19

Obstinacy

Niragi

"It's not going to work," Chishiya warned bluntly, as he observed the scene unfolding before him. He'd quietly followed Niragi through the dark hallways of the hospital, on the hunt for food.

Now, ignoring Chishiya, Niragi braced himself for impact, as he lifted his rifle, both hands gripping it firmly, and attempted to smash the glass of a vending machine with it's stock.

Niragi cursed under his breath when his rifle simply bounced back almost throwing him off balance. He made another attempt, which only produced the same result. "Stupid piece of shit," Niragi cursed and kicked at the vending machine in frustration. Couldn't at least one thing go right today?

"You're going to hurt yourself. Let me pick the lock," Chishiya sought to convince Niragi, casually leaning against one of the many tables in the hospital's cafeteria, his flashlight illuminating Niragi's outline.

Niragi chose to disregard Chishiya's warning and proceeded to wrestle with the machine, to no avail. Frustration and anger bubbled up inside him, rushed through his veins. Surely it couldn't be that difficult to break into a simple vending machine. But he wasn't thinking clearly, whether from exhaustion or his concussion, Niragi wasn't sure. His head throbbed with the steady rhythm of his own heartbeat, making it nearly impossible to grasp a single coherent thought. Blinded by rage he was determined to succeed, to prove he wasn't weak, wasn't a failure. "Why don't you find your own vending machine and let me work in peace," Niragi spat, now violently shaking the machine.

Chishiya sighed, pushing himself off the table. He approached Niragi calmly, his expression unwavering. "You're wasting energy you don't have. Step aside and let me handle this."

Niragi glared at Chishiya, his anger flaring. "I don't need your help. I can do this on my own."

You are not weak. You will never be weak again, Niragi automatically repeated to himself. He'd already let the control over his defences waver today, almost exposed his inadequacy before the militants this morning. The vulnerability he'd shown earlier, the raw honesty he'd let slip yet again—it scared him. And yet, the understanding mirrored within Chishiya's intelligent eyes had felt immensely comforting, had soothed the cruel voices tormenting him in his mind. That feeling forced Niragi to question his entire state of existence, all the wicked beliefs and choices he held against himself, all the blame he chose to burden himself with. It made him realise he longed for someone to confide in, to share his deepest, darkest secrets. Share his fear, his regrets, his pain and his guilt. What he truly wanted, truly desired, was an end to his agonising loneliness. He deeply yearned for a friend. One, that wouldn't judge him for the horrid choices he'd made in his life, one that understood him and was willing to share the burden of his painful past.

"Fine," Chishiya said, his tone edged with a mixture of exasperation and empathy. "Do it your way. I'll be back. Don't hurt yourself."

Niragi watched as Chishiya walked away, leaving him alone in the cafeteria. He returned his focus to the vending machine, determination and frustration warring within him. He took a deep breath and eyed the machine carefully. Maybe if he angled his rifle just right...

With a grunt, Niragi wedged his rifle into the corner of the vending machine's door and used it as leverage. The glass didn't budge. He adjusted his grip, trying again with more force. This time, the rifle slipped, and Niragi's hand crashed against the glass. "Damn it!" he hissed, shaking his throbbing hand.

Refusing to give up, Niragi knelt down and tried to reach through the small opening at the bottom of the vending machine where the snacks dropped. He extended his arm, fingers straining to touch the packets just out of reach. He could feel the edges of the chips, the tantalising promise of sustenance.

Almost there, he thought, stretching his arm as far as it would go. But in his effort to grasp the food, his arm became lodged in the narrow opening. Panic flared in his chest as he tried to pull back, only to find his arm stuck fast.

"Fuck," Niragi muttered, tugging harder. The machine held firm, refusing to release its grip on him. His breath quickened, heart pounding in his chest as he realised he was trapped.

He tried to keep calm, rational thoughts battling the rising tide of panic. "Okay, think. Think," he whispered to himself. He twisted his arm slightly, hoping to find some wiggle room, but the vending machine refused to yield.

In the silence of the empty cafeteria, Niragi's mind raced. The echo of his own struggles seemed to mock him in the darkness. He was stuck, helpless, exactly what he'd been trying so hard to avoid. He couldn't bear the thought of calling Chishiya for help, couldn't face the look of pity or amusement that might greet him.

Minutes ticked by, each one stretching into what felt like an eternity. The vending machine's unyielding grip seemed to tighten around his arm, a cruel reminder of his own limitations. Niragi's frustration boiled over, mixing with a growing sense of desperation.

Great, just great. Now I'm stuck. Of course, this would happen to me. Can't catch a break, can I? Why did I insist on doing this alone? Why couldn't I just let Chishiya handle it? His pride felt like a double-edged sword, cutting him deeper the more he struggled against his predicament, like a trapped animal.

Fear began to creep in, cold and insidious, wrapping around his heart like a cursed vine. He was reminded of the many times his school bullies had trapped him, cornered him where he couldn't escape. The memory of their jeering faces, their mocking laughter, resurfaced with painful clarity.

"Let me go!" Niragi objected out of breath, as his classmates dragged him into an empty storage room at school.

"Quick, quick, close the door!" their leader barked.

Niragi heard the door click shut and the turning of the key in it's lock. His last hope of possible escape vanished within a heartbeat, only augmenting the feeling of rising panic. His heart hammered against his chest, so hard and fast he thought it might shatter his ribs.

"Tie him up," the leader ordered with a wicked grin, as two others violently shoved Niragi into a chair.

Niragi attempted to wriggle from their grasp, desperate to escape. "Why do you keep doing this to me? Why do you hate me?" He demanded, hoping to hide that he was on the brink of tears. But the unsteadiness of his voice and the fear in his tone gave him away.

"No reason," their boss mused, looking down at Niragi, while the other four got to work. "We just can't stand the sight of you."

When his bullies presented the rolls of tape, Niragi struggled for his life. It took three of them to hold him down to tape him to the chair, and when he attempted to cry for help, his mouth was tightly taped shut.

"Stop struggling Niragi, you're only making it worse for yourself," one classmate threatened, while taping Niragi's left arm to the chair.

"I agree. His defiance should be punished," another commented, just finishing up to Niragi's right.

"I've got just the perfect idea." Niragi glared up at his bullies' leader, wide eyes filled with horror, who in return offered him a cruel grin. "Tape his eyes and ears shut. Rob him of his senses, render him completely helpless, like the weakling that he is."

Niragi shook his head in terror, fighting to scream, to break free of the suffocating terror awaiting him.

His breaths came in short, panicked bursts as his eyes were taped shut first, his heart pounding relentlessly. Next were his ears, blocking out every sound around him.

He soon found himself utterly alone, the room filled with an oppressive silence, a suffocating darkness. The lack of sensory input only amplified his anxiety, his helplessness, the humiliation and the terror of being alone und completely powerless.

Niragi felt the tape cutting into his skin, every slight movement seemingly tightening it's cruel grip on him.

He attempted to calm himself down, but only failed miserably. Niragi's fear had paralysed him, his body trembling with a mixture of anger, shame, and despair.

The hours had stretched on endlessly, each second a tormenting reminder of his utter helplessness, his weakness, his cowardice.

The isolation had felt like a tangible force, pressing down on him, threatening to crush his spirit entirely, reminding him what a worthless piece of trash he truly was.

Born to be hated, that's their reason, Niragi thought.Everyone's reason, the whole world hates me. And it won't change, unless I change.

The darkness and terror seemed to stretch on forever, like a void swallowing him whole, until a teacher finally stumbled across him the next morning.

When asked to name his bullies, Niragi had refused, too terrified of their retaliation. The memory of their threats, the promises of worse to come if he ever told, had silenced him. The fear and terror had lingered long after the incident, like a shadow that haunted him, shaping his actions and reinforcing his determination never to appear weak again.

Why is this happening again? Why can't I just be strong, just once? He gritted his teeth, hating how easily the past could reduce him to this state of paralysing fear. I'm not weak. I won't be weak. But his arm remained stuck, a cruel reminder of his limitations.

Just when he thought he couldn't bear it any longer, Chishiya's voice cut through the silence. "Need a hand?"

Niragi's head snapped up and was promptly forced to shield his eyes with his free hand in the beam of Chishiya's flashlight. Chishiya stood in the doorway, a faint smirk playing on his lips. He must have returned sooner than expected, maybe having heard the commotion from down the hall.

"Don't just stand there," Niragi growled, his pride warring with his desperate need for assistance. "Help me out."

Chishiya approached, his movements calm and deliberate. He knelt beside Niragi, examining the situation with a critical eye. "You really should have let me handle this in the first place," he remarked coolly, retrieving his lock-picking tools from his backpack.

"Just get me out," Niragi muttered, his voice tight with frustration.

"Hold the light will you?" Chishiya handed his torch over to Niragi. With practiced ease, Chishiya began working on the vending machine's mechanism. Within moments, the machine gave a soft click, and the door swung open. Niragi's arm was finally freed.

He pulled back, massaging his sore arm. "Thanks," he mumbled weakly, his pride taking a hit but recognising the necessity of Chishiya's help.

Chishiya nodded, his expression neutral. "No problem."

Niragi huffed, grabbing a few packets of chips and a bottle of water from the now-open vending machine. He handed one packet to Chishiya, who accepted it with a nod.

As they settled back into the cafeteria chairs, a strange silence fell between them. It wasn't uncomfortable, but rather a moment of shared understanding. For the first time, Niragi allowed himself to feel the glimmer of trust towards Chishiya, that had ignited after the five of hearts game. It was tentative, fragile, but he finally decided to acknowledge it.

Why does he care? Why is he even helping me? Only three day ago he hated your guts. Did the game truly change us both? Niragi's mind swirled with questions. He's not like the others, not who I thought he was. Maybe… maybe I can trust him. Just a little.

They ate in silence, and Niragi could feel the strange sense of warmth creeping into his chest again, the faint hope that maybe he wasn't as alone as he had always believed. He glanced at Chishiya, who seemed lost in his own thoughts, and felt the tiny flicker of hope within him slowly burn brighter.

Perhaps… perhaps I don't have to carry this burden alone. The thought was both terrifying and liberating. Maybe there's hope for both of us, an end to this loneliness.

After they finished their meal, the two stood up, the weight of fatigue settling in. Chishiya led the way as they scouted for a place to sleep. Most of the rooms they passed were in ruins, the walls crumbled and the beds overturned, leaving little hope of finding a decent place to rest.

Finally, they found a room that, though damaged, still had a couple of usable hospital beds. The room was small, the air stale, but it would suffice for the night. The beds were positioned side by side, a necessary compromise given the lack of options.

"Looks like we'll have to share a room," Chishiya said, his tone matter-of-fact.

Niragi nodded, too tired to argue. At this point all he yearned for was to bury his head in some pillows and sleep. "Fine by me," he muttered, placing his rifle by one of the beds.

As they settled into their respective beds, the silence of the room enveloped them. The exhaustion of the day's events weighed heavily on Niragi, his body sinking into the mattress. He turned his head to look at Chishiya, who was already lying down, his eyes closed.

For a moment, Niragi felt an unfamiliar sensation—a sense of safety. It was fragile, unfamiliar, but it was there. He closed his eyes, allowing the feeling to wash over him. The darkness that usually haunted him felt a little less daunting, the shadows a little less threatening.

"Hey, Chishiya?" Niragi whispered, as he studied Chishiya's features in the dim moonlight.

"Hmm?" Chishiya hummed, eyes remaining closed.

"Thanks," Niragi breathed. "For everything."

A faint smile tugged at Chishiya's lips. "Don't mention it," he replied softly.

As Niragi drifted off to sleep, the fragile beginnings of trust and friendship took root, a small but significant step towards healing and redemption in a world that had offered them so little.