HARPER

A Softer (W)Roulette

Hands on her hips, Miya watched Harper’s rapid change in expression with a slight tilt of her head. Geez, what was that? It took a lot of effort not to laugh, although she couldn’t decide if his crazy gestures or his failed attempt at communicating with words was funnier. An A for effort. Knowing that he was doing his best Miya held her tongue, although she was sure she was smiling a little wider than usual.

“Ahh, you gotta finish that off, huh?” Despite his less than stellar methods, after a few contemplative seconds the message had gotten across. “Gotcha~ Uhh, I mean, [Okay!]” Now she understood, of course he couldn’t smoke with his weird TV head on. The screen might fog up… don’t laugh, Miya Iwazumi.

Content to wait until Harper was satisfied, she took her place standing next to him, idly watching the smoke rise off of his cigarette. Smoking wasn’t unpopular in her crowd back in the real world, but for one reason or another she hadn’t picked it up. It wouldn’t suit her image, anyway.

“Still, a little stress relief wouldn’t hurt.” she mumbled; she didn’t mean to say it out loud, but after a split second of panic she remembered that while he probably heard her, wouldn’t be able to understand anyway. Not yet, at least. Still, she gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “[D…don’t mind~”]

Well, looks like he’d got the message across one way or another.  Hopefully he wouldn’t have to do that for again for a good long time.  Still... if he makes it out of this alive, he resolves it would be nice to actually learn some Japanese.  To communicate with his new friends without the use of the head... yeah.  That’d be great, actually.

His mind wanders, momentarily, to a couple other things that’d be easier if he didn’t have to wear a helmet all the time - and Harper flushes pretty crimson.  What an excellent thing that Miya can’t read his mind.

He’s content to stand in silence with her, but it seems like she still wants to try and chat.  She mutters something he doesn’t understand, and he’s about to remind her of this fact when she blurts out that she doesn’t mind.  Doesn’t mind?  Doesn’t mind what?  He puzzles over it as he finishes the cigarette and stubs it out on the sand.  The process of putting the helmet back on is long and irritating, but he’s getting faster at it all the time, and pretty soon he’s back in the land of being able to communicate.

“There we go.  Sorry about that.  I have a problem, and I hadn’t seen a fag since we arrived here.  Got over-excited.”  Harper delicately stoops down to collect the butt and stores it in his pocket to dispose of later.  Seems crass to just leave it there.  Then, halfway through standing back up, he realises.

It’s always been a tiny bit difficult reading Harper; that’s no real surprise considering well, he literally wears a mask. It’s not just that though– maybe it’s because they’d never had a proper conversation before. Off and on they’d talked, had a few run-ins but none lasting longer than an hour. He’d never had any doubts or suspicions about Harper though – it was just like, how to put it… they were in different circles. That was true in real life but it was surprising to know it could be possible here in an enclosed space, too.

He actually isn’t sure how this is going to go in the first place. Since they’re not on shining glowing terms it’s possible Harper IS suspicious of him or at the very least, doesn’t think much of him. It’s not like he hid his meltdowns in the beginning particularly well. Actually remembering this makes him a little embarrassed… geez. But as Kiyoyuki’s gaze goes to the floor and he begins to worry about it, about rushing into asking but then he hears the reply.

Warm words. Maybe he’d been stupid to fuss over it so much.

“Ahhh– oh– heh, thanks, I guess. It feels a lot lighter. I think I expected it to feel special but it really just uhh– feels lighter. Cause it is. Lighter.”

He makes a cutting gesture vainly and then realizes this too, is a little embarrassing before rubbing the back of his neck with one hand as the weak chuckles subside.

“It’s good finally talking to you though. I want… to know everyone as best as I can. Because memories will never die… something like that I guess.”

He shakes his head before going on.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to say that, I don’t want anyone else to suffer honestly! I guess I didn’t have much of an idea of what to do though, just talk, really… though maybe there’s something we can do to lift the spirits of the others? I-I’m not sure, really. I tried to surprise people with a party a while back but then… someone died…”

Awkward. He shakes his head, disappointed with his own words. If he’s trying to make a fresh new good impression on Harper he’s already bungled it. That probably shouldn’t surprised anyone at this point.

“Sorry, that’s a really bad subject. Uh, let’s start with how are you… I mean, are you holding up okay?”

Harper smiles at Kiyoyuki’s obvious distress, trying to help put him at ease a little.  “Yeah, I feel that.  It was pretty similar when I cut most of mine off, y’know?  Well, except that was more of a self-expression thing than anything else, so it felt kinda good looking at myself in the mirror and seeing someone who actually looked a bit more like how I, uh... how I felt on the inside.  Yeah.”  He nods solidly, satisfied this is something they can connect over.

The seiyuu seems determined to drive the conversation in to more morbid territory, however - small talk never quite does seem to be enough in this place, even though it’s the only talk Harper is any good at.  But time spent with Akihito has left him in a really pleasant mood, and one he’s quite determined to transfer to Kiyoyuki if he possibly can.

“It’s okay, man.  You don’t have to worry about putting your foot in your mouth around me.”  Gently, he claps the other boy on the shoulder, much as he had been clapped just moments before - it’s an odd feeling, but touching people on his own terms is a lot easier than being touched in return.  Still, he doesn’t leave his hand there for long, just in case it does get weird.

“As for me, I’m okay.  A lot better than okay, actually, which is probably pretty bad given the circumstances.  I dunno.”  Harper averts his eyes, just for a second.  “Chalk it up to the feeling of a moment.  It’s nothing.  I hope you’re okay too.”

He comes back to what Kiyoyuki said about lifting the spirits of the others, though.  It’s not a bad idea - it’s actually something Harper would like to do.  Of the remaining students, there’s really only one he’s not too keen on... and even to exclude her seems petty and pointless now.  

Harper being there was a pleasant surprise; better to hang out with him than mope around by herself. She raised an eyebrow at his abandoned TV head but kept her stride, waving as she approached.

“Well Mikey, aren’t you in a good mood–”

And then he continued, cutting her off with her mouth still slightly agape. English? Sometime between seeing Mike’s face and now she had forgotten that he wasn’t Japanese, and that expectant gaze made her think maybe he had forgotten too. Or maybe he just thought Miya was much better at English than she was. But he looked so happy… she couldn’t just leave him hanging.

“[H…hallo! Howayuu? M… my name is–]”

He’s pleased to see her smiling back - he’d been so cheerful himself that he’d forgotten that cheer might be seen as being in bad taste - but he can’t really make out what she’s saying, from that far away, with the waves in his ears.  Without his fake head filtering for him, ambient sound all feels very loud.   As Harper steps away from the shore, he waves her over with his free hand  “I can’t hear you!”

Something happens to her face then, though, and his relaxed expression transforms into a frown.  With the sea at his back now, he can certainly hear what she says next.

He stops, his face caught somewhere between alarm and amusement.  Oh, duh.  Harper almost laughs, caught on the back foot.  It’s been so long since he’s spoken English - really spoken it - he’d forgotten!  He could just put his translator back on, but... his eyes flicker from Miya’s puzzled face to the half-smoked cigarette in his hand and back.  Such a lovely moment to cut short.

Let’s see... does he remember any Japanese?

“Umm...” He takes a long moment to think, and when he speaks it’s in loud, stuttering tones, totally unsure.  “W-watashi wa... kono... ugh.  Um?  Shit!”  Waving his arms wildly, he gesticulates at the cigarette.  “This!  Cigarette!  I wanna finish it, I’ll only be a minute - i-chi-bun?”

He wondered briefly what it would’ve been like to live a holy life. Not for any spiritual reason but to contemplate whether it actually helped you make sense of it. And if you ever got that kind of glazed zen-like peace with it. He doubted he’d ever gain that. Too emotional. That’d… that hadn’t changed. One of the things that hadn’t from the start, he supposed. He’d just learned to accept it a bit more. And not to allow himself to play the victim – not when he could do something to change things. He stares at the creases in his gloves – how long had he been clenching his hands for? It’s been a while now. He hadn’t even realized… heck, how much time had even passed…

Not much time at all, right? Most everyone had exited the elevator. He must’ve zoned out as it happened. With a sigh, he falls back on one of the walls and just stares up. Jiang-li… Just… for how long had she been feeling all this? Was it since Annie made an attempt on her life… or even before that? Had anything he’d said to her even made a difference? They’d… talked in the kitchen. Made some food. She hadn’t been so good at that; he could’ve chuckled over it. That was… he was sure he’d told her it was alright then and not to feel guilty. Then they’d played– that’s what it’d honestly felt like. Playing. Like being a kid, like… forgetting the misery for a second. Drawing laughing, remembering… then she cried. Everyone had someone except her… damn it… wasn’t… wasn’t that her calling out for help? Had he missed his mark, messed up the timing? Could he, Kiyoyuki Irino, have saved Jiang-li de la Rosa’s life?

Not good. This thinking would kill him. He wasn’t a hero. Never was.

He hadn’t saved anyone; not Aiko, not Jiang-li. He wasn’t Tetsuo or Kyo, both who had perished. Perhaps both doing more than he ever could… or would. It was like no matter who he was around he could never be any good - any use. It really would’ve been better if Tetsuhiro had been the one to come here. Tetsu was smarter for sure. And braver. He was dedicated and cool. He was just– in the way. Damn it. Damn it all to hell. Why wasn’t character development instant?

Though he still had his doubts he tried to shrug them off. It’s all he could do. It’s not like he’d regressed again anyway. Akihito he– those things in the trial… he could never say something like that. In the end, Kiyoyuki stood by the things he’d said; they had to live, it was true. And though he regretted everything… regarding Jiang-li… and regarding the Gingerbread Man… he didn’t want to just give in. It was exactly as he said; even if he was a no good, he had to be a no good who’d stop Monobear. Someone had to. He could never be allowed to do this again. Right. That’s the spirit. He has to get his fighting spirit back. Snap out of it, Kiyoyuki! He’s not even the one who should be depressed here. Yeah, others need help more than he does. He needs to help them. Even if he’s no hero there’s no reason he can’t try some heroics.

He slaps his cheeks and then sighs before heading off in the direction of someone who’d headed off early. Catching up to them, he pats them on the shoulder and tries on some positivity for a change.

But it quickly vanishes.  It’s only Kiyoyuki.  It’s a weird moment: he’s not sure who he expected.  A stranger, maybe.  A ghost?

Slowly - still a little uneasy from the shock - the tension drains out of him, and he realises the seiyuu’s actually asked him a question.  Harper tilts his head a little, curious, and smiles.  He and Irino aren’t complete strangers, but they’re not really friends either.  Maybe this is his way of trying to build a bridge before the shit hits the fan?

It’s an offer Harper will gladly accept.  

“Dude, yeah.  Let’s hang out, I’m all for it.  I could use a distraction.  Did you have anythin’ specific in mind?”  He’s sure there’s something he’d intended to say to Kiyoyuki... he chews it for a moment, trying to recall...

if only

But one thing caught him completely by surprise.

“Eh–…. w…..wha…?” He had no words. Did he say… what he thought he said..? More than friends… he wanted that..? From… from someone like Akihito? He was speechless.. he had no idea what to say. He had literally zero experience to tell him what to say here. But.. something about that made him feel unreasonably happy. Someone liked him.. someone cared about him.. more than he’d ever thought anyone would.. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His cheeks turned a little red, flustered at the thought.. but all that happiness he felt came crashing down as Harper continued. ….Akihito felt the warm sting of tears pouring down his face. And.. using every ounce of courage he had, he reached over… and held Harper’s hand gently.. his own hand shaking just a bit now. This person cared.. he didn’t want to.. lose that. Besides… he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want the same thing. Maybe that night when he begged to stay in harper’s room for shelter was a hint to that after all.

“I… I’m sorry.. I know I’m a handful.. I hate that so much about me.. I’m just.. so scared of losing everyone.. ya’ve all made me happier than I’ve been in so may years, I had nothin’ before meetin’ any of ya.. Out of everyone, yer all I got left.. I just wanted t’ do what I always did an’ push ya away, push everyone away so it doesn’t have t’ hurt but it still does..it never stops… I thought things would be better if I just died already.. I wanted t’ die with th’ people that made me happy.. but I’m just makin’ everythin’ worse…” He breaks into sobs, gripping Harpers hand a little tighter..

“P-please don’t hate me.. d-don’t be scared of me.. I won’t.. say things like that again.. I-if I knew how ya felt I would’ve tries so much harder not t’ make ya hate me.. I’m so sorry.. P-please forgive me..”

There’s a pretty long silence after he stops talking, long enough for Harper to compose himself a little - though he daren’t relax.  Watching Akihito’s face in the wake of that lecture is an experience, and it’s with due trepidation he waits to see which point the other boy will pick up on first to cut to ribbons.  As it happens, though, he’s not out of surprises yet.

His hand tightens around the one that reaches out to grab it, instinctively, every muscle tensing in a moment.  “It’s okay, it’s okay,” Harper whispers to himself, as an involuntary shiver runs through his body.  Be brave.  You can’t talk a big talk about facin’ your fears and then back out.  

Gradually, he relaxes his grip, until his hand is merely holding Akihito’s and not crushing it alive.  It’s... a small step, but a good one.  A first one.  And, as difficult as it all is to hear, his words actually bring a smile to Harper’s face.  No façade is impossible to see past.

“I don’t hate you.  And hey, I know Iwazumi-san and Irino-san don’t either.  They’re good people.  And you’re one of us, right?”  He reaches up with his free hand to scratch his neck, awkwardly.  “Honest, man.  There’s nothing to forgive.  I get it.”

He falls silent then, feeling Akihito squeeze his hand, letting him cry it out.  There’s probably a ton of inspiring shit he could say here about hope and camaraderie... but he was never good at comforting people.  Maybe it’ll help that he’s comforted himself; there’s hope left for them, he thinks.  And even if this isn't some kind of true love... it’s pretty good.  It’s pretty good.

Instead of saying any of this out loud, his stomach chooses that moment to rumble, loudly.

“Ah...”  Harper’s smile turns sheepish. “Hey, I know what’ll cheer you up. I'm starvin’.  Let me cook for you.”

‘How long’s it been since ya talked t’ me.. Fer th’ past few days, I figured ya were avoidin’ me.. ‘s probably fer th’ best, considerin’ I’m cursed… Am I really yer friend..?” He sighs.. lowering his shoulders.

“If I keep talkin’ like this, will ya hate me..? ‘S that what I gotta do t’ make sure ya don’t get killed ‘cause of me..?” He looked back up at him again.

“Hey, great idea! Ya can just kill me now if ya wanna! I think everyone’s cleared out an’ gone t’ their rooms now, no better time like th’ present! If ya were really my friend, ya’d put me outta my misery already!”

Every time he thinks nothing this idiot boy can say can surprise him any more, Akihito sets out to prove him wrong.

“Of course I’m not going to fuckin’ kill you!  Do you hear yourself?!” Harper’s voice comes out strained, choked.  Too high-pitched.  Nip that in the bud.  “Why would I... why?  How little do you think of me?”  Use your words.  You can do this.

“You know what, you’re half right: I was avoiding you, after we saw those videos, because I saw you.  Servicin’ that slab of fuckin’ metal that’s keeping us all trapped down here.” He pauses, not for drama but because for a moment he’s lost what he needs to say.  

“And... I didn’t want to believe it!  I was freaking the fuck out, man!  I was ready to go confront you right there and then and demand the truth, shake it out of you if I had to, because I was so scared to think that this was a lie, all these ‘friendship’ hoops we jumped through!  But I didn’t do it.  I couldn’t face it.  I tried to calm down instead.”

Harper lifts his arms and wraps them around himself, protectively.  “You are such hard work!  And a lot of the time that work is too much for me.  But that’s okay, it’s work that I wanted to do.  You treated me kindly when I was upset, and I wanted to do the same for you.  I wanted to be your friend.”

He pauses for a split second, glances around.  The hall is empty now.  His heart leaps in his chest.

“I... maybe I wanted to be more than that.”  

It’s little more than a murmur, back well within his regular decibel levels now.  Harper averts his eyes, his expression unreadable; looks anywhere else.  “I don’t know.  I don’t know any more.  You’re scarin’ me, man.  There’s so few of us left now.  We have to... we have to support each other, or else what do we have?  You have to hold on to life, Ozu-san, you have to believe there’s still something worth keepin’ goin’ for.”

“Don’t you get it?! I’m th’ last sane person left in this place!! Why th’ hell do ya guys wanna stay!?–”

He just had to say it.. not care..?

“Heh…heheh… w-what’s left t’ even care about? Maybe if that TV of yer’s actually got a signal, ya’d see what I mean. Everyone I’ve gotten close t’, everyone that’s even considered me a friend is dead. The last thing Cookie Dude did before he died was ask me to be my friend. Listen up, dipshit, Akihito Ozu ain’t allowed t’ have friends! I didn’t have ‘em before coming here, and I shouldn’t’ve made any here at all. Would’ve hurt a lot less, y’know? So do I care? Nah.. not anymore at least. It’s over, man. It’s all over.”

“Stop it!”

His hands ball into fists as Akihito’s ranting becomes more and more paranoid, until finally he can’t listen to it any more.  The words escape him with far greater volume than that to which his peers are accustomed, and with it comes a sharp burst of static.  His expression is lost in the white noise for a horrible moment, before normal service resumes.

“Please!  Just... stop it.  I can’t stand you talking like this.” Harper's eyes are pricking with tears behind the glass, and he hates it so much that he can’t shrug it off, he can’t stop caring the way Akihito claims to have. “Do you know how hard I tried to be your friend?  Do you have any idea how hard it is havin’ t’listen to you saying - ”

“What’s outta line? I’m just bein’ honest. Ya guys’re all masochists, y’know that? why th’ hell would anyone even wanna continue on with this bullshit? Ya know where it’s gonna lead ya anyway! Might as well get it over with, all quick an’ painless like!”

He has to let it wash off him - like water off a duck’s back, he reminds himself.  If he lets what Akihito is saying get to him he won’t be able to go through with this.  It’s in the interests of not having to raise his voice that he steps closer, closing the gap between the two of them somewhat.

“You proposed a plan in the trial, and as a group we decided to veto it, because it was insanity!  The product of a deranged mind, Ozu!  Will you please try to respect our decision, the decision of people who are supposed to be your friends?”

The students arrived back in the dorm hall, the nightmare over… for now at least. As everyone tried to return to the barely hanging on sense of normalcy this place had given them, Akihito leaned against the wall, chuckling to himself.

 “Talk about sentimental.. if ya guy’s are so beat up over her death, ya should’ve all listened t’ me! Then no one would be around t’ even feel bad, ya get what I’m sayin’? Jeez, ya’ll need t’ start listenin’ t’ th’ smart one here!”

But no.

He has to stop telling himself that.  You can only give someone so many chances.

Harper turns, locking eyes with the electrician from behind the glass.  It’s a long, tense moment before he can put his words in order, and one during which - he’s painfully aware - the others are still watching them.  He doesn’t want to fight, it’s just... he's known it from some time now, ever since that personal-ish conversation with Iwazumi-san.  He has to say something, some time.

“The infirmary’s a good idea. Maybe whoever went after Gingie got hurt, yeah?” It struck her as a logical conclusion – Gingie wouldn’t be one to go down without a fight. Not to mention all the broken shards of sharp stuff lying everywhere.

Or none of that could be true and she could end up being an even worse detective than she thought. Miya shrugged, content to quit speculating and get as far away from the corpse as possible. “Well, it’s the best plan we have! Follow me, partner~”

Miya led the two of them through the hallway into towards the infirmary, keeping a lookout for anything amiss on the way there. Normally she would have felt better with some idle conversation, but it wouldn’t feel right considering the reason behind their little stroll. Thankfully it didn’t take long to get from one side of the floor to the other, keeping her uncomfortable silence relatively short.

The infirmary is empty.  Harper’s not sure what he expected.  He slides past Miya to stand inside the room, and has to pause, a little overwhelmed.  There’s no trace here of the struggle from two investigations ago, but his eyes still wander to the spot where they’d found the hair that damned Annie in the end.  He doesn’t want to be here.  Why had he even suggested it?

... he looks away and ignores it, wondering where to start.  Nothing jumps out.  But his partner’s eyes are sharp, and she points out what he probably would have missed: the medicine cabinet doors, slightly ajar.

“... you’re right,” he murmurs.