Archive of Our Own ^beta

The floor is hard and cold under Reigen’s head. The side of his face is pressed up against the grimy concrete, but he can’t find the energy to move right away. His head is killing him.

Recollection comes to him slowly, floating in on the dust particles that enter his lungs with every breath. It hadn’t been long since the disaster on live television that exposed him, since the entire world had turned itself on Reigen Arataka. In the modern age of the internet, it was less than a day before they had found everything, his number, his high school, his fucking home address. The last thing he remembers is walking home, feeling watched, feeling followed. A hand clapped around his mouth and the sharp dig of a needle in his skin.

Reigen carefully controls his breathing, though the obnoxious amount of dust makes it difficult. The first thing he needs to do is assess the situation, find out what he’s dealing with before he lets panic overwhelm him. He painstakingly pries his eyes open, only to shut them immediately when met with the harsh light of a TV screen. Flashing, angry. Reigen braces his hands underneath himself and begins to sit up. A wave of nausea overwhelms him, but he bites it back and manages to pull himself to his knees. It takes another couple of tries to really get his eyes open, he’s surrounded on all sides by the same accusatory screens, only worsening the pounding in his skull. When his eyes finally adjust enough for him to make out the blurry shapes he’s met with an all too familiar sight. The screens that don’t feature his own visage are black, flashing with red and white kanji. “LIAR.” “FRAUD.” “FAKE.” He squeezes his eyes shut again and fights not to throw up.

This, he decides, is decidedly unhelpful. The ceiling is miraculously void of irritating LEDs so that is where he turns his attention. Careful, steady breaths. There is nothing but the sound of buzzing electronics and his own breathing to keep him company.

“Reigen Arataka.” The man nearly jumps out of his own skin when the tinny voice comes through an unseen speaker. “Your career- your life- is built on lies. Deception of the vulnerable. You convince people that their ailments are caused by spirits or curses, knowing that no such things exist, and you take their money. Today, you will prove yourself. You have been injected with a lethal poison. If you’re lucky, you will live for another hour. Your task is to traverse this warehouse, accurately guess the correct answers to my puzzles, and reach the antidote before it kills you.”

Great. Reigen sighs heavily. He knows what this is.

The Jigsaw Killer was an urban legend, originating in America before making international news with his antics bordering on terrorism. Kidnapping people, putting them through notoriously difficult tests which yielded few survivors. Of the ones who did survive, all were at least injured, and a few also lost their rockers. They claimed that Jigsaw had given them a purpose, a new outlook on life, and the ensuing popularity spawned copycat killers world-wide. This, Reigen mused, must be Japan’s very own “Jigsaw killer.” Though the original might have at least offered victims a way out, there was no guarantee that this guy would. He might get through all of this maniac’s asinine games only to discover that there was no way to win in the first place.

Still, it’s not like he has much of a choice. “So, I guess you’re supposed to be this ‘Jigsaw’ guy I’ve been hearing about?” Reigen drags himself to his feet, examining the room more fully. There’s a door, which is locked. There’s a keyhole in it, meaning there’s probably a key somewhere in the room. About a foot from where Reigen had woken up on the floor, there’s a hammer. It’s just sitting there, completely innocuous.

“Your first task,” the disembodied voice plows on, “is to find the key to escape this room. It’s hidden behind the screen of one of these TVs. Guess correctly, Arataka, or risk electrocution the more you break.”

Reigen scoffs, casually strides forward and kneels down just enough to lift the hammer off the ground. “Awfully familiar, aren’t we? Only my mom calls me Arataka.” He gets no reply as he turns the tool over in his hand. He knows he can’t take too long, not sure if the undercurrent of dizziness is really from toxin or placebo, but the insistent headache behind his eyeballs makes it hard to look at any of the screens. “Don’t you think this is all a bit contrived? All this effort just to kill one person. I bet these TVs are all going into a landfill, too. Where do you get the money for this?”

Reigen is met with more silence. A prerecorded message, maybe? But then, it didn’t play until he’d woken up. He looks around, trying his best not to let his gaze slide away from the TV screens and actually searches. Maybe there’s a hint of some kind hidden amidst the jittery images. After scrutinizing some of the screens, Reigen feels his head pound harder. He’s starting to get black spots in his vision. He squeezes his eyes shut for a minute before opening them back up again. For some reason, he zeros in on one of the screens bearing his own face. It’s a headshot, the same one from the posters in his office. Actually, this guy might have just ripped the Shotophop file Reigen printed to make it. Had he ever uploaded that anywhere?

His own face stares back at him, smug and taunting. Reigen glares, and then realizes what stood out about this particular image, aside from the psychedelic backdrop. Near the bottom of the screen there is a small shadow blemishing his otherwise-clear face(and he’d only had to mess with it a little bit to make it so!) Reigen reaches out to touch the screen, watching black spots form around where he presses his fingers harder into the glass. The shadow doesn’t move or go away.

The hammer is adjusted in his hold, and then before he can think too hard about it he’s driving the claw into the top of the little electric box, prying the front of it open. It takes a little muscle and a lot of sweat, but pretty soon he’s managed to pull the thing apart, the screen and its frame falling to the floor. Something else falls with them. Reigen bends down and curls his fingers around the key, only to hiss and drop it when he finds it hot to the touch.

He tries again a moment later, and the metal key is at a much more manageable temperature. The broken TV is starting to look a little dangerous, so as quickly as he can he skitters over to the door and stuffs it in. Thankfully, the lock turns with a click and he’s able to exit the room. He’s not sure if the key will have any more uses, but he tucks it into his pocket, just in case, as well as slipping the hammer into his belt.

As he steps into the next room, the voice echos over him again. “Congratulations on passing your first test, Arataka. You were lucky enough to get it on the first try, but will your luck persist? In front of you are three doors. None of them are locked, only one of them is safe. Opening either of the other two will trigger a set of explosives underneath the warehouse’s foundation, bringing it down and killing everyone inside. No second chances from here on out.”

The voice cuts off and Reigen examines his surroundings. He’s in a hallway, maybe, the only doors being the one behind him and the three aforementioned in front.

The disembodied voice mentioned that Reigen got the first test on his first try. That probably means he can at least see him, though the jury is still out on whether the guy can hear him or if he’s just ignoring him. Also, “everyone inside?” The word choice would imply there are others in the building. In that case, Reigen needs to be more careful. It could be more than just his life on the line.

The first problem is that he has no idea how this trap is meant to be triggered. He can probably rule out a motion sensor, given that by now it would have been triggered by a rat or a bug of some kind. So then maybe it's triggered by turning the door handle? If that's the case, Reigen could likely bypass the puzzle by breaking the door down. Then again, that's a big risk to take on a hunch and if he breaks this guy's rules who knows what he'll do.

Reigen slowly approaches the trio of doors. He decides on the middle one first, pressing his ear up to the wood and holding his breath. He doesn't hear anything on the other side, which could mean nothing. He runs his fingers alongside the edge of the door, feeling for some kind of disturbance. His hand travels up, along the top of the door, then he moves down into a squat to feel at the bottom of the door. When he doesn't find anything, he stands up and places a hand hesitantly on the handle. Nothing feels amiss, but the odds of it being the first door he chose are less than half. He doesn't trust it.

Reigen releases the door handle and moves to the door on his left. He does the same routine, only he stops when he feels wires peeking out from under the door. At a first glance they wouldn't be visible, but they're most certainly there. Keeping the fingertips of that hand under the door, he reaches up with the other and turns the doorknob just a fraction. He feels the wire under his fingers grow tighter, losing some of its slack. He instantly releases the door handle.

The collar of Reigen's shirt is steadily growing damp with sweat. When he returns to the middle door, he has trouble getting a grip on the handle. When it swings open and nothing happens, he releases his breath.

The relief doesn't last for long. Reigen's assumption that he wasn't alone in the building is immediately proven correct. Inside the next room is a woman strapped into a complicated looking device that restrains her in a chair and completely covers her mouth. The speakers in the room crackle on, but he's already heading straight for her.

“This is Shouji Aiko, also known as her online username ‘ShibaInu underscore party two-four-one-zero.’ You may not recognize it, but this woman is one of many who have claimed to be scammed by your business and started a fundraising campaign.”

Reigen finds a number combination lock on the back of the chair. It's holding Miss Shouji's arms behind her back with only her hands free. “There's a way to open this right? Stop wasting my time and tell me.”

“...Were you even listening? She lied about you and profited off your suffering-”

“So what? Go ahead and tell me the combination to this thing.”

“I was getting to it! There are four questions on the wall behind Aiko, the answer to each is a number between zero and nine that only she would know.” Reigen swings around to look at said wall. Sure enough, there are four questions graffitied onto it. “If you really are a psychic, getting the combination and freeing her should be a piece of cake. If you fail to get it, or should choose to walk away (which you can do at any point for your information,) the device Aiko is strapped into will slowly tighten around her torso, crushing her ribcage and lungs in the process.”

Reigen sinks to his knees behind the chair, carefully turned so that he can look over at the wall behind him without much difficulty. The machine looks like it was made with scrap metal and a prayer. The hammer might be able to tear through it, but would Shouji be hurt in the process? Would it be better than having her chest crushed? Reigen swallows and looks up at her, even though her head is restrained to the point she can't turn her head to him.

“Shouji. Can you open and close your hands?” She does so, flexing all ten fingers. “Allright. I'm going to ask you the questions, and you show me the number of fingers for the correct answer. If you understand, close your hands into fists and stick out your thumbs.”

Shouji closes her hands, except for the thumbs which she leaves unfurled. Reigen nods and looks over his shoulder.

“First question: what day of the week did your boyfriend propose? I'm assuming Monday is represented by a one and Sunday a seven.” Shouji appears to think, then she holds up three fingers. “Three, Wednesday. Now, how old is your pet cockatiel? Seven? How many bones have you broken? Your fists are both closed. You've never broken a bone? Okay, finally, how much… money did your fundraiser make? That doesn't make sense unless you made under ten… one? Are you sure?”

Reigen inputs the final number, only to have nothing happen. He almost panics before the voice speaks again. “Sunday is a one, for the first question. I forgot to write that.” Reigen changes the first number to a four and the machine opens, panels springing outward to free Shoji and allow her to leave the chair. Reigen stands, using the back of said chair as leverage. Well, he tries to stand. As soon as he does, he stumbles forward, vision spotting, and throws up on his shoes.

“Both of you are free to leave at any moment,” he hears distantly. “I should tell you, though, that the nearest hospital is a thirty minute drive from here. There are no cars outside.”

When Reigen finally gets his bearings together enough to look up, Shouji is long gone, the door that presumably leads outside left open in her wake. He swallows and pulls himself straight. Just to check, Reigen peers out the door. He sees an empty parking lot. The pavement continues onto a road that looks like it hasn't seen maintenance in a while. Other than that, there's not a single man made disturbance in sight. Reigen slinks back inside, but leaves the door open.

“Wrong door,” he says offhandedly, waving one hand in the air. With a confidence he doesn't feel, he marches his way into the next room. He should probably knock the rest of these trials out pretty quickly.

This one is even more run down than the rest of the building. It actually looks like some kind of maintenance room maybe, with exposed piping and a fuse box creating a dangerous combination. A lockbox sits unassuming in the corner.

The first thing Reigen does is pull out the hammer and strike some of the pipes. It creates a hellish cacophony that makes him recoil and drop the hammer.

“For your last- AUGH, WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO?”

Reigen forces himself not to cover his ears as his headache worsens. After the noise has died down in the room, he can still hear it over the speakers for a moment. His captor takes a minute to recover. Said recovery involves a lot of cursing.

“What the hell? Why? Ugh, anyway… where was I? Oh, yes. For your last challenge, you will have to find the key to this lockbox somewhere in this room. There are several holes and crevices containing any number of unpleasant things for you to search through. Once you open the box, you will find two vials of liquid. One is the antidote, the other is a placebo. The moment you remove one, a device will activate to close the lockbox and shatter the other vial.”

Reigen takes a few deep breaths, still reeling from the noise he created with his own actions. Though it's a mess, the room is only so big. It shouldn't be too hard to find a key in here. He starts with the side opposite the box, thinking that's the most likely place for it to be. Between the pipes, in little holes and cracks in the walls, behind the things messily strewn around. He sticks his hand into a space made when part of the wall fell out, only to yank it back when he feels something crawl over the back of his hand.

As so happens to be Reigen's luck, the thing is a massive cockroach and it does not let go of his hand even as he vigorously shakes it. He stumbles backward, slips over the discarded hammer and falls back onto a pile of scrap metal and tools. The noise it makes is far worse than before, and Reigen can't help but curl up on the ground with both hands over his ears. The roach scuttles away, finally, leaving Reigen to recover from the pounding inside his skull. He doesn't want to have to stick his hand in any more of those unpleasant places, especially not if something like that could happen again. He can still feel the ghost of a roach’s touch clinging to his skin.

Suddenly, a realization washes over him. He doesn't really think his idea will work, but figures it's worth a shot anyway. Shaking hands dig through his pockets and pull out the first room's key. Reigen scurries to the lockbox, fumbling the key and dropping it once. He manages to get it back and insert it into the keyhole, and in some miracle it actually opens the box. Inside, as promised, are two vials of identical blue liquid. Probably some sort of food coloring mixed in with both of them, there's no way the actual antidote is that shade naturally. They're each settled in a clear glass box, a divider between them and a sliding glass door that only opens to one side or the other. Reigen slides it back and forth a couple of times. He can't get it into a position where he can reach both vials at the same time- this one really has no room for failure. If he chooses wrong, he's dead.

He makes a decisive move. He can’t second guess himself now, so he’ll just have to go for it. He opens the glass to the left side and takes out the vial of liquid. As soon as his hand is clear of the box, it collapses on itself. He nearly drops the vial in his hand, but manages to catch it before it’s too late. He downs the fluid inside in one motion, the taste of it sticking to the back of his throat. Surely that’s a good sign. Medicine tastes bad, after all.

The room is strangely silent. No voice over the speakers or anything. Maybe there aren’t any cameras in here. Maybe the man stopped watching him at some point. Reigen goes for the door, only to find it locked or stuck. It comes open pretty easily, though, when he slams his shoulder into it. The last room is exactly how he left it, up to the door that remains ajar. He rushes over to it. Based on what he’s seen so far, the kidnapper is in the same building. He wasn’t in any of the rooms Reigen went into, and he didn’t see any doors that lead away from the predetermined path. That could only mean that there’s another door somewhere on the outside of the building. If he’s lucky, the culprit will still be here.

Reigen turns the corner to see a man creeping out of a different side door. As soon as they spot each other, the guy makes a break for it. Reigen, despite the deadline on his life, or perhaps because of it, is able to quickly catch up and tackle the perp. With a cry, “Jigsaw” falls to the ground, pinned beneath Reigen’s weight. “You’re the person who brought me here, aren’t you? Did you really think you’d just be able to run away?”

The other man, older and more frail than Reigen, squirms underneath him. “I’m… doing you a favor! People like you who take advantage of your lives– you needed to learn to appreciate it! And I did that, didn’t I?”

“What you did is kidnap and terrorize civilians! This isn’t justice, this is a crime! Who are you to tell other people how to live their lives when you spend your free time building these pointless games, huh?” The other man goes limp, perhaps made suddenly aware of the fact he’s not getting anywhere, or perhaps truly considering his own actions. Reigen starts patting him down. “Do you have a phone on you? I’m calling the police and turning you in.”

“An ambulance was called as soon as you opened that lockbox. They should be here-”

“I didn’t ask about an ambulance, did I? I’m turning you in to the police, whether I have to forcefully confiscate a phone off you or wait for someone else to arrive.”

There’s a beat of silence. “Your phone should be in that control room right there. It’s the door I just came from. There’s an antidote, too, so you can be certain.”

Reigen turns to look at the door. He looks back at the man he has pinned. “No thanks. I’m not risking you getting away. Especially since I don’t know whether you’re telling the truth about anything.”

“What? B-but, don’t you want to be sure that you’ll live? Doubling up on the antidote won’t kill you, but if you took the placebo you’ll definitely die before the ambulance gets here! Does total organ failure mean anything to you?”

“I’m confident in my decision,” Reigen lies. “We can wait right here for the ambulance.”

And so, Reigen Arataka is found in the parking lot of an old abandoned factory warehouse, sitting patiently on top of the menace to Japan, Tahara Hideki, also known as the Japanese Jigsaw killer. As soon as he moves from his position to stand, Reigen faints. Luckily, he managed to choose the correct vial, but if he had taken it a moment later he would have been dead before anybody ever arrived at the scene. Reigen is admitted immediately to the hospital, Tahara taken into police custody for questioning. The incident manages to make national news, reinvigorating the controversy around Reigen. Some people are convinced this means he was the real deal, while others say the situation was clearly staged to make him look good. Reigen stops watching the news for a while while he recovers.