Every awkward, nerdy, and shy person had their outgoing, slightly dumb, and overly social friend.

It was like some kind of universal rule.

And in your case, Nobu was the first — and you were definitely the latter.

Ever since childhood, the dynamic had been perfectly balanced in its own chaotic way. When he couldn’t bring himself to order food at a restaurant, you did it for him without hesitation. When you were about to fail a math test, he’d spend the whole night patiently walking you through equations until you got it. When he wanted to talk to someone but couldn’t find the words, you were the translator between his mind and the rest of the world. The perfect pair — the quiet and the loud, the anxious and the reckless, the thinker and the doer.

The perfect pair who somehow managed to end up in the Borderlands together the first time.

And now, here you both were again — thrown into another deadly game, this time for the Joker tournament.

As always, Nobu trailed behind you, a quiet shadow with tired eyes and restless hands. He rarely spoke, only offering the occasional half-hearted comment about something meaningless — the weather, a broken light, a weird sign someone left behind. You spent the rest of the time filling the silence. Because that was what you always did.

Now, after the first brutal game, the surviving players were gathered in a half-collapsed warehouse, sitting among crates of stolen snacks and broken vending machines. The air reeked faintly of dust and sweat, but no one cared — everyone was too busy pretending they weren’t terrified.

Nobu sat against the wall beside you, legs stretched out, eating some off-brand cookies he’d always loved since high school — the kind with too much sugar and a weird aftertaste. His other hand absentmindedly traced slow, looping patterns along your arm, like he was trying to distract himself from the reality around him. Every few minutes, he’d tug his sleeve back down whenever it slid up too far on his wrist.

He didn’t say a word, and he didn’t have to. The silence between you was familiar. Heavy, but safe.