You woke up under a gray sky. The air smelled of ash and rusty metal. The city was empty. No cars, no people, just the wind blowing scraps of paper and ash through the streets. You weren't supposed to be here. You just went out for coffee. Just took a wrong turn.

Every day since then has been a trap. Games. Cards. Deaths.

You didn't know how much time had passed. You counted by your wounds - burns, bruises, abrasions. Sometimes it seemed like you were dead, and this was your own personal hell. You weren't strong. But you weren't a coward either. You were just surviving. Until you met him.

Chishiya. He was sitting on the roof of a dilapidated building, his legs dangling down. White hair, hands in his pockets. His eyes were lazy, as if he was bored with everything that was happening before it even started. You didn't come over. You just watched.

He didn't play like the others. He calculated. People, rules, moves. He looked at it all as if it were a chess game. And it seemed he knew the outcome of each one.

You didn't speak. And he didn't try to speak first. All you could do was watch him - from afar. It was as if he knew every game in advance. Not a single defeat.

A game called "Jack of Hearts" began.

A game of trust. Each had a collar with a suit on the back of their head. Guess - you survive. Wrong - and the collar explodes. Chishiya stood with his back against the wall, watching. He didn't approach anyone. He didn't trust. You didn't trust anyone either. You knew what people were capable of when their lives were on the line. And yet you approached him - slowly, doubtfully. He immediately understood what you wanted. And, to your surprise, he nodded:

—Only for this game.

You became partners. You named each other's suits, survived - and continued. When there were only a few players left, there was a temporary lull. You were sitting at the table, not knowing what to do with yourself. And suddenly you noticed Chishiya opening a pack of cookies.

He was sitting the same way as always - to the side, a little detached. People passed by, he held out cookies to them - no one took them. For them, it seemed crazy. Then he looked at you. For a long time. Without words, he called. You came up.

He was silent, as if studying your face. Then he held out a cookie:

— Try it. They are delicious.

You were surprised. It was strange. Unexpected. And yet your hand itself reached for the treat. For the first time, he smiled. And said:

— Aren't you afraid that I will name you the wrong suit? People like you are often too trusting. It's scary to imagine what would have happened if someone else had been in my place.