Friends With Benefits | Chishiya x Reader

Chapter Sixteen

☆ In which you find that there are some occasions orchestral music should not be playing over. ☆

"What the fuck?" the Spades player spits. He stumbles backwards as blood pours from his shoulder. Red is sprayed against the white walls of the room. The Clubs girl rushes towards him, but he pushes her away. "Are you insane?"

The Melon Man holds the smoking gun, not moving his arm from where he holds it, aimed at the Spades player's left shoulder. He looks expectantly at his phone for it to read, 'Game Clear,' but it never does. The timer has run down to 40 minutes left. "At least we know it isn't you now that we can see your blood," he huffs.

"Didn't you listen? There's no actual white blood!" The Spades player yells. "I'll kill you, you little-"

 "Can't you see I have a gun?" the Melon Man shouts back. "Nails in your own coffin, boy!"

The Spades player lunges at him. Taken aback, the Melon Man drops the gun and dives out of the way. The Spades player lurches, blood still flowing from the bullet wound in his shoulder, and moves to reach for the gun. The Melon Man tackles him before he can grasp the weapon, and the gun spins away.

"What's your problem?" the Spades player swore. "Get off me, psycho!"

You watch as the gun stops directly at the feet of the bandaged woman. She slowly bends to pick it up, unnoticed by the tangle of people on the floor.

"I was doing the group a favour! Do you see anyone else doing anything to finish this damn game? I eliminated a suspect-"

The Melon Man stops mid-sentence, interrupted by another bang. His mouth lolls open as red bursts from his temples, splattering both the walls and the man in front of him. His body tumbles off the Spades player, who scrambles backwards in a panic, eyes bulging. A bullet is lodged in the stained wall behind him. 

"What the-" he gasps, and his eyes travel agonizingly upwards. 

The bandaged woman looks down at the gun in her hands with mock disbelief, like she can't quite comprehend the fact she shot the man now pooling blood on the floor. You almost commend her for the expression she has made. A perfect bullet hole is visible at the back of the Melon Man's head.  

"I had to," the woman says, too shakily. "He would've killed us all."

The Spades player continues to gape at her, stupefied. A stripe of blood runs down his cheek, parallel to his scar. It seems the effect of how close the bullet was to piercing him in the head as well is setting in. The Clubs girl chokes out a sob, and one of the Irrelevant Three dashes over to check out the Spades player's wound. 

You study the woman, who still holds up the gun. The first gunshot was unexpected, but this one was not. The woman got lucky - the perfect opportunity to kill a player without giving herself away had been presented, allowing her to hide behind the guise of keeping the rest of you safe from an unpredictable man. She has now also opened another opportunity to kill someone else - the thing about shock, is that it is universally understood that people do crazy things in a state of panic. She could play at being so rattled, any sudden movement toward her would startle her into pulling the trigger again. 

The high schooler takes a step towards the woman, hands up in a show of peace. The woman spins towards her, gun aimed at the young girl. 

Here is her second opening.  

The high schooler's eyes widen as she stares down the barrel of the gun, and she reaches for her sleeve. You see the glint of a knife's blade - a stupid move, because jumping someone with a knife is like asking to be shot. Since Chishiya looks like he would rather be shot himself than do anything to help, you take a careful step forward and firmly place your hand on the girl's shoulder. She looks at you with scared eyes, knife still hidden up her sleeve. 

"Alright, that's enough," you say, making sure to keep your voice even. "I know you didn't mean to shoot him. You were scared, right? I get it. We all understand why you did it, he was a dangerous man, like you said. But right now, you're also scaring us as well. If you put the gun down I'll make sure no one else touches it, so you don't have to worry about getting hurt, okay?" 

You know the woman could not care less whether you're scared or not, but what matters is that if she disregards you she will be both putting herself in a difficult position and losing the sympathy of the people in the room. Right now, if the woman doesn't want to reveal herself as the dealer, she will do as you say. However, there is always the possibility that she really doesn't care at all and will try to shoot you anyway.

If that's the case, you can always duck.

The woman reluctantly places the gun on the floor, trying to look harmless. But her annoyance shows and you catch the distaste in her eyes as she looks up at you. You almost smile. 

Recalling the instructions, you weigh your options. In order to clear the game you needed to find the Dealer, but at this point you don't think just identifying her as the Dealer will clear the game. It seems she has to die in order for you to win, or spill blood at the very least. Perhaps that was why that cryptic line was included in the instructions. 

So the gun wasn't just a distraction, you muse. If anything, it adds to the flair of a Hearts game. In an alternate timeline, someone else would pick up the gun and have to decide who to kill out of a room of innocent people, or chance the fact that the Dealer hiding among the group was really someone they had grown to trust. What a shame it must be that you have no attachments to this woman whatsoever.

Another of the Irrelevant Three finally speaks. "There's twenty-five minutes left," he says hesitantly. You take your hand off the high schooler's shoulder and the woman slinks back to the table, pretending to look for more clues. The gun remains on the floor. As much as it is in your best interests to, you didn't really want to shoot the woman. She was probably just trying to survive, like the majority of the people in the room. You are aware of Chishiya watching you, his back still against the wall untouched by red.

The Spades player limps over to you, dripping blood as he moves. The girl next to you steps backward hurriedly. 

"There's twenty minutes left," he rasps. His voice is barely audible over the cellos now playing vigorously over the loudspeaker. You look at him questioningly, and he flicks his eyes toward the bandaged woman. Is it her? he seems to be asking. You shrug in response; I think so.

He slowly bends down and wraps his bloodied hand around the gun. For once, you are too slow on the uptake, and you only stare as a bullet punctures the head of the bandaged woman. She crumples to the floor as her blood decorates the table in front of her. The orchestral music stops.

"Game clear."