Not Interested // Shuntaro Chishiya

♡26♡

Special Urgent Broadcast
♤ ♢ ♧ ♡

"Congratulations to all players.
Except for the face cards, you've completed the numbered games and emerged victorious.

And the prize of these sweet victories was the sacrifice of so many lives.
I wonder... just how many of your close friends have died?

Do you remember the ones who were shot in the head?
That girl that you burned alive?
The ones struck down by lasers?
Or the ones who drowned?
The ones whose heads were blown off?

Your friends.
All that despair you felt... those gruesome scenes, you'll never forget them.
And that... really touches me!

To all surviving players, we just wanted to give you a present.
There will be new games!
Let's all play, and this time with all the face cards!

We've got so many more wonderful and exciting games in store for you all, so be prepared.

The next stage starts tomorrow, when the clock strikes noon.

Let's have some fun, all together!"

Fireworks erupts, filling the blue sky with explosions of color and bangs that sound all over the city.

Chishiya scoffed.
All it is, is a celebration that they've lived another day, just to die the next.
A celebration for prolonging the end to their lives.

This wasn't the end.
According to Mira, that witch of a woman who had been a Game Master under their nose this whole, it was just the start.

Collection all the number cards was just the start. The next level was games including the face cards.

Riveting, really.

Still, the streets were empty, scattered debris flying with the gusts of wind. Building desecrated, graffiti from those still alive, or were alive when this entire mess started, decorated billboards.

Huge areas darkened over the city and blimps overlooked the dead quiet roads. Huge and made out of metal, they flew by.

Cascading down off of them were huge cards, made out of large sheets and painted to represent the face cards. They're visible from miles away.

Chishiya eyed the one closest.
King of Spades.

"Guess we are all going to die, huh?"

Everyone turns and glances down, at you.
You're sat on the floor, leaning against the side of Chishiya's legs.

It's been a few days since the massacre at the Beach happened. You've found your way into your old attire, sweatpants and a t-shirt, donning beat up shoes.

The swelling in your face has vanished, leaving your eyes, cheek, and lips black and blue. A hand of your covers the left side of your abdomen, fingers tapping the bandages that lie beneath and keep your bullet wound from contracting any disease.

Chishiya did a good job, but it still hurt like hell.
Slowly, you stood, pushing off your knees and stumbling a few steps before catching your wavering balance.

Everyone watched you glance up towards the sky, raising a hand to ease the shine of the sun on your eyes.

Inhaling deeply, you smiled.
"Fuck it, if I die, I die."