Alice in Borderland

Chapter 1 - Like phoenix from the ashes

A game of hearts.

It is designed to play with the hearts of the participants and cast a spell over everyone. No one remains untouched by it, even people who seem to specialise in it. But the trick is that a game of hearts does not end with the conclusion of the game. People will always carry the effects of the game in their hearts and be influenced by it during their stay in Borderland. Most people don't realise it consciously, but heart players do. Sometimes we have to face the most difficult games that are outside the borders of this country.
Every participant and inhabitant of this land has something in common: they have not recognised their purpose in life and they all carry sadness and darkness within them. It seems that Borderland magically attracts people like us, like moths cannot turn away from the light. The participants who cannot solve their games are erased forever, perhaps because they have allowed themselves to be influenced by their past lives. They do not grow from their experiences, they stand still and lose the games. They die in fear without realising that they had the chance to become better. And those who take a second chance, who rise above themselves, survive in Borderland.
The flames of the game continue to spread and have now engulfed every inch of the Seaside Paradise Hotel. As the building collapses and sprays more sparks, the gentle wind fuels the fire and it blazes in the dark night. As I watch the fire dance without blinking, my eyes slowly begin to water with fatigue. I sit on the damp grass and ignore how the cold climbs up my bare legs while the heat hits my face even from this distance. Exhausted, my upper body slumps forwards slightly, but I ignore this warning signal and maintain my position.

I imagine I can hear the crackling of the fire as a respectful silence from the survivors envelops the vantage point and, with heavy hearts at the end of their tether, they watch their home and sanctuary in the Borderlands burn to the ground. All of us together have too many deaths to mourn for one night, and it is with horror and dread that most of us watch the venue burn down, while my expression remains strained and I don't even take my eyes off the fire.

'The wood panelling and carpets are burning like tinder, what was the architect of this hotel thinking?' I snort, shaking my head, and look at Yuudai, whose facial features look strained. I gently place my cold hand on his forehead in the hope that his expression will relax. He doesn't answer and my gaze returns to the hotel.

'You know, somehow this sight reminds me of my favourite book,' I sigh and start to speak again without receiving an answer. This silence, I felt it like a throbbing in my head on my first day in Borderland and the beach has soothed it. Feeling it again is unbearable. 'It saved my life in my first game. The book describes Dante's descent through the various circles of hell.'
One could easily think that I subconsciously associate life in Borderland with the descent into hell, but this is not the case. The circles of hell in Dante's work have always presented him with worse sinners and punishments, but one thought has always bothered me: Of course the author has chosen cruel mythological and historical characters to bring to the fore, but the basic principle of hell is that everyone will atone for their sins. People make a mistake and earn themselves infinite damnation, I wouldn't call that fair.

But as paradoxical as this may sound, Borderland is fair, in contrast to this mind game. Borderland is constant and the same rules apply to everyone: Play the games or you won't see dawn. Every new resident of Borderland must unsuspectingly take part in a game on their first night, no one is prepared. We all start the same and no one is above the laws and rules. Corruption, money or previous reputation don't save you from the red laser.

I think I see Borderland like Dante's journey. If you embark on it, you can grow in knowledge and skills until the end of your journey.
I look at Yuudai with a slight smile, but he still doesn't answer and I can't help brushing aside the strand of black hair that has fallen into his face. I gently cradle his head in my lap and run my fingers through his hair, as I have been doing lately when he has been overwhelmed by Izumi's death. His tired eyes are fixed on the burning beach with which he has so many memories.

I can't blame him for pointing a gun at me, how could I? He found his purpose in life in Izumi - one of the most honest souls in Borderland - and it was brutally ripped away from him. His despair and grief led him to think that revenge would take away this unspeakable pain. He couldn't think of anything else but getting rid of this inner emptiness, he was so numb and upset that there was nothing malicious about it. I saw how difficult it was for him to point the gun at me. He was trembling and couldn't hold back his tears, he was suffering.
I watch the fire in silence, but in the corner of my eye I can see two figures looking at us. Ann and Katsu scrutinise us carefully, but I keep stroking Yuudai's hair and can't take my eyes off him. They only have good things in mind, Yuudai has just pointed a gun at me and they're worried that I might be acting irrationally. But it's like this: I might just not have been there enough for Yuudai when Izumi died. But now I am.