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"I shouldn't have teamed up with you."
Why did we end up like this?
"Choosing you for a partner was a mistake."
Did fate have to be so cruel to us?
Scaramouche played nervously with the pair of marbles in his hand, looking everywhere but the eyes of the only other person standing in the area with him. He continued to spit out meaningless statements in denial, hoping that maybe spoken regrets would wake him up from this horrific nightmare.
The rest of the marbles placed in the gray bag felt heavy in his other hand, holding the item by the string. He shuffled his feet with uncertainty, the dirt rubbing on the soles of his shoes as he struggled to form another sentence.
"We should...we should play."
You let out with a shaky voice, attempting to calm your own breathing. It took all your strength to not break down right then and there after hearing the rules, unable to meet Scaramouche in the eyes. However, your knees soon buckled, your legs giving out below you as you collapsed onto the floor, now reaching towards the marbles that spilled out of the bag.
Another presence soon looms over you, and you spot a familiar blur of indigo hair helping you pick up the rest of the marbles. Your hands continue to shake as you tighten your hands around the recovered items, holding them against your chest to mimic a sense of protection over what would soon cost you your life.
His familiar hand reaches for your shoulder, his expression much more calm and collected compared to your panicked one.
"We should."
The two of you sit down on the dirt, facing each other yet unable to truly meet eye-to-eye. You decide to look around instead, calming your mind by observing your surroundings. Two familiar pink-suited men with masks engraved with shapes stood on either side of the two of you, one of them holding a small pistol in their gloved hand.
The pistol that would soon be pressed against one of your heads.
You turned your attention back towards the male sitting before you, and in your now-composed state, you could finally see the truth behind his stoic facade; he was scared, perhaps even more than yourself, and conflicted all the same.
Only one of you can leave here alive, after all.
Looking at him now, you felt an odd sense of serenity wash over you, the previous fear completely gone. The situation was cruel, but if you didn't accept it now, both of you would reap the consequences.
"How about a guessing game?"
Scaramouche looks up to finally meet your eyes at the sound of your voice, unable to process your words mixed with his spiraling thoughts. You give him a gentle smile, reaching out and holding his hand in your own.
