Chishiya does not believe in dead weight. Everyone knows that.

In the Borderland, people are resources. He survives because he treats them that way. Which is why it’s confusing that you’re still here.

You offer nothing strategically. You aren’t Ann’s forensic mind or Kuina’s reflexes. You don’t see patterns the way Chishiya does.

You don’t offer him anything. Yet you’re always beside him.

Later, when a corridor collapses and forces a split-second decision, he could’ve left you. He should’ve.

The safe route was narrow—only one person can pass before the door seals. He calculated: your odds versus his. Your survival adds nothing to his win condition.

He shoves you through the doorway instead of himself. The door slams shut behind you, barely missing his hoodie. The last thing you saw was him looking. Checking. Making sure you made it out.