grin. “Just remember, sometimes the best strategies are the ones that come from the heart.”

With that, Chishiya’s mind drifts again, calculating and assessing. He’ll be ready for the next game. He’ll be prepared to take any risk to find you again, to unravel the mystery of what you truly are: a partner, a rival, or perhaps something more. As the night draws to a close, the shadows deepen, but a flicker of determination ignites within him.

He will see you again.

A few days have passed since the last game, but the adrenaline still courses through your veins, lingering like a ghost. You survived, but the victory feels hollow, overshadowed by the memory of the indifferent blonde boy who’s drawn you in more than you care to admit.

Your thoughts drift back to that game—its intensity still vivid in your mind. It was like no other you’d experienced, where survival felt more like a dance with death than a struggle against it. And he was at the center of it, moving through the chaos with a calculated grace that caught your attention long before you understood why.

It wasn’t just that he was calm under pressure. Plenty of players had nerves of steel. It was his indifference, the way he seemed detached from the dangers around him, as though nothing could touch him. Where others flinched or panicked, he merely observed, as if the unfolding chaos was a puzzle to solve rather than a life-or-death situation. That kind of control was rare in the Borderlands, and in some strange way, it felt like a dare, an unspoken challenge that made you want to test him, to see if there was anything that could shatter that composure.

You remember the moment you locked eyes across the chaos, the way the world seemed to fade into the background. It was brief, but in that instant, it felt like a silent conversation—an understanding that went beyond words. There was something sharp in his gaze, a spark of curiosity that mirrored your own. It was as if he was evaluating you, sizing you up just as you were doing to him. For a fleeting moment, you wondered if you were seeing a part of yourself reflected back in those cold, calculating eyes.

But it wasn’t just his composure or his gaze that drew you in. It was the way he acted in those crucial seconds when lives hung in the balance. While others scrambled to save themselves, he made moves that seemed almost playful, like he was toying with the danger rather than simply evading it. There was a thrill in watching him maneuver through the madness with an ease that bordered on arrogance, as though he was always three steps ahead of everyone else—including you.

And then there was the moment when the game ended. You had both survived, of course, but there was something in the way he looked at you afterward, something that lingered, a faint smirk that hinted he had seen more than you’d intended to reveal. It wasn’t pity; it was as if he recognized a kindred spirit, someone who understood the game on a different level. For the first time in what felt like ages, you felt truly seen. 

That feeling unsettles you even now, as you sit by the fire, staring into the flames. It’s not that you seek validation in the Borderlands; you’ve learned long ago that the only approval that matters is your own. But there’s something about his quiet confidence, the way he seemed to acknowledge you without saying a word, that’s hard to shake. It makes you wonder if he was as unaffected as he appeared or if there was more beneath the surface, something hidden behind that cool exterior.

You clench your jaw, frustrated with yourself for even thinking about him this much. He was just another player—albeit a skilled one—and you’ve dealt with plenty of them before. But there’s a part of you that can’t ignore the way his presence lingers, like a splinter in your mind, a question that refuses to be answered.

Why did he make such an impression on you? Was it his composure, his intelligence, or the quiet thrill of crossing paths with someone who didn’t play by the same rules as everyone else? Or was it the way he seemed to see you in return, as if you were more than just a piece on the board?

You realize that you don’t know the answers—and perhaps that’s what’s most intriguing of all. There’s an unfinished quality to your last encounter, a feeling that your story with him isn’t over yet. It’s as if the game itself has drawn a line between you, daring you to cross it again.

You shake your head, trying to dismiss the thoughts that have become stubborn visitors in your mind. Why does he occupy your thoughts so much? Is it his calm indifference, the way he moved with calculated grace? Or is it something more that stirs a curiosity you can’t quite define?

Pushing the thoughts aside, you focus on your routine, an independent existence in the Borderlands, where survival means mastering skills few have the patience to learn. You've carved out a small camp nestled within the trees, camouflaged by foliage, a sanctuary of sorts amidst the chaos.

Every morning, you rise before dawn, the cool air biting at your skin as you check your traps. The gentle sounds of the forest waking around you are a familiar symphony, one you find solace in. You harvest small game—rabbits, birds, whatever you can catch—and meticulously prepare them, savoring the simple act of cooking over a small fire.

Hunting and foraging have become second nature. You collect wild herbs and edible plants, storing them in makeshift pouches crafted from scavenged materials. Each successful hunt reminds you of your resilience and strength. 

But even as you focus on these tasks, your mind drifts back to him—the blonde boy from the game. The way his piercing gaze seemed to see right through you, as if he was calculating your every move. It’s unsettling yet exhilarating, a contradiction you can’t wrap your head around.

The sun climbs higher, and you take a break from your chores to wash your hands in a nearby stream, the water refreshing against your skin. As you splash your face, you catch your reflection in the rippling surface, a mix of determination and uncertainty staring back at you.

You spend the afternoon working on camp, reinforcing the makeshift walls and clearing away debris that threatens your space. But even as you work to distract yourself, you can almost feel his presence lurking at the edge of your thoughts, his smirk dancing on your mind like a memory that refuses to fade.

Eventually, you settle on a log outside your camp, a piece of driftwood you dragged from the riverbank. Pulling out your small notebook, you begin to sketch the maps of the Borderlands, noting down resources and potential hideouts. It’s practical, a way to keep your mind sharp, but each mark on the page feels like a tether to the games, to the players who dance around you like shadows.

You reach into your pocket and pull out the small, crumpled piece of paper you took from the body during the game. You’ve looked at it countless times since then, trying to make sense of the chaotic scribbles. It’s a series of numbers and symbols—coordinates, perhaps, or some kind of code. Whatever it is, it’s not immediately clear, and that only deepens your curiosity.

You flatten the paper against the rough surface of the log, comparing it with your sketches. Could it be a location in the Borderlands? A clue to something hidden or an upcoming game? The patterns don’t align with any familiar maps, but something about the markings feels deliberate, as though there’s a message buried within them. You trace the lines with your finger, committing them to memory, trying to see what the original owner had seen. What was so important that they’d die with it?

Your mind drifts back to the moment you took it. The blonde boy’s eyes had flickered towards you—just for a heartbeat—when you pocketed the paper. Did he know what it meant, or had he noticed the same curiosity in you that you now feel?

As you draw, memories of the game resurface: his calculated moves, his indifferent demeanor, and the strange thrill of standing against him. There’s something magnetic about his presence, something that both fascinates and frustrates you.

In the fading light of dusk, you close your eyes for a moment, letting the sounds of the forest wash over you. The call of distant birds, the rustle of branches—each note a reminder that you’re alive, that you’re here, navigating a world filled with peril and unpredictability. But still, the thought lingers. Will your paths cross in the next game, or will you remain a ghost in his memory?

With a sigh, you shake your head and return to your sketches, determination settling in your chest. It doesn’t matter. Yet, in the depths of your mind, a part of you yearns for that inevitable meeting, that chance to unravel the enigma that is the blonde boy.

As darkness settles over the forest, you tuck your notebook away, the images of your maps a promise of the journey ahead. Tomorrow will bring new challenges, new games to navigate. And if fate has its way, perhaps it will also bring him back into your orbit once more.

[valeprati]

😂😂😂

[kowzs]

I had to put this out somewhere because this man just lives in my brain rent free no thoughts just him: 

[klaustozier]

when they force an introvert to interact more than one time

[j-jinxee]

⊹ NSFW Audio !!

Stroking Chishiya as he rambles about how fucking good you make him feel —★

[warnings — male moaning, Japanese speaking, no translations, wet sounds]

⊳ 1 minute, 36 seconds

I know this is pretty ooc for shiya, but as soon as I heard how similar it sounds to him I just had to post it so, hope u enjoy —𖹭

[archieimagines]

antidote | chishiya shuntaro

Summary: A doctor is a lifeline. In the Jack of Hearts game, Chishiya strives to be yours.

yeah, i took the physician reveal and ran with it. i tried to get into his head to portray him as well as i could in writing this and accidentally fell head over heels. let me know if i did him justice? warnings: large helpings of anxiety, chishiya-esque emotional manipulation, though affectionate. mentions of sex, fwb setup, my attempt at sounding medically educated. word count: 2741 requested by: anon (thank you so much for this brilliant idea, i loved getting stuck into it. i don’t write smut, but i hope this still gets you a little riled.) written by: archie support me on ko-fi

It’s human nature to fuck up. He should’ve known to expect it from you.

It was beginning to wear him down, your constant knee bouncing and nail biting since the third hour of this game. All he needed to do was watch. He was wildly curious to see how this would all play out, and he knew he was safe. Knew you were safe.

All things considered, it was a low-risk game: only trust was required, and he’d scored that easily by taking you under his wing. However, The idea of the Jack of Hearts was a poison injected into the bloodstream of the prison’s population. The symptoms of distrust and paranoia would migrate through the ranks, and the masses would spiral and die.

It was a simple game. The key was to not let your protector get infected.

But the symptoms were visibly taking a hold of you. The cafeteria table shook with your anxious tics, the water in your bottle sloshing enough to disrupt his attention on the surrounding cafeteria. He wouldn’t complain though. You weren’t annoying, no, but you could soon put him on edge if he let you spiral like this, and then he’d be infected too.

“Chishiya,” you called softly, clearly nervous to disrupt his spectating.

He didn’t tear his eyes from the scheming girl in the dress. She was particularly interesting in this setting; and by his deductions, not likely to be the Jack. “Hm?”

Your voice came meeker than normal. “What’s my suit again?”

He turned slowly, a brow quirked over a relaxed eye as he finally gave you his attention. “You forgot?”

“No. Just tell me.”

He sighed silently through his nose, calculating your thoughts. To ask this after he’d told you twice already, you must’ve been anxious about one of two things. One, that your addled mind would fool you into speaking the wrong suit. Or two, that you couldn’t trust him.

“Heart,” was all he said.

And you nodded. Your eyes hardened, clearly visualising the shape before your eyes. ‘Heart,’ he could practically see your mind reciting. ‘Heart.’

Or… Was that a calculating look? He flexed his jaw. Were you possibly tallying up the likelihood that he’d lied to you?

He focused on the accidental downturn of his lips. He shouldn’t be double reading you like that - his own intuition was the only concrete thing he had. He’d never been wrong before. He’d kept the both of you alive for this long based on his skill alone, and he’d not let your lives slip away in a measly Jack’s game.

With a slow blink, he made the conscious choice not to chip away at his own trust in himself, as was undeniably the Jack’s aim in this game.

Chishiya’s gaze lowered to where your fingertips danced on the tabletop. A heart shape. Over and over. Frantic, disturbed. You were slipping.

Against his better judgement, he reached out a hand to clasp over your fingers, quietly amused when those sweet, round eyes fixed on his face. You were so scared, so anxious, and the part inside of him that felt for you lit a soft smile on his lips.

You’d never been good at heart games with that anxious disposition, but that was why he’d kept you by his side. You were an easy window into the minds of his surroundings with how easily he could read you. Your distress on the outside showed blatantly the fear of the people in this game. Everyone under the roof would be feeling it. Even the Jack… Especially the Jack.

Chishiya had found you early on in the games-- only the two of you had survived the Six of Hearts. You were entirely integral to his methods of survival that day, so he stole you away to the Beach and was sure to never let you have a game without him. Losing you as the key to his readings would surely damn him someday. Yet somewhere along the line, he grew… fond.

It must’ve been your consistent proximity, he’d reasoned at first. How your constant being around became a sense of ‘normal’ for both he and Kuina, how your raw, unapologetic humanity was a refreshing shift in his life, how you were a brilliant vessel in the games.

He’d protect you, and you’d provide him the opposite perspective as the control in his readings where everyone else was the variable. The perfect symbiotic relationship in this land.

And perhaps that may have been the case. Perhaps that was the foundation for which he felt appreciative of you, the foundation for a so-called friendship. But it didn’t explain how you’d developed into more for him.

His hold on your fingers tightened, gaze fixed on them as he recalled how they’d thread through his hair, night after night. How they’d unzip his hoodie at the Beach. How they’d scramble to tug the sheets over your naked body when a militant barged through the unlockable door to call him into an executive meeting. He couldn’t help the huff of amusement at the thought. Your eyes were as sweet and panicked then as they were now.

But it wasn’t the same. There, you had the safety of the blankets in his room. A sanctuary. Here, you must’ve felt so exposed to the Jack’s poison. Knee bouncing beneath the table and water bottle gripped tight in one hand, what he could swear was a thin sheen of sweat over your skin. You were really losing your nerve, and he needed to be your antidote.

“Follow me,” he murmured, his interest in the room’s population dissipated. With a gentle nod in a moment of reassurance, he let go of your fingers to let you take up your bottle of water and led you from the cafeteria.

His hands burrowed into his pockets as he walked. He took his slow time, sure to register his surroundings in his peripherals even as he gazed straight ahead, effortless as ever.

Your distinct footsteps followed close behind, audibly unsure and glancing around to the others as you tagged along. He knew you had no clue yet. You were playing it blind and suffering for it.

He took you aside into one of the prison’s meeting rooms where once upon a time, a board of directors would’ve gathered. They’d have administered handfuls of men’s fates, and they’d have considered them less than rats. Now this was where Chishiya would administer your own fate, purely because he held you dear.

He opened a palm to gesture to the end of the table. “Take a seat,” he spoke, ever relaxed, and watched you hop up onto the end of the table. It was rickety, chairs kicked and strewn about, the room only lit by the game-master’s searchlights that shone into the windows.

You looked far from comfortable perched up there, the glare lighting half of your face, and he found himself silent. He just looked at you for a moment. How beautiful you were.

He’d noticed many times, of course. The flutter of your lashes as you looked over his features in a fruitless attempt to read his face. Your parted lips channelling the oxygen that fuelled your body, though your lungs delivered it all shaky and uneven. You were stunning to him, even in the worst of times. Even when you were drenched in the crimson of lives you outlived.

But… There was something in this moment. Something about how right now, he was your lifeline. He held that beautiful existence in his hands and this time, he had the power to choose his method of helping. No supervisors to end your life with a swift letter, no list of priority to bump you down. Or at least, you were the priority.

“What is it?” You jerked him from his thoughts, your ankle bouncing once more where it swung below the table. “Chishiya?”

He gifted you a smile, but it didn’t soothe you.

Your eyes narrowed instead. “What are you hiding from me?”

A soft hum of laughter as he took slow, deliberate steps closer until he stood directly before you. A pinkness on your neck caught his eye and his head tipped in curiosity. He reached to slip a finger into your collar, lips pursed in question as he felt the irritated heat of your skin underneath. “Mm? Do you have a latex allergy?”

“Lat-? No.”

He pulled gently on the band at your neck, stepping even closer to peer at the line of irritation from the garment. It wasn’t until he finally removed his hold that he noted the moisture on his finger-- your sweat. The salt must have caught in the material and rubbed you raw, leading to irritation and the slightest blood spots beneath your skin.

“You’ve been pulling at the collar.”

“It’s tighter than when we started.”

Chishiya knew that wasn’t true. His was perfectly fine - comfortable, even - but he didn’t give a thought to argue. Your stress was having physical implications, making everything even worse for you. Anxiety really is a bitch, he mused.

“Water.” He held a hand out to the bottle and you placed it in his palm. His eyes fixed on yours as he opened it up-- and only at this point did he realise quite how close he was.

Your knees put a comfortable, familiar pressure on either side of his hips, his face uncommonly close to yours without the presence of a bed, but he had no intention of moving. He just took the space and owned it, relishing in the slightest hue of red that dusted your cheek, sure to notice it deepen as he raised your chin between his finger and thumb, guiding you to lift your face.

“This will be cold,” was all the warning he gave before trickling the water down your neck.

You hissed and jerked back, likely from the cold or the sting of the freshwater on your salted wounds. “Shit, Chishiya.”

He simply chuckled inwardly, lips hitched in a humoured smirk as he rinsed your skin. He let the little stream of water run across your throat, taking his time to work towards your other ear. His touch on your chin remained delicate as a doctor’s touch, directing you to look the other way for his ease.

This intimacy, he pondered. So rare in the home world. It was one thing to be a physician in a hospital, and another to use basic, opportunistic materials to heal someone who depended on him so wholly. A patient may fight to survive on their own accord, but here, in this game, with you… Everything rode on his word, on his actions. Everything.

A strange magnetism in his chest drew him ever closer to your skin, until his lips soon met the human warmth beneath your ear. It was a slow kiss, tender and deliberate, and he relished in how your body naturally leant into his.

His closed eyes let him hone on the quickened beat of your pulse, the ghost of a thrum against his lips. Your blood pumped the cortisol of your anxiety through the roof, and he remembered his mission to bring it back down, to calm you. He clung to this as a reason to retract from you. If this reaction was from his unsolicited affection, he should know better than to drive your adrenaline too high. 

“Don’t touch it anymore,” he prescribed, voice level and cool, giving no hint as to how hard it was to lean back from you. “The irritation will lessen and you can focus more.”

“I don’t know what the hell I’m focusing on,” you spat in a whisper, uncommonly callous with your words despite the pink to your cheeks as you watched him close the bottle cap once more. He’d seen you panic before in many a heart’s game, but not like this, not after his sparing affection. This game really was frying your nerves.

“Focus on keeping your head,” he murmured, the slightest snort slipping out after. “In every sense of the word.”

“Shut the fuck up, Chishiya.”

It was endlessly amusing to see you like this. The fire that came from your lips right now had never been rivalled before, and any regret he’d had at choosing a Heart’s game for you quickly dissipated. Fascinating to see you lose your mind.

But, he couldn’t toy with you too far. He allowed you to hear his chuckle, low and rumbling in his chest, only audible with the proximity he kept. “Sincerely. Focus on staying calm. All you need to do is trust me.”

“Not so easy in a place like this.”

He took the chance to look surprised. This was his opening to seal any of his own concerns about you. “You think I’d feed you the wrong suit?”

He paid careful attention to how you hesitated, watching the thoughts dance their patterns behind your eyes. You were looking at him without seeing him, close enough that he could see his reflection in your irises. Calculations, calculations, ones that you so visibly struggled to work out. Would he dare tell you the wrong suit? Would it be out of choice or pre-emptive, lest you try to end him first, purely because you’d worried?

Moments passed, and the longer it went on, the more his worries tugged at his thoughts. He needed to prove himself to you to save his own skin. Both of your skins.

His hands settled lightly on your lower thighs, set snug on either side of his hips, and he gave a reassuring squeeze. “You don’t need to worry,” he murmured, voice low and soothing as butter on a wound, “We’ll survive this together.”

That endearing little tug between your brows encouraged him on, and he couldn’t help but take your chin in his hold again. To hold that sweet face, so trusting, so impressionable. He watched the hope shine in your features before turning your face the slightest degree, exposing your ear once more, to which he leant in. His breath just tickled your lobe as his nose nudged on your shell, words slow and deliberate. “I know who the Jack is.”

The change in your body language was instant. You jumped back to peer at his face, brows high and eyes wide, no longer slouched and dejected. Your hand gripped at his white jacket, fisted into the fabric to keep him close as you murmured, “Really?”

A slow nod. Relaxed eyes and knowing smirk shone in the searchlight, and he planned his next words carefully. He didn’t want you to know who his suspects were, in case you gave anything away and steered the game from its natural course. “I have two suspects, it’s just down to seeing which fails first.”

The elation in his chest at seeing your relief was disorienting. The way you sighed out with almost a laugh, head thrown back to let it escape you… It was an image he wouldn’t forget for a long time. The serenity of his antidote, saving you from the Jack’s poison.

His brows shot up as you snatched his shoulders into a tight, relieved hold, thighs tight on his waist and arms looped around his neck. Your face pressed into the junction of his shoulder, nestled against his hair. “Thank fuck,” you breathed, edging on tears. “You worked it out? I should’ve known. I should’ve!”

He didn’t say anything, only astounded that you might be so liberal in your affections outside his hotel room. But then, he did bridge that gap first. And there were no regrets. He allowed himself to indulge in it, his own arms finding their home around your waist and his nose in your hair. Of course it was a trick of psychological conditioning, but if he focused just right, he could almost smell the residue of chlorine from the days at the Beach.

He indulged in splaying a hand across your back, rubbing soothing circles over your form. This body… He knew the ins and outs of it. He knew where every mole dotted your skin, he could estimate the length of your lower ribs without flaw. His thumb pressed slow pulses in the flesh between the back of your ribs, imagining that he’d place his stethoscope there.

What a sound he’d hear. Each breath, the source of your survival.

Would it be too arrogant to consider himself such a thing too?

[cresents]

Alice in Borderland 2022

S02E08

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NIJIRO MURAKAMI as KAZUTORA HANEMIYA in TOKYO REVENGERS: BLOODY HALLOWEEN