Replay

4-8 Junction (Pt 1)

A/N: @laizaaaaaaaah on Twitter drew some fan art of Blake & Frank! They have a second piece posted on their Twitter, if anyone is interested. Thanks again for the gift.

I decided to split this chapter into two parts after it became clear it would exceed 10K words. I didn't want to delay this chapter any longer, and I may later edit for clarity and flow, but the plot should remain the same. I hate that comments get displaced from the original context when I edit chapters, but there's nothing I can do about it.

To be honest, I've not been very invested in this fandom for some time now. From reviewing previous chapters of this fanfic and my notes of them, I can see the amount of care and time I put into it, so it'd be a waste to just stop in the middle. At the very least, I will finish this arc, even if it takes a while.

Thanks for sticking with me.

My arms creaked as I tugged on the door handle with all my weight, my sneakers squealing across the carpet, and all I was rewarded with was the door jerking open a centimeter before catching on something with a metallic clang. I let go, fingers sweaty and chest heaving, and slammed my fist against the cold wood. "You piece of shit!"

Maybe I was hallucinating hearing Hanma's gleeful laugh, muffled by the door. When we escaped, the first thing I'd do was report him to the police. How could he be so heartless as he trapped kids to their deaths in a burning building?

Then again, I'd always known he was capable of it. I'd just never been on the receiving end.

I'd failed to predict Kisaki's plans; he'd abandoned subtlety for reliable and efficient simplicity. Getting angry would only play to his tune—I needed to calm down and think. My fists trembled as I shut my eyes and took a deep breath. If not only to figure out our escape plan, but to defy Kisaki to the very end. To be above the sociopathic 14-year-old who thought he could manipulate the whole world to do his bidding.

There should be a back door in the church. If the fire had already spread to them from the steeple, however, then the windows lining the main hall's walls were safer. We could either unlatch or smash any window open and then chase after Hanma across the plaza if we wanted. It would be too easy.

If Kisaki wanted to kill us, then surely he wouldn't have overlooked such simple flaws, right...?

Regardless of his grand plan, escaping the fire was our priority. I rolled up the sleeves of my coat and wiped the sweat off my neck. The snow kicked inside from Hanma shoving me only moments ago had already melted away into a crimson splotch on the carpet before the doorway.

"Who the fuck are you? Who the fuck was that?"

I flinched and turned around to face Taiju. Scratches and bruises dotted his skin. His gaze was as cold as ice. I'd been too distracted to hear him approach or pay attention to the others trapped.

We couldn't fight now.

"That's not important right now. There's a fire upstairs, please evacuate." I tried to keep my voice steady and unprovocative, but it wavered. I then looked to Toman. Surprise was mirrored across their weary faces—skepticism and hesitation, which ultimately resulted in inaction. Had they just stood there for the past twenty seconds? I clenched my teeth and stepped past Taiju.

"There's a fire above us!" I yelled. "Can't you feel its heat or smell its smoke?"

Heat that could've just been from fighting, smoke that could've just been from the candles, or whatever excuses they were concocting. It would be too late if I had to wait until the fire licked at the ceiling over the hall for them to listen.