It was later that night when I woke to footsteps down the hallway. They were long gaits, plodding quietly toward the stairs. Jye. Likely, they were going to try again to spend their credits to buy attributes and their assigned abilities once under the influence. They hadn't succeeded last night. In fact, they’d probably waited until they thought everyone was asleep so they wouldn’t stress anyone out.

  Unfurling myself from Axel’s arms, I let him know what I was doing so he wouldn’t freak out again. His clinginess had loosened minutely over the past day. Very minutely. My threat to kick him from my bed had really done a number on him. He didn’t need to know I had definitely been lying. I liked being able to sleep, actually.

  Only part awake, Axel nodded drowsily, his eyelids fluttering, as he resettled into the open expanse of my empty side of the bed. Before I left, I hesitated, hovering over his sleeping form, lingering on how the glow of the moon draped over him, and wondering, as my chest warmed, just how stupid I was to have ever mistaken this feeling for friendship alone.

  Reflecting on it, it was fully distinct from platonic, but it was also entirely different to how I’d felt about him as a kid. That had been an intense crush, blind to his flaws, idolising everything he’d done. This wasn’t the same. I wasn’t putting him on a pedestal like I’d once had before I’d lost Chrissie.

  In fact, half of my feelings toward Axel were very simple. Hell, I’d even expressed them to the man himself.

  I wanted to be with him.

  The other half was something I needed time to unpack.

  A sudden urge, tied to this recognition, struck me as I began to leave.

  Should I?

  Then, convincing myself couples do this all the time, and that if he were awake, he’d probably appreciate it, and if he were asleep, he wouldn’t care, and realising it was something I wanted to do, I laid a chaste kiss on his cheek and then fled the room, my heart racing.

  His brow had crinkled at the touch, and the reaction made me smile, though I did indeed feel mortified by what I’d done, a heat pressing out against my skin.

  Yes, I was still working my way through this understanding. Of knowing I liked Axel like that. The worst part was that I possibly always had. I’d just killed it. Frozen it. Pushed it away to the furthest part of my mind. Because this awareness hadn’t changed how I felt about him. It’d just adjusted the angle through which I saw all my thoughts about him now, some of them embarrassingly transparent.

  Heading down the hall, I steeled myself, scrapping that topic to focus on what came next.

  It was time to talk to Jye.

  I would not be taking no for an answer.

  As I walked down the stairs into the basement, taking in the vegetable sprouts growing from the hydroponics system, I felt the atmosphere shift. The air was heavier, more moist, but there was a distinctive lack of the telltale scent of pot. Hadn’t the redhead lit up yet? I’d dallied a little with my… farewell to Axel. I had assumed they would’ve already started their sesh by now.

  From under their deep set eyes, Jye watched me approach, sitting on the grey sofa they’d commandeered from someone else’s house and installed along the wall at the front of the basement. I think they’d specifically chosen it because of how large it was. It was much longer than your traditional couch set, and when Jye sat on it, they almost looked average size in comparison. They’d probably had to have stored it in their inventory as modular parts.

  “You really don’t know when to give up, do you, dude?” they asked, their brows furrowing in amused frustration.

  “What can I say? I’m nothing if not consistent.” Actually, I kind of hoped that wasn’t true. Could you imagine if I’d gotten that as a system trait? Depressing. What kind of perk would it have even granted me?

  “Well, if you can’t beat them…” They gestured to the lounge, and I sat. Given the size of it, I was practically on the other side of the room. It was strangely apt for how emotionally distant I felt from them recently. Ever since the whole Wren-Makris debacle, I’d felt something off in our friendship.

  A silence hovered in the expanse between us as I settled in, the sofa plush and far too comfortable for the conversation we should be having. Its previous owners had cared for it well.

  I didn’t know what topic I wanted to breach first. There was Bia’s title, the giant’s sadness, and also their protectiveness regarding Wren and her lost memories. Maybe they were all one and the same, though.

  Jye said nothing, and they made a move to the desk behind them, pulling out a prerolled joint from a baggie and a Zippo lighter in its top drawer. Then, quietly, they lit their joint, the actions practiced and fluid, the cherry smoldering smoke into the air. Its smell struck me first, as it always did, a combination of the method and material; fire and that unique musk.

  Taking a hit, Jye breathed in through the joint, removed it from their lips, held in the stylish manner of a V of their fingers, and then inhaled deeper still, before exhaling after a pause. The cloud of smoke that whirled from their mouth filled the air. I had no idea if this was the correct practice, but they looked sure of it. Still, they said nothing.

  Out of all things, I wasn’t expecting the silent treatment from Jye.

  Well, if they weren’t planning on breaking the ice, I could—

  “I tried to neck myself that night.”

  My mouth froze halfway open, the words stuck in my throat.

  That time I’d walked in on them crying…

  They’d tried what?!

  A grin split out on Jye's face, green eyes dancing. “Got you good, didn’t I?”

  The relief that it was a poor joke had my heart beating again, but as their gaze slid from mine, I glimpsed the truth underneath their expression.

  They offered their joint with an outstretched hand. Their words weighing on me, I waved them off; I could barely tolerate my thoughts when I wasn’t high. Not to mention, this conversation was not one I should be having under any influence other than my own. Not now that Jye had shared this.

  “You’re not joking, are you?”

  Their smile tightened into a grimace.

  “Nah. I’m not. The good news is I couldn’t go through with it. Obviously,” they said, gesturing vaguely to themself.

  “What the fuck.” It wasn’t a question. Hell, it wasn’t even a statement.

  “I can’t level up, man. I thought I’d set you guys up nice and pretty at Lusi’s and off myself, so you wouldn’t have to carry me.” They said this as though it hadn’t even been a second thought. “Besides, I figured you’re keen on winning, so there was a high chance I’d come back.” Their head tilted. “Oh, no pressure, though, dude.”

  “Jye, that’s…”

  I had no words.

  “Well, to be fair, it wasn’t my first choice, man. I tried to leave the party.” They smiled again, and it was salty. “My glitch doesn’t let me. Gotta laugh at that, huh?”

  It was a lot of information at once. My feelings toward their glitch were complex. Part of me was thankful for their problems, just this once. It’d prevented them from leaving us. Alone, they would’ve never stood a chance. They would’ve left us and met their demise by themself. However, what it had pushed them to do…

  I summoned the party window, unable to stop myself, and thought about kicking them from the team, just to check if the glitch carried through to me too. The prompt appeared as clear as day.

  Kick party member Jye? Accept | Reject

  My thoughts wobbled wildly. While Jye couldn’t leave the party, I could force them out. The weight of knowing this beaded sweat along my back. A responsibility I didn't realise I had was now sitting precariously on my shoulders, the balancing scale of it pitting Jye's life up against everyone else's.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, wondering how I’d missed how severely Jye was impacted by their system errors.

  The audio problems I knew affected them, but it’d been nearly two weeks since we discovered the average culling. And this entire time… Jye’d been crushed by the guilt of potentially leading us to our death. I should’ve had this conversation earlier, even if they kept on putting me off. Reflecting on it, I’d let Jye push it to the backburner because of Makris, and Bia’s Dungeon, but that was no excuse. Life from here on out would only get more complicated.

  Jye snorted. “Bro, you’re you. You would’ve given me some sort of speech about saving me.”

  I immediately threw the speech I’d been preparing earlier about saving them into the very depths of my mind, a heat flushing over the back of my neck. Fuck, was I really that predictable? Maybe Axel had been right all along.

  Instead, I said, “And, so, what, you think it’d be better if you were dead, is that it?” My throat felt tight, thoughts of my parents fresh in their grave flashing through my head, of Axel’s vacant expression both times I’d nearly lost him, of all those polaroids Wren had given me.

  The giant gave me a look.

  “Come on, be for serious, man. You’re saying it wouldn’t be a load off everyone’s backs if I wasn’t in the picture?” they asked, incredulous, and they took another toke.

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  When they blew out the smoke, I waved it from my face, irritation taking over shock. “Of course not!”

  “Right. You would say that.” This was followed by a scoff.

  “Jye, you’re not a burden.”

  Their lips pressed flat in annoyance, their free hand reaching up to toy with locks of their hair. It was something they did when they were anxious. At least this I knew now. After another deep inhale of their joint, Jye’s face loosened again, eyes slightly glazing over in memory.

  They said, “You never asked why I joined you and Axel like it was nothing.”

  I frowned, taken off guard. This conversation had veered off completely in another direction. My mind racing, trying to think back, I was only fed further confusion. Hadn’t they said they hated capitalism and society as it was? Wasn’t that reason enough? In comparison, the only reason I’d gone along with Axel in the first place was because he’d said I wasn’t crazy.

  Into my silence, Jye confessed, “Truth is, dude, there was no one waiting for me back home. No one to call the cops if I went missing. I wasn’t giving up anything to go with you.” They smiled, and it was the most forced expression I'd ever seen on their face. “I’ve never been someone people choose, if you're getting my drift.” The redhead paused, eyes downcast, resting only partly on themself before focusing on the floor. “So when you two came to get me…”

  Immediately, guilt swamped me. I’d never once considered Jye’s past beyond how their parents had treated them as a child. In fact, I’d just assumed after they’d “found themself,” their life had started improving, and they’d developed past it. But I’d been wrong. How was I always wrong about everyone?

  As I let their words sink in, everything about them suddenly clicked into place, from their casual nihilism to their encyclopaedic knowledge of anime, camping, and mythology. It was their safety net.

  With a shrug that bunched their muscles, Jye simply said, “It's kinda lame, but you guys are it for me.” They took another toke, smoke curling out from between their lips. “And I couldn't let the team take the fall for me, especially Wren. Shit friend I’d be, if I doomed you all. Couldn’t care less about humanity really, though.”

  I failed to respond.

  How could we have meant so much to Jye while I’d never realised it?

  I'd never examined the redhead's motivations before, what drove them, but I knew everyone else's. For Tam, it was her wife; for Gigi, xe had to assist others to level up; for Wren, it was finding herself after losing her memories; for Axel, well… I guess it was me; and for me, it had been figuring out I wanted to protect those I cared about.

  But what moved Jye, what inspired them…

  It had been us.

  Their thumbs-up long back at the Kmart when I’d introduced them as my friend suddenly held so much more weight, and their hurt look and concern when I’d nearly died in Nabu’s Dungeon too. Their willingness to follow my orders no matter how unhinged. The trust they put in me. Their bright grins during morning activities together, their relationship with Gigi and Wren… We’d become Jye’s family.

  And I might’ve had Axel, but for Jye… No one else had ever chosen them.

  They didn’t think anyone ever would.

  So, their solution had been “obvious.” Take one for the team.

  “You’d be a shit friend if you killed yourself too,” I replied, finally finding my voice.

  They chuckled which turned into a cough, likely from the smoke tickling their throat. Thumping at their chest with a closed fist, they said, “Fair call. But there’s no point in talking about it, man. I didn’t have it in me to go through with it then.”

  “And thank fuck for that,” I muttered, still reeling from the redhead’s admissions, my mind latching onto the last word they'd said: “then.” Did that mean… Trying to find what I wanted to voice, anything to convince them, I continued, “Look, Bia wasn’t overhyping you back in her Domain. You are essential to our party. Each of our main kills has been largely due to you and your abilities.”

  In silence, ash crumbled off the end of their joint onto their lap, which they casually flicked away.

  “I’m just not worth the risk, dude. It is what it is.” Their tone was nonchalant. “And you’d all be A-OK without me too, I swear.”

  It was as though Jye were asking for permission. For validation.

  I would never give it.

  The mere fact that this was their solution was far too telling. The version they’d rediscovered after leaving home, after delving into religion and identity, had still been damaged and hurt. And years of no one understanding them, acknowledging them, wanting them, from childhood until now, had made them the person they were today.

  Someone who thought their only value was in how little they impacted others.

  “You are worth it. We can make it past the culling. I know we can. We’ve just got to grind.” I hoped it sounded persuasive. It was what I truly believed.

  Jye didn't say anything in response.

  “Please don’t try again,” I pleaded, my voice pinched.

  “Soz, I can’t make that promise.”

  My gut clenched with anxiety, mind spinning.

  How did you save a life?

  Hope!

  You had to give someone hope. And I knew just what it had to be, twisted as it was.

  It was hot coals in my throat, but planting the seed was better than letting Jye try to take matters into their own hands. However, they had to hear the idea and think it was their own choice. It's the only way this would work. Because I knew just as water was wet that Jye would attempt again. Somehow, we meant that much to them.

  Taking a deep breath, I said, “I can kick you.”

  The giant stared long and hard at me.

  “What?”

  “I can kick you from our party. I’m the party leader, after all.”

  Jye sat bolt up on the sofa, eyes wide, almost manic. They clawed their way over to me, their free hand coming down to clutch frantically at my leg as they leaned in close. “Do it, then, bro! Kick me, and save yourselves.”

  The desperation in their voice hurt.

  I shook my head, resolute. Staring at the giant who'd been with us since day dot, I swore to myself then that I wouldn’t ever kick them, no matter what. As long as there was the single atom of hope, I’d never kick them. They’d never felt chosen, wanted. I could change that. I wanted to change that.

  They couldn’t continue thinking like they weren’t valued, both as a party member and my friend. I hadn’t realised just how much the party meant to them, but that didn’t mean I didn’t reciprocate. It wasn't the same feelings I held toward Axel, now I knew how I truly thought about him, but I still treasured Jye. I would lay my own life on the line to protect them too.

  They were important. They were wanted. Even with the fate of humanity versus theirs.

  I wanted to protect them.

  From themself, if that’s how it had to be.

  I couldn’t lose them too.

  “No. I'm not going to kick you. You’ll be there with us at the end.” It didn't matter that Jye wouldn't believe me. That wasn't important. They just needed to know that was how I felt. They needed to hear my conviction break through their doubt.

  That I wanted them to live.

  For a moment, Jye just eyed me, each of their thoughts flying across their face as visible as a billboard sign; shock, betrayal, distrust, shame, defeat. Accepting that it was okay to exist as they were. That I would take that risk for them. Risk the world for them. Then, they sank slowly back into the couch’s cushioning, their hand retreating. The redhead’s green eyes were red now, and it looked like something of a weight had been lifted from their shoulders, even as the sofa swallowed part of their frame.

  They blew a raspberry between their lips and then said, “You suck, man,” but it sounded more like, “Thank you.”

  Though I didn’t agree to it, Jye ambled over to the security system computer and brought up a bootleg rip of some season of Pretty Cure, the subs hilariously wrong. They didn’t explain where they’d gotten it from, but we didn’t say anything else. I assumed this was from their own personal collection they’d picked up when they’d visited their shoebox flat. The kaleidoscopic and saturated colors of the show’s magical girl transformations were probably a treat for the now blazed giant.

  We sat there in silence as the anime played, its sound barely audible from the dingy monitor, occasionally laughing at a poor mistranslation, while we waited until Jye finished their joint. The giant appeared semi-present; I think they were working on their attributes and abilities too.

  Me, however, I was content to just sit and fade in and out of the anime, sinking deep into the soft padding of the sofa. While I should’ve brought up Bia’s title, it felt like a long time since I’d relaxed with a friend like this, just enjoying their company, of being in their presence, so I made the decision to push those queries to the backburner. Excluding Axel, because he hadn’t really counted as my friend at the time, the last time I had hung out with someone like this probably would’ve been during university. With Emory. I hoped she was still alive. She was a smart woman.

  Jye had the timing of their joint down to an art, with the episode over as they took their last hit from the vestiges of what remained. Then, they reached over and snuffed the last embers out in a smoke tray at the security system’s desk. With a pat on my shoulder, they flicked the autoplaying Pretty Cure off and headed back upstairs.

  I followed them up until we split at the hallway to our separate bedrooms. Jye paused, lingering just outside their room. I waited for their parting words, wondering what magical clarity the girls had worked on them.

  They cleared their throat. “I won’t try again, okay? Pinky promise. Just so long as you swear if worst comes to worst… you’ll kick me. You gotta swear, dude.”

  They'd taken the bait, the hope I'd dangled in front of them. I shouldn't have felt good for manipulating them, but joy coursed through me knowing that they'd still their hand. That I wouldn't lose a friend.

  “I swear,” I lied.

  I'd already sworn to myself that I would never kick them, after all. With a nod, their large back disappeared into the darkness of their room, and their door swung shut behind them.

  Perhaps I should've been disturbed with the choices I'd made, that I'd lied to my friend's face, and, truthfully, yes, it did make unease bubble inside me.

  But just like I could kill to save Axel, I could lie to save Jye.

  Neither of them were a question of morals anymore. Just a question of what I'd do for the people I cared about. And the answer was anything.

  I'd accepted that part of me now.

  The loss of my and Axel’s parents had sent that fear of selfishness into the stratosphere.

  The world wasn’t so kind a place that you could exist without the risk of hurting others.

  After making my way back to my room, I slipped under the bed sheets, but while I’d been gone, Axel had splayed out his entire body over the bed, so I squeezed into what little space remained, trying my hardest not to disturb him. He stirred anyway. Easing back a little bit to allow me room, Axel shifted to spoon me, his arms wreathing around my torso. The instinctual reaction, generous and sweet, warmed my chest, lightening some of my emotional discomfort.

  It really was something else, returning to bed knowing this was waiting for me every night. That I wanted to be here. He sleepily pressed his face into the back of my neck, and I heard a judgemental sniff. I could easily imagine the accompanying expression. The furrowing of his brows, the near pout on his lips.

  “You brought the bakery back with you,” he said, distaste heavy in his tone. Despite his love for parties, Axel was very much a drug-free type of person and very critical of users. In particular, he thought pot smelled horrendous. And yet he didn't pull away.

  The comment relieved the remaining tension in my stomach, and I laughed.