Prologue: White Noise
Matsuda forces himself to slow as he takes heavy sluggish steps down the dark hallway. Thankfully, the hallway lacks any sort of light. It hides the slight quiver of his bottom lip, his furrowed brow, and eyes focusing on the path laid before him.
He eventually stops in front of a plain white door, listening to the noise of the next room: a voice laughs deeply at one of the girls' joke, a bottle hits the ground but doesn't shatter but the sound is swallowed by several conversations going on at once, a girl apologizes for the mess, a few high pitched giggles.
Matsuda takes a deep breath in and holds the tension there within his conflicted chest. He lets out the air tainted with his anxieties right as he kicks the door open with his right foot. The chatter of the mafia men and the girls halts, all of their eyes watching him, not unlike how people watch car accidents from the safety of sidewalks or shop windows. From the corner of his eye, Matsuda notices a few of the men holding the girls who jumped into their arms rather tightly.
Matsuda forces a giggle of his own and places the cheery mask of the Taro Matsui over his face, allowing himself to slip further and further away from the current display.
"Man, I'm so drunk." He brings his voice high and slurred. He isn't sure if it's enough to convince the Yotsuba members but he continues regardless. "I feel so good!"
Matsuda takes slower, clumsy steps as if he's walking through knee deep water. His hands wave about in front of him. "Hey everyone! Are you all having fun? You should be," he pronounces loudly to the very still room.
They continue to watch him as he makes his way across the room to the balcony. Some of the girls tilt their heads, looking over to Misa-Misa and then back to Matsuda as he flings open the sliding glass door. He barely contains the shivers crawling up his back from the breeze he let in.
"Now everyone, this is what you've been waiting for! It's the Matsui Tarou Show time!" He gives an award winning smile and laughs some more as he extends both his arms as far as they can go. Curious gasps are pulled from the guests but the noise from the city outside competes for his attention more; cars honking, engines driving past, and a siren of sorts.
"Hey, what the hell do you think you're doing?" One of the men calls out as Matsui starts to climb on top of the concrete railing at the very edge of the balcony.
"Yay! Go for it, Matsui-san!" cheers Misa-Misa as she runs into the room. A few of the girls clap along for Matsuda and his display.
"Alright, here we go," Matsuda says. He hums part of a random song to himself as he finally stands atop the railing and takes a couple shaky steps forward to test out the area.
"Hey! That's dangerous! You're drunk!" The man known as Shimura Suguru says as he walks onto the balcony.
"It's fine, I do this all the time…" Matsui replies while he places his hands down on the railing.
He realizes just how much he's sweating when he holds onto the cool surface. He grips either side of the rail tightly between his palms. Matsuda follows this by kicking his legs into the air and holds the position, performing a nearly flawless handstand. More of the guests stand and most of the girls cry out. One girl buries her face into her hands while the man by her side pats her back.
"Cut it out!"
"Get in here, man."
"Are you crazy, you idiot?"
Matsuda replies in a whisper through gritting teeth, "I'm… fine…" He holds the handstand as the tremors traveling up his arms in waves and invisible pins and needles make work of his fingers.
Matsuda stares at the railing and visible ground below as he holds the pose. The mission and the guests are a second thought to his heart trying to leap out of his chest, the adrenaline coursing through his veins, and the buckets of sweat gathering on his gooseflesh skin. His breath is controlled, more or less, and he's rather impressed with himself to be able to keep some part of his composure during this endeavor.
The potential risk of death looms over his head. He really wishes L hadn't refused to give him the statistics of their plan's success. Or maybe he should be glad. Falling off the railing, only about a story's length, sounded a lot easier a few moments ago. Especially in front of everybody, when he had something to prove. He still does, Matsuda reminds himself. Speaking of falling, it's about time he plays his part.
Unexpectedly, his right arm gives in first. The sweat on his palms has finally become too much and the rest of his body goes over the side. He plummets to the ground with a genuine yell. The screams from everyone above mix into a bone-chilling melody along with the wind whirling past his ears and hair.
The momentum has Matsuda spinning in the air so much so he turns just in time to see himself miss the hidden mattress. The wide-eyed look from Soichiro permanently scorches itself into Matsuda's memory. The older man's lips move as he says something but Matsuda is falling too fast to hear.
He meets the ground before his body can register it. He's numb, at first. Then the pain sucks him in and suffocates him, like a title wave. Matsuda can barely hold onto the world around him; all Matsuda knows is that he is hurt and he wasn't supposed to get hurt. He tries to take in a breath of air to replenish what was knocked out of him. It's a mistake since heaving his chests alights his body with so much pain, he wonders if he's been set on fire. The invisible flames lick and sting places Matsuda didn't think you could feel pain: muscles, bones, organs, and veins.
Matsuda is not sure if he's crying or not but he does hear Wedy as she runs over to him. Her gloved hand checks his vitals and calls out for help in earnest, an undeniable stain in her voice.
"Hey, stay with me. I need you to stay awake. Please! Someone, help!"
Matsuda rattles and rasps while he struggles to obey Wedy. But he's so tired and so hurt. Wedy rips off her sunglasses and she holds his head in her hands. Her lips move but the dark edges of his vision obscures everything, even the stars and lights. He could have closed his eyes but he can't really tell. A breath leaves his lips along with all the strength in his body and mind.
