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On a typical Friday, his night class is an absolute drag. On this particular Friday night, Noya feels his professor may actually be trying to kill him. Every sentence of this lecture feels twice as long as it needs to be and he wonders if the prof picked the longest words she could find in a thesaurus to stretch it out even further. The very construct of time itself seems pitted against him, extending itself in ways previously not known to man.
His backpack feels heavy too, every time he picks it up to make sure it’s still actually there. It’s not that he’s ever had his backpack stolen before, but he kind of feels like if it did ever happen to him, it’d happen right now, with the rest of the universe already conspiring against him. He restlessly lifts it up on to his desk. Then, he sets it back on the floor by his feet. The girl next to him shoots him a dirty look as he lifts it up on to his desk again, this time opening it and rifling through it to make sure it is still in there. How anyone could have managed to take it is beyond him, what with how often he’s been shifting his backpack around, but better safe than sorry, he feels.
It’s still there. Noya nods affirmation to no one in particular and zips his backpack up, once again setting it on the floor, this time between his feet. He’s well aware that next week he’ll regret not taking any notes on whatever is going on in this droning lecture, but after staying up way later than they should have to wait in line for the midnight release, he can’t find it in himself to care at this very moment. Sure, Ryuu could have bought the game himself after he finished his own classes, but really, shopping alone was boring and neither one of them wanted to take the gamble that it’d be sold out by the time that happened.
They’d promised to play it together, a highly anticipated horror game that professed to become the best in the genre.. A fat laugh had been had over the reviews and they had immediately decided they needed to play it. The trailers were riddled with gimmicky, cheap scares and they were so elated at how much bad fun they were going to have with this game.
“And one more thing, before I let you go,” The professor's words drift in between his thoughts and he jolts up. Almost time to go! The moment her sentence is finished, he’s out of his chair, slinging his backpack over his shoulder in the same fluid movement and racing out the door.
Back at their apartment, Tanaka muddles through a long wait of his own. He listlessly checks his phone every couple of minutes, bemoaning the fact that Noya was still tied up in class. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a responsible voice (Suga’s voice) tells him he could spend the time doing something productive, like his homework or cleaning their “pigsty”, but honestly, he’d need a lot longer than Noya’s night classes to get their hovel in order.
The apartment is, lightly put, a mess. Many stronger words could be put to it (‘disaster’, ‘health hazard’, ‘a complete violation of your rent agreement’, all recalled in Suga’s voice), but at any rate, it wasn’t something a few hours in one day could square away. Dishes spill from the sink in their small kitchenette, out over the counters and on to the floor, even leaking out to the living room. The coffee table is completely lost under scattered papers, stacks of textbooks (current and older), cups full of pens and crayons and other things that could be used to write, game cases with the wrong disc in them and what seems to be Noya’s toothbrush (but could have just as easily been his own). Piles of clothes (both clean and dirty) are lumped around the floor, marking the few paths they use to navigate the apartment without stepping on too many of their belongings. Their bedroom is more of the same, though with more clothes and assorted knickknacks and less school related items.
Most people would consider it unlivable, but for the pair of them, it works well enough. They can (usually) find anything when they need it and they’ve started using disposable dishware to keep the dishes issue under control. It’s totally fine by the pair of them.
Tanaka’s eyes sweep over the display on his phone again, grunting at the time as he settles back against the couch. It wasn’t unusual for Noya to show up home a little late (he was a friendly guy with a tendency to get chatty) but not when they had plans like this. Noya may be a sociable person, but somehow Tanaka had managed to snag the coveted spot of Noya's number one.
Just as he’s starting to wonder if something might be wrong, he hears feet pounding through the halls of their apartment building, drawing closer and closer until their front door slams open and Noya tumbles inside. He announces, “I’m home!” and catches his breath before explaining, “Bus ran late. Would have texted but my phone died in class.”
“‘Course it did,” Tanaka teases, leaning over the arm of the couch to push the door closed. “Y’know, it wouldn’t be a problem if you didn’t wait until the last minute to sign up for classes this semester.”
“Yeah, well, bite me, Ryuu,” Noya rolls his eyes at the ribbing he’s heard a thousand times already. He tosses his backpack at Tanaka, who catches it and starts rummaging through it. “At least I don’t have to get up ass early all week.”
Whatever reply Tanaka may have spat back is lost as he pulls the game out of Noya’s backpack. The bag is dropped on the floor between their couch and coffee table and he calls out, “Here, catch,” as he tosses the game case to Noya, who does so with ease. It’s almost sort of impressive, the way they effortlessly coordinated their movements without so much as looking at each other. Tanaka headed for the lightswitch and Noya moved to the entertainment center. Along the way, Noya scoops up a controller up off the floor and throws it wordlessly to Tanaka, who makes the catch without so much as a fumble. The game’s inserted, the TV’s turned on, the lights are flicked off and both boys settle on the couch, Tanaka crosslegged and hunched forward with Noya leaning against him, legs tucked under himself.
As it turns out, atmosphere makes all the difference. The first couple of levels were difficult, but not particularly scary, and the setting of the game was unsettling but nothing spectacular. A few early jump scares had managed to startled them, but nothing like the tension they’re feeling as one AM rolls around. The lack of traffic on the street below their apartment windows brings every creak and groan of the game to their attention and Noya now has a vicegrip on Tanaka’s arm. His own hands are white-knuckling on the controller and every step the character takes resonates through their apartment and rattles in their bones.
“Ryuu, use the light,” Noya hisses in his ear. “It’s too dark, you’re going to run into a trap again.”
Tanaka doesn’t dare raise his voice above a whisper as he spits back, “No way, if I do that, the monster will find us.” He furrows his brow as he tiptoes the character down a particularly creaky hallway, hardly noticing the way Noya’s fingers temporarily tense around his bicep each time the CGI floor makes a sound.
At the end of the hallway, he opens his mouth to gloat that he didn’t need the light after all, but it’s lost in a scream from both of them as the character rounds the corner and smacks face first into the monster Tanaka had been trying to avoid. The controller is thrown up in the air and Tanaka insists in a squeaky voice, “I can’t do this anymore. You take the controller, I’m gonna have a fucking heart attack.”
The Game Over screen glares at them as Noya’s trembling hands try to remember how to use the controller. Tanaka’s own hands snake around Noya’s middle and and drag him close, into his lap. With his chest pressed against Noya’s back, he’s sure his racing heart can be felt, but he’s not alone in that. He settles his chin on Noya’s shoulder and tenses slightly as the game is started back up.
This time, they get through the hallway without a monster sighting and move on to the next tedious puzzle. Noya pulls out the light, despite Tanaka’s protest and they manage to make it through the puzzle successfully. The atmosphere lightens a little until a rogue jump scare sets them on edge, then follows up with the monster unexpectedly in their face once again. Tanaka shrieks and Noya panics. His fingers immediately find the power button of the controller and shut the entire console down, the two of them struggling to catch their breath in the now pitch black apartment.
Tanaka wheezes with his face pressed into Noya’s shoulder and tries to say something, but it’s immediately eaten by the fabric of his sleeve. Incapable of putting his own words together, Noya shrugs his shoulder to nudge Tanaka back and he does.
“This game doesn’t have auto-save, does it?”
“No.”
“So we have to do that all again.”
“Yeah.”
All those shitty jump scares, all the frustratingly difficult puzzles, all the levels they had finally made their way through, completely lost. They sit in silence for a while, lamenting that fact until the sound of rustling and then a breaking glass in the kitchenette scares them out of it. They look at each other and then scream in unison as they think the same thing. It’s the monster. A loud thumping sounds from the floor and they scream louder, clinging to each other for dear life.
“I never thought it would end like this,” Tanaka mumbles into Noya’s hair.
Noya grabs Tanaka’s arm and whispers in an urgent tone, “Wait. If it really is the monster, I can think of one person who can scare it off.”
“Who?”
“Dude.”
“OH. I don’t know. He’s across town and isn’t it kind of late?”
“It’s not too late to die! And besides, he said we could call any time he need him.”
Tanaka opens his mouth to object again, but an ominous rustling of papers that sound much closer to their couch than the thudding had been changes his mind. Immediately, he hisses, “Yeah, call him. Now!”
About twenty minutes later, a very ruffled Suga stands at his friends’ apartment door. His sleep shirt is only half tucked into his pajama pants (a pair of dingy old high waters, but too comfortable to give up) and his jacket slides off his shoulder as he lifts a hand to his mouth to yawn, but Noya had sounded so urgent on the phone that he hadn’t bothered to change before immediately charging to his car, stopping only at his door to jam his feet into his shoes. There wasn’t time for petty things such as pants that were long enough or a shirt that didn’t have a cutesy puppy splayed across the front when friends were in trouble.
He knocks on the door and after a muffled yelp and a lot of shuffling, the door swung open, a hand grabbed the front of his shirt, dragged him into the apartment and then slammed the door behind him. He was in the dark. Literally and figuratively. “Where are you two?”
“On the couch,” comes Tanaka’s trembling whisper.
“Are you okay? You sounded weird on the phone.”
“No. We were playing a game and then we started hearing noises and we’re pretty sure there’s a monster in here.”
“A monster?” He could have laughed, but the panic is so clear in their voices that he doesn’t have the heart to point out just how childish they sound.
“Yeah. We figured if anyone could get rid of a monster, it’s you.”
“Maybe Daichi, too, but you’re more likely to show up.” The pair speak almost seamlessly and if he didn’t know their voices so well, he’d swear it was the same person saying all of this absurd nonsense.
Suga sighs, but speaks softly, “Alright, alright, I’ll show you there’s no monster. Let me get the lights and--”
“NO!” Both cry out immediately.
“It’ll be able to get us right away if it can see us.”
“Oh,” Suga says, sticking his hands out in front of himself as he tries to navigate the trash minefield that is their apartment. “I see. That explains why you’re sitting here in the dark at an hour like this.”
Moving around in their apartment is hard enough in the daytime. At night it’s just a recipe for disaster. Suga bangs his knee into the coffee table and stands still for a moment to hiss through the sharp pain of nailing his knee on the corner. As he does, something brushes past his exposed ankle and it’s his turn to be terrified. He screams and jumps back, accidentally throwing himself on top of the quivering pair who scream with him.
“Holy shit, there really is a monster!” Noya yells as Tanaka shouts, “We’re so sorry we called you here. We didn’t mean to get you killed with us.”
They cling to Suga as the three of them struggle to catch their breath, though it’s probably impossible with the way Tanaka and Noya are blubbering under him. There’s a plastic crinkling sound from the end table to their left and then a squeaking. Which, for some reason completely beyond Suga, calms the sniveling and sobbing masses behind him.
“It’s just Kiyoko!” The sigh of relief in Noya’s voice is almost tangible and the tension seeps out of Tanaka’s body as well. Suga makes up the difference by going completely rigid in their lax arms.
“Excuse me, what?” he sputters.
Tanaka breaks to the right as Noya slides to the left, towards the squeaking. The lights flick on and Noya plunges his hands in an open bag of probably stale chips. What he brings with him when he pulls back is a huge brown rodent, whisker twitching as it munches away on a chip in its tiny little hands.
“That’s a rat!” Suga exclaims, disgust and shock dripping of each small word.
“Her name is Kiyoko-chan!” Tanaka explains as Noya coos at the creature.
“You picked the worst time to show back up, Kiyoko-chan.”
Tanaka laughs and reaches over to pet the rat as well. “She’s been missing for a while. We thought maybe she moved to a different apartment, or something. She must have been the one who broke the glass in the kitchen.”
“What about the thudding?”
“Probably the grouchy old man down stairs. He used to hit his ceiling with his broom, or something.”
“Oh yeah, he stopped after we stomped on the floor for like ten minutes, right?”
“Not for good, apparently.”
“So, let me get this straight,” Suga interrupts their volley of conversation. His hands rest on either side of his face in hopes of stopping the way his mind is swimming as he tries to verbalize the situation, “You called me over in the middle of the night because of a rat. A rat you’ve named after Shizimu. That you regularly have in your apartment.”
“Huh. Yeah, I guess so. Sounds kind of silly when you put it like that.” Despite the tear trails still on his face, Noya’s words are cavalier.
“Please do me and yourselves a favor and spend the rest of your weekend cleaning your apartment.” Suga scolds, though the sharp edge of his words are lost in a tired sigh. “And don’t name a rat after your high school manager. It’s creepy and Shizimu deserves better.”
