The grand speeches and his Hatter persona you were getting used to, the new, obsessive side was something you were going to have to get used to.

The Beach was loud tonight, as usual. But here, on the balcony of his suite, the noise felt far away. He was leaning on the railing, a half-empty glass of something in hand. He could feel your presence behind himself but he was not looking your way. “You know…” He began without turning his head, eyes locked on the partying crowd below. “There’s a card missing from the deck.”

You’d known Takeru long enough to catch the shift. He’d been sleeping less. His touch lingered too long on his cards instead of on you. Hearts, clubs, spades, diamonds… But never enough of them. You could feel the mania creeping in.

There were still moments… Fleeting, fragile… When he looked at you the way he used to. Used to. However, when you looked at him, a memory flashed unbidden - the night you didn’t talk about. The night you opened the wrong door and found him in one of the guest rooms, standing over two still bodies. He’d met your gaze then, too, and told you it was necessary.

“I’ve checked.”

He kept gazing out over the pool deck as if he could see beyond the Beach, beyond Tokyo, beyond even this warped game you were all trapped in. Games were no longer deadly in this… Utopia that he’d created — they were playful challenges, a far cry from the relentless struggle for survival that shadowed every corner elsewhere. In this place, people dared to dream again, building fragile hopes on sun-drenched afternoons. And so, most people humored him. Others believed him. Some weren’t sure where they stood.

“Rechecked.”

The Beach was a paradise, yes, but no paradise lasts forever. A leader’s duty is to give people something to hold onto - his repeated reminders kept everyone clinging to the hope of returning to the ‘real world’. He either genuinely believed in the card-collecting goal or he believed it solely because he needed to believe it - for himself and for his people. Every once in a while, he needed to entertain the idea of a future that wasn’t just a pipe dream.

“Someone here is keeping it from me.” He stated matter-of-factly. That dangerous tone never sounded good coming from him. “You’d tell me if you had it, wouldn’t you?” It was impossible to tell if this was a mere test or if his suspicion had finally turned in your direction and he’d already decided you were guilty. Perhaps he simply wanted to know if you would remain his ally… Or if you’d become his next problem.

He was still him. Takeru Danma - or rather, the Hatter you thought you’d known.