The silence between us stretched as I guided Kara through the darkened halls of the building. Her steps were quiet, almost weightless, as if she wasn't sure she deserved to walk among the living.
The faint hum of the air vents echoed through the concrete. My hand never left the hilt of the knife, but not for fear she'd turn on me.
For fear I'd lose her—to guilt, to silence, to everything this place had already stolen.
When we reached the cinema, Rin was kneeling beside Iris, who was still unconscious, her breathing shallow but steady. A cloth was wrapped around her abdomen, stained deep red but not growing darker—at least not yet. Rin looked up the moment we entered. Her eyes immediately fixed on Kara.
She stood sharply.
"Kaius," she said slowly, voice laced with caution. "Why is she here?"
Kara didn't lift her eyes. Her arms stayed tucked close to her sides, like she was trying to take up as little space as possible.
"She's not a threat," I said firmly. "Not now."
"That's what we all said at the beginning," Rin replied.
"She came to me," I said. "With a knife… and asked me to end it. But I didn't."
Rin's brows lowered. She stared at Kara for a long moment, gauging something deeper than just appearances.
Then, unexpectedly, she sighed.
She stepped forward—and pulled Kara into a hug.
Kara flinched, startled.
"You didn't kill Iris," Rin whispered. "That's enough for me."
Kara didn't move. Then slowly, like a child afraid to be punished, she raised her hands and returned the hug.
No one said anything for a while.
The air between us was heavy with wounds—ones we all carried, whether physical or not.
After a time, we settled onto the soft carpeted steps of the cinema, using the space between seats to sit near each other. Iris remained propped up near the screen, still unconscious, her breaths steady. I checked her pulse again. Still strong. Still fighting.
We had time to kill before the morning announcement.
Time… to remember we were human.
"So," Rin said, leaning back, her eyes searching the dim ceiling. "Are we just going to pretend we haven't all tried to kill each other at least once?"
A weak laugh escaped Kara's lips.
"Maybe that's how friendships start here," she said. "Mutual attempted murder and emotional blackmail."
"Sounds like high school," I muttered.
Rin snorted. "You went to a terrible school."
"Didn't we all?" Kara added, voice quieter now.
A pause.
"You know," Rin said, "I used to think this game had rules. Logic. That if I just read everyone correctly, if I predicted the next step, I'd win. But it's not about winning, is it?"
"It never was," I said. "It's about who breaks first."
Kara looked at the floor. "I think I broke a long time ago."
"But you're still here," Rin replied. "That counts for something."
Kara's lips curled upward, barely a smile. "I didn't expect either of you to forgive me."
"I didn't say I forgave you," Rin said. "But I'm still sitting here with you. That counts for more than words."
They shared a look.
Something fragile, but real.
I leaned back, staring at the dim emergency lights lining the aisles.
"I keep thinking about who I was before this," I said. "The quiet kid. The one who always stayed out of the spotlight. But in here… I'm not sure if I'm the same person anymore."
"You're not," Rin said.
"None of us are," Kara added. "This place changes you. Forces you to become the one you hid for a long time just to survive."
"I liked who I became," I admitted. "But I hate that it took all this to bring him out."
"You were always that person," Rin said. "You just never had to be him before."
Silence settled again. Not heavy this time. Just... tired.
The kind of silence that follows after storms.
"So," Kara said suddenly. "If we do make it out of here… what do you think will happen next?"
"We move to Act Two," I said. "According to what you said before."
"Yeah, but… do you think it'll be worse than this?" Rin asked.
I didn't answer for a moment. Then I said, "Probably. But by then, maybe we'll be stronger."
"And what if we're not?" Kara asked.
I looked at her.
"You asked me to kill you. And you're still here. I think that means you're stronger than you think."
She looked away, her eyes misted again.
"I never asked to be the Fiend," she said quietly. "I never asked to become a burden. To live off other people. But when you're drowning, you'll grab anything, even if it's someone else."
"You're not a burden anymore," Rin said, her voice soft but unwavering. "You made a choice. That's all any of us can do."
For the first time, Kara didn't argue.
Kara tilted her head playfully. "You know what's funny?"
Rin blinked. "What?"
Kara grinned. "It's just… isn't it kinda funny that Caius is the only guy left?"
I sighed, leaning back against the wall. "Great. One guy stuck in a horror-thriller murder game surrounded by unpredictable women with sharp objects. My dream scenario."
Kara laughed. "No pressure, Caius. Just carry the entire masculine representation of humanity on your back."
"I already carry the whole game on my back," I muttered.
"You wish," Rin said, nudging me with her elbow.
"Hey, come on," I said, smirking. "Who figured out the Hostess? Who stalled the vote long enough for Desmond to use Penance? Who—"
"Yes, yes," Rin interrupted. "You're very cool and smart and scary. We know."
Kara leaned back and tossed a pillow at me. "Okay, enough ego boost. I'll give you credit when you cook dinner."
Rin perked up. "Actually, wait—can you cook?"
I hesitated. "I… mean, I've boiled water."
Kara looked horrified. "We're doomed."
"And here I thought you were the survival genius," Rin laughed.
"Hey, I survived, not cooked," I defended.
Kara smirked. "We need a new leader. Someone who knows how to make scrambled eggs."
"You can cook then?" I raised a brow.
Kara folded her arms proudly. "Obviously. I didn't grow up with rich people privilege."
Rin grinned. "Well then, if we ever get out of here alive, you're making breakfast."
Kara winked. "Only if you two do the dishes."
And just like that, we laughed.
We were still in the middle of hell. But for now…
We were just three people teasing each other, making jokes, and pretending for a second that everything was okay.
We sat there for hours—talking about nothing, about everything.
Old dreams.
Stupid memories.
The taste of real food.
The smell of rain.
Things the game had stolen from us piece by piece.
But in those hours, we started to remember who we were beneath the roles, the cards, the deaths.
Just three people.
Broken.
No sleep for couple of days.
Tired...
As the faint buzz of morning began to hum through the building, we remained there, close to Iris, close to each other.
Waiting for the voice of the announcer.
Waiting for what came next.