OUTLANDISH

0.2

CHAPTER 0.2 - Phones and Phonies

"ROUND ONE WILL NOW COMMENCE."

THOSE are the last words the robotic voice sings before a loud chime is heard, a trigger that pushes all players to the balls of their feet— including you. Your mind is polluted with nothing but questions; what is this game? Why do you have to clear it? What happens if you don't?

You turn to see everyone else, watching as they stare apprehensively at their respective cards, their faces illuminated by the faint glow of the colors just enough that you can pinpoint which one is which. Four other players have the same predicament as you— three women and one man with hands unfortunate enough to draw a red instead of green.

So, you need to swap if you want to clear the game?

"Akemi, swap with me." A firm, womanly voice cuts through the thickness of the air, coming from the lips of that curly-haired woman you had an awkward eye contact with prior. She speaks to her partner, another girl with short black hair adorned by clips, who hurriedly hands her own card, attempting an effective swap. Akemi sighs softly when her card, now in the possession of the curly woman, turns green.

There are only three unlucky people left; strangely, four, counting yourself. You need to swap too, but who do you swap with? You know nobody here— you don't even know who you are.

"Oi! Give me your card, Hanzo." The smirking man calls out loudly to his partner, even though the man in question is just beside him. He reaches his card out, and you notice his fingers are adorned by colorfully stoned rings. It doesn't quite suit him. His friend, looking exasperated, gingerly takes the red card, swapping it with his own green one.

"Please be quieter, Noburu-san," Murmurs the man with the glasses, pushing his frames up the bridge of his nose. Noburu simply ignores him with a flick of his chin to the air. Hanzo glances in your direction, effectively snapping you out of your reverie, just as you feel a tap on your shoulder. You look over over, bright blue hair appearing in your vision.

"H-Hey," the once-distressed man stammers, fidgeting in his place. For one who sports such bold tattoos, you feel a tad surprised by the current state he's in. His unease has been radiating, more so than the young girl still shyly tucked away in the corner. What was he so panicked about earlier? Green appears in your peripherals, and it is then you notice he's handing out his card for you to take. He wasn't one of the unlucky people, so it isn't the cards he's worried about.

"I.. I noticed you didn't have anyone close.." He clarifies, standing awkwardly, and you swear you see him gulp. Was he scared of you? Perhaps, the game? Why would he be? Your heart thrums again like it knows something you don't, a sense of unease lingering within your chest. The air is quiet and tense even as people shift and murmur amongst themselves, the walls of the office suffocating. You swap cards and watch as yours— now his, blinks into a verdant green.

"Thank you..." you thank him, your voice scratching through your throat like a bunch of knives from how many hours you haven't talked, but at least the taste of saltwater wasn't there anymore. You feel the urge to tell him your name, as though to solidify the only thing you know of yourself, finding solace in how the syllables roll off your tongue. "I'm [Name]."

"Katashi," he offers a smile and your lips twitch into one as well.

"Say," he continues, his shoulders falling lax, his apprehension no longer as evident as he twirls your card— his— between his fingers. His wrist is adorned by something; a wristband of some sort, with a number on the blue appendage. It looks similar to the ones his friends had, who, you noticed, had swapped cards earlier as well. The girl with the yellow cardigan had drawn a red card.