Alice in Borderland | Transmigration

Chapter 22

"Just think about it," Karube started, holding the bullet between his index finger and thumb, "imagine placing this bullet on a shelf in your room and when someone asks about it, you're all like 'yeah, that almost killed me!', just imagine."

You let out a laugh, high-pitched and wheezy, "I'm definitely...keeping that."

No one mentioned how unrealistic that was given the situation they were in. They basked in the normality of the idea –as normal as keeping a bullet that almost killed you can be– and didn't mention a thing.

You guys have spent the last hour or so just chatting and laughing. The atmosphere was nice and mellow, you enjoyed getting to know more about the people you have been fighting for your lives with. 

You noticed that your body didn't quite feel like lead anymore, and you could move enough so that now you were sitting upright and leaning against the headboard. Ann said the immobile feeling was a consequence of laying in bed for so long, but within a day or so, your joints should loosen up and you'll be able to move more freely.

This was a huge relief, you wouldn't stand a chance against the King of Spades in an immobile state, not that your chances were any better now.

Although you were proud to have finished season 1 without dying, season 2 was a constant, nagging itch at the back of your mind. King of Spades was a game of pure plot amour, and unfortunately, you had none of that.

It was so easy. Get shot, bleed out on the street and die. That's the end. That's it. No reruns, no retries.

You briefly wondered –not for the first time– if you would return if you died. The thought of waking up alone with weeks worth of memories and trauma, lost friendships with people that don't even exist. It hurt, and you had the sudden urge to laugh dryly to yourself, because only you would be stupid enough to become attached to characters that you knew would forget you, forget everyone. This'll all end one day, the thought left your heart in shambles.

Before you could delve deeper into the abyss of your own mind, Usagi spoke.

Usagi had a small smile on her face as she inquired, "how'd it happen? If you don't mind me asking."

You slumped at the memory of killing the militant. You didn't regret it, not one bit, but it hurt all the same to have taken a human life.

Seeing your immediately downcast expression, Usagi backtracked, "if you don't want to talk about it, it's fine. We'll talk about something else."

"No, it's fine...I just..."

You sighed.

You pondered not telling them, saying a militant had shot you, that you had gotten away just in time. You weren't lying, just not speaking the whole truth. However, the burden of the memory was weighing you down, and subconsciously, you needed someone to tell you it was okay, that you didn't do anything wrong. Or maybe, you wanted someone to berate you for your actions, to make you feel pain in order to wash away some of the guilt eating you up inside.

It was kind of stupid, because this was a world of death, death littered every corner and crevice, hundreds of people died everyday, it was common. So why is there so much turmoil stirring in your gut? Before, you took the word 'kill' and 'death' so lightly, but the image of the man with blood quickly seeping through his clothes, his eyes drained of life, and crimson painting every surface. It won't go away. 

If you told them, would their view of you change? Would they be mad at you? Would they be understanding?

You cleared your throat, and let your mouth run before you started to overthink things, "...some militant shot me...in the hall, " your stomach churned, "I killed him."

You dropped the bomb, and you instantly regretted it. Why would you think this was a good idea? Was the thought of consolation important enough to drive a wedge between your friendships? What if they never spoke to you again?

There was silence, and you bowed your head in shame and guilt.

Ann's voice startled you, snapping the drawn-out tension beginning to build in the room. Her voice was matter-of-fact, so affirming that it kept you grounded within your whirlwind of emotions. "You did what you had to. It was either you or him and you chose yourself."

Tatta, who was standing beside her, nodded along, "it's not your fault. It was self defence."

One glance at everyone else's sympathetic faces had you holding back tears. A part of you was eternally grateful, however, the other part believed you deserve to suffer.

A hand reached out and patted your head, and you looked up at Arisu who had a mix of emotions on his face, but you could make out the understanding in his expression, and that was all you needed.

Footsteps alerted you of their presence, and you shifted your head a little bit to see Kuina and Chishiya stepping into view. Kuina had a resigned look on her face.

Chishiya still looks tired, but despite this, his eyes were clear and sharp. He glanced at you, expression indifferent.

You have come to realise that you hate the indifference he often regards you with. Displeasure, annoyance, amusement, anything was better than indifference, because indifference meant you weren't worth anything in his eyes. For some reason, the thought left a bitter taste in your mouth.

A small voice in the back of your head told you that you still haven't thanked him. Before you could speak though, Chishiya was already addressing everyone in the room.

"That's the last IV bag needed, so when the drip is finished, just pull the needle out and place a bandaid over it. There might be bruising and other symptoms, but unless it's really severe, I doubt you would need to worry about it."

His voice was flat, and the instructions were so vague, you briefly wondered if he was trying to kill you off after working so hard to save your life.

"Don't jostle the bullet wound. Don't touch the wound. Don't do anything to aggravate it. Don't wash it either, the water around here is polluted. No alcohol, it'll slow down healing. Apply petroleum jelly whenever you change your bandage –I left some on that table over there– and use non-stick bandages. If you get an infection..." he trailed off, then shrugged, "just don't get an infection."

With a half-hearted salute, he turned away and started walking off.

Your mouth dropped, mind reeling as you stared at the retreating figure in a white hoodie. Your eyes flickered to Kuina who was giving everyone a small wave.

"See ya around. Don't die."

She gave you a pointed look, and before you could even reply, she was already turning and trailing after Chishiya.

"Wait–" You strained your throat calling out to her, and started hacking your lungs out. Karube and Usagi had stood up and chased after the duo, Arisu and Tatta staying by your side and trying to get you to drink water in between your coughs.

"Why are you leaving?"

"She doesn't need any more medical attention."

"She does! She's not fully healed yet–"

"And I repeat, she is not my responsibility. Her injuries are up to the point where even you numbskulls would be able to take care of it."

"Chishiya, don't be rude."

"Kuina, you're leaving as well?"

"There are some things we need to take care of."

"That's right, so please do not take up any more of my time."

"But–"

"Bye."

Footsteps, and then the closing of a door.

You heard Kuina whisper, "I'm sorry," before following behind and exiting the room.