a/n: this is very heavily inspired by that one editing trend on tiktok. you'll understand which one i mean when you read it lmao
cw: depictions of dissociation, death, blood, suicidal thoughts and season 2 ending spoilers
Summary: Arisu can't stop pretending Chota and Karube are still there
Word count: 1128
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The bar was empty. Drinks being passed around between Karube and Chota and Arisu as shitty fluorescent light bounced off the wooden counter.
A cold, blue glow. Old light bulbs flickering in the back.
Arisu leaned back on the bar stool, drink in hand. He took in a deep breath. His lungs felt shallow.
His friends laughed, lost in some melodramatic conversation about their futures or their dreams or whatever. He didn't really catch most of their conversation. In fact, he didn't catch much of anything.
He tried to zero in on their voices, but they sounded muffled. Underwater. He almost felt like he wasn't entirely there. Like if he reached out for one of his friends, they would just fade through his touch.
Like he was dissociating.
But it wouldn't be the first time tonight. In fact, he'd been feeling like this for weeks. Out of touch. Out of body. Not real.
He was probably just drinking too much.
He felt hazy, weighed down coming back. Like getting out of a pool and finally realizing how heavy the water was.
He smiled. He could finally hear their conversation: what they would do if they were rich.
"You know, I would—" he began, but it wasn't long before Karube stopped him.
"Arisu. Stop it."
Karube sounded serious. Face cold. The laughing had ended so abruptly, Arisu could almost hear his own heartbeat. It was like when you turn off white noise and realize just how loud the silence really is. The silence sounded wrong, like it was deafening.
"What?" He laughed nervously, scared and unamused but unwilling to accept it.
"Pretending we're still here."
His stomach churned. The weight was back, but this time he felt all of it. He grasped for the counter top as he sank into the floor to anchor himself, but it faded away. Chota and Karube dissolved like dust. Everything was inky and black.
He was pulled in by his feet.
He had no air. He could feel himself beginning to suffocate. His head ached like it was about to explode. Everything was cold. He tried to flail upwards. But which way was up?
He opened his eyes. Above him, a faint, shimmering light. He followed it. He pulled himself out of the dark water with a violent gasp and ragged breathing, finally filling his burning lungs with air as he grasped at the earth in front of him. Dirt got stuck under his nails, cold and slimy, but he got himself out.
