Friends With Benefits | Chishiya x Reader

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Meaning, clearing the Hearts game would probably depend on the executives and a general possession of common sense. 

You groan. Should I just start planning my funeral now?

Another gunshot shatters glass panes in the floor below.

You wince involuntarily. The harsh sound of it brings you back down to earth hard, and the lurking urge to get away multiplies by tenfold. You carefully get to your feet, hand still against the wall, not wanting to begin running aimlessly again. Do that, and you'd probably die even sooner than expected. I just need to find somewhere safe. I can figure everything else out from there. You nod to yourself. Great. A vague plan, but good enough for now. You take a determined step forward.

When someone speaks, seemingly right beside you, you almost have a heart attack. 

"Are you a militant?" 

Your head snaps in the direction of the voice. It is soft and fearful, but you only breathe a heavy sigh of relief once connecting the words to a face. 

The voice belongs to a young girl, perhaps even younger than Momoka and her friend, your guess being around eleven or twelve. You are somewhat surprised that you hadn't noticed her entering the corridor - you had been alone up until now, accompanied only by your reflection and the near-but-distant gunshots. You must have been too wrapped up in the voice of doom to hear her footsteps. Her fingertips graze the same wall your hand presses against, and she stands as far away from you as possible. The distance is just enough for you to hear her as she keeps her voice cautiously low. 

"It's okay," you smile, trying to reassure her, and open your palms to her to indicate your lack of guns. "Just a resident."    

The girl stares at you, inspecting you for another harrowing second, before seeming to accept your answer. "Me too." She whispers. After a moment's pause, she adds on, "I'm Nao."

You introduce yourself in return, and she approaches timidly. In the dim glow of the overhead chandeliers, you can make out her features. In a way that makes your heart feel leaden, she reminds you of Setsuko - long, dark lashes and dark eyes. Nao is not blonde, however, with inky hair and a neat fringe. "I don't know where my sister is," she mumbles. "I think she was shot."

You blink. 

Caught off guard by how matter-of-fact the girl sounded, you find yourself unsure of what to say in response. You instinctively move to take her hands to try and comfort her but she recoils, looking at you warily.

"Ah, sorry," you whisper, moving back to give her space. "Force of habit."

Nao shakes her head, reaching out for you to raise your hands again. "It's okay," she says, grabbing your hand. "I got surprised. My sister does that, sometimes."

"Oh." 

You are still searching for the right words to say as Nao's fingers lock firmly into yours. It stuns you that she can be so straightforward about the absence of her sister; you figure it must be the famous adolescent ability to maintain hope, even if that hope is buried rather deep beneath surface level. You chew the inside of your cheek, considering. Besides, a bullet just anywhere doesn't equal instant death. If she was indeed shot, she may only be unable to move, not dead. You squeeze Nao's hand, deliberating on the best course of action.

"It'll be okay," you say softly. "Here, do you want to come with me? We can go find somewhere safe to hide for the time being, and then maybe we might run into your sister."

"Yeah," Nao murmurs, although she looks dubious about the last part. "Okay." 

You nod, letting go of one of her hands so the two of you can walk side-by-side, and she glances down at the hand of yours she still holds. "You have pretty rings," she comments.