Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Kira Timurov stood in front of one of the many large windows overlooking the main entrance to St. Dominic’s.

She watched as the returning students walked through its massive gates, barely paying attention to what by now had become a normal sight.

The new arrivals were the ones Kira liked to watch. Their expressions of awe, hunger, and determination always amused her.

Most of them would soon lose that look, seeing it replaced in the mirror by one of heaviness and horror at their circumstances.

The small number that could cut it would become more and more unhinged as time went by.

You either survived or you didn’t but no one left this school the same as they entered it.

To her left, standing a respectful distance away, was Riri.

She too was overlooking the main courtyard, though Kira was fairly certain they weren’t looking for the same thing.

Mary. That one had managed to truly rapture her sister.

While it was obvious to Kira that Riri was in love with Mary, she wasn’t sure where they stood. She had wanted to ask but hadn’t been able to bring herself to.

They stood together in silence. Not looking at each other, not talking with each other. Simply occupying the same space.

The gap between them had never been so deep, so laden with unspoken words.

Kira felt like something had broken that day, when their father announced Riri would be the student representative to the board instead of her. When she had attacked her sister—and Riri decided to simply let her

That was the first—and only—time Kira had used violence against her sister.

She knew she should apologize. Try to mend things. She just didn’t know how, though. She knew the words, of course, and the order they should be spoken in. She just couldn’t make them sound sincere.

She had practiced dozens of times, and yet every word, every sentence, even the way her face moved had sounded and looked hollow—fake—like she didn’t mean it.

And that was the problem. In a way, she didn’t mean it. Oh, she meant she shouldn’t have done it, but she couldn’t pretend she hadn’t wanted to hurt Riri, the way Riri had hurt her.

So how could she apologize to her sister, knowing that in that moment, all she had wanted was for Riri to stop breathing?

She couldn’t. So she didn’t.

The worst part about all of it was that almost nothing had changed in Riri’s behaviour after that day.

Riri still remained her loyal shadow, always a step behind Kira. Waiting for her instructions and words. Waiting for her attention. Just waiting.

She didn’t have to, at least not anymore. Their father had clearly picked his favorite, and that choice came with power and influence.

Power and influence that had once belonged to Kira, as the eldest child.

Power and influence that now belonged to Riri. And yet Riri still acted as if Kira was the one in charge.

It infuriated Kira. She had spent her life chasing their father’s approval—only for him to call her a child and hand everything to Riri.

And what did she do with her newfound position? Nothing—except look at Kira.

It was maddening.

Timurovs weren’t made for love. Yet when her father brought Riri home with him and told her that the little girl in front of her was her sister, Kira had loved her.

Kira had loved her sister, despite being a Timurov, despite love not coming easily to them. And Riri loved her back.

Maybe Kira’s love for Riri ran as deep as her resentment. So what? So what if, tangled in that love like decaying vines, was something rotting and mad? It was still love—the only kind of love Kira knew. That had to be enough.

It was enough.

Kira had loved her sister, even as Riri stabbed her in the back. Even while her hands wrapped around Riri’s neck, leaving bruises shaped like claws. Even now, with a chasm between them, Kira still loved her sister.

Riri loved her back. That hadn’t changed.

Almost nothing did.

Except for the one thing that did.

Riri had never looked at her with fear before. Now she did.

Every time they stood too close. Every time their father made one of his cutting remarks. Every time a minor inconvenience happened and Riri was close by she would get a fearful look in her eyes.

Riri still loved her. Still stood by her side. But now, she was afraid of Kira.

And Kira didn’t know how to change that. Timurovs thrived on fear. Kira had learned how to cause fear, never how to erase it.

So now here they were—at a stalemate: one sister unable to fix it and the other too afraid to bring it up.

Riri’s slight movements brought Kira back to the window and to the halls of St. Doms. The sun was fully illuminating the hall now, casting their shadows clearly against the wall.

Kira didn’t spare her a look. There was no need—she could clearly see what had stirred Riri’s excitement.

Mary. Walking side by side with Yumeko. It was clear they had come together.

They were slowly walking towards the main building, arm in arm and heads thrown back in laughter.

The other students around them either moved aside or stopped to see them pass, but they seemed too focused on each other to pay anyone else much attention.

Kira only saw Yumeko. It was easy to do so. Yumeko had a way of captivating people, even people as unreachable as Kira.

Their poisoned kiss, deadly gamble and easy alliance came to mind unbidden.

Kira watched as Yumeko and Mary walked into the building disappearing from their view.

She wanted to go to her. Talk to her. See how she was doing, what she was planning. But kept herself rooted in place.

There would be time for all that later. For now, Kira had a job to do.

They stayed waiting and watching as one by one the remaining members of her student council returned to St. Doms.

Most of them returned without fanfare—except, of course, for Chad and Suki.

Wherever Chad went, a sea of women followed—each one trying to get his attention more than their counterparts. Chad, used to this by now, was careful to smile and exchange a few words with them.

He was smart for that. Most of these girls, Kira knew, had already shared his bed or soon would. What made them keep coming back was the small amount of hope he gave them. Hope that they would be his number one, his only one.

Honestly, at this point, if they couldn’t see how little they meant to him that was on them.

Suki’s was different. He returned with his committee of house pets trailing behind, carrying his bags and a few people approaching for pictures and what not.

In his hand, like always, was his phone and even from this distance Kira could tell he was streaming his return for his adoring followers.

Kira wasn’t a fan of social media, but even she had to admit it had its uses, especially when in Suki’s capable and masterful hand.

She knew soon enough he would be talking about her, reminding everyone how much he loved her. And if they loved him, and he loved her, then they too should love Kira.

It made for quite the pretty contrast, the amount of fear and love she commanded here.

They waited until the last member of the student council entered the main building.

Together, they slowly walked towards the student council office, where she was certain, everyone else had already gathered.

Kira could barely make out their voices behind the heavy doors separating the room from the hall, but she sensed trouble was already afoot.

Trouble seemed to follow them anytime they were together without either Kira or Riri to keep them at bay.

Inside they went.

Their appearance silenced the room—then, an explosion of sound and excitement took its place.

Kira answered their questions and listened to their words but her mind was on Yumeko—the only one not speaking. Her smile stayed carved in place, though. She kept her eyes firmly on Kira, watching every movement she made.

Kira didn’t smile back. In fact, she pretended to barely notice Yumeko’s presence and attention.

Somehow that made Yumeko’s smile widen.

Kira allowed a few more words to be exchanged, mostly for her sister's sake. Riri and Mary were quietly talking to each other and Kira noticed the hint of a blush peeking through Riri’s mask.

Mary wore a prideful smile.

Kira rolled her eyes.

She may not care much for Mary but she seemed to make Riri happy, so Kira decided to give her the benefit of the doubt.

She tapped her knuckles twice against the table bringing instant silence back to the room.

“For those unaware,” she said, locking eyes with Yumeko, “the Leaderboard opens tomorrow morning, so no official bettings until then.”

Yumeko pouted, clearly put off by this, but kept silent.

Dori, who had been here as long as Kira and knew how things worked, didn’t. Her groan was loud and obnoxious.

Everyone ignored her.

“Later tonight, we will hold an assembly for the new students to explain how things work around here. Any volunteers?” Everyone looked surprised, Kira was the one who usually gave the introduction. This time, though, she didn’t want to. She was tired—tired of doing everything herself with no reward in sight. “Well?”

Suki’s hand shot into the air.

“If you’re sure mother, I would be happy to do it.” His voice carried genuine enthusiasm, but Kira could still see the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, as if he expected her to change her mind at any moment.

“Suki will do the introduction,” he squealed by her side. “In the meantime I’ve got a few files with info on the new students. A couple names stand out, do with that what you will.”

Riri started distributing the files. Chad was the first to open them, looking each photo over before moving on to the next file.

Kira considered throwing a chip at his face—but dismissed the idea. Too juvenile.

Fortunately, Mary didn’t seem to care, and a loud yelp echoed through the room a second later.

“What the fuck was that for?” he snarled, rubbing his now reddening forehead.

Kira noticed Riri moving closer to Chad. Chad didn’t.

“Oh sorry, my hand slipped.” Said Mary in the least apologetic tone Kira had ever heard in her entire life.

Across the table, Dori laughed and hungrily asked if they could throw a knife next.

Runa scribbled something on a slip of paper and slid it towards Yumeko—who got that look she did when there was a bet involved.

Before Kira had a chance to intervene, and hopefully defuse the situation, Chad was already talking again.

“Bitch.”

Mary didn’t even respond, not that she needed to. Riri had a vice grip on Chad’s hair, yanking his head against the chair making room for her sharp and glinting knife against his throat.

“Enough.” Was the only word Kira had time to say—thankfully fast enough to prevent the small nick Riri had made from turning into a puddle of blood. For now.

Everyone held their breath.

She and Riri locked eyes—for the first time in months. Kira resented Chad for making it happen over something as stupid as this.

Still, it wouldn’t do any good to have a member of her council die so soon into the semester, especially by her sister’s hand.

Riri stopped moving the knife, but didn’t take it away. Better than nothing Kira supposed.

“Chad,” she said, keeping her voice as indifferent as possible, “maybe next time I give you a file you do more than just look through the photographs. Agreed?”

He wanted to nod, she could tell, but the grip on his hair and knife at his throat made that hard.

She leveled Riri an unimpressed look. Slowly but surely Riri relented, kindly moving the knife and loosening her grip on his hair, allowing him enough space to finally nod.

“Excellent.” She turned towards Mary, who was looking at her sister in a way that Kira really didn’t want to think about. “And Mary, maybe next time you try a new trick you’ll be a bit more careful, yes?”

Her comment got a few snorts and giggles, Yumeko’s was the one Kira heard the loudest.

“Sure thing, Kira” said Mary, giving her a casual thumbs up.

Kira rolled her eyes and looked at Riri, silently asking her sister to leave Chad alone. He had already been punished for his indiscretions.

Kira didn’t think Riri agreed with her—judging by the extra seconds she held onto his hair— but she did let him go.

Riri had always been better at holding a grudge.

Kira returned her attention to the table. Everyone had already moved on, waiting to see if Kira had more instructions.

She looked each of them in the eye.

“Next week we’ll discuss this year's budget,” Kira said. Riri was already handing out new files, “so I expect you all to bring some ideas for events and galas. The traditional ones will happen, of course, but I’m open to ideas on how to make them more interesting.” She was about to continue when Manyuda, her treasurer, raised his hand. She motioned for him to speak, already knowing what he was about to say.

“While our coffers are fuller than last year’s” he paused, adjusting his glasses so they sat better upon his nose, prompting a few cheers and whoops from the others, “I would still like to remind you all that this doesn’t mean we can just start spending it all on parties.”

Kira smiled internally. Manyuda may be a snake but he was a snake careful with their money.

“What’s the point of all this money if we don’t use it?” Sarah. This one had remained in the top ten much longer than Kira expected but she had very little sense.

“Because Sarah-san, we can spend it on better things than parties and galas.”

As much as Kira enjoyed some biting amongst her council she had better things to do than listen to these two.

“If we can keep our budget under control, and get enough out of this year's fundraising,” her next words were for Yumeko’s sake alone, “I expect everyone to convince their parents to attend, by the way. I can assure you interesting things will happen.”

She allowed them to try and pry the information from her, all in the name of watching Yumeko try to keep her excitement in check. Kira didn’t think she was being very successful, with those almost red eyes practically glowing. Still as fun as it was, all good things must come to an end in the name of business.

“I expect not to see a repeat of last semester. I want everyone with their head in the game.” They all nodded. “I will see you all for Suki’s speech.” It was a clear dismissal and they all took it like one, already getting up from their seats to unleash whatever mischief they had planned. “Yumeko, stay. There’re a few more things we need to discuss since you didn’t have the proper explanations last semester.”

“Sure Kira-san.” Was it Kira’s imagination or did Yumeko’s voice sound lower and purrier than usual? She chose not to overthink it, Yumeko was probably just excited to talk about their plans.

Yumeko, while very much already in a perfect place to speak with Kira, still stood from her chair and sauntered towards her, dropping herself in the now-vacant chair to Kira’s left. Her crossed legs bumped against Kira’s but Yumeko made no move to adjust her position.

Kira refused to be the one to move. She’d been there first, after all.

She looked away from Yumeko’s eyes and focused on her sister.

Riri was looking towards the door, not even noticing how close Yumeko and Kira were.

Love truly made fools of them all it seemed.

“You can go too,” she said, not meaning for it to sound unkind but Riri’s surprised and almost hurt look told Kira she had failed.

Kira was once again confronted with her inability to bridge the gap between them. Instead, all she could do was refocus her attention on Yumeko and wait for Riri to leave. It didn’t take long but each second felt heavy with lost hope.

She spied her sister leaving out of the corner of her eye and felt the tightness in her chest sharpen.

“Is everything alright with you two?” Yumeko’s voice was soft—too soft. It made Kira want to slap her.

“Of course.” The sharpness with which she said it caused Yumeko to flinch, but her carefully constructed smile returned in an instant. Kira refused to feel bad, Yumeko had no right to stick her nose where she wasn’t concerned.

“I asked you to stay back so we could discuss strategy.” Yumeko immediately brightened. It wasn’t just their knees that were brushing now, Yumeko was so close to Kira that she wondered if Yumeko was planning to move straight to her lap. “Move.”

Yumeko looked down at herself and seemed to only now realise how close they were, her smile didn’t lose its spark—or the dangerous and manic edge Kira had come to associate with Yumeko—but she did move back. Maybe an inch, probably less.

Kira gave her an unimpressed look.

Yumeko pouted but this time did as she was told, moving her body away from Kira and fully settling into her chair.

Kira wondered if Yumeko had any idea of how much Kira was allowing her to get away with. Were it anyone else they’d be dead by now.

The things she endured for her goals.

“I’m not sure how much information you gathered after you killed Gabriel…” she waited to see if Yumeko was going to say anything but she just kept the expectant look in her eyes. Kira sighted. “Michael is now in charge of his fathers enterprise, last I heard things weren’t going very well for him.” She stopped, expecting to see remorse in Yumeko’s expression—but there was none. And they called Kira cold. “Gabriel cultivated a certain amount of respect through force and fear. Michael, however, lacks all of his fathers qualities. I know my father tried to talk with him, but I guess my accusation left a small amount of doubt since he refused.”

This brought a smile to her face. Oh her father had been furious with Michael but especially with her. She remembered how close he had come to hitting her again. Strangely enough he had contained himself and chose to go with the usual silent treatment and cutting comments.

It was funny how just one day could change things. Kira from the day before would have felt that behaviour through her bones, would have done anything to get back into her fathers grace. This Kira—the one that just wanted him dead—found his abuse nothing more than a sad attempt to maintain control of his family.

It was freeing.

“I'm not sure he will join back this year but I have people keeping an eye out and you will be informed if he does.” She stopped, looked Yumeko right in the eye, and uttered her next words as clearly as she could. “You are to stay away from him if he comes back.”

Yumeko's breath sounded like a purr.

“Kira-san, I wasn’t sure you cared.” She winked. Fucking winked.

Kira wanted to slap the brat off of her but had a feeling she’d kill her before she managed to.

She decided to ignore the comment. Yumeko thrived on getting reactions out of people, and Kira wasn’t about to give her one.

“But Kira-san, while I appreciate your concern for my safety, I'm afraid I can’t do that.” Kira narrowed her eyes at her. “You see, Michael’s my friend, and if he wants to talk to me then he can.”

Insane. This girl was absolutely insane.

“Are you insane?” So maybe Kira was losing her touch a bit, but honestly, she felt that just this once, she could forgive herself for losing her composure. “Your friend? He knows you killed his father. If he doesn’t know for sure then he sure as hell has a strong feeling you did. You think he’ll just walk up to you and act like nothing happened?” Kira grabbed Yumeko’s chin and pulled her closer. Was there a gasp? Probably just surprise. “Look at what you did to the person who killed your parents. Look at what you’re still planning to do,” she snarled.

Yumeko had fully lost her smile by now. She looked very serious. Kira had never seen her like that—not even when both their lives were on the line.

“Kira-san, I understand. I do. But I don’t hide, and I don’t cower.” Yumeko brought her hand to Kira’s and held her wrist. Kira began to pull her hand away but apparently that wasn’t what Yumeko was after. She kept her hold on Kira’s wrist and brought her body closer.

Their noses were almost touching.

Kira didn’t move, she barely breathed. Yumeko's face came closer, and for a second, Kira thought she would be kissed again. Instead, Yumeko lowered her forehead against Kira’s collarbone.

Kira was too surprised to react, so she simply allowed Yumeko to stay there.

“Everyone has a right to vengeance.” Yumeko was now looking at Kira, her usual smile returning—with an unsettling calmness—almost as if the last few minutes had never happened.

Kira wanted to lash out, tell her how stupid she was being, but stopped herself. She was done letting Yumeko get past her control today.

She rewarded Yumeko with her own fake smile, stood from her chair, grabbed her blazer, and walked toward the door.

“‘l’ll see you for Suki’s speech.”

She didn’t wait for an answer before shutting the door, leaving Yumeko, still sitting close to Kira’s now-vacated chair, behind.

Chapter Text

Yumeko couldn’t stop replaying the last few moments of Gabriel's life in her head but the thought that held the better part of her psyche was: My mother may be alive.

It didn’t make any sense, Yumeko saw the car explode—remembers every awful second of it blowing up, has had nightmares of that day for years—and now this.

He had to be lying, he had to. It was impossible for him to be telling the truth. Her parents were dead, gone, all she had left of them was the chip her mother gave her right before her death.

My mother may be alive.

Except now, if what Gabriel was saying was true, it may not have been right before her death. The thought should be comforting but Yumeko couldn’t stop the selfish ugly thought: If she is alive she left me behind.

Stop. Stop. Stop.

She banged her head against the headrest, it didn’t hurt. She wished it did, maybe if it hurt the thoughts would get clouded.

My mother may be alive.

If she is alive, she left me behind.

She needed something more, something to take her mind off this spiraling. Holding onto the chip wasn’t helping, breathing wasn’t helping.

My mother may be alive.

If she is alive, she left me behind.

Breathing was hurting, why was breathing hurting her?

My mother may be alive.

If she is alive, she left me behind.

Before she could spiral any further, Ryan’s voice broke through the haze her mind had fallen into—barely, but enough.

“Yumeko? You okay?” They were still in the car. Ryan was still driving them away from that hell house. She looked at him. His hands were grasping the steering wheel so tightly, she wondered for a second if he wasn’t in pain. Like she was.

Was anyone feeling as much pain as she was?

My mother may be alive.

If she is alive, she left me behind.

She was looking at him. He was throwing quick glances her way, calling her name.

She needed to focus.

Focus. Focus. Focusfocusfoc—

She settled. Not by much but enough.

“Yes, of course.” She smiled at him, tight. Too tight and too lacking in her usual danger and charm to be real.

“What happened back there?” His voice was low, unsteady. Maybe fearful, but she wasn’t sure, she was having a hard time reading him right now. She wasn’t all here yet. But she would be. “Did you do it?”

She cocked her head to the side.

He gave an exasperated sigh but continued saying what he really meant—a first for him probably. No, that was wrong. And mean. Ryan was nice, she wasn’t being fair.

“Did you kill Michael’s dad?” He didn’t ask it in a judgmental way, but Yumeko could tell he was fearful of her answer.

She paused and decided there was no point in lying.

“Yes, I did.” It was liberating. She had killed Garbriel—the man that took her parents away. He had deserved it. She wouldn’t feel sorry for it. She wouldn’t.

My mother may be alive.

The thought was sobering. Maybe he hadn’t killed her parents—just her dad. It didn’t make a difference.

She needed to think, she needed to breathe, she needed to find something to help settle her.

She looked back at Ryan.

He didn’t say a thing. Didn’t even look at her, simply kept driving the car.

Yumeko thought he probably expected that answer from her already. Probably just wanted confirmation for his own peace of mind.

She didn’t mind judgment. She didn’t. But she also didn’t want him to hate her.

My mother may be alive.

If she is alive, she left me behind.

She waited.

My mother may be alive.

If she is alive, she left me behind.

And waited. Begging the thought to go away.

My mother may be alive.

If she is alive, she left me behind.

She felt sick.

“Stop the car!” She didn’t even wait for him to follow her direction before opening the door.

Ryan was quick to stop, muttering something she couldn’t make out.

She was too busy puking her guts out to listen to him.

She felt his hands in her hair, trying to get it out of her face, and felt a small flutter of appreciation for that care.

A short-lived one, because a second later, she was back to puking.

It felt like a never ending torrent, and she found herself crying as it happened.

Ryan didn’t move. Yumeko could tell he was murmuring something to her, but she couldn’t understand a single word.

Too deep in her grief to do more than cry, and puke, and heave until there was nothing left other than emptiness.

She had almost died. She wasn’t sure Kira would have given her the antidote.

She had killed Gabriel. She wasn’t sure Kira would keep her word about cleaning up the mess.

My mother may be alive.

If she is alive, she left me behind.

There was a sound—visceral and raw, so much like a wounded animal that she wondered what poor creature was being torn to shreds to be able to produce it.

It took her throat turning raw and bleeding for her to realise it was her.

She was the wounded animal being torn to shreds, and she didn’t know how to fix it. How to fix herself.

All this time, she kept telling herself everything would be fine once she avenged her parents. Now she wasn’t so sure anymore.

How much blood and tears would it take? Would it ever end?

She pulled herself back into her seat. Felt Ryan’s hands slowly move away from her.

Yumeko gave him a tired and broken smile.

“Can you please drive me to the closest hotel?” She would call Aiko-san. Aiko-san would know what to do, and soon enough Yumeko would be back home.

“I, umm… yeah, sure,” Ryan paused. His eyebrows were pursed and he looked like he had been crying too. The left side of his lower lip was bleeding. “What are you gonna do now?”

“Go home,” was the last thing she said before falling asleep in the car; trusting Ryan to deliver her safely.

Her dreams were plagued with nightmares: twisted figures of Gabriel and Kira and her mother—burned, her flesh peeling with each step she took away from Yumeko.

****

The flight home had been easy. After talking with Aiko-san, Yumeko had finally started to feel more settled.

There were still many questions and things to do, but time at home would give her space to plan.

The drive home from the airport was slow and peaceful. Yumeko found herself texting Ryan—thanking him for his help and letting him know she was fine—and then Mary.

Apparently Mary hadn’t been in the house at the time of the murder and had only found out about it later when Riri got called back to the house.

Riri hadn’t allowed Mary to go back with her, and had refused to talk about it, so Mary hadn’t been able to give Yumeko many details about what had followed.

She tried to text Kira, but the only response she got was a simple Taken care of.

She wished she knew what that meant, but every following text was met with silence.

The car stopped in front of a familiar sight—the house she had lived in after her parents’ death.

It was a traditional japanese house, with a big yard and a pond for fish. The kind of house that screamed normality. Yumeko was fairly certain Aiko-san had chosen it for that exact purpose.

Years later and she still had no idea what her adoptive mother did for a living, only that she was good at it and that it allowed Yumeko to grow safe, secure and in need of nothing. All this without ever touching a single yen left by Yumeko’s parents.

Yumeko knew how lucky she was, but seeing the woman herself opening the door and welcoming her into her arms was always a nice reminder.

“Welcome home, my dear.” Aiko Kawamoto was a short, graceful woman that somehow managed to always look larger than life. Her arms and voice felt like home.

“Hi, Aiko-san. Happy to be back.” Yumeko’s head was too buried in Aiko-san’s neck for her words to be much more than a mumbled mess, but Aiko-san seemed to get the sentiment.

Aiko-san pulled back from the embrace, grabbed some of her bags and ushered her inside. Yumeko barely had time to take her shoes off and slip into her usual slippers.

“Get yourself settled, dear.”

“I can do that later, I have so many things to tell you, Aiko-san.” Yumeko tried to stop her but Aiko-san didn’t seem keen on listening to her.

“We will have time for that later. First you need to take a bath and relax for a bit.”

Yumeko had no choice but to do as she was told. Years of living together had taught her that when Aiko-san got like this, there was little she could do to change her mind. They were alike in their stubbornness.

“I will call you when it’s time for dinner. I’m making your favorite.” Aiko-san didn’t even wait for an answer before she walked away.

Yumeko dropped down onto her bed. The room was exactly as she had left it: her cards were still on top of her desk, the book she had given up on was still half hidden behind a photo, the clothes she had left behind still in her closet, still organized in her chaotic way. Aiko-san had cleaned, but she had made an obvious effort to keep everything the same.

When Aiko-san’s voice came through the door, announcing dinner was ready, Yumeko felt ready.

This space, just like her own, was exactly like she remembered, from the shade of the table to the taste of the food. It felt perfect.

“Thank you, Aiko-san. I hadn’t realised how much I missed home until just now.”

Aiko-san simply smiled, calm and collected like she knew Yumeko needed a moment before she started revealing everything that had happened.

“I found him, the man that killed my parents. His name was Gabriel.” Aiko-san gave no reaction to the use of the past when referring to Gabriel, but Yumeko felt the pride she exuded at the implication. “They were part of a club, the Kakegurui club. I don’t know many details, but I know there were more people involved. I have met them all, I think they were all involved.” Yumeko looked at Aiko-san and saw her thinking.

“Do you know why they did it?” Aiko-san was calm when she asked. Yumeko’s instinct was to lash out, to scream that nothing could justify what those people did, but she tried to remember Aiko-san has always been on her side. The question was just that—a question.

“Gabriel said they stole from the group.” Aiko-san nodded, like that made sense. “He also asked about a key. Apparently they think my parents left the money hiding somewhere and that I have the key to unlock it.” She pulled the poker chip out of her shirt and placed it on the table.

Aiko-san took it slowly, respectfully and held it.

“That’s troubling. If they think you have this key” she settled the chip back onto the table and tapped it twice “they may come after you. Does anyone know who you are?”

Yumeko thought of Kira and Michael.

She trusted Aiko-san—more than anyone else—but for some reason she wanted to keep Kira to herself.

“Gabriel’s son, Michael—we became friends before I knew who his father was. I told him everything about myself.” Yumeko didn’t feel guilty about that, she knew it was reckless of her, but at the time she needed a friend, someone she could trust and Michael had seemed like the perfect person. Now, however, seeing the disappointed and worried look on Aiko-san’s face, the feeling almost reshaped itself into shame. “I don’t think he knows about the money.” She added quickly.

Aiko-san took a deep breath, massaged her forehead and then gave Yumeko a searching look.

Yumeko met her gaze.

“While I’m not happy you put yourself at risk by telling this Michael person the truth about your heritage, I can imagine it wasn’t done lightly.” Aiko-san reached across the table, taking Yumeko’s hand in hers. “You were alone, in a den of lions and vipers and needed someone to trust. I can’t judge that. However, we must be careful, just in case, yes?”

Yumeko felt a deep weight leave her shoulders. She had been feeling so foolish for trusting Michael, but now, after Aiko-san’s words, she was ready to offer herself a little more grace.

“I’m honestly not sure he was even telling the truth. My parents were gamblers, not thieves—right?” Her voice broke. It sounded like the last crack of a child's lost hope.

Aiko-san gave her a sorrowful look.

“Truthfully, there are many things I don’t know about your parents, Yumeko. I do know that everything they did was with you in their mind. So if they did steal from this club, I’m sure they had very strong reasons.”

Yumeko nodded. Aiko-san was right, her parents were good people. They would never do anything to put her in danger, not without a very strong reason.

“He said the key is an encryption, not something physical, but what if it is both?” Both their eyes fall back on the poker chip. “I thought that maybe they left the encryption key in the chip somehow.”

Aiko-san was already reaching for her phone before she spoke.

“I have some contacts that may be able to help. I will ask them to come here and take a look at it.” She held Yumeko’s gaze in a stare that was both comforting and confident.

“All right, thank you.” Yumeko bowed her head.

Aiko-san took another bite of the food, reminding Yumeko to follow suit. For a bit they ate in silence. It allowed Yumeko to put her thoughts in order once again. The hardest part was still left unspoken, but it couldn't stay so for much longer. Yumeko couldn’t bear it.

“I’m assuming that now that you know more people were involved in your parents’ murder, you won't be leaving the school yet.” Aiko-san’s bowl was empty now, except for the red peppers she hated but still added to her dishes because Yumeko loved them.

Yumeko gave a sharp nod while she finished her food.

“Not until I make sure each and every one of them gets their due.”

Aiko-san raised her brow at this.

“It’s one thing to kill one person, another to kill several.”

“I have to.”

And she did. Yumeko needed to avenge her parents, it wasn’t just a desire—it was a need. She feared never being able to truly breathe again if she didn’t finish it. She owed it to herself as much as to her parents.

Aiko-san accepted it easily. After all, she had been there for all of it—she had been the one to hold Yumeko through her nightmares, the one to brush Yumeko’s tears from her face, the one that allowed her to scream and trash at the injustice of it all.

Aiko-san had helped her focus her energy, her rage and cultivate it into something worthy. Someone worthy.

“There's more,” said Yumeko.

Aiko-san just hummed, as if she expected everything by now. Probably not this though. Probably not what Yumeko was about to say.

“Gabriel also said my mother’s alive.” The way Aiko-san’s face crumbled into pure sadness would probably haunt Yumeko for quite a long time.

The previously light hold Aiko-san had on her hand turned almost painful, but Yumeko didn’t pull away, she met Aiko-san’s fervor with her own.

“Oh, my sweet.”

“I know…” Yumeko took a deep breath, “I know the explosion was bad, but do you think… do you think there's a way for her to have survived?” She grasped at her heart and looked at Aiko-san with pain-riddled eyes. “No matter how much I try, I can never remember anything after the explosion. It’s like there's a blank where the memories should be.” Yumeko had spent years trying to remember—had used every trick psychology books suggested, every trick social media suggested, every trick anyone suggested—but there was always just a blank. A painful and maddening blank.

“Oh, Yumeko” Aiko-san looked even sadder now. Yumeko didn’t think that was possible. “I wish you would have told me that sooner. There’s no way you could remember.” Aiko-san stopped talking for a long while, she kept looking over Yumeko’s shoulder like she was seeing something that Yumeko couldn't. “After the explosion, you screamed for a long while. When you finally stopped there was just nothing.For one month, you didn’t speak, you barely moved. It was like you had died with them. The doctors said it was a defense mechanism your brain found to protect you from the trauma.”

Yumeko let go of Aiko-san. She felt like she was burning, like her entire body was on fire.

How could she? All this time she blamed herself for having forgotten, but in truth there had never been anything to remember. How could she have been so weak? She should have seen, should have looked at her parents bodies. Should have done more, but instead her mind shut down to protect her?

Weak. So disgustingly weak.

She felt a hand on her cheek, and a slight gentle pressure. She allowed it to guide her.

She found Aiko-san’s gaze. It was gentle. Like she knew what Yumeko was thinking and couldn't bear to have her think it.

Yumeko didn’t want to—but it was stronger than her.

She allowed the feeling to cloak her. That was the only way she could shed it later.

“You were a child, Yumeko, a child forced to see her parents die in the most awful way. Give yourself some grace, my dear.”

Yumeko felt the tears burning her eyes, but she fought to keep them at bay, “Did you see them? Their bodies? Did you make sure?” Yumeko was starting to feel desperation rising through her blood.

Aiko-san took a moment to answer and Yumeko fell further into the feeling.

“They didn’t ask me to identify the bodies. There were several people that saw your parents get inside the car before it blew up, so the police didn’t think it necessary. I did see them taking them away. In bags.” Aiko-san looked at her, and suddenly her hand was wiping the tears falling down Yumeko’s face. She hadn’t even felt them until then. “This man had to be lying to you, I truly cannot see a way for your mother to have survived.”

She signed, and for Yumeko’s sake, said something that she clearly didn’t believe “But maybe I’m wrong. Your parents were genius and if there's anyone who could fake their death like that, it would be your mother. I will talk to some people, if she is alive we will find her.” It was a promise.

Yumeko spent the next few weeks in a fugue state. All she could think about was her mother and the money.

She barely slept, barely ate, barely did anything that wasn’t trying to find clues and answers.

And the more time passed without any, the more she felt herself fall into desperation.

It was like vines around her neck. Each day without results, the vines tightened a little more, and while she could still breathe the thorns were starting to break the skin.

How much longer could she keep going before the vines suffocated her? Before the thorns fully ripped her throat apart?

What would kill her fast, she wondered. The lack of oxygen or the lack of blood?

Aiko-san was trying to reach her. Trying to pull Yumeko away from her own mind, that sick place she fell into when her obsessions had no target or a direct way to hit it.

She was losing herself again. Maybe she never actually found herself after that hell house.

An unexpected phone call was the thing that pulled from the void.

The ID showed Mary’s name. She almost let it go to voicemail.

“Moshi moshi.”

“What? Whatever. You finally decided to pick up the phone, huh?” Mary’s voice sounded exasperated.

“You’ve been calling?” She hadn’t seen any notifications.

“No, crazy. I have been texting like a normal person. But because you couldn't be bothered to read them now, I’m being forced to call. Like an old person.”

“Oh.” Yumeko hadn’t even realized she had texts.

“Are you okay?” Now Mary actually sounded more concerned than annoyed. “I kind of assumed you were in some sort of gambling haze or whatever when you stopped answering.”

Right. They had been texting each other. Mary had been the one to text her about Gabriel. She tried to recall their last messages—something about Riri, she thought.

“Yumeko?”

“Sorry. You caught me in the middle of something but I’m here now. What’s up?”

The silence stretched, like Mary was trying to decide if she was gonna call her out or not. Then she harrumphed.

“I think Riri ghosted me.”

Yumeko gasped. Actually surprised.

“No.”

“Yeah.”

“No, I’m sure you’re reading it wrong. Maybe she’s busy and hasn’t had time to answer. Timurovs are busy.”

“Nope. Pretty sure she ghosted me.” Before Yumeko could answer, she heard a slight crash followed by a curse. “I sent her a pic. She saw and then nothing. It’s been three days.”

Yumeko winced, oh yeah that sounded bad.

“What kind of pic are we talking about?”

Silence.

Yumeko pulled the phone away making sure the call hadn’t ended.

Still on.

She braced herself. “Was it a sexy one?”

“No.” Mary’s voice was very small now. “Just a normal one of me with one of my younger cousins. Like I could understand her leaving me on read if it was a nude or some shit. I mean I would have been mad and embarrassed but, like, my own fault for moving too fast you know?” She was rambling now.

Yumeko found herself at a loss for words. That was new. But seriously, what were you supposed to say to your maybe-sort-of-best friend when she tells you that her maybe-sort-of-girlfriend is ghosting her? Wait.

They probably weren’t maybe-sort-of-girlfriends anymore.

“She could have just liked the pic, you know?” Mary sounded like she was about to cry, and Yumeko was about to start panicking. “I really thought she liked me, that we had something going on. She took me on two dates, Yumeko. Two! She even texted me all the time during break, and then—nothing! Just cause I sent a dumb pic? I don’t get it.” And now, she was crying.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Yumeko put Mary on speaker, tried making some soothing sounds followed by some comforting words—none of them were working.

She pulled up the text thread with Kira, wincing as she ignored the many, many unanswered texts she had from other people, and typed:

Your sister is an asshole. Tell her to text Mary.

The answer came much quicker than she expected. Or at all actually, Yumeko was kind of betting on getting ignored.

?

Just do it

Please

We’re at dinner. I don’t have time for this.

OMG just show your sister your phone!

She waited. Mary was still crying her poor, little, broken heart out.

Kira?

Kira

Kira

Kiraaaaaaaaaaaaaa

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Fucking stop! She saw it alright. Stop texting me now.

Is she texting Mary? You better answer quick before I spam you again

I will block your number.

She’s looking at her phone.

I don’t want anything to do with this

Thanks partner, see you soon!

Kira didn’t answer, but Yumeko felt very happy with herself.

Suddenly, Mary made a weird sound.

“She texted!” Her enthusiasm was heartwarming, her joy made Yumeko smile.

“What no way!” Yumeko was a genius “What’d she said?”

“She apologized for leaving me on read and asked if she could call me later.” Mary let out a breath. “Do you think I should leave her on read? Let her sweat it a bit?”

Yumeko hummed, giving it a moment of thought. “I mean, you could, but do you wanna?”

Yumeko waited, lying down on her bed.

“I told her yes.”

After that, they spent the rest of the call talking about unimportant things.

When Mary finally told her Riri was calling and they hung up, Yumeko felt a bit lighter.

She realized that, for the first time in weeks, she’d done something other than think about what Gabriel had told her.

It was nice.

She picked her phone back up, opened the messaging app, and created a new group with Mary and Ryan and wrote one simple message:

You guys wanna come to Kyoto? My treat!

That’s how a week later, Aiko-san’s house hosted two new teenagers for the rest of the summer.

Two teenagers who, slowly but surely, helped Yumeko start to feel more like herself.

She had thought, on the plane, that she was fine. But she hadn’t been—not really.

But she would be.

Seeing how happy Yumeko was to see them—and how much lighter she already seemed just from their presence—Aiko-san suggested she tell them everything.

Yumeko had been surprised. Aiko-san was always reminding her of how dangerous it was to let others learn the truth. And now, after Michael, she had expected Aiko-san to ask her to be careful with what she told them.

But Aiko-san seemed to understand something that Yumeko had stopped thinking about. It was hard to carry such an heavy weight alone. That was why she had trusted Michael—because she didn’t want to be alone, had needed someone to help, someone to trust.

Maybe she should have thought twice before trusting Michael, but she never regretted it, couldn’t regret. For a while he had been the only one she felt she could turn too. Despite all the pain his betrayal caused she still considered him a friend. Even if she had taken his father from him in her quest for vengeance and justice.

But trusting him wasn’t something she could keep doing—so she would be alone again.

Kira. The name came unbidden. She wouldn’t be alone—not with Kira. But Aiko-san didn’t know that.

Neither did Yumeko, if she was honest with herself. She pushed the doubt away.

In the end, she agreed with Aiko-san and ended up telling Mary and Ryan everything: about her parents, the Kakegurui club, the money and Gabriel. The only thing she kept to herself was once again Kira.

She didn’t know why she felt this need to keep Kira to herself. Just the idea of opening up about it felt like giving away something precious. Something that should belong to them, and them alone.

Ryan’s reaction was exactly what she expected—understanding, but a little worried when she told them she planned to kill the remaining members of the Kakegurui club. His worry hadn’t stopped him from offering his help with whatever she needed.

Mary’s had been one of cold practicality. She had simply said “Alright” and that was it.

When Yumeko asked about Arkadi and Riri, she had massaged her forehead and claimed a dead Arkadi was probably better for Riri’s health than a living one.

Yumeko had to agree. She felt the same when it came to Kira. Seeing someone like Kira—powerful and proud—on the floor, clutching her cheek after being so viciously slapped by her own father, had made Yumeko hate Arkadi even more.

Both of them promised to help with her plans. Unfortunately, Yumeko had finally accepted that there wasn’t much to do, at least for now. Her poker chip didn’t hold the answer to unlocking or finding the money, but perhaps it unlocked the place where the answer may lay: the old Kakegurui club.

Her mother was a different story entirely.

Aiko-san had reached out to every contact she knew but came back empty-handed each time. Everyone assumed Keiko was dead, and with no evidence to the contrary it was hard to continue any kind of search.

Hopefully, the club held the clues she needed to move forward.

So instead of wallowing, the rest of the summer was spent in a whirlwind of showing them Kyoto—the one for tourists—and the real Kyoto—the one she loved—and doing all the normal things teenagers did like shopping, going to the movies, partying; and the not so normal but no less fun things like hitting up the gambling dens.

Having them here was making breathing feel less like a sin every day.

****

The new semester was already shaping up to be fun!

Then Kira asked to talk, and it got less fun.

Yumeko rested her head against the back cushion of Kira’s seat, still sensing the lingering warmth and scent she’d left behind.

Funny how it took hours and miles away from that house for her to realize—Kira’s lips had tasted more like vengeance than killing Gabriel had.

The realization had come late at night on a random day after a romcom marathon and had shocked her to her very core. She had spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, trying to parse the feeling.

Months later, she had come to accept that she had no idea where the feeling had come from. But she did know one thing: she wanted to be near Kira. Which made sense really. Besides being the only one in a long time capable of keeping up with her, Kira had also kept the Kakegurui club from figuring out Yumeko had killed Gabriel and had promised to help her kill the rest of them.

It made sense for Yumeko to want to be near her. Of course it did.

Now though, all she could do was smoosh her face further into the chair with a sad little whimper.

Opening one eye, she saw an unexpected sight. In the far corner of the room, in the middle of the huge aquarium—which Yumeko was still wondering what the hell was doing there—was a fish. Not swimming around like the others. No, this one was staring right at her.

Yumeko blinked. The fish didn’t.

Its body was a deep blue, but what made it truly stand out were its fins—blood red and strangely resembling fabric—giving the animal an almost phantasmagorical movement. Basically it was pretty, which made its staring worse.

It was one thing to be judged by an ugly fish, another thing entirely to be judged by a pretty one.

Fucking hell, even the stupid fish thought she’d fumbled that conversation.

But was it really her fault, though? Kira obviously thought she could just say things and Yumeko would be like, Oh yes, of course darling whatever you say—but that didn’t seem fair to Yumeko. Sure, she could have lied, after all Kira’s words had a very obvious right answer and Yumeko could have given it to her.

But! Yumeko had read many books in the last month about how to build and cultivate a healthy, stable relationship—and every single one talked about trust, truth and communication. Not lies and manipulation. Or as Mary had taught her: gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss.

So Yumeko was just trying to avoid starting their partnership the wrong way. Kira really should appreciate the effort.

She gave the fish the middle finger and smooshed her face even further into the seat.

She allowed herself two more minutes of feeling sorry for herself, then stood, fixed her uniform, and walked out the door.

She checked her phone, still an hour until the assembly, and saw Mary had texted her to meet in their room once she was done. They had decided in the car to look around the club later tonight, once Ryan got to the school. With no gambling available and nothing else to do she decided to do as she was told.

Kira would be proud. Or mad. Hard to say.

The sight that greeted her when she entered the room was a sweet one. Both Mary and Riri sat shoulder to shoulder on Mary’s bed, looking at something on Mary’s phone.

Riri slinked off the bed quickly, her previously relaxed shoulders turning stone-like.

Yumeko gave Mary an apologetic look, even though she had been the one to tell her to come.

Mary simply rolled her eyes, though there was fondness behind the gesture.

Once Riri stood fully upright with her hands behind her back and looking at Yumeko, Mary interjected—still fond and amused.

“Yumeko doesn’t mind us sitting together, you know? Pretty sure this one’s seen far more scandalous things than this” Her laugh was soft—softer than Yumeko had ever heard before.

Riri didn’t speak, but she did turn her head toward Mary and narrowed her eyes a bit. The action only earned a snort from Mary.

Yumeko, never one to stay out of the fun, brought her hand to her chest and said in her most scandalized voice, “Two young ladies, unchaperoned, in a closed room? And you state it’s not scandalous?” She gasped, high and breathy. The narrowed eyes were now pointed towards her, but Yumeko ignored it in favor of Mary’s laughter “Marriage! You need to do it quickly before people find out about this!”

She moved further into the room, eyes wide, hands reaching out for Mary to hold.

She did, of course.

“Please Yumeko,” was her accent suddenly british-sounding? Oh yes it was “You mustn't say a word or I’ll be ruined!” Mary brought the back of her right hand to her forehead while the other fanned herself, the perfect picture of a nervous young lady.

Yumeko was about to try her own bad british accent—thank god poor Ryan wasn’t here or he would probably be having an aneurysm—when both she and Mary were stopped, startled by an audible exhale from Riri. One that Yumeko would bet was her attempt at keeping her laughter at bay.

“You two are ridiculous.” was said so softly that only their silence made it possible to hear. Riri didn’t sound mad, she sounded amused. “I’m leaving now.”

Yumeko and Mary shared a wondrous look and watched as Riri left the room, closing the door in a very decisive manner.

“Honestly? Fair.” Mary, still laughing, pulled Yumeko to lie beside her on the bed.

Yumeko allowed herself to be pulled, laying down and staring at the ceiling.

“So things are going well with you two. You should have told me she was here, I would’ve found something to entertain myself.”

“I texted you before she came here,” Mary said with a shrug “and yeah I think so. I mean, we just texted and stuff, but… I think I really like her.” It was something Mary would never have admitted so easily a couple of months ago, so for once, Yumeko decided not to make a joke.

“I think she really likes you too. I mean, she did just see us being super ridiculous and tried not to laugh, so I think that's a good sign.”

“True, yeah, she likes me.”

Yumeko nodded very seriously.

For a couple of minutes, they just lay there, not saying a word. Yumeko was starting to nod off when she felt Mary move around beside her, causing the bed to shift in a way that woke Yumeko back up.

“So, you excited for the assembly?”

Yumeko blinked, trying to clear the drowsiness from her eyes.

“Not really. I mean, I’m sure Suki will come up with something fun, but I’d much rather be doing something else.”

Mary looked at her like she was insane. Or not herself. Hard to say.

She even pressed her hand to Yumeko’s forehead and muttered something about her not having a fever.

Yumeko, very confused, propped herself up and on her elbows and gave Mary a questioning look.

“Oh my god!” exclaimed Mary.

“What?”

“You don’t know.”

“Don’t know what?”

“I can’t believe Miss Cold and Perfect actually forgot to tell you. Oh, this is great.” Mary had a gleeful look in her eyes. Yumeko usually liked that look, but right now it was annoying her.

“Mary!” Yumeko shoved her, which didn’t really do much since she was lying down, then grabbed one of her shoulders and started shaking her. Her efforts were met with an amused snort.

“Alright, jeez, stop that.” Mary looked at Yumeko very seriously, but Yumeko could tell she was having too much fun. “Today isn’t just a normal assembly—the top ten first-years get to challenge either Kira or Riri.”

Yumeko gasped.

For fuck’s sake.

Seriously?

That was just unfair.

“Is this like… a thing?”

Mary nodded. “Yup. Since Kira became President.”

Yumeko gave Mary a clear keep going look.

“Alright, so I wasn’t here when Kira became President, since she is a year older and all that, but I do know that when she enrolled she had to climb the ranks like everyone else, right?” Yumeko nodded even though she had no idea if Kira had done that or not. But Mary was also nodding so it made sense. “And she did—she climbed the ranks, challenged the previous President, and won. After that, she created this rule that on the first day of school, the first year's top ten would have the right to challenge her or the Vice President.”

Wow. That was very obviously a ploy to get Riri to the top fast.

“Obviously, everyone knows it probably had to do with Riri,” Their minds really were in sync today, it seemed. “But now that's how things go. That’s why the Leaderboard only opens tomorrow—adds to the drama in case one of the kids wins, you know?”

That made sense, Yumeko could tell that Kira enjoyed drama far too much not to take the opportunity. 

“Wait, how do they decide who the top ten are?”

“A tournament after enrolment.”

“Were you on the top ten?”

Mary shook her head. “Fuck no, and thank god I wasn’t, ‘cause last year Kira absolutely destroyed everyone who challenged her and knowing me I probably would’ve.”

Yumeko hummed in agreement. How she wished she’d had the chance.

“It's a shame Kira’s keeping all the fun for herself and Riri.” She pouted, genuinely sad.

Mary just rolled her eyes at Yumeko.

Suddenly their phones started buzzing, pulling both of their attention.

Mary grinned, shark like. Yumeko answered with her own smile—a little sharp and a little scary.

It’s showtime.

****

So maybe she had jumped the gun a bit, because before showtime they still had to go through the actual presentation.

At least Suki, as expected, somehow managed to make things interesting in such a short amount of time:

A video. It began with an aerial view of the campus grounds, slowly zooming in towards the school. Then it cut to shots of classrooms, the dorms, the canteen, and several other places Yumeko had never bothered to explore. All the while, Suki’s voice played over the video, explaining to the new students what they’re seeing. Suddenly, his voice cut out, the image froze—then glitched.

A murmur spread across the new students, cut short by the sudden sound of music.

Low and violent and oppressive—what was once a nice little campus tour now twisted into something out of a psychological thriller. It started with a smiling student standing in the gambling hall, then cut to that same student crying and screaming, a House Pet badge hanging from their neck, pulling them down. Another student, this one winning, and winning, and winning but with each victory the image around the student darkened and the face turned more and more distorted until it was barely recognizable.

Next came the Leaderboard, names rose and fell with the sound of cheers and sobbing in the background. The board scrolled upward until the current Top Ten was shown. The music stopped.

The image glitched again, distorting Kira and Riri’s names and pictures, while the others stayed the same.

Suki spoke, his voice quieting the crowd:

“Want your name on that board? Well, Top Ten here’s your chance: which one of you has the guts to challenge our President or Vice President?”

Every single one of them stood, their voices echoing through the now silent and expectant amphitheater, as they answered him.

This was the first time Yumeko had taken a real look at them. She was surprised to realize that none of their faces were in the files Kira gave them earlier.

How interesting, she thought.

Kira stood and approached the podium. Her steps were measured and precise, the temperature inside the amphitheater dropped. Every student held their breath.

Her voice when she spoke took on a seductive tone, inviting, like a siren beckoning a sailor to his death.

“Poker. The most conventional game played here.” How could someone sound bored and yet so thrilling, Yumeko had no idea. The look Kira gave the standing students was frosty. Her smile an ironic turn of her lips, and yet each one of them seemed to want nothing more than to be invited into her arms. “Each one of you will have the chance to challenge either myself or my sister, if you win you take our place on the board. If you lose…” The room turned deadly quiet, so quiet Yumeko could almost make out the heartbeats of every student here, like a haunting symphony. “Your credits drop to one.”

Gasps and muttering broke through the silence.

Fuck, Yumeko thought.

Losing meant becoming a pariah. No one would bother with gambling someone who only had one credit, not even a House Pet.

But if they didn’t play? It wasn’t just about throwing away the best chance they would ever get at being President. They would be showing everyone they weren't willing to take a risk. And in a school like this one—where risk was everything—they would be seen as cowards, not worthy of being taken seriously.

Play or don’t, it was suicide either way.

Yumeko gasped.

Her heartbeat quickened.

Her fingers tingled and her breath came in shallow bursts.

Her entire body felt like it was on fire.

All she wanted was to reach for Kira and challenge her to a gamble. How could she not desire that, crave that when Kira—still alluringly beautiful, still calm—stood before them as if she wasn’t offering ruin.

Kira walked toward the table now illuminated and already set for the game. She didn’t take a seat.

Riri approached Kira, standing by her side, overlooking the students. Together they painted a terrifying visage.

Suki took over once again. The microphone was steady in his hand as he spoke:

“No cowards in sight, uh? That's good.” Yumeko wasn’t sure if he was being ironic or not, but with Suki it was always hard to tell. “Now, it’s time for the grand decision! Who will you challenge?”

The previous image on the screen vanished, replaced with a picture of Kira on the right and Riri on the left.

“How the fuck did he have time to do all this?” Yumeko heard Mary mutter but she didn’t pay her any mind, she was too focused on this. Too excited for what was about to come.

“Well?”

One by one, from number ten to number one, they all picked Kira. As they did, numbers started to appear below Kira’s picture, making it clear who had issued the challenge.

Yumeko looked at Riri. She simply nodded, like she was expecting this, and stepped back. Yumeko saw no fury or indignation in her, and wondered—not for the first time—if Riri even enjoyed gambling.

Kira took her place at the table. She looked like this was beneath her, just a queen entertaining the rabble.

“Choices were made, I gotta give you that!” Suki laughed, loud and cutting. “We will start with number ten and make our way up.” He snapped his fingers, making a chop-chop motion and the poor boy—number ten—moved.

A hand shot up, and Suki looked at the girl with the kind of look that screamed What the hell do you want?

“...hmm. What if someone wins before it’s our turn?”

Suki stared. For a second, then two, then five before a bark of laughter, this one louder than the last one spilled from his lips. His entire body shook from the force of it. Around Yumeko, more members of the council laughed with him, and she found herself smiling in amusement too.

This poor girl truly had no idea who she was about to face.

The girl, it seemed, wasn't the only one unsettled by their amusement and lack of answers. Many of the others were starting to exchange worried glances with each other, sweat gathering at their brows and their faces palling with each passing second.

Yumeko wondered how many of them were finally starting to regret their choice, as the terrifying realization took root in their minds: that this wasn’t an opportunity but a culling.

It was too late to change their minds, though. The only way out was through.

It was a shame that the way through was blocked by something worse than an impenetrable concrete wall: Kira Timurov.

Kira dispatched the first five quickly.

Her movements were precise, calculated and so bored that Yumeko was unsure who to pity more—them or Kira.

She was swift in her choices, as if she had already seen every move they could ever make. Hand after hand she just kept crushing them until their eyes turned empty and unseeing.

By the time number five sat down the remaining five were panicking.

Yumeko noticed that even the students not involved in the gamble seemed frightened, like the idea of going up against Kira was being conditioned out of their minds.

The girl—the one who had previously asked about someone winning—looked terrified. Her hands were shaking so badly that she could barely hold the cards. Her eyes brimmed with so many tears that Yumeko wondered if she could even see the cards in front of her.

All this and their game hadn’t even started.

It was delicious, Yumeko’s blood was singing. She wanted to push every single one of these so-called Top Ten out of the way and gamble Kira herself.

Once the game actually started, it became clear something had shifted. Yumeko leaned forward in her chair, trying to understand what had changed.

Kira’s plays were still controlled, precise and meticulously calculated. But now she lingered—the way she picked and set her cards on the table was almost languid. Not bored per se, just dragging it out.

Drawing out the desperation.

And that’s when Yumeko finally saw it.

Her eyes—still that striking bluish green that could knock someone flat—were now fully dilated, their color almost gone, replaced by the dark void of Kira’s pupils.

Her mouth was no longer a thin line, instead there was a curve to it. Almost a smile but not quite.

Goosebumps erupted across Yumeko’s skin, the fine hairs at the base of her skull standing on end. She felt like something was lurking, and growing with each new hand, and each new opponent.

By Number Three, Kira’s eyes were fully black, and what had once been a barely-there smile had turned into something that was all teeth. So sharp and so wide, Kira’s face seemed about to split apart.

And yet, to Yumeko, this almost inhuman visage was strangely beautiful.

Yumeko’s heart pounded so loudly, she wondered if those around her could hear it. Her chest rose and fell in such deep breaths she might have been fearful of her ribs cracking weren’t she so consumed by what she was watching.

After her parents’ death, gambling became a refuge from the pain. A way to connect to them through something they had loved. Because of that, Yumeko had grown up gambling some of the worst, most cut-throat and shrewd gamblers in the world. It was through them she sharpened the basics her parents had taught her—the importance of reading your opponent, anticipating their moves and expecting their tricks.

But the one thing she had learned all by herself was to never, ever show them fear. So instead, Yumeko showed them excitement.

The thing about her excitement was—it had teeth. The sharp kind. The kind that loved tearing through skin, muscle and bone. The kind that trapped her opponents in the strange and illogical feeling that they were gambling against someone or something not entirely human. Almost like she was a girl possessed.

Over time, Yumeko had learned to curb that excitement—to let it simmer, but rarely boil. Not because she feared that part of herself, but for a more practical reason: people weren’t very keen on gambling with someone that petrified them.

And while she had been good at keeping it at bay, here at St. Dominics, the desire to be utterly consumed by a gamble had lingered at the back of her mind.

Right now, it wasn’t just lingering anymore—it was screaming to be let out. To walk up to that table and gamble Kira herself. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t interfere with someone else's chance to play with Kira. It would be selfish of her to steal such a gift from someone else.

It still didn’t stop it from being heartbreaking—the knowledge that their gamble—the one Yumeko still thought of late at night, the one she believed had been her greatest challenge in years, had in truth been a cop-out.

And all because of that stupid poison! It hadn’t just made them sick, it had dulled their instincts and slowed their thoughts, turning what should have been world-shattering into something… nice.

And the reason for Yumeko’s newfound certainty was seeing in Kira something she hadn’t before.

The hunger. The same hunger she felt when she gambled against a worthy opponent.

These ones, however, weren’t worthy—not of Yumeko and not of Kira.

But it didn’t seem to matter, because Kira wasn’t gambling them for fun, she was making a point. Showing the new students exactly what they would face if they dared to come for her.

It was almost funny. Yumeko hid that part of herself so people would keep gambling with her, while Kira revealed it to make sure they wouldn’t.

The last two were taken out tortuously slow. But that—the slow killing—wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was how Kira kept looking at them. Like they didn’t matter. Like they were dirt. Like they didn’t even exist.

She wasn't just killing them. She was consuming them. Picking them apart—blood, and bone and marrow and then finally their soul—until they became exactly how she saw them: nothing.

And just as this thing Yumeko, didn’t know what to call, took over Kira, it slipped away until her face returned to what it always looked like.

That's how Yumeko realized that while she couldn’t keep it at bay, Kira could. She held it inside a cage, only letting pieces of it come out to play when needed. And once it was done, she pushed it back inside.

Their eyes met. Yumeko’s soul thrummed. She felt something inside her reaching, longing to wrap itself around Kira, like that was the only way she would ever be whole.

She smiled. Sharp and cunning and still devastatingly beautiful.

Kira didn’t smile back. But that was alright, soon enough she would understand what Yumeko already knew.

They were the same.

Chapter Text

The walk back toward the dorm was done in silence.

Yumeko’s body was still hot—feverishly so—and her mind was still reeling from the feeling of watching Kira gamble.

She wasn’t sure what any of it meant. The need, the hunger, the desire to be close to Kira, to experience the thrill of the game with her. It was almost too much.

She had considered walking to Kira and asking her to clear the amphitheater, or better yet, to drag her into an empty room where they could enjoy a gamble together without any prying eyes.

It had taken a considerable amount of effort—and Mary dragging her away—for Yumeko not to do it.

But she wanted, by god, she wanted to.

Unfortunately, she had the feeling that Kira wouldn’t be too keen on taking her up on it, not then and maybe not ever. Last time had been a fluke, one brought by need and Yumeko’s quick thinking.

The idea of Kira never wanting to play with her again caused her chest to tighten.

Maybe with time—and the development of their relationship as allies—she could convince her. Yumeko didn't care about rankings or having an audience; she just wanted them to enjoy the purity and thrill of the game together.

She had been so caught up in her mind that she hadn’t realized the scenery had changed until she saw Ryan standing in front of her and Mary’s door.

While Mary had stayed with her the entire vacation, Ryan had been requested back home by his parents—something about making key appearances at events—for the last two weeks of vacation.

He still looked a bit awkward, but his smile and eyes were as kind as ever. The only thing different—

“Is that a scruff? Are you trying to grow a beard?”

That.

Mary was already poking his cheek where the small amount of beard was growing. He batted Mary’s hand away, looking annoyed, but she only laughed.

It made him look a bit older, more handsome.

“Hi, Ryan. You look handsome.” Yumeko’s smile was kind.

Ryan looked caught off guard by her comment, his smile turning bashful as he scratched his face. It took him a second to look at her again.

“Thanks, you umm… look good too.” Just as their eyes met, he looked at something over her shoulder.

Yumeko giggled.

“Jesus…” Mary looked at Ryan in disgust.

His eyes widened, like he had forgotten for a second she was there. “Hi, Mary. Nice to see you too.” His smile was more forced now, but still genuine.

Yumeko kept giggling. These two had the funniest friendship.

“Yeah, whatever. Let's get inside.” She pushed past him and reached for her pocket, pulling out the key to their dorm.

As members of the student council, they had been offered a better room, but both of them declined. The almost direct access to the Kakegurui club made it worth the space they lost.

Together, they pushed the wardrobe, which gave way to a small tunnel that led them to the western side of the school, where the Club was located. From there, it was a relatively short walk.

“So, Ryan, how was the rest of your summer?” Yumeko asked, now walking between Mary and Ryan and snaking her arms around both of theirs.

She felt Ryan stiffen a bit, but he didn’t pull away. Mary showed no reaction.

“It was good. Just the usual dinners and fundraisers. It was nice to spend some time with them, though.”

Yumeko hummed, but then felt a bit guilty. Her request was the reason both of them had spent their summers away from their loved ones.

She knew, of course, that she hadn’t forced them. They could have said no, or left at any time, but the guilt, that little piece of it that clung to her bones at all times, was hard to shake, and easy to shift into new shapes. She decided to keep the need to apologize in check.

“I’m glad you had fun with them.” She meant it. She would give anything for one more second with her parents.

Ryan smiled back, a little sadly, as if he knew what she was thinking.

Mary squeezed her arm back for a second. “So, any idea what we’re supposed to look for?”

Yumeko pursed her lips and gave it a little thought.

“Not really. I don’t think it will be anything obvious. My parents loved games, so maybe something in one of them? Something just a little off, I think.” She sighed, knowing she wasn't giving them much to work with. Hopefully, they would be able to tell once they were looking at it.

Whatever it was.

“Great, that will make everything super easy for sure.” The sarcasm was thick in Mary’s voice. She still kept walking with them, though.

Once they reached the double doors, Yumeko detached the poker chip from the necklace she always wore around her neck and placed it inside the mechanism to unlock the door.

Just as before, it took seconds for the doors to unlock.

From the games, to the walls, to the pictures, to the tables, the Club was exactly as they had left it. Yumeko could still see Mary’s blood on the finger guillotine.

Nothing had been disturbed or changed. That was a good sign. It meant that if her parents had left something for her to find, the chances of it being there were much bigger.

They started searching. Yumeko saw Ryan look under every table, knock his foot against the floor, and even pull machines aside.

Mary was looking behind photos, framed games, and at a certain point, she went around searching the walls for what Yumeko assumed were secret passages and the like.

Yumeko focused her attention on the games. She sifted through each one. Started by making sure they looked the way they should—that every piece was in place, and that there were no writings or symbols.

She found nothing.

After that, she decided to examine the poker chips—these looked like Yumeko’s, the main difference being the black color around the white. She wasn’t sure if anyone had kept one, but the ones she analyzed had nothing particularly remarkable about them. They all looked the same.

She pocketed one of them.

Yumeko sighed to herself. The truth was that she had no idea whether the key, or the encryption, or even the key to the encryption was something physical or not. She didn’t even know where her parents had hidden the money. So even if she could find the key, there would still be a lock missing. And then, she couldn’t even be sure that would lead her to her mother.

If she were even alive.

Arkadi and Gabriel must have spent years searching. Aiko-san had used every connection to find any clues still left in her parents' old servers, and none of them had discovered anything.

Was she being a fool for believing she could truly find anything?

Wouldn't it be easier to forget about the money and just look for her mother?

But then again, where? How?

She had spent months searching and still had no more information than when she had started. So how could Yumeko find her?

And really, why was she so desperate to?

If she were alive, why hadn’t she come for Yumeko? Not when she was a child—she could understand her mother leaving her then—but why not now that she was older?

Or better yet, if she couldn’t come, why hadn’t she at least sent word? The Club thought she had died with her parents; Gabriel had made that clear, so it couldn’t have been out of fear of Yumeko giving away the truth.

Why?

Why?

Why?

Why?

“Yumeko?”

Mary. That was Mary’s voice.

Yumeko’s breath came in short gasps, and her vision was spotty and turning black around the edges.

She forced herself to calm down. To slow her breaths.

She felt a hand, careful—like the person touching her was afraid of spooking her—slowly start to hold her own.

“Can you hear me?”

She could, but she was still finding it hard to get enough air in her lungs to breathe, much less speak. She settled for nodding her head.

“Alright, good.” Then Mary was standing in front of her. One hand was still holding onto Yumeko’s while the other was now touching her cheek, forcing her to meet Mary’s eyes. “Look at me, don’t whine.” Was she whining? She couldn’t tell. “I know that it’s hard, and that breathing is probably hurting a little right now, but I need you to copy me, alright?” And then she started breathing in a very exaggerated way.

In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.

Yumeko tried to copy her. It was hard. Breathing was painful; it felt like her lungs were on fire.

Still, she kept trying—until it finally stopped hurting. Until she could breathe without Mary's guidance.

Yumeko only realized she had been crying when she felt Mary clean her cheeks with her sleeve.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay, you don't have to apologize," said Ryan, now sitting on the floor next to Yumeko.

"I don't know why I keep doing this. Search for her. She left me." A shudder ran through her as she spoke. She felt ashamed for even thinking this way, let alone feeling it, but it was the truth. "Why do I keep doing this to myself?" These words were whispered, more to herself than to anyone else.

Ryan and Mary stayed silent, like they knew there was nothing they could say that would help. Even without words, their presence and closeness meant everything to Yumeko.

She wasn't sure for how long they sat there, until Mary stood up, pulling Yumeko to her feet with her.

"We're going back to our dorm. We can look again some other time, when we're not this tired."

Mary was being nice, pretending it was exhaustion instead of hopelessness.

"It'll feel better in the morning." She wasn't sure she believed Ryan.

Together, they went back to the dorms.

Ryan bid them goodbye, leaving Yumeko and Mary alone.

"I'll go get us dinner."

"No," Yumeko said, reaching for Mary, "I just need to sleep. But go and enjoy yourself.”

"I'll go get us dinner," she repeated. "We don't have to talk about what happened, but we're eating something."

Yumeko looked at Mary and saw nothing but care and worry. "Alright."

****

Yumeko woke the next morning still feeling the remnants of yesterday's panic, but the Leaderboard was officially open today, and she wasn't about to let a minor panic attack keep her from enjoying the day.

So while Mary still slept, Yumeko took a shower, brushed her teeth, and was about to start doing her makeup when Mary woke up with an annoyed groan.

"Morning, sunshine," Yumeko chirped.

Mary shifted her head on the pillow, peeking at her with one eye while keeping the other shut—like that might let her stay half asleep. Whatever she saw must have been good, because she closed her eyeagain and mumbled a sleepy, "Fuck you."

Yumeko nodded, already used to Mary's hatred of mornings and of anyone who didn’t share it.

"Not sure how Riri would feel about that, but sure, maybe later." Her cheekiness was rewarded with a pillow to the face.

Yumeko left the room laughing and telling Mary she would see her for lunch.

Breakfast at St. Doms was usually a light affair, as most students, like Mary, seemed to prefer skipping it in favor of a bit more sleep before classes started.

Yumeko, however, enjoyed walking the grounds while the school slowly came to life, and what better way to do it than with a bowl of miso soup. When she first enrolled, she had been pleasantly surprised to see traditional dishes from several different countries being served at every meal.

After she was done, she checked the time on her phone. One more hour until her first class. More than enough time for a game.

Yumeko walked toward the main gambling den. She assumed that whoever was awake at this time would gather there. Her assumption was confirmed as soon as she stepped into the room and saw all the people already there. Runa and her Beaver among them.

She looked at the Leaderboard and saw that Runa’s name still wasn’t in the top ten. She would have to ask Mary why Runa was allowed in Council meetings.

Runa saw her and saluted her. Yumeko answered with one of her own.

She had been playing for almost half an hour, and while none of her wins pushed her ranking up, she felt gleeful and energized. And people said engaging in one's addiction wasn’t good for one’s mental health.

Suddenly, goosebumps erupted across her skin, and the fine hairs on the back of her neck stood. She felt like she was being watched.

Yumeko looked up, and there she was—Kira—standing on the balcony that overlooked the room, looking straight at her.

Yumeko felt her heart speed up as that same pull from the previous day reared its head.

She only took her eyes off Kira when her opponent called her attention back to their game. Yumeko allowed herself a couple more seconds of staring before focusing back on her game, but not without smiling softly at Kira.

Kira didn’t smile back; she never did, not since that day in the bathroom.

Yumeko had to make a conscious effort to remain engaged in her game. When she finally won and looked back up, Kira was gone.

She sighed, pouting slightly in disappointment. She had wanted Kira to watch her, to maybe even come down and talk to her.

The bell signaling the start of class swallowed all other sounds and shook Yumeko from her dejection. She rose from her seat and headed to class.

The hours crawled by. First days were always dull—just teachers droning on about the syllabus, projects, exams, and classroom rules. She breathed in relief at the sound of the midday bell and picked her bag. Lunchtime was finally upon them, and that meant only three more classes to go before she was free to gamble as much as she wanted.

She spotted Ryan as she left her class and called out to him. He quickly said goodbye to the boy he was talking with and walked over.

“Hey, how’re you?”

“Great! I gambled this morning.”

Ryan huffed a laugh.

They walked together to the cafeteria, talking about their teachers and classes. There, they were met with the biggest line in the history of lines.

“What the hell?” Ryan's surprise made it clear to Yumeko that this wasn’t normal.

She stepped forward and peered into the remainder of the hall and saw every seat empty.

“Everyone move!” Dori’s booming voice got everyone scrambling to get out of her way.

Yumeko hurried after her, though keeping up with Dori’s power walk was hard even for Yumeko’s long legs.

“You know what’s going on?” She asked.

“Nope, and I don’t care, I just want my bolognese or someone’s gonna get stabbed.”

They cut through the line together and stopped in front of the dinner lady.

A couple of students were arguing with her, but a shove from Dori shut them all up.

“What’s going on?”

Strangely, Dori’s presence had a relaxing effect on the staff.

“Some silly kid thought it’d be funny to steal all the pans, so we’re running a bit late. I tried telling everyone the food’s coming shortly, but most students don’t seem too interested in listening to me.”

Dori nodded. “You know who stole the pans?”

The dinner lady shook her head.

Dori nodded again, then walked over to one of the nearby tables, pulled up a chair, and climbed on top of it.

“Listen up, losers. Some asshole decided it’d be cool to be an even bigger loser than usual and fuck everything up for the rest of us by stealing the pans needed to cook our food. So now, we’re all gonna wait for it to be done. Capiche?”

And just like that, what was once a crowd of starved and angry students ready to throw hands turned into a bunch of quiet and patient people.

It didn’t take long for the food to be served. But it had been enough time for Mary and a few other Council members to show up.

Mary joined them in line, clearly annoyed they weren’t skipping like the others.

“What the hell happened?”

Ryan blew a raspberry. “Someone stole some pans. Probably a dumb bet.”

“Shit, Dori will kill them when she finds them. She hates people who mess with the staff.”

Yumeko raised an eyebrow, surprised.

Mary caught her look and shrugged, like she didn’t know why either.

Trays in hand, they were heading toward their usual table when Chad’s voice stopped them in their tracks.

“Hey, you guys not joining us?”

Yumeko looked at the high table. Sure enough, everyone in the Council was already sitting there.

Kira and Riri must have arrived while Yumeko and her friends waited for their turns, though neither had a plate in front of them. Now that she thought about it, Yumeko didn't think she’d ever seen either sister eat in the cafeteria.

Then again, the mask would probably make that hard for Riri. Yumeko wondered if they ate together somewhere else.

Yumeko smiled at Chad but shook her head.

“You guys don’t have to sit with me. I get it if you want to sit with them.” Ryan sounded honest, but Yumeko didn’t care.

She sat at their table and looked expectantly at them.

Ryan just shook his head and sat.

After a second of hesitation, Mary also sat down, waving dismissively at Chad.

“Mary, seriously, you don’t have to sit here. I know how much you wanted to get back on that table.” Ryan was now looking at Mary.

Mary simply snorted and looked at him like he was the most clueless person alive—then started eating her lunch.

After a few seconds of looking at her, Ryan seemed to realize Mary wasn’t going to dignify his words with a verbal response and decided to start eating too.

Yumeko noticed that while Mary didn’t seem annoyed to be sitting with them, she kept sneaking glances at the high table—or better yet, at Riri, who had been watching Mary since they walked in.

Yumeko shook her head, amused. Ah, young love, she thought.

Yumeko refocused on Ryan, who was telling her something about a guy his mother knew getting caught with his mistress at a concert. Yumeko laughed and prepared to recount a story she heard from Aiko-san when surprised gasps caught her attention.

Yumeko looked up, searching for the cause of the sudden noise, and saw Riri standing at their table, looking at all of them.

Yumeko cocked her head to the side and waited for Mary to say something.

Mary rolled her eyes but pulled out the chair beside her and motioned for Riri to sit. Riri didn’t. Instead, she looked at Yumeko and Ryan as if asking for permission.

Yumeko smiled gently at Riri. “Would you like to have lunch with us, Riri-san?”

Then she elbowed Ryan, who finally snapped out of his stupor and nodded at Riri.

Riri sat at their table—looking slightly uncomfortable—and Yumeko felt the strange urge to call her Riri-chan and wrap her in a bunch of blankets.

“Kira didn’t mind you joining us?” Mary asked, sipping her juice. The words were casual—her tone wasn’t.

Riri blinked, like she was startled by the question.

“I can sit where I want.” Her voice was quiet—but oddly defiant.

Mary raised an eyebrow at that but didn't answer back.

Yumeko wasn’t sure what was going on, but she had a feeling it involved Kira. If that was the case, she was honestly surprised it had taken them this long to start fighting. Mary hated Kira. Riri obviously didn't. That was bound to create some issues.

Ryan shifted slightly, looking like he was trying very hard not to look at either Mary or Riri.

Yumeko had a choice. She could allow whatever this was to continue and potentially risk Riri never joining them again, and then have to deal with Mary’s anguished complaints, or she could be Yumeko.

She chose to be Yumeko.

“So, Riri-san,” Yumeko sing-songed. Riri looked at her with uncertainty, while Mary and Ryan seemed slightly alarmed, “I’m actually really glad you joined us. Mary-chan talks about you all the time, so it’s nice to finally have the chance to get to know you better.” Yumeko smiled like a cat through the pain of Mary's kick to her calf, whose eyes were wide as saucers while Riri had the faintest blush peeking out from behind her mask.

Ryan almost choked on his water.

She wasn’t done yet, oh no, she wasn’t. Riri was floundering right now, too flustered to be able to brace for Yumeko’s next attack.

“Actually, I was thinking—you should tell us some stories, Riri-san. About you and Kira-san when you were younger.” She gasped theatrically, as if the next part had just occurred to her. “What about some embarrassing childhood stories? About Kira, if you're not comfortable sharing yours." Yumeko’s smile was all innocence. Overtly so.

“No.” The answer was delivered with the kind of finality that comes with being used to ending things with a simple word. Yumeko wondered if it was a Timurov trait or something Riri had learned from Kira. Unfortunately for Riri, Yumeko wasn’t everyone else, and Riri had just given her something huge.

Yumeko’s eyes widened, and she gasped loudly enough to turn a few heads toward their table.

Mary and Ryan looked like war veterans witnessing the start of an explosion. Riri, for all her attempts to stay composed, looked like someone who had just realized she had committed the kind of fumble that created a monster. Or at the very least fed one.

Yumeko slammed her hands on the table, spreading her fingers wide, and leaned forward, almost laying down on the table. She was as close to Riri as she could be without touching her.

Riri looked like she was rethinking every decision that had led her to this moment.

Yumeko grinned—wide and maniacally—like she had just won a big prize. “So, there are embarrassing childhood stories to tell. Good to know.”

Riri seemed about to bolt, but Yumeko wasn’t about to allow that.

“Come on, Riri-san, friends tell friends things. Friends also help each other out.”

Riri stopped. She wasn’t looking at Yumeko like she was insane—more like she was dangerous.

“Why do you want to know about Kira?” Oh, so baby sister was feeling protective now.

Yumeko pouted, allowing her body to slide across the table until her chin touched it.

“Alright, fine. Kira-san and I may or may not be in a bit of a fight. It’s not even really a fight, more like a very slight disagreement." She started tracing invisible shapes on the table with one finger. “She thinks she is right, I know she’s not. So you know, maybe throwing a little, I know you had a teddy named Mister Yogurt or whatever may get her to admit I’m right.”

Her plan was honestly infallible. Not the use Kira’s childhood stories against her, one ‘cause that would probably end with her dead, but say something so wild that Riri and Mary forget they were ever fighting, one.

It was genius, and honestly? She had succeeded; everyone at the table had forgotten the last five awkward minutes.

Riri blinked at her. Once. Twice. Three times. She looked like she was trying to decide if Yumeko had been dropped on the head as a child, or if she simply had a death wish.

“You want to know embarrassing stories so you can win a fight against my sister?” Apparently, Riri had reached some kind of mental nirvana where Yumeko could not have just said all that with a straight face, so now she was giving her a chance to take it back.

“Well, it’s not a fight, but yeah, sure.”

Riri blinked at her. Again. Poor thing.

“Alright, you’re absolutely insane. Riri, you can ignore her.” Mary started massaging one of Riri’s shoulders, probably sensing an upcoming aneurysm.

Yumeko was about to launch into another tirade, this one about roping Riri into leaving weird but tastefully harmless gifts in Kira’s room or, better yet, getting Yumeko the key so she could do it herself, when she was rudely interrupted by some guy approaching their table.

They all looked up at him. Some more gratefully than others.

The boy was tall and well built, but what caught Yumeko’s attention wasn’t his physicality—but his sneer directed right at her.

“Yumeko Kawamoto, my name is Robert Xie.” He raised his voice—deep and steady—and looked directly at the table where the student council was lounging. “With the President’s blessing, I challenge you to a gamble. Whoever wins gets a seat on the Student Council.”

Yumeko’s body started to thrum. Her eyes widened, her smile sharpened, and her voice took on that sweet purring tone that meant trouble for everyone involved—herself included.

“Oh, Robert-san, I would love to gamble with you.”

He, however, wasn’t looking at her. Yumeko followed his gaze and found it trained on Kira—waiting.

Yumeko tilted her head, curious.

Kira didn’t seem particularly interested in his words; she had done nothing more than look up from her phone with a bored look in her eyes. As if the entire situation was beneath her attention, and yet it was still being forced upon her.

Still, his gaze remained locked on her.

Finally, Kira seemed to understand Yumeko’s answer wouldn’t mean anything until she gave Robert her assent. With a roll of her eyes, she nodded.

Robert bowed his head to Kira, but Yumeko saw she had already turned back towards her phone, uninterested in him again.

Strangely, her lack of care for him didn’t seem to put him off; if anything, the way his shoulders straightened even further made Yumeko think Kira’s reaction had only fired him up.

How delicious.

He looked back at Yumeko with a glare. “I will see you after classes in the main gambling den. Don’t be late.”

Yumeko watched him leave the cafeteria, the mutterings around them turning louder and new side bets showing on the screen.

“Do you even know who he is?” Mary had her head resting on the palm of her hand, looking slightly bemused.

Yumeko tapped her index finger on her chin in a thinking motion. “No?”

Mary closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths before opening them back up. “That guy’s ex-Council. You took his seat.”

“Actually, didn’t both of you take his seat?” Ryan asked.

Mary ignored him. “He kind of has an obsession with Kira.” She paused, thought for a second. “The non-sexy kind.”

“Is there a sexy kind?”

“Yes.” “Of course,” said Yumeko and Mary at the same time.

“Right.”

“He’s obsessed with Kira?” Yumeko could see it, but she decided to direct the question to the person who would know best—Riri.

Riri, who had been very quiet until now, probably hoping Yumeko would forget she was there, looked at her and shrugged her shoulders.

“He admires her; lots of people do.” Riri looked toward her sister. “He wants Kira to notice him.”

“C'mon…” Mary scoffed, though this time it was gentle. She nudged Riri's shoulder with her own and laughed a bit. “He wants to do more than just be noticed by Kira.”

Riri's eyes narrowed slightly at Mary, and the mask over her nose shifted a touch to the left.

“He’s a good gambler. Careful, detail-oriented.” Riri was looking at Yumeko again.

For some reason, Riri taking the time to give even this small amount of information warmed Yumeko’s heart.

Yumeko winked at Riri and let out a little squeal. “It’ll be fun then.”

****

Yumeko entered the main gambling den flanked by Ryan and Mary.

The room was buzzing with students eager for the match to start. Chairs had been arranged throughout the room to allow for a more comfortable viewing of the game for the students who had been lucky enough to claim them. The remaining students had to stand, but it seemed that as long as they could watch the game, they were fine with it.

Conversation flowed, new side bets appeared on the screen, and new numbers were added to the ones already there.

Above it, on a little raised platform, was the Student Council.Dori called up to someone, who nodded and shouted to another, setting off more nods and shouts. Runa was surrounded by people, chips exchanged hands at a rapid pace, and names being signed on pieces of paper. Chad was clicking his phone frantically, while some students cried that the side betting app was freezing. Kira and Riri sat together watching the whirlwind of chaos around them.

At the center of it all was a table, glowing under several lights. Already sitting on it was Robert Xie, his chips carefully stacked in columns of ten organized by color. His hands were crossed on top of the table, his posture perfect, and his face annoyed.

He looked more like a man about to go to war than someone about to play a game.

Yumeko smiled. That was the problem with the people at this school—they all played to win, never to enjoy the game.

Yumeko crossed the den with lazy steps, her hands clasped behind her back. When she reached the table, she bowed slightly to Robert, who responded in kind, and then gracefully sat.

“I hope we can have some fun together, Robert-san.” Yumeko smiled, her enthusiasm growing with each passing second.

He met her smile with a sneer.

The room still buzzed with movement—voices calling to each other and to the Council.

Kira stood, and the room stilled. “We’re aware that the side betting app is freezing for some students. To keep things fair for everyone still wanting to place a bet, write yours down on a piece of paper and hand it over to the Council whiting the next ten minutes. After that, side bets will be closed so Chad and Runa can manually update the app.”

Chad was already pulling out a laptop from his backpack. “Close the app, so Runa and I can do our thing, alright?

Kira descended the raised platform and walked toward Yumeko and Robert. “Have you agreed on a game?”

Yumeko shook her head. “But I’m fine with whatever Robert-san picks.”

Kira raised an eyebrow at him, clearly saying, Well?

“Choice Poker.” His voice sounded deferential when he spoke with Kira.

She nodded her head and turned to Yumeko. Her blue-green eyes were somehow even brighter than usual, causing Yumeko’s breath to catch for a sliver of a second.

“Do you know the rules?”

Yumeko shook her head again.

Kira’s voice rose above the sounds of the den as she started explaining the rules.

The game wasn’t hard to understand; it sounded like a fun one, even. There was, however, one detail that Yumeko found interesting. This game was based on the amount of funds one had at their disposal, meaning Yumeko would have the advantage even if it was a slight one.

She looked at Robert—really looked at him. Number eleven. All he needed was a bit over five thousand dollars to get her spot, and yet, instead of gambling with easier opponents, he came straight for her. He wanted more than his former seat back. He wanted her gone.

A game like this one was risky for him. But then again, what better way to prove yourself than by winning with the odds stacked against you?

The familiar excitement began coursing through Yumeko’s veins. Her breath hitched every few seconds, her body trembling with barely controlled restraint. She wanted to play. She wanted to have fun. But she had to wait.

She looked at Kira to distract herself. Kira had returned to her seat and was speaking quietly with Hartley Williams, another Council Member. They had their heads close together, trying to listen to each other over the renewed chaos. Yumeko noticed the faintest upward curve on the left corner of Kira’s mouth.

For Kira, that was as good as a full smile.

Yumeko felt a sudden, unexplainable burn settle in her chest and stomach and felt the need to look away. As she did, she saw that Robert was looking at Kira too. His eyes were filled with the kind of lounging that told Yumeko all she needed to know about him—he was in love.

Yumeko felt sorry for him. While she hadn't seen a lot of interactions between them, she had the sense Kira didn't care much for him.

A girl approached their table, taking the place previously occupied by Kira.

"I’ll be your dealer for this game," she smiled, showing off a sealed deck and allowing them to inspect the box.

Robert took it, Yumeko didn't. She didn't see the need to.

Once Robert returned it, the dealer pulled out a small knife from her pocket and opened the box in front of them. She then allowed them to inspect the cards.

Again, Robert took them while Yumeko didn't.

The dealer searched both their eyes, and then, having found whatever she was looking for, looked back at Kira with a small nod.

"Side bets are now closed." Her voice left no room for questioning. She nodded back at the dealer.

"Today, Robert Xie, ranked eleventh at the Leaderboard, challenged Yumeko Kawamoto, ranked tenth at the Leaderboard, to a game of Choice Poker. The terms of are simple: Whoever wins gets a seat on our Student Council." The room seemed confused, wondering why the dealer was repeating what everyone already knew.

She continued. "After careful consideration, President Kira has come to the conclusion that only Yumeko Kawamoto is facing real risk." Gasps and whispers broke out across the room.

Yumeko glanced at Kira. She seemed pleased, a slight smirk across her face.

The dealer raised her hand, asking the crowd for silence. "As such, President Kira proposes new terms for this gamble: The winner earns a seat on the Council and half of the loser's credits. The loser, also forfeits the right to participate in any official games that give entrance onto the Student Council for the remainder of the year."

If Yumeko thought the crowd was surprised before, now they were downright delirious.

"If both players agree with these new terms, the game will now start."

Yumeko was highly entertained. By doing this right before the game, when side bets were already placed, and people were already gathered made it almost impossible for her or Robert to change their minds. At least not if they wanted to retain any semblance of respect and dignity.

Yumeko felt her entire body throb and flush—Kira really knew how to force one's hand.

Yumeko smiled at Robert. "Let's have fun, Robert-san."

He ignored her. His gaze was fixed intensely on the table. Then he raised his head and gave the dealer a shallow nod.

The dealer started to shuffle and hand the cards.

The crowd shouted excitedly in response.

At first, they both played it safe—small bets, no attempts at bluff by discarding good cards, and no risky raises.

He was good—careful and methodical, just like Riri said he was.

It was a perfectly good game. It was also a boring one. He never took any risk, possibly because Yumeko had more funds and, as such, could always beat his raises, which meant the times he won were either because he had a truly extraordinary hand or because Yumeko chose not to raise his bet.

At least the money changed hands fast.

Yumeko started pouting. She didn't like this. What was the point of playing a game if not for fun? Life without risk meant nothing; that's what her parents had taught her.

So Yumeko risked. She allowed him to always place the higher bet and to take control of the game. She kept losing, hand after hand until there were just two credits separating them.

He looked at her, surprised. "What the hell are you doing?" His words were said behind a sneer, the vein in his temple visibly throbbing.

"Making it fun."

Fun. Her parents had taught her that gambling wasn't about winning or losing, it was about having fun. That's what made her so dangerous: the lack of care for victory allowed her to take risks that others would never consider. And right now she was taking a risk.

She looked at her cards, placed all but three chips on the table, and discarded a two and a three.

"You have a chance here. You can raise me and potentially win this hand and finally take the advantage," She smiled at him. The once-simmering feeling of exhilaration had started to rear its head once again, adrenaline slowly coursing through her veins. "Or you can choose to play it safe and lose this slowly."

"I bet one chip."

She won.

How boring. She thought, disappointed. He seemed to be trying very hard to turn this into an unpleasant and tiresome experience for her.

But Yumeko was stubborn and wasn't about to allow him to take her enjoyment away from her.

She bet one less chip than before and discarded two aces.

"Why did you choose this game if you can't take the risk?"

Robert looked at his cards, then very slowly pushed every one of his chips onto the center of the table.

Yumeko smiled delighted. If she didn't raise his bet, he would have the advantage and likely win this hand. She felt chills go down her spine.

Before she could even make her choice, he started speaking—not to her, though.

"I'm sorry, President. I allowed my confidence to get the better of me, and instead of spending the last few hours of the last semester ensuring my place on the Council was solidified, I took it for granted. As a result, filth has infiltrated your Council. But worry not, President, I will make it right."

Yumeko froze, blood turning to ice in her veins, as Kira smiled at him, amused, almost as if saying: Do it, prove yourself to me.

Her eyes narrowed. How dare he? Yumeko was used to trash talk, had grown up with it even, but she had never allowed it to unsettle or upset her enough for the game to become tainted by her anger.

He looked back at Yumeko, disgust etched across his face, and placed more chips than he should have had on the table. More chips than Yumeko had.

Gasps filled the room.

Yumeko's eyes widened in surprise.

"You see, Yumeko Kawamoto, until now, you’ve been under the assumption that you have the advantage, all because of the number on that board. But you forgot something: we can borrow money, and that doesn’t show up on the board."

There was nothing she could do—he won that hand.

Now Yumeko only had four chips, nowhere near enough to go against him. Even if she decided to go all in, all he needed was five chips to control the game. Which meant her only chance was to bluff her way through—or to keep getting the luckiest hands of her life.

But how many times can one bluff before getting caught? And how many times would Lady Luck smile at her before looking upon someone else?

"Afraid, are you?" he asked, but Yumeko could barely hear him over the sound of her own heartbeat.

Oh, this was good. This was the real deal.

Yumeko covered her face with her hands and lowered her head. Her shoulders shook.

This was too good. Too good.

This was what real risk was all about!

The silence in the room was sharply shattered by her giggles—loud and sharp like glass. Yumeko laughed and laughed and laughed drunk in ecstasy. She had to give it to him; he had managed to make her mad and exhilarated all at once, coalescing the two emotions into a strange frenzy she had never felt before.

When she looked back at Robert, he flinched, his face paling.

Was her smile too wide? Too biting? Was her hunger too abysmal?

Good.

She went all in.

He bet five chips.

She won.

Again, all in.

He bet six chips.

She won.

Again.

And again.

He couldn't tell the bluff from the truth. She was too random. Too wild. Too chaotic.

The more he tried to read her, the worse it got for him.

He’d been winning. Now he was shaking, sweating, and trembling.

He still had more chips than she, but she was carving away at the distance with each new hand.

She could have slowed down, could have been kinder—let him keep his confidence until the end. But he had dared to say she wasn't good enough for the Council—for Kira. And that—trying to take her partner from her—was something Yumeko couldn't forgive.

So she kept going—carving flesh, shredding his confidence with every win.

She wasn't sure how long they had been playing for. At this point, she wasn't even sure how many chips they had. She kept playing.

She needed more. More. More. Mor—

"Yumeko Kawamoto wins this gamble."

What?

She looked at him.

His hands were shaking, his eyes darting around everywhere but at her, his breath leaving him in short bursts of air. He looked petrified.

And in front of him were no more chips.

She blinked. It took her a second to snap out of it. To realize, she had won.

She glanced at Kira, who was looking directly at Yumeko, her lips parted and cheeks slightly flushed.

Yumeko canted her head. Now that she thought about it, the gambling den was quite warm.

She was still glancing at Kira when Mary and Ryan came up beside her.

"What the hell was that?" Mary looked like she wasn't sure whether she should be concerned with Yumeko or not.

"Oh?" Yumeko played innocent.

Mary narrowed her eyes, but before she could say more, Ryan was interjecting. "That was insane! Terrifying, but insane. And now you're ranked eighth."

She searched her name, and there it was: Yumeko Kawamoto, Rank 8. It should have felt like success, but it didn't, it felt hollow.

She forced a smile. "Yeah, it's great."

She noticed Kira leaving out the corner of her eye. She tried to follow, but was stopped by several people congratulating her and asking how she managed to win.

It took her at least half an hour before she was able to get away from the commotion.

She walked toward the Student Council Office in search of Kira. Yumeko knew that she shouldn't have expected Kira to come to her, but a small part of her had hoped. Hoped that Kira would care enough to approach, to say something. But she hadn't. Instead, she had walked away, not even sparing a last glance in Yumeko's direction.

So now Yumeko had to come to her.

She opened the door, expecting to find someone in the main room, but the place was empty.

Light from the TV screens and aquariums was the only thing illuminating the room.

She glided to Kira’s office door and walked in without knocking.

And there Kira was, sitting behind a big mahogany desk, pen in hand and papers carefully organized in front of her. She didn't look up.

"Did no one teach you how to knock?"

Yumeko giggled, walking inside while looking around the space. It was very Kira—bookshelves brimming with books of every genre and topic, a few paintings of snow-covered landscapes, a chessboard on top of a small table, and on the floor, rugs that Yumeko was pretty sure cost more than some houses.

She slid into one of the chairs opposite Kira and simply looked at her while she worked.

Kira had shed her blazer, and her sleeves were rolled to the elbows, exposing her forearms. Her tie was half done, allowing Yumeko to get a nice view of Kira's throat and collarbone.

She was truly a gorgeous woman.

She kept staring, silent, and wondered which one of them would break first.

Her apparently. "So, did you like my little game with Robert?" She asked with a cheeky grin, fully expecting Kira to either ignore or scoff at her.

Instead, Kira, still without looking at her, said, "You did well."

It was barely praise, yet Yumeko's eyes widened, her lips parting as a breath escaped her lips without permission. She felt her chest swell with warmth and allowed the feeling to cloak her, preening under its intensity. For some reason, Kira's words meant more to her than everyone else's.

She sat there, silently gloating, until Kira finally spoke again: "Is that all?"

"No. I wanted to talk."

"Then talk."

Yumeko reached across the table and plucked Kira's pen from her hand to stop her from writing. Kira shot her a glare.

Yumeko examined the pen. The cap and barrel were a deep midnight blue, while the center band, clip, trim ring, and nib were silver. Etched into the nib was an intricate pattern of loops that curled into a delicate KT. Yumeko didn't know much about pens, but she would bet this one was custom-made for Kira.

When she finally looked back at Kira, curiosity was growing in her eyes, bringing a smile to Yumeko’s lips.

"I want to talk about Michael." And just like that, what had once been a relatively open disposition from Kira turned into an impenetrable stone wall. Her jaw clenched, her nostrils flared, and her eyes turned colder than Yumeko had seen in a while. Colder than when they first had this disagreement.

Yumeko almost took it back, nearly told Kira she had been right and that she would do as Kira said.

Almost.

"I know you think I'm being an idiot, but I need you to try and put that aside."

Kira scoffed. "And why, exactly, should I do that?"

"Because if this partnership is going to work, we need to compromise." She reached forward in her seat and looked seriously at Kira. "There will be times where we will want different things, have different thoughts, but we need to find a way to meet in the middle."

Kira still looked mad, but at least less murderous than before. There was even a hint of something in her eyes that Yumeko couldn't identify.

"Compromise." Kira nodded. "And what kind of compromise do you propose?"

Yumeko took a deep breath. This right here could make or break them. Were her palms sweaty? She wiped her hands on her skirt.

"If Michael or I try to talk with each other, you don't interfere." Yumeko said.

Kira kept staring at her expectantly, waiting, before she realized Yumeko wasn't going to say more.

"And?" she prompted.

"That's it."

Kira scoffed. "That's not a compromise. In a compromise, both sides give something up."

"Oh, right, my bad." Yumeko said, fidgeting with the pen. Kira was nodding at her to continue. "I meant this time you would compromise, not me."

Kira froze. Blinked. Stared at Yumeko like she couldn't believe the audacity. Then she went through the five stages of grief, settling in a strange mix of complete and utter bafflement and weary acceptance that this was indeed her life.

"I see." Kira muttered, massaging her forehead.

Yumeko was nodding and waiting for an outburst that never came.

Feeling compelled to make it a bit better for Kira, she said. "Next time I would be the one to compromise, obviously."

"Obviously." Then she laughed—not a quiet or short one, but a full-bellied laugh, tears forming at the corner of her eyes, and all.

The last time Yumeko had seen Kira laugh was on the floor of a bathroom after they had both puked their guts out, and even then, Kira's laugh had been nothing like this.

"Jesus" she said after the laughter died down. "You know what, Yumeko? Sure. Let's do it your way."

"Oh. Great." Was Yumeko in the Twilight Zone? She knew she should be happy that Kira was agreeing, but she had a weird feeling in the back of her mind, she couldn't make heads or tails of.

"Can I have my pen back now?"

"Yes, of course. Here." She handed the pen back to Kira. Their fingers touched briefly, and Yumeko felt her heart speed up.

Weird, she thought.

"Is there anything else?" Kira had gone back to her papers, making it clear the question was asked more out of politeness than anything else.

There was. And now Yumeko was regretting giving back the pen, its weight had grounded her.

"There is." Maybe it was the severity in Yumeko's voice—or the way her body folded onto itself—but Kira stopped writing and looked at her. Yumeko took a deep breath, trying to keep herself from spiraling. "Before he died, Gabriel said something."

Kira tilted her head to the side, but stayed silent.

"He said my mother is alive."

Kira’s eyes widened briefly, then her brow furrowed in suspicion.

"And you're sure he wasn't lying?"

Yumeko shook her head. "No. Aiko-san— she is the one who took care of me after what happened—and I have spent the last couple of months trying to find out if he was lying or not, but we couldn't find anything." Yumeko felt tears gather at the edge of her eyes, but blinked them away.

"I know it probably means he was lying, but if there's even the smallest chance that she is alive, I need to find her, Kira. I need to."

Kira looked pensive, then she nodded to herself. "For what it's worth, Gabriel was a manipulative, petty man—I can absolutely see him saying that just to torment you. But, I’ll still see if I can find anything about your mother, alright?”

Kira was being far gentler than ever before. It was making it harder to keep the tears at bay.

"Okay… thank you," Yumeko said, and Kira gave her a small ,sad smile. "Um… I guess I'll go now, then."

Yumeko got up, still feeling slightly dazed, and was about to step out when Kira called out. "Next time you want blackmail on me, ask someone other than my sister. Yes?"

Yumeko turned back, startled, but Kira didn't seem mad, just amused, like she was trying to lighten the mood. "Sure thing, Kira-san." Yumeko bowed her head and left the room with a watery laugh.