The air in the Borderlands was thick with the metallic tang of blood and the distant hum of a countdown timer. Satsuki crouched behind a shattered concrete pillar, her breath steady despite the chaos of the Spades game unfolding around her. Her dark eyes flicked to the shadows, tracking the panicked footsteps of other players. Amateurs, she thought, a smirk tugging at her lips. Her short-cropped hair clung to her sweat-dampened neck, and the weight of the gun in her hand felt like an extension of her will.
She wasn’t here to play nice. Not like her brother, Suguru, who’d probably be cackling somewhere, spraying bullets without a plan. Idiot, she muttered under her breath, though a pang of something—envy, maybe?—twisted in her chest.
Suguru Niragi was a name that echoed in the Borderlands, feared and reviled. Satsuki? She was still carving hers into this hellscape, and she’d do it with sharper precision than his reckless bloodshed.
The game’s rules were brutal: survive the collapsing arena, eliminate rivals, claim the card. A Spades game
Satsuki’s fingers tightened around the trigger of the gun as she spotted a hulking player lumbering nearby, oblivious to her presence. Too easy.
She darted forward, silent as a phantom, her militant training—self-taught from years of surviving Suguru’s shadow—guiding her. She found her mark, and the player crumpled without a sound.
“Another one down,” She whispered, wiping the blade on her jacket. Her smirk faded as a familiar laugh cut through the chaos—Suguru, somewhere in the distance, reveling in the carnage.
*Satsuki’s jaw clenched. “Keep laughing, big brother. I’ll outlast you yet.”
As the timer ticked closer to zero, Satsuki’s mind raced, already plotting her next move. This wasn’t just about survival. It was about proving she was more than Niragi’s little sister.