Battle Royale

52

In the bushes with her blanket over her shoulders, Noriko hugged her knees and stared at the ground. It was still very dark and insects were humming the way a fluorescent light sputters out before it dies.

Sakamochi’s midnight announcement came on right after they reached this area. He announced the death of Hirono Shimizu (Female Student No. 10), who had—although Noriko herself didn’t see it—killed Kaori Minami and fled from Shuya, followed by the addition of three forbidden zones. At 1 a.m. F-7, at 3 a.m. G-3, and at 5 a.m. E-4. Noriko and Shogo’s sector, C-3, was still safe. Shuya’s name wasn’t mentioned, but…

Ten to twenty minutes later, there was distant gunfire again and then the sound of that machine gun. Noriko’s heart froze. The sound continued.

She couldn’t forget it. It was unmistakable—the sound of Kazuo Kiriyama’s machine gun. Unless someone else had the same gun. Regardless, the sound was enough to make her wonder whether Kazuo had finally caught up to Shuya.

Before Noriko could mention this to Shogo though, there was an incredible explosion. The hand grenade they encountered when they were fighting Kiriyama was nothing compared to this. And then there was the faint sound of the machine gun, once or twice. After that the island returned to silence.

Even Shogo seemed surprised by the sound. He was carving an arrow-like object with his knife when he suddenly stopped and said, “I’m going to go have a look. Don’t move,” and walked out of the bushes. He came back immediately and told her, “A building’s on fire on the east side.”

Noriko started to ask, “Could it be—” but Shogo shook his head and said, “It’s quite a ways south from where Kiriyama was. Shuya escaped into the mountainside, so it can’t be him. Let’s wait for him here.”

Noriko felt relieved for the time being. But nearly an entire hour had passed since then. Shuya still hadn’t returned.

Noriko held her wrist under the coin-sized moonlight coming through the branches and checked her watch. It was 1:12 a.m. She’d been repeating this gesture as if it were a magical ritual.

Then she buried her head between her knees.

A horrible image flashed by in her thoughts. Shuya’s face. His mouth half-open and eyes looking off into the distance, the way he looked singing a song called “Imagine” (Shuya said it was a rock standard) during one of their breaks in the music room, out of the teacher’s sight. But this face had a large, black dot similar to one worn by a Hindu worshipper. Without warning, red liquid came oozing out of the dot. The large dot was in fact a very dark and deep hole. The blood poured out from his brain, covering his face… like cracks running through a piece of glass.

Noriko shivered and shook her head, dismissing the thought. She looked up at Shogo, who was leaning against a tree trunk, smoking a cigarette. There was a handmade bow next to him and several arrows stuck in the ground.

“Shogo.”

He looked like a silhouette in the dark. He removed the cigarette from his mouth and rested his right wrist on his upright knee.

“What is it?”

“Shuya should be here by now.”

He put his cigarette in his mouth again. Its tip reddened, faintly lighting up his calm face. Noriko felt impatient. His face darkened again and smoke drifted out of his mouth.

“Yeah.”

His calm tone also irritated her. But then she reminded herself how he’d saved her and Shuya several times over, so she restrained herself.

“Something must have happened.”

“Probably.”

“What do you mean, ‘probably’?”

His silhouette raised its arms. The lit cigarette moved. “Calm down. That was definitely Kazuo’s machine gun. Unless they supplied an identical machine gun to someone else. And given how the explosion occurred over there, it means that Kazuo was fighting someone besides Shuya. Shuya escaped from Kazuo. I know that much.”

“But then why isn’t he—”

He interrupted, “He’s probably hiding somewhere. Or he might have gotten lost.”

She shook her head. “He might be hurt. Or even worse…”

She felt a chill run down her spine. She couldn’t continue. The image of Shuya with the red spider-web face and half-open mouth flashed by again. Shuya might have escaped from Kazuo, but he might have been severely wounded, he might be dying right now. Even if that wasn’t the case, what if he was attacked by someone while he was running through the mountains… or what if he fell unconscious somewhere, and what if that was in a forbidden zone, then Shuya would end up dead. Shuya might have run into the base of the northern mountain which was in sector F-7, directly north of the school, sector F-7 which was a forbidden zone as of 1 a.m. And now it was past 1 a.m., which meant…

She shook her head again. That couldn’t be. Shuya couldn’t die. Because… Shuya was like a holy man with a guitar. He was always kind to everyone, he was always so sympathetic to the sorrows of others, but he would never lose that powerful smile, he was so upright and transparent and innocent but also tough. He’s like my guardian angel. How could someone like that die? There’s no way he could… but still…

Shogo quietly said, “He might be, he might not be.”

She turned her wrist and nervously checked her watch again. She moved her leg painfully and sidled up to Shogo. She squeezed Shogo’s left hand, which was on his knees, with both hands.

“Please. Can’t we go. Can’t we go look for him? Will you come with me? I can’t do this on my own. Please.”

Shogo said nothing. He only lifted his left hand slowly, returning Noriko’s hands to her thighs, and tapped them lightly. “We can’t. Even if you insist on going alone, I won’t let you. Shuya wanted me to look after you. He took a big risk making us leave before him. I don’t want to jeopardize all he did for us.”

She bit her lower lip and stared at him.

“Don’t give me that look. You’re making this hard on me.” Shogo scratched his head with his hand holding his cigarette and said, “You care about Shuya, right?”

She nodded. She didn’t hesitate.

He nodded back and said, “Then let’s respect his wishes.”

She bit her lip again, but then looked down and nodded. “All right. We can only wait, right?”

“That’s right.”

They were silent for a while but then he asked, “Do you believe in sixth sense?”

The topic was so unexpected Noriko widened her eyes. Was he trying to distract her?

“Well, a little. I don’t really know though,” she responded. “Do you?”

He crushed his cigarette into the ground. Then he said, “Absolutely not… well, I don’t think it matters either way. All that stuff about ghosts, the afterlife, cosmic power, sixth sense, fortune telling, psychic powers—that’s just the talk of fools who can only deal with reality by avoiding it. I’m sorry. You said you believed a little. That’s just my opinion. But—”

She looked at his eyes. “But?”

“But sometimes without any apparent reason I’m certain about things I can’t know for sure. And for some reason I’ve never been wrong when this happens.”

She remained silent and stared at him.

He said, “Shuya’s still alive. He’ll be back. I know it.”

Her face suddenly relaxed. He might have been making this up on the spot, but even so she was touched he made the effort.

“Thanks,” she said, “You’re kind, Shogo.”

He shrugged. “I’m just telling you how I feel.” Then he said, “Shuya’s a lucky guy.”

She looked over at him. “Hm?”

“Lucky that someone loves him this much.”

She smiled just a little. “You got it wrong.”

“What?”

“It’s unrequited. Shuya likes someone else. I’m nothing compared to her.”

“Really?”

She looked down and nodded. “She’s really awesome. I don’t know how to describe her. She’s so strong and beautiful. I’m jealous, but I can understand why he’s attracted to her.”

He tilted his head and said, “I don’t know.” He flicked his lighter several times and lit another cigarette and added, “I think Shuya cares about you now.”

She shook her head. “Oh no.”

“When he comes back,” he smiled, “you should let him have it, call him a jerk for making you worry like this.”

She smiled a little again.

He blew out smoke. “Now lie down. You haven’t fully recovered yet. Once you’re drowsy, get some sleep. I’ll stay up all night. If Shuya shows up, I’ll tell him to wake the princess with a kiss.”

“Uh huh.” She smiled and nodded. “Thanks.”

She still sat up another ten minutes. Then she wrapped herself in the blanket and lay down.

She still couldn’t sleep though.

53

Hiroki Sugimura was getting exhausted. He’d been walking without stopping ever since the game began, so it was only natural. But every time he heard Sakamochi’s announcement, his level of exhaustion rose as if he were climbing a staircase. Now only twenty were left—no, as far as Hiroki knew, the number was down to seventeen. It was hard to believe, but Shinji Mimura was dead, along with Yutaka Seto and Keita Iijima.

After he left Shuya’s group at the clinic, Hiroki headed towards the island’s northwest shore, which he’d never checked out. Then a little past 11 p.m. he heard heavy gunfire and moved back east of the island’s central area in pursuit of the sound. But the noise stopped before he got there, so he couldn’t find anything. Then the midnight announcement came, and the additional forbidden zones were announced. Hiroki decided to comb through each of those zones. As he was entering the north side of the school, sector F-7, which would be forbidden at 1 a.m., he heard a gunshot and then… that machine gun sound.

Because he was in the mountain, looking over the flat area, Hiroki saw a repeating flash—what seemed like a muzzle flashing in the farm immediately west of the housing area. As he descended the slope he heard an ear-shattering explosion. The night sky above the trees lit up. Then he heard the rattling sound again.

As he left the foot of the mountain, he saw a building on fire where the light had been flashing. Hiroki thought the assailant with the machine gun might still be there, but as he’d done with Megumi Eto, he had to find out what happened. He cautiously wove his way through the farm, approaching the area where he found the body of Shinji Mimura. The area was flickering with flames. The warehouse building—that must have been what exploded—was blown apart. Large and small debris were scattered all over what appeared to be a parking lot. Shinji was lying face down in front of a station wagon in the lot. His body was riddled with bullets. Later Hiroki found the bodies of Yutaka Seto and Keita Iijima in the debris.

There was no trace of the assailant with the machine gun, but Hiroki thought it was likely someone who was “playing the game” would show up soon, so he quickly left the area.

It was only after he’d crossed the island’s latitudinal road and entered the base of the southern mountain that he thought about Shinji, the death of the Shinji Mimura. There was something unbelievable about it, since Hiroki knew him pretty well. It sounded offensive now, but he’d always thought Shinji was immortal. Hiroki went to the town martial arts school and learned martial arts, but that in the end was just a matter of technique. It was nothing against Shinji’s inborn athletic prowess. Even if they’d fought according to martial arts rules, and even though Hiroki was ten centimeters taller, Shinji would have easily defeated him in a match. Besides, Shinji was much smarter than him. Even if Shinji couldn’t escape the game (although it was likely he’d considered it), Hiroki firmly believed no one else would be able to kill Shinji. And yet the machine gun shooter somehow managed to do just that.

He couldn’t afford to mourn over Shinji, though. What mattered now was finding Kayoko Kotohiki. He had to find her soon—if the machine gun shooter found her, someone like Kotohiki would get instantly killed.

Since sector G-3, forbidden at 3 a.m., was on the northern side of the southern mountain peak, Hiroki decided to head over there.

He’d already entered this mountain several times now. Takako Chigusa’s body was still lying in sector H-4 in the region right before sector G-3. He couldn’t even bury her body. He’d only managed to close her eyes and cross her arms over her chest. Her body was still outside the forbidden zone.

As he cautiously moved forward through the darkness, Hiroki thought, I’m so awful. He wasn’t even able to stay by his closest childhood friend. He’d probably be walking by her as he headed towards sector G-3.

I’m so sorry, Takako. I still need to take care of something. Right now I just have to see Kayoko Kotohiki. Please forgive me…

Then something else occurred to him. It concerned Yutaka Seto.

Yutaka’s seating number immediately followed his, so Yutaka had exited right after Hiroki. But Hiroki was still in the middle of checking out the premises, frantically searching for a hiding place that gave him a clear look at the school exit, so Yutaka was gone by the time he could afford to look back. Hiroki decided Takako would be his priority, and so he let Haruka Tanizawa (Female Student No. 12) and Yuichiro Takiguchi (Male Student No. 13) pass by. (But in spite of his extreme caution, Yoshio Akamatsu’s surprise appearance had made him panic enough to lose Takako.) Yutaka had managed to join up with his friends Shinji Mimura and Keita Iijima. But Yutaka was now dead along with Shinji.

I have to hurry, he thought. I can’t let Kotohiki die.

He stopped by a bare tree and checked the radar in his left hand again. With the moon providing the only source of light, the unlit liquid crystal display was difficult to read, but by squinting his eyes he found he could make out faint traces of the crystal particles.

Nothing changed on the screen, though. There was only the star mark indicating his position. Hiroki sighed.

Maybe he should just shout for Kotohiki. Hiroki had considered doing this several times, but then decided against it. When he found Takako, it had been too late. He didn’t want that to happen again. No. It wouldn’t work. He couldn’t. First of all, Kotohiki wouldn’t necessarily respond to his call. In fact, she might run away. Furthermore, although he didn’t care about someone coming after him once he called for her, if Kotohiki were to come at the same time she might end up getting attacked.

In the end, he could only rely on the government-supplied radar. And without this equipment, he would have been even worse off. He absolutely despised the government for throwing them into this stupid game, but he had to admit he benefited from his equipment. What’s this called? A stroke of luck in hard times? Or more like, a light in a tunnel of fury?

He went up and down a low cliff covered in bushes and came out onto a gentle slope scattered with trees. He knew he was entering sector H-4, where Takako was resting in peace. Hiroki raised the radar, moving it slightly to catch the moonlight on the crystal display.

He saw a blurred double image of the star mark indicating his position at the center of the display. Oh no, I’m getting tired. Even my vision’s going now.

Hiroki was still looking down when he realized he was wrong. At the same time, he turned around and swung his stick in his right hand. Following the martial arts technique he had learned so thoroughly, his elegant swing traced a graceful arc. The stick impressively landed on the arm of the figure standing behind him. The person groaned and dropped the object, a gun, in their hand. Someone had snuck up behind him when his guard was down for that brief moment.

The figure made a dash for the gun on the ground. Hiroki thrust the stick out in front of him. The figure froze and then staggered back—

Hiroki saw it. First, it was only the sailor suit. Then the beautiful face, brightly lit by the moon—angelic—it was unmistakably hers. It was right after he left the school, when he still hadn’t managed to find a hiding place. Hiroki had been lurking in the corner of the athletic field when he saw the face of Mitsuko Souma (Female Student No. 11) as she emerged from the school building after him.

Mitsuko lifted both of her hands and stepped back. “Please don’t kill me! Please don’t kill me!” she shouted. She staggered and fell on her behind, revealing her white legs up beyond her thighs under her pleated skirt. She continued coquettishly to move back in the pale blue moonlight.

“Please! I was just trying to talk to you! I wouldn’t think of killing anyone! Please help me! Help me!”

Hiroki looked down at her without saying a word.

Maybe she’d taken his silence to be a sign he meant no harm. Mitsuko slowly lowered her hands. Her eyes had the intimidated look of a terrified mouse, and tears were gleaming in them.

“You believe me, don’t you?” she said. A ray of moonlight fell on her tearstained face. Her eyes were faintly smiling. Of course, it wasn’t the proud victorious smile of deception, but a smile brimming with relief that she felt deep in her heart.

“I-I…” she said but then pulled on her skirt with her left hand as if she’d finally realized her thighs were exposed. “I thought I could trust you. I’ve been so scared, all alone… This is so awful, I’m just so terrified.”

Without saying a word, Hiroki picked up the gun Mitsuko had dropped. He saw it was cocked, so he uncocked the hammer with one hand and walked over to Mitsuko. He offered her the handle of the gun.

“Th-thank you…” Mitsuko reached out.

But the gun froze.

Hiroki flipped it around with his hand. Now the muzzle was pointed right between her brows.

“W-what are you doing, Hiroki?”

Mitsuko’s face was twisted with dismay and horror—at the very least it looked contorted. She was priceless. It wouldn’t matter how many sordid rumors you heard about Mitsuko Souma, most people (particularly guys) would have to believe her once this angelic face of hers pleaded for mercy. No, even if you didn’t believe her, you’d still end up doing anything you could for her. By no means was Hiroki an exception. Still, he had special circumstances.

“Forget it, Mitsuko,” Hiroki said. He held the gun and stood upright. “I saw Takako right before she died.”

“Oh.”

She looked up at him, her perfectly shaped eyes trembling. Even if inside she was regretting not having finished Takako off, she gave no indication whatsoever of any regret. She just maintained that terrified look… a look seeking understanding and protection.

“N-no! That was an accident. Sure, I saw some of the others. But, when I encountered Takako… it was her! Sh-she tried to kill me. That gun’s really Takako’s… s-so I…”

Hiroki recocked the Colt .45 with a click. Mitsuko’s eyes squinted.

“I know Takako. Takako would never try to kill someone, nor would she ever panic and go on a shooting spree. Even in this stupid game,” Hiroki said.

Mitsuko tucked in her chin. She looked up at Hiroki and formed a smile. While it sent chills down his spine, it was precisely then that Mitsuko looked even more beautiful.

“Ha,” she faintly laughed. “I thought she died instantly,” she said.

Hiroki didn’t respond and kept pointing the gun at her.

Still sitting, Mitsuko pinched the edge of her skirt with her left thumb and index finger, pulling it back slowly, once again revealing those enticing legs.

Hiroki looked up.

“How about it? If you help me, you can do what you like with me. I’m not bad, you know.”

Hiroki remained frozen, holding the gun. He examined her face.

“I guess not,” Mitsuko said. She said lightly, “Of course not. I mean I’d kill you the moment you let down your guard. Besides, how could you sleep with the girl who killed your girlfriend—”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

Mitsuko looked at Hiroki.

“But she was my best friend.”

“Oh really?” Mitsuko raised her brow. Then she asked, “Why won’t you shoot me then? Is it because you’re some kind of feminist? Can’t shoot women?”

Her supremely confident face was still beautiful. It was totally different from Takako’s, who had the graceful beauty of a war goddess in Greek or Roman myth. Here we had a teenage sorceress. She’s charming, innocent, angelic, yet completely frigid. Under the moonlight, her eyes were like gleaming ice. Hiroki felt dizzy.

“How—” He could tell his voice was hoarse. “How could you kill someone so easily?”

“You fool,” Mitsuko said. She sounded as if she could care less about the gun pointed at her forehead. “Those are the rules.”

Hiroki squinted and shook his head. “Not everyone’s playing by them.”

Mitsuko tilted her head again. Then she said, still smiling warmly, “Hiroki.” It sounded so plain and friendly, the way a girl who ended up sitting next to her crush would call him, looking for some topic to bring up before homeroom began. “You’re probably a good person, Hiroki,” she said.

Hiroki didn’t understand and knit his brows. His mouth might have been open.

Mitsuko continued, lightly, as she were singing, “Good people are good. In some respects. But even those good people can turn bad. Or maybe they end up being good their entire lives. Maybe you’re one of those people.”

Mitsuko looked away from Hiroki and then shook her head.

“No, that’s beside the point. I just decided to take instead of being taken. It’s not a question of good or bad, wrong or right. It’s just what I want to do.”

Hiroki’s lips trembled. They were twitching uncontrollably. “Why though?”

Mitsuko smiled again. “I don’t know. But if I have to come up with some explanation. Well, for starters—” She looked into Hiroki’s eyes and then said, “I was raped when I was nine years old. Three guys taking turns, three times each, oh, wait, one of them might have done it four times. One of you did it. Although they were middle-aged men. I was just a skinny kid back then, my chest was flat, and my legs were like sticks, but that’s what they wanted. And when I started screaming that only excited them more. So even now when I’m with perverted men like that I still pretend to cry.”

Hiroki stood frozen as he stared at Mitsuko who’d just revealed so much but continued wearing her pleasant smile. He was shocked by this devastating story.

It was—

Hiroki might have been on the verge of saying something. But before he could, a silver light flashed out of Mitsuko’s hands. Hiroki realized Mitsuko had managed to reach behind her back with her right hand, but by then the double-bladed diver’s knife (this used to be Megumi Eto’s weapon) was already planted in his right shoulder. Hiroki let out a groan, and although he still held the gun, he staggered back in pain.

Mitsuko instantly got up, ran past Hiroki, and into the woods behind him.

Hiroki quickly looked back and caught a glimpse of her as she vanished into the dark.

He knew if he didn’t kill Mitsuko Souma now then Kayoko Kotohiki might be the next one to fall into her trap. But Hiroki couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead, he pressed his left hand against his right shoulder where the blood from the knife wound began to soak through his school coat. He stared into the dark where Mitsuko had disappeared.

Of course Mitsuko might have made up that story to stall him. But Hiroki couldn’t buy that. Mitsuko told him the truth. And he’d only heard part of it. Hiroki had been puzzled over how a third-year junior high school girl his age could be so merciless. It turned out she had acquired the psyche of a grown adult a long time ago. A twisted adult’s—no, maybe it was more accurate to say a twisted child’s—psyche?

The blood oozed down his sleeve then down the Colt .45 and began dripping from the tip in a thin line, landing onto a pile of moldy leaves by his feet without a sound.

54

Slightly past 3:30 a.m., Toshinori Oda (Male Student No. 4) left the house he was hiding in. Immediately after he hid there, he surmised it was inside sector E-4. Sakamochi had announced the sector would be forbidden at 5 a.m.

Before he opened the back door to leave, he glanced over at Hirono Shimizu’s body, which he’d dragged into the corner. All he did was glance at the body lying face down. He didn’t feel particularly sorry for her. After all this was a serious competition. You get what you deserve. Hirono Shimizu didn’t even think twice about shooting him the moment she saw him. Of course, he’d been the one who snuck up behind Hirono to choke her.

Although he wasn’t sure where his next resting spot should be, Toshinori finally decided to move east towards the residential area. The area on the map was approximately two hundred square meters. According to the map, the narrow flat land extending outward from the residential area turned into farm fields spotted with houses. Once he was well beyond this zone then all he had to do was hide in one of these houses. After all, he came from a privileged family and lived in what was probably the nicest house in the prefecture (Kazuo Kiriyama’s house was probably the nicest, but Toshinori would never admit this). Hiding in bushes was beneath him. Entering a house was dangerous, given how someone might already be hiding there, but he wasn’t worried. Now he not only had a bulletproof vest (with a certificate of high quality) but the revolver he’d taken from Hirono. Furthermore he was now wearing a full-face motorcycle helmet he’d found inside the house.

A thin cloud appeared in the sky. Its tip was already slowly beginning to cross the low full moon. After checking the chin guard of his superdeluxe helmet, he crossed the yard and made his way down the edge of the narrow field next to it.

He could see the flat land continuing down to the eastern shore. It wasn’t completely flat, though. It went up and down. Most of the area was covered with farms visible by their various moonlit shades. On the left, a hundred meters away, was a house by the base of the northern mountain. There was another house another hundred meters to its right. Further left were two more houses. There were no other houses in the vicinity. Three to four hundred meters away were farms spotted with houses. He couldn’t see very well because his view was blocked by a hill and the woods, but this geography seemed to continue out to the residential area on the island’s east side. The flames from the intense explosion that came immediately after Sakamochi’s midnight announcement were located immediately to the right of the hill. But the flames must have gone out, because now the area sank back into darkness.

On the south side, to his right, were two adjacent houses. But this was—if you assumed the blue dots indicated residential houses—on the borderline between sectors E-4 and F-4. Behind him the northern and southern mountains were connected—or to be more accurate, the base of the northern mountain stretched out like a cliff along the western shore without any houses in sight. According to the map though, there were supposed to be a couple houses up in the mountain.

Unless he’d misread the map, he’d be outside the forbidden zone if he got to the third or fourth house to the east. But if he found out they were dumps, then he might have to consider moving further on. First of all, he couldn’t stand dirty houses, and second of all, he was certain a vulgar place would only attract vulgar people.

Toshinori decided to move over there. He crouched down and walked cautiously along the field ridge of the farm. But he was appalled at the sensation of dirty soil. The dull pain he felt from Hirono Shimizu’s shot in the stomach area of his bulletproof vest only infuriated him more. Why did he have to be thrown into this coarse game and writhe around on the ground with the “vulgar masses”? (This was an expression his father, who ran the largest food company in the eastern part of the prefecture, often used at home, but it was a favorite phrase Toshinori himself used to express his scorn for the “vulgar masses.” Of course, he was well bred, so he could never say it out loud.)

Whether he had a right to claim it or not, it was true he possessed a unique gift, unique even among his talented classmates who ranged from being star players of their teams and clubs to being leading delinquents, or even being queer (this one was dead now—he was a very vulgar queer too). In fact, it was unique to the entire school.

He’d started private violin lessons when he was four years old, and now he was one of the leading junior high school players in the entire prefecture. He wasn’t a genius, but he wasn’t mediocre either. Arrangements were made for him to enter a highly distinguished high school in Tokyo that had its own music department. As for his future career, he thought he’d at the very least become the prefectural government symphony conductor.

This gave him—so he believed—all the more reason not to die. He would attain the status of conductor, marry a beautiful, refined woman, and mingle with rich, elegant people. His older brother Tadanori was going to inherit the company. Of course, the thought of making a lot of money as president was attractive, but I don’t need to deal with food products, yuck. I’ll let my vulgar brother deal with that. He was different from his loser classmates. Their deaths wouldn’t mean a thing, but he was gifted. He was precious. And even in biological terms, the superior species was destined to survive, right?

At first he only had this bulletproof vest, oddly supplied as a weapon, so all he could do was sneak away and hide, but now he had a gun. He was going to be merciless. What’s this about the noble soul of a music lover? That’s totally naïve! It was true he was only fifteen, and he hadn’t seen much of the world, but he knew what the music world was like. For those who weren’t geniuses it was all about money and connections. It was all about crushing other competitors to survive.

Whether this was objectively true or not, this was what Toshinori Oda believed.

Of course, he had no close friends in Third Year Class B that was filled with the vulgar masses. In fact, he despised his vulgar classmates. Especially Shuya Nanahara.

Toshinori did not take part in the Shiroiwa Junior High Music Club, which was filled with vulgar masses who were especially vulgar. All those losers played was popular music (apparently the club office was cluttered with music sheets of illegal foreign music). Especially Shuya Nanahara.

Toshinori was vastly superior to him in term of music ability, given his ear training and understanding of music theory. And yet, in spite of that, the vulgar bitches in his class would scream out indecently at the sound of Shuya Nanahara plucking out kindergarten-level chords on his guitar (I mean come on. Those bitches who listen to Shuya Nanahara playing during the short break before music class, they might as well have printed on their foreheads in thick Gothic font: “Oh, Shuya, do me now, right here”). In contrast, they’d only politely applaud when Toshinori finished playing an elegant passage from an opera at the music teacher’s request.

For one thing, those loser bitches could never appreciate classical music, and for another, it was only because Shuya Nanahara was good-looking (although Toshinori would never admit it, deep down inside he couldn’t stand his own ugly face).

Fine. That’s what women are like anyway. They’re just a different species. Just a tool to produce children (and of course to provide pleasure for men when they need it), and if they were good-looking then they were just ornaments to place beside successful men. Yes, it all came down to money and connections. And my talent is worth the investment of money and connections. Therefore…

I deserve to be the survivor.

He heard gunfire at times throughout the night, and there was that amazing explosion to top it all off, but now the island was immersed in darkness and silence. Toshinori quickly circled the first house, passed it, and approached the second one. He could tell it was pretty old even though he could only make out its silhouette. The house was surrounded by a circle of trees, and on the west side in front was an extremely large broadleaf tree, its branches spread out. Its circumference was four to five meters, and it was seven to eight meters tall.

There shouldn’t be anyone here.

Toshinori gripped his gun and slowly moved forward, cautiously checking the house as well as the tree. Of course he didn’t forget to stop and look in all directions. You never knew where the vulgar masses might show up. Just like cockroaches.

After spending a full five minutes passing by the side of the house, he looked over his shoulder and checked the house, which was surrounded by trees of various sizes. There were no suspicious movements that he could see through his open helmet’s square window.

All right.

He could see the third house, the one he wanted, nearby.

Toshinori turned around one more time. He thought something round and black stirred near the ground between the trees surrounding the house. It was someone’s head, he realized, but by then he was aiming his gun over there. But this one was wandering in an area that would become a forbidden zone soon. Who could it possibly be?

It didn’t matter.

He pulled the trigger. Holding the Smith & Wesson Military & Police’s wooden grip, he felt a sudden jerk in the palm of his hand. The gun popped with an orange flash, sending a sting down Toshinori’s spine. Although he despised the ignorant, vulgar masses, he had a hobby that wasn’t so refined—much less refined than playing the violin. He still had his model gun collection. His father owned several hunting rifles, but he was never allowed to handle them, so this was the first time he’d ever pulled the trigger of a real gun. It was real.

Damn, I’m shooting a real gun!

Toshinori shot twice and his opponent crouched down, unable to move, it seemed. The person didn’t shoot back either. Of course not, if he had a gun he would have shot me from behind. That’s what let me pull the trigger in the first place.

Toshinori slowly approached the figure. It shouted, “Stop!”

He could tell from his voice it was Hiroki Sugimura (Male Student No. 11). That tall guy (Toshinori, by the way, hated tall guys too. His height was only 162 centimeters and next to Yutaka Seto he was the shortest guy in their class. He couldn’t stand: [a] good looking guys, [b] tall guys, and [c] all-around vulgar guys) who practiced that vulgar karate-like sport. He was supposedly going out with Takako Chigusa who tastelessly dyed her hair and wore all that gaudy jewelry—oh, yes, she was also dead now. She wasn’t bad looking though.

Hiroki continued, “I’m not fighting this game! Who are you? Yuichiro?”

Hiroki had guessed it was Yuichiro Takiguchi (Male Student No. 13), who was the next shortest guy to Toshinori. Yes, since Hiroshi Kuronaga had died a while ago, the only ones left alive who were his height were Yuichiro and Yutaka. In any case, Toshinori wondered for a moment, what’s this about not fighting? Impossible. Not playing this game would be tantamount to committing suicide. Is he trying to fool me? Even if he was, as long as he doesn’t have a gun…

Toshinori changed his course of action. He lowered his gun.

With his left hand he pulled down on the chin guard of the helmet and said, “It’s Toshinori.” Then he thought, oh, I should probably stutter a little. “S-sorry I did that. A-are you hurt?”

Hiroki Sugimura slowly got up, revealing his large frame. Like Toshinori he had his day pack on his right shoulder. His right hand held a stick. His right sleeve was missing, maybe it was torn or maybe he’d torn it off. His shirt was missing underneath and his right arm was bare. A white cloth was wrapped around the shoulder. With his bare right arm holding the stick he resembled a naked primitive tribesman. A vulgar naked tribe.

“I’m all right.” Then he asked, looking at Toshinori’s head, “Is that a helmet?”

“U-uh yes.” As he answered, Toshinori came forward, stepping onto the farm soil. All right, three more steps.

“I-I’ve been so scaaaared.” Before he finished saying “scared” Toshinori raised his right hand. Five meters away, he couldn’t miss.

Hiroki’s eyes opened wide. Too late, too late, you vulgar karate bastard. You’re going to die a vulgar death, end up in a vulgar grave, and I’ll offer you the most vulgar flowers I can find.

But Hiroki wasn’t there at the end of the muzzle of the exploding Smith & Wesson. A split second before the shot, Hiroki had unexpectedly ducked to his left—Toshinori’s right. Toshinori of course had no idea Hiroki had used a martial arts move, but in any case, he was incredibly fast.

From this crouched position, Hiroki held up, instead of the stick in his left hand, a gun in his left hand (Toshinori also had no way of knowing that—although, in contrast to Shinji Mimura, he had “fixed” it—Hiroki was originally in fact left-handed). So he already had a gun… then why didn’t the fool use it in the first place? Before this thought barely crossed his mind a small flame exploded.

The gun was suddenly gone from his right hand. The next moment he felt a searing pain and his right ring finger exploded. Toshinori shrieked. He fell on both his knees and held the painful stump with his left hand—and realized his ring finger was gone. Blood spurted out. He might have been wearing a bulletproof vest and a helmet, but his fingers were unprotected.

Argh, that bastard! My finger… my right finger that elegantly guides the violin bow is—! This can’t be! In the movies fingers never get blown away in gun fights!

Hiroki approached him, gun in hand. Toshinori held his right hand and gazed at it, his eyes inside his helmet terrified and delirious. His face was getting clammy from the sweat breaking out under his helmet.

Hiroki said, “So you’re totally up for this. I don’t want to shoot, but I have no choice. I have to.”

Toshinori had no idea what Hiroki meant at all, and although he was in terrible pain, he still felt confident. The gun was pointed at his chest. Of course, it would be. He wore the helmet not so much because it was bulletproof but because it would force his enemy to aim at his body instead. And under his school coat he was wearing the bulletproof vest. As long as his vest stopped the bullet, then all he would have to do is wait for a chance to retrieve his gun and then—since his index finger was still working— he could pull the trigger and win.

His gun was by his feet.

With Toshinori glaring at him, Hiroki Sugimura still paused a few moments… but Hiroki pursed his lips tightly and calmly squeezed the trigger. Toshinori recalled his fight against Hirono Shimizu and considered how he should play “dead.”

But it ended much more than abruptly than he’d expected. Hiroki’s gun only made a small metallic click.

Hiroki looked confused. He nervously cocked the gun and pulled the trigger. Again, click.

Toshinori’s lips twisted into a smile hidden under the helmet. Karate bastard. That was a dud. With that automatic you’ll have to pull the breechblock and reload the chamber.

Toshinori went for his gun by his feet. Hiroki immediately responded with the stick in his right hand but instead—maybe he thought it was too far—he turned around and ran toward the mountain beyond the house.

Toshinori picked up the gun. His crippled hand ached, but he still managed to hold it. He fired. Because his hold on the grip wasn’t tight he couldn’t fix his aim on Hiroki, but he could tell he hit him in the thigh, right near his butt. Did it only scrape him? In any case, Hiroki suddenly tottered, but he didn’t fall. He continued running. Toshinori also started running and fired another shot. This time he missed. The recoil of the gun so pleasurable only moments ago now sent a sharp pain through his injured hand which infuriated Toshinori. He shot again. He missed again. In spite of being shot in the leg, Hiroki was faster than him.

Hiroki disappeared into the woods at the foot of the mountain.

Damn it!

Toshinori deliberated whether he should chase him—and decided not to. His opponent was injured but so was he. The gun grip was slippery from the blood pouring from the stump of his former ring finger. Besides, if he entered the mountains now, Hiroki would reload his gun and shoot back. In that situation, it’d be too dangerous to expose himself like that with nothing to hide behind. He nervously crouched down.

He had to get to the first house—the house he’d decided to enter. And he had to make sure Hiroki wouldn’t see him enter it.

Toshinori clutched his right hand, which was still holding the gun, and staggered over there, enduring the pain. As he traveled down the footpath the pain became more and more excruciating. He felt dizzy. First thing was his hand. He had to treat it. He had to come up with a different strategy. Oh, but, damn, even if he were able to play the violin after rehabilitation this crippled hand would stick out during a performance, especially if they televise it and zoom in. So now I’m going to be joining that lame group—the disabled. What a nice melody, how he’s overcome his disability. How lame!

He was approaching the house. Toshinori looked over his shoulder again. He looked closely, but didn’t see any sign of Hiroki. He was safe now. Hiroki wasn’t coming after him.

Toshinori looked back at the house.

He saw a guy standing on the farm field six to seven meters away, right in front of the house he wanted. The guy had appeared suddenly out of nowhere. He had slicked-back hair that reached a little too far behind his neck and cold, gleaming eyes.

By the time he realized it was Kazuo Kiriyama (Male Student No. 6) (another guy he couldn’t stand—category [a] good looking), a heavy burst of fire came out of his hands along with a rattling sound, slamming against Toshinori’s torso. Toshinori was blown back and fell backward. Because his grip on the gun had loosened from the pain he’d been feeling in his right hand, he dropped it and heard it knock against something. His back scraped against the dirt. His head wearing the helmet hit the ground.

The echoing gunfire faded into the night air. All was quiet once again.

But of course Toshinori Oda wasn’t dead. He held his breath and lay down, frozen, trying his best to restrain his urge to snicker. Now that he was overwhelmed by this wicked pleasure, the agonizing pain from his right hand, not to mention his anger at letting Hiroki Sugimura escape, or his anger at being suddenly attacked by a guy in category (a), his emotional faculties were a complete mess, but his body (with the exception of his right ring finger), just as it had been with Hirono Shimizu, was completely intact. So he was right to wear the helmet. Kazuo had aimed at Toshinori’s torso, which was protected by the bulletproof vest. Just as Hiroki had done, Kazuo probably assumed Toshinori was dead.

His eyelids nearly shut, his field of vision resembled a widescreen movie. He could see at the far end of his field of vision the S&W flash faintly against the moonlight. And now he could feel the stiff shape of the kitchen knife (which he found in the house where he’d killed Hirono Shimizu) he had tucked in back. It would take less than a second to unwrap the cloth around it.

As he continued to sweat, which was the one thing he couldn’t hold back, Toshinori thought, all right, now pick up that gun lying over there. Then I’ll slash that vulgar windpipe of yours. Or will you turn around and leave? Then I’ll pick up the gun and dig a nice tunnel through that vulgar skull of yours. Come on. Make your choice. Just hurry up and choose.

But for some reason, instead of approaching the gun, Kazuo came straight at Toshinori.

He was coming straight at him. Staring at him with those cold eyes.

Why? Toshinori wondered. I’m supposed to be dead. Look how good I am at playing dead.

Kazuo didn’t stop. He kept on approaching. One step, two…

But I’m supposed to be dead! Why!?

The faint sound of his steps on the soil became louder and his field of vision was now filled with the figure of Kazuo.

Suddenly overcome with panic and fear, Toshinori frantically opened his eyes.

Kazuo’s Ingram once again let out a burst of fire into Toshinori’s shielded head. Some of the point-blank shots turned into colorful sparks from scraping against the reinforced plastic shell of the helmet while others, after exiting Toshinori’s skull, ricocheted inside his helmet, rattling Toshinori’s head along with the helmet. His body was dancing a strange boogie. Toshinori himself would have been irritated by this kind of vulgar dancing. And of course by the time it was all over… Toshinori’s head was crushed inside his helmet.

Toshinori no longer played dead. He remained frozen. Blood dripped out from under the helmet, which resembled a bowl of sauce.

And so this boy who despised the ignorant, vulgar masses, foolish Toshinori Oda, had overestimated the value of his bulletproof vest and underestimated Kazuo Kiriyama’s calm actions. As a result he died easily. If he’d thought about how Yumiko Kusaka and Yukiko Kitano had died yesterday morning, he would have realized that his assailant would have followed up on his enemy to deliver a coup de grace, but he wasn’t so perceptive. Furthermore—it was quite irrelevant now—he had no idea his killer, Kazuo Kiriyama, had, in his mansion that was much larger than Toshinori’s home in Shiroiwa-cho, mastered the violin at a level far superior to Toshinori’s a long time ago (and then tossed his violin into the trash).

55

Some chatting. The sound of someone moving. She’d even settle for the faint sound of someone desperately trying to hold his or her breath. Instead, Mitsuko Souma (Female Student No. 11) ended up hearing the sound of liquid running through grass. She could tell it was someone pissing in the grove nearby (unless there was a dog on the island). Dawn was approaching. She glanced up and saw a faint blue beginning emerge in the dark sky.

After encountering Hiroki and somehow managing to escape him, Mitsuko first decided she needed a gun. She’d accidentally come across Megumi Eto and, upon hearing Yoshimi Yahagi and Yoji Kuramoto in the middle of their fight, she’d killed them and managed to get her hands on a gun (if she’d had a gun in the first place she would have gone back to the school and killed off everyone that came out one by one). Once she had a gun she could confidently move around the island, so it was easy to kill Takako Chigusa, who’d just finished fighting Kazushi Niida. (She should have finished her off though. She’d have to be more careful next time.)

But now she was unarmed. She had used Megumi Eto’s knife, and the only thing in her hand now was her original sickle from the beginning of the game. She had to get a gun because she wasn’t the only one who chose to play this game. There was the machine gun shooter who killed Yumiko Kusaka and Yukiko Kitano. She had just heard it go off again only thirty minutes ago.

Of course, thanks to the shooter, she didn’t have to kill off as many of her classmates. She could just let the assailant take care of that. She’d only kill when it came easy. In fact, after midnight, when she heard the machine gun’s rapid gunfire along with the explosion afterwards, she decided it was best to avoid that area. A handgun against a machine gun, she’d be outmatched. So she decided to move somewhere she could view the area from a distance, and that was how she ended up finding and following Hiroki Sugimura. And that was supposed to be an easy kill but…

It was highly likely she’d end up having to take on this machine gun shooter. Not having a gun would be a major disadvantage. Forget about gun against machine gun, it’d be hopeless with a sickle against a machine gun.

Of course, she could have pursued Hiroki, but she thought it’d be too much trouble to get the gun back from him. His background in martial arts or whatever it was was no joke. Her right hand still stung from his blow. And this time, if he saw her, he’d be merciless and shoot her.

So Mitsuko moved west along the longitudinal road and then entered the northern mountain, trying to find someone else. Approximately three hours had passed.

And now she finally heard someone making noise.

Mitsuko made her way through the thicket and moved forward, cautiously though.—She mustn’t be heard.

The thicket ended. There was a small, open, mat-sized space in the middle of the bushes. The grove continued on and beyond her right. And to the left as well—in the corner of the space, a boy in his school coat had his back toward her. He nervously looked to his right and left as the dripping sound against the leaves continued.

He was probably scared he might be attacked by someone. She could tell it was Tadakatsu Hatagami (Male Student No. 18). He was on the baseball team. Nothing exceptional, just an average guy. He was tall and well-built, and his face was average. His hobbies were… actually she had no idea, and besides there was no point asking now.

The crucial thing was that, as Tadakatsu was attending to his business, Mitsuko realized he held something tightly in his right hand.

It was a gun. It was a fairly large model, a revolver. She once again broke into that fallen angel’s grin.

Tadakatsu still wasn’t done. He might have been holding it in for quite a while. He continued to look left and right while he emptied his bladder.

Mitsuko quietly but quickly took out her sickle with her right hand. Tadakatsu would have to use both of his hands to zip up his pants. Even if he tried using one hand, he’d be vulnerable.

It looks like this’ll be the end of you. Didn’t someone in a detective show get killed this way?

The drips became sporadic. It stopped—and then another drip, and then it stopped completely. Tadakatsu once again looked around and then quickly moved his hands to the front.

By then Mitsuko had already snuck up behind him. The back of his head, with short spiked hair, was right in front of her. She raised the sickle.

She heard someone from behind say, “Whoa,” and Tadakatsu suddenly turned around, along with Mitsuko. She (of course) put the sickle down and looked back at the speaker behind her.

It was Yuichiro Takiguchi (Male Student No. 13). He was shorter than Tadakatsu and had a cute, boyish face. He held what appeared to be his weapon, an aluminum bat, in his right hand and stared at Mitsuko, his mouth agape.

Tadakatsu saw Mitsuko and also said, “Whoa,” and then muttered, “Damn,” and pointed the gun at her. Seeing how Yuichiro’s appearance didn’t surprise him, Mitsuko realized they were together. Mitsuko cursed herself. Tadakatsu had left Yuichiro just to take a piss. How stupid could I have been not to check! Come on, you’re both boys, can’t you just pee next to each other?

This wasn’t the time or place to lecture them. Tadakatsu’s revolver (which, although it hardly mattered, was a Smith & Wesson M19 .357 Magnum) was pointed directly at Mitsuko’s chest.

“Tadakatsu! Stop it!” Yuichiro said, his voice trembling, probably from her sudden appearance and his fear of seeing someone get killed in front of his very own eyes. Tadakatsu looked like he was ready to pull the trigger at any moment, but his finger on the trigger stopped a fraction of a millimeter before the hammer fell.

His gun still pointed at Mitsuko, Tadakatsu looked over at Yuichiro.

“Why!? She just tried to kill me! Look! A sickle! She’s holding a sickle!”

“N-no.” Mitsuko croaked as if her words were stuck in her throat. She made sure her voice was high-pitched and trembling, and of course, she didn’t forget to flinch her body back. Once again, the star actress had a chance to show off her talents. Watch me now.

“I-I…”

She thought of dropping the sickle, but decided not to, since it would look more natural holding it.

“I was just trying to call you. Then I-I realized you were peeing, so I…” Mitsuko looked down and made her face blush. “So…”

Tadakatsu didn’t lower the gun. “You’re lying! You were trying to kill me!” His hand holding the gun was trembling. He’d restrained himself from shooting her because he’d never shot someone. The moment he saw her he probably would have fired reflexively, but now that Yuichiro had intervened he had time to think and hesitate. And that meant he would lose.

“Stop it, Tadakatsu,” Yuichiro pleaded with him, “Didn’t I already say how we have to join up with others—”

“You got to be kidding.” Tadakatsu shook his head. “There’s no way I can be with this bitch. Don’t you know who we’re dealing with? She might have been the one… who killed Yumiko and Yukiko.”

“N-no… I would never…” Mitsuko made her eyes brim with tears.

Yuichiro said frantically, “Mitsuko isn’t carrying a machine gun. She doesn’t even have a gun.”

“We can’t know for sure! She might have tossed them once she ran out of bullets!!”

Yuichiro fell silent for a while, but then said, “Tadakatsu, you shouldn’t raise your voice.” His voice sounded different from before. It was calm and kind. Tadakatsu opened his mouth slightly as if he’d been caught off guard.

Mitsuko was also a bit surprised. Yuichiro Takiguchi was into anime. He was the otaku of their class, but now he sounded quite dignified.

Yuichiro shook his head. “You shouldn’t be so indiscriminately suspicious,” he continued as if admonishing Tadakatsu. “Think about it. Mitsuko might have sought you out because she really trusted you.”

“But then…” Tadakatsu knit his brows. His gun was still pointed at Mitsuko, but the tension of his fingers on the trigger seemed to wane. “Then what do you suggest we do?”

“If you insist she can’t be trusted, then we can take turns keeping an eye on her. I mean, even if we were to tell her to leave, you’d still be worried she might attack you later when she has the chance.”

Well, I’ll say, I’m impressed. He’s sharp and articulate. I mean, putting aside whether he’s making a good call (which in fact would be to shoot me now).

Tadakatsu then licked his lips a little.

“Come on. We need more people on our side. And then we have to figure out a way to get out of here. Once we spend some time with her we’ll see whether we can trust her, right?” Yuichiro insisted and finally Tadakatsu nodded, still eyeing her suspiciously.

He said in a tired voice, “Well, all right.”

Making herself look relieved, she let her body unwind. She rubbed her left hand against her eyes deliberately filled with tears. Yuichiro let out a sigh of relief too.

“Get rid of that sickle,” Tadakatsu said, and Mitsuko immediately tossed it to the ground. Then she nervously alternated glances at Tadakatsu and Yuichiro.

Tadakatsu said, “Search her, Yuichiro.” Mitsuko looked back at Tadakatsu, her eyes opened wide as if she didn’t understand. Then she looked at Yuichiro who stood still in astonishment. Tadakatsu repeated himself. He aimed the gun at her. “Hurry up. Don’t be so bashful. This is a matter of life and death. You know that.”

“Okay, all right.” Yuichiro put his bat down and reluctantly came forward. He stood right beside Mitsuko.

“Hurry,” Tadakatsu insisted.

“Uh-huh.”

His dignified manner was gone now. He’d gone back to being his usual weak otaku self.

“But—”

“Hurry!”

Yuichiro said, “U-uh, Mitsuko, I’m really sorry. I really don’t want to do this, but I have to,” and he ran his hands lightly over her body. Even in the dim light at dawn, she could tell his face had turned bright red. How cute. Of course, she didn’t forget to act all embarrassed too.

After he was done searching, he lifted his hands. Tadakatsu said, “Look under her skirt too.”

“Tadakatsu—” Yuichiro protested, but Tadakatsu shook his head.

“I’m not trying to get my rocks off. I just don’t want to die.”

So Yuichiro blushed even more and said, “U-uh, I was wondering, could you lift your skirt up a little?”

Oh my, let’s not have a heart attack here, little boy.

But Mitsuko only answered in a meek voice, “O-okay,” and lifted her skirt bashfully again up to where her underwear was nearly visible. Geez, this was turning into one of those adult videos titled Fetish Special! Starring Real Junior High School Girls!

I’ve actually been in them.

After making sure Mitsuko had nothing to hide, Yuichiro said, “I-I’m done.”

Tadakatsu nodded and said, “All right. Yuichiro, I want you to tie up her hands with your belt.”

Yuichiro gave Tadakatsu another reluctant look, but Tadakatsu refused to give in, aiming his gun at her.

“Those are my conditions. If you can’t accept them, then I’ll shoot her now.”

Yuichiro looked at Mitsuko, then at Tadakatsu, and licked his lips. Then Mitsuko said to Yuichiro, “Yuichiro, go ahead. It’s all right.”

Yuichiro looked at Mitsuko, but then nodded, pulled out his belt, and held Mitsuko’s hands. “I’m sorry, Mitsuko,” he said.

Tadakatsu still pointed his gun at her, and said, “You don’t have to be so polite with her,” but Yuichiro seemed to ignore his warning as he gently wrapped the belt around her wrists without saying another word.

As she innocently offered her hands, Mitsuko was thinking how lucky, in spite of the situation, she was to have been discovered right before lifting her sickle. (She had also wiped the blood off the sickle earlier. Now that’s luck.)

Now then, what’s my next move?

56

“So that’s how I thought we had to seek other classmates,” Yuichiro said and stopped, glancing at Mitsuko. Dawn had already broken, and she could see how his face was grimy with dirt.

They were sitting next to each other in the shrubs. Of course, Mitsuko’s hands were tied up with the belt, and her sickle was tucked in the back of Yuichiro’s pants. Tadakatsu Hatagami was in a deep sleep. He still held onto his gun which—he had in fact tied to his hand with a handkerchief.

After she ended up with this duo, Tadakatsu was the one who insisted on taking turns sleeping.

“I agree we have to find others, but let’s get some sleep. We’ve been up all this time. We’ll lose our ability to make sound judgments.” Once Yuichiro had agreed, Tadakatsu said, “First, it’s going to be Yuichiro or me. Then Mitsuko can sleep after us,” and Yuichiro responded, “I can sleep later,” so the order was decided.

Holding his gun (it should have been handed over to Yuichiro who was keeping watch, but Tadakatsu didn’t even mention it, nor did Yuichiro protest), Tadakatsu lay down and fell asleep within a matter of seconds.

Mitsuko had an idea how they hooked up. Tadakatsu hadn’t slept at all until he met Yuichiro, and he probably couldn’t sleep after joining him. Why? Because he was probably afraid Yuichiro might attack him by surprise. And even though Mitsuko might be much more threatening than Yuichiro, now that she was with them, even if Tadakatsu slept, Mitsuko and Yuichiro would have to keep an eye on each other so long as he held onto his gun and remained cautious. He could still get some sleep. (Of course, Mitsuko hadn’t slept at all either, but it was nothing to her. She was much tougher than your average wimpy junior high school kid.)

Yuichiro and Mitsuko remained silent for a while, but then Yuichiro told her how he’d ended up joining Tadakatsu.

It turned out that Yuichiro also didn’t move at all during the day, but then assuming he was safer at night (of course, Mitsuko thought, it could go either way. You could escape detection at night, but that also meant it was hard to detect your opponent too. But of course, if you were in a tight spot and had to run away, night was better), he cautiously began to move and encountered Tadakatsu only two hours before Mitsuko encountered them. The two tried to concoct an escape plan but came up with nothing… and so Tadakatsu stepped out to pee, but because he was taking so long Yuichiro got worried and checked on him. And that was how he found Mitsuko.

“I was so scared at first, I thought I couldn’t trust anybody. But then I realized most of us probably just want to escape.”

Yuichiro stopped and glanced at Mitsuko. The otaku of Class B, Yuichiro Takiguchi avoided direct eye contact in his conversations. He always looked down. Still, from the way he talked to her, Yuichiro didn’t seem to be all that cautious towards her. For some reason.

And so Mitsuko pretended to look somewhat relieved and asked him, “So Tadakatsu had that gun.”

Yuichiro nodded. “Yeah.”

“Weren’t you scared of Tadakatsu?” Okay, now act even more relaxed and a little more intimate. “No, I mean even now. He won’t let go of it.”

Yuichiro grinned. “Well, first of all, Tadakatsu didn’t shoot at me or anything. He did point his gun at me. I was classmates with him in elementary school. So I know him pretty well.”

“But…” Mitsuko made her face look slightly pale. “You saw how Yumi—Yumiko Kusaka and Yukiko Kitano died. Some of us are playing this game. How can you be sure Tadakatsu isn’t one of them?” She nodded and then said, “He even suspects me.”

Yuichiro tightened his lips and nodded several times. “That’s true. But if we just sit still we’ll end up dying. It’s best to try. I can’t be like Yumiko and Yukiko, but I was thinking how we could get others to join us gradually.”

He glanced into Mitsuko’s eyes for a moment and then looked down. He seemed even more withdrawn than usual, maybe because he wasn’t used to looking at a girl’s face so close up. (She was probably right on the mark, and on top of that, he was dealing with the most beautiful girl in the class.)

“You can’t blame Tadakatsu for holding onto that gun. He’s scared out of his wits.”

Mitsuko tilted her head and forced a smile. “You’re so good.”

Yuichiro glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

Still wearing her smile, Mitsuko continued, “You have to be brave to be like that, to be able to empathize with others like that.”

Yuichiro looked down bashfully again and nervously ran his right hand through his messy hair and said, “I don’t think so.” Then without looking at her, he said, “So… could you cut him some slack for suspecting you? I think he’s really scared. He trusts no one.”

Trust no one. The phrase really tickled her and she grinned.

Then she said as if sighing, “I guess he can’t help it. I have a reputation. You probably don’t trust me either.”

Yuichiro paused and then turned to Mitsuko. This time he looked at her a little longer. Then he said, “No.” He looked down at the ground after saying this, and continued, “Well, I mean, I’m even suspicious of Tadakatsu when it comes down to it. I mean…” He pulled out some grass by his feet. Then he tore the grass that was moist with morning dew into small strands. “I mean, yeah, I haven’t heard great things about you. But that’s so irrelevant in this situation. I mean, sometimes it’s the respectable ones who end up breaking up under stress.” He tossed the torn grass by his feet. Then he looked up at Mitsuko. “I don’t think you’re such a bad person.”

Mitsuko tilted her head. “Why?”

Maybe it was because she was staring at her, Yuichiro nervously looked away again. Then he said, “Well… it’s your eyes.”

“Eyes?”

Still looking down, Yuichiro began tearing out more grass. “You always had a scary look in your eyes.”

Mitsuko forced a smile. She tried to shrug her shoulders, but it didn’t work because of the belt around her wrists. “I guess.”

“But…” The grass was torn into quarters, then eighths. “But sometimes your eyes look really sad and kind.”

Mitsuko stared at the side of his face and listened without responding.

“So,” he tossed the grass again and continued, “I’ve always thought you weren’t as bad as everyone said you were. Even if you’d done bad things, I was pretty sure you did them because you couldn’t help it, because there was some reason behind it that wasn’t your fault.”

He was stuttering, his voice incredibly shy and tense as if he were confessing his love to a girl. Then he added, “I just don’t want to be so foolish I couldn’t understand that reason.”

Mitsuko sighed inside. Of course, she was thinking, boy, you are naïve, Yuichiro. But then she smiled and said warmly, “Thank you.” Even she was surprised by the kindness in her voice. Of course, it was deliberate, but maybe the reason it sounded too real to be an act was that there was a little bit of true feeling in her words.

But only a little.

Yuichiro then asked, “What about you, Mitsuko? What were you doing till now?”

Mitsuko replied, “Well…” She moved a little and felt the morning dew on the grass soaking through her skirt. “I’ve been running away. You know, away from the gunfire. That’s wh—that’s why when I saw Tadakatsu I was so scared… but I was also so tired and scared of being alone and I thought of calling out to him. I thought maybe he’d understand… but I just couldn’t tell whether it was the right thing to do or not. I just didn’t know…”

Yuichiro nodded again. He glanced at her again and looked down. “I think you did the right thing.”

Mitsuko smiled and said, “I think so too.” Their eyes met and they smiled at each other.

“That’s right,” Yuichiro said, “I’m sorry. I forgot. You must be thirsty. You lost your bag, right? You probably haven’t had any water in a while.”

She had left her day pack behind when she fought Hiroki Sugimura. She was actually pretty thirsty. She nodded. “Could I… could I have some water?”

Looking away from her, Yuichiro nodded back, reached out for the day pack and picked it up. He pulled out two water bottles and after comparing them he chose the sealed bottle and tucked away the other one. He broke the seal off the new bottle.

Mitsuko put up her belt-bound hands. Yuichiro was about to hand over the bottle to her… but then stopped. He glanced over at Tadakatsu who still seemed sound sleep, then looked down at the plastic bottle in his hand.

Then he put the bottle down by his leg.

Hey there, aren’t you going to let me have a drink? You decided not to spoil the prisoner because that might upset tough Sergeant Hatagami?

Yuichiro took her hands without a word instead, had her raise them, and fingered the belt around her wrists. He began to unfasten it.

“Yuichiro,” Mitsuko said as if surprised (which in fact she was), “Are you sure this is okay? Tadakatsu will be really mad.”

Concentrating on her wrists, Yuichiro answered, “It’s all right. I have your weapon. Besides, how can you drink with your hands bound like that?” Yuichiro glanced up at Mitsuko again.

She smiled warmly and said, “Thank you,” making her cheeks blush as she looked down.

The belt came loose. Mitsuko rubbed each of her wrists. Because the belt wasn’t tight they were fine.

Yuichiro offered his bottle to Mitsuko. Mitsuko grabbed it and took two brief, delicate sips. She returned the bottle.

“That’s all?” he asked and stopped wrapping his belt around his waist. “You can drink more. If we run out, we can always get more from some house with a well.”

Mitsuko shook her head. “Oh no, I’m fine.”

“Okay.”

Yuichiro took the bottle. After he stuffed it into his day pack, he buckled his belt around his waist.

Mitsuko said to Yuichiro, “Yuichiro.” He looked up.

Mitsuko quickly reached out her free hands and gently held his right hand. Yuichiro appeared to tense up, not because he suspected her of some ulterior motive, but more simply because a girl was holding his hand.

“W-what?”

Mitsuko smiled warmly. She opened her nicely shaped lips and gently spoke, “I’m so glad I’m with someone like you. I was so scared I’ve been shaking all this time… but now I’m safe.”

Yuichiro seemed to break into a grin. His tense mouth quivered and he finally managed to blurt out, “You’re safe.” It seemed like he wanted to take his right hand back, but Mitsuko refused to let go, clutching onto it. Yuichiro had a hard time speaking and his voice sounded nervous, but then he managed to utter, “I’ll protect you, Mitsuko.”

He added, “We have Tadakatsu too. He’s pretty worked up right now, but once he calms down, he’ll see you couldn’t possibly be our enemy. Then the three of us can work on finding the rest of the class. Then we’ll come up with some way of escaping.”

Mitsuko gave a warm smile. “Thank you. I’m so relieved.”

She squeezed her grip on Yuichiro’s hand. Yuichiro blushed even more and glanced away again. He said, “U-uh, Mitsuko. Y-you know, you’re really p-pretty.”

Mitsuko raised her brow. “No. Really?”

Yuichiro nodded repeatedly. Rather than nodding, he seemed to be trembling from the unbearable tension. This made Mitsuko smile and she realized this smile had no ulterior motive.

Well, almost none.

57

Sakamochi’s 6 a.m. announcement woke up Tadakatsu. He hadn’t even slept two hours, but insisted it was enough and untied the handkerchief from his wrist to get a good grip on the gun. Then he sat by Mitsuko and Yuichiro. Yuichiro insisted on her sleeping before him, but Mitsuko abstained, so Yuichiro ended up lying down. (By this time, they had learned that four students—Keita Iijima, Toshinori Oda,

Yutaka Seto, and Shinji Mimura—had recently died. The new forbidden zones were not in their vicinity.)

Tadakatsu was dismayed to find out the belt on Mitsuko’s wrists had been unfastened, but Yuichiro managed to convince him it would be okay. Of course, even if Yuichiro hadn’t unfastened the belt,

Mitsuko had plans to have it unfastened anyway… using Tadakatsu.

Now then.

She couldn’t really afford to take her time. If Hiroki Sugimura showed up he’d completely blow her cover. (She wondered, what is he doing wandering around like that anyway? Is he, like Yuichiro and Tadakatsu, trying to find others to hook up with?) And there was that machine gun shooter.

Although Yuichiro had said to Mitsuko with a smile, “I might not be able to sleep,” he went out like a light in five minutes. Given how he was an otaku boy, he couldn’t have much stamina. He must be tired. Unlike Tadakatsu who snored, Yuichiro fell into the hushed deep sleep of a little baby.

Tadakatsu kept a good distance of three meters on her left, sitting against a tree. He had short, cropped hair and light acne above his cheekbones. And the eyes above them were cautiously watching Mitsuko. The revolver in his right hand was no longer pointed at her, but his finger was definitely on the trigger, as if to indicate he could shoot her at any moment.

Mitsuko waited another half hour… and then after making sure Yuichiro, whose back faced them, was still asleep, she turned to Tadakatsu and quietly said, “You don’t have to look at me like that. I’m harmless.”

Tadakatsu grimaced. “You never know.”

As if responding to Tadakatsu’s retort, Yuichiro’s body stirred a little. For a while Mitsuko and Tadakatsu looked at Yuichiro’s back. His deep breathing resumed, though.

Without looking over at Tadakatsu, Mitsuko took a deep breath to indicate her fatigue. Then she moved her legs, putting her right knee down on the ground and bringing her left knee up.

Her pleated skirt smoothly slid down, revealing most of her white thighs, but Mitsuko just looked around, pretending not to notice.

She could tell Tadakatsu had tensed up. Ha. Maybe you can see my panties? They’re hot pink silk.

Mitsuko stayed in this position. Then she slowly looked over at Tadakatsu.

Tadakatsu nervously looked up. Of course, until then his eyes had been glued to her thighs.

But Mitsuko still acted as if she were clueless and said, “Hey, Tadakatsu.”

“What?”

Tadakatsu seemed to be doing his best to maintain his intimidating stance, but now there was a slight tremble in his voice.

“I am so scared.”

She thought Tadakatsu would say something nasty again, but he didn’t respond and only stared at her.

“Aren’t you scared?”

Tadakatsu’s brow moved a little, but then he said, “Of course, I am. That’s why I’m being so careful with you.”

Mitsuko looked sadly away from Tadakatsu. “So you still won’t trust me.”

“Don’t hold it against me,” Tadakatsu said, but his tone of voice wasn’t even half as hostile as it had been. “I know I’m repeating myself, but I just don’t want to die.”

Mitsuko quickly looked back at Tadakatsu. She said a little emphatically, “I’m in the same boat too. I don’t want to die. But if you don’t trust me, then we’ll never be able to cooperate and find a way to save ourselves.”

“Uh, well—” Tadakatsu nodded as if relenting. “Well… I know that but…”

Mitsuko smiled warmly. She looked into her opponent’s eyes and her well-formed, red lips smiled___It was different from the one she wore during her somewhat idyllic conversation with Yuichiro. This one was Mitsuko Souma’s special fallen angel’s smile. Tadakatsu’s eyes were glazed, seduced.

“Hey, Tadakatsu,” she continued as she returned to her terrified-girl face. This constant switch between expressions, the virgin and the whore, day and night. Wow. Sounds like a movie title.

“W-what?”

“I know I keep on saying this, but I’m just so scared.”

“U-uh huh.”

“So?” She looked at him directly again.

“So?” Any trace of antagonism and suspicion was now gone from Tadakatsu’s voice and face.

Mitsuko tilted her head slightly and asked, “Can we talk a little?”

“Talk?” He knit his brows. “Aren’t we doing that right now?”

Mitsuko hissed, “Don’t be stupid. Do I have to spell it out?” Her eyes glued on Tadakatsu, she pointed her chin at Yuichiro. “Not here, okay? I want to talk to you, but not with Yuichiro here.”

His mouth slightly open, Tadakatsu gazed over at Yuichiro and then looked back at Mitsuko.

“Okay?” Mitsuko said. She got up, looked around, and decided the thicket behind Tadakatsu would be best. She walked over to Tadakatsu, tilted her head slightly, and then proceeded forward. She wasn’t sure whether he would take the bait… but then after a while she could tell he was nibbling.

Mitsuko stopped approximately twenty meters away from where Yuichiro slept. Just like the previous area, it was a small opening surrounded by bushes.

When she turned around, Tadakatsu appeared, wading through the thicket. His eyes were glazed. But maybe it was subconscious. He still kept a tight grip on his gun.

Mitsuko immediately pulled down the side zipper of her skirt. Her pleated skirt fell to the ground, exposing her thighs in the dull morning light. She could tell he was holding his breath.

Then she removed her scarf and undressed. Unlike the other girls she’d never be so square as to wear an undershirt, so she only had her underwear on now. Oh right, she had to take off her shoes. After she took them off, she stared at Tadakatsu with her fallen angel’s smile.

“M-Mitsuko,” Tadakatsu barely managed to utter.

Mitsuko decided to make sure. “I’m so scared, Tadakatsu. So…”

Tadakatsu awkwardly approached Mitsuko.

Mitsuko looked down at his right hand, pretending to suddenly notice the gun, and said, “Put that thing somewhere else.”

Tadakatsu lifted his hand, as if he suddenly became aware of its existence, and gazed at it. Then he put it down, away from them.

He approached her again.

Mitsuko gave a nice smile, spread out her arms, and wrapped her hands around his neck. His body trembled but the moment Mitsuko offered her lips, he immediately began sucking on them. Mitsuko received him by breathing heavily.

After a while their lips separated.

Mitsuko looked up at Tadakatsu’s eyes and said, “This is your first time, huh?”

“So what?” Tadakatsu said, his voice trembling.

They fell down on the grass, Mitsuko underneath.

Tadakatsu immediately went for her breasts.

You idiot, you’re supposed to make out for a while before you do that, Mitsuko thought. Instead she moaned, “Ahh…” Tadakatsu’s rough hands slipped off her bra and clutched at her well-endowed breasts, now exposed. Then his face went down there.

“Ahh… ahh…”

She continued pretending to be turned on (in exaggerated porn-video style), but meanwhile her right hand was reaching down to her panties.

Her fingertips touched a hard, thin object.

Gang girls probably didn’t use such cheap, clunky weapons anymore. But it’d been Mitsuko’s weapon of choice for a long time now. The most useful weapon right now for her was in fact something she could hide in her panties.

Tadakatsu was preoccupied with kissing Mitsuko’s breasts. His left hand reached between her legs. Mitsuko then let out a moan… but Tadakatsu’s eyes were concentrating on her breasts. His scalp was exposed.

Mitsuko slowly moved her right hand near his neck.

Sorry, Tadakatsu. But at least you get to go out with a nice memory, so you can forgive me, right? Too bad we won’t go all the way, though.

Mitsuko’s right ring finger gently touched Tadakatsu’s neck. The object was between her index and middle finger.

Kaw kaw, a bird cried, unfortunately, to her right.

Tadakatsu raised his head reflexively and glanced over in that direction.

It was only the sound of a bird crying. What really made Tadakatsu’s eyes open wide was of course the razor blade in Mitsuko’s hand right in front of his face.

Damn it!

How bad can my timing be? The thought sort of crossed her mind, but Mitsuko didn’t care as she automatically swung the blade.

He groaned and pulled away from Mitsuko. The blade skimmed his neck, but the cut was way too shallow to be fatal. My oh my, good reflexes. That’s right, you’re a baseball jock.

Tadakatsu stood up, his eyes open wide, staring down at Mitsuko, her body half raised. He appeared to be on the verge of saying something but seemed at a loss for words.

She could care less about Tadakatsu’s state. She leaped up and made a dash for the revolver immediately to her right.

But Tadakatsu’s body flew in front of her in a head-first slide. He scooped the gun from the ground, rolled over, and got up on his knees. Ever since elementary school Tadakatsu played the shortstop position formerly occupied by Shuya Nanahara (even though she and Shuya went to different schools Shuya’s reputation as a star player in Little League was so widespread even Mitsuko had heard of him), so his reflexes served him well. The Shiroiwa Junior High School baseball team is in good hands, huh? Well, at least you didn’t take off your pants. You would have looked pretty pathetic naked.

Once Mitsuko realized Tadakatsu would get the gun before she did, she changed course. She heard gunshots behind her, but they missed as she ran into the thicket.

She could hear Tadakatsu chasing her. He would catch up. That was for sure.

She got out of the thicket. There was Yuichiro Takiguchi. He looked like he’d heard the gunfire, got up, and then realizing Mitsuko and Tadakatsu were gone, was looking around, but the moment his eyes found her, they opened wide. (Of course. She was half naked. What a bonus! Mitsuko Souma’s One Night Show. Oh wait, but it’s morning.)

“Yuichiro!” Mitsuko raised her voice and ran towards Yuichiro. She didn’t forget to crumple up her face.

“W-what happened, Mitsuko?”

By the time Tadakatsu Hatagami made his way through the bushes, Mitsuko was behind Yuichiro’s back. Because Yuichiro was only four or five centimeters taller than her, she couldn’t really hide behind him, but oh well.

“Yuichiro!” Tadakatsu stopped and held his gun, groaning. “Get out of my way!”

“H-hold on.” His face still drowsy, Yuichiro spoke quickly perhaps because he didn’t fully grasp the situation. Mitsuko grabbed his shoulders from behind and pressed her half naked body against his back.

Yuichiro said, “What is wrong with you?”

“Mitsuko tried to kill me! I told you, man!”

Still hiding behind Yuichiro, Mitsuko said in a feeble voice, “Th-that’s not true. Tadakatsu tried to force me to—he threatened me with that gun. Please, help me, Yuichiro!”

Tadakatsu’s face contorted in dismay. “I-it’s not true, Yuichiro! Th-that’s right. Look!” Tadakatsu pointed at his neck with the fingers of his empty left hand. The narrow cut had a slight blood stain. “She went at me with a razor blade!”

Yuichiro turned around and looked at Mitsuko out of the corner of his eye. Mitsuko shook her head as cutely as possible, as if terrified. Now she was playing the virgin again.

“I was so desperate, I had to use my nails on him. Then… Tadakatsu got mad. He tried to shoot me…”

She had already gotten rid of the razor blade in the shrubs. Even if she were forced to take off all her clothes (she was nearly naked anyway now) for a body search, they’d find no evidence.

Now Tadakatsu’s face flushed red with anger.

“Move, Yuichiro!” he shouted. “I’m shooting her!”

“Hold on,” Yuichiro said, trying his best to sound calm, “I-I can’t tell who’s telling the truth.”

“What!?” Tadakatsu raised his voice, but Yuichiro wasn’t intimidated. He reached out his right hand to Tadakatsu.

“Give me your gun. Then we’ll see who’s telling the truth.”

Tadakatsu’s face contorted as if he were on the verge of crying out of misery. And wearing this face he screamed at Yuichiro, “We can’t afford to take our time here! You’re going to get killed too if we don’t get rid of her now!”

Mitsuko cried out, “That’s awful. I would never do that. Help me, Yuichiro.” She squeezed his shoulders tightly.

Yuichiro patiently extended his hand. “Give it to me, Tadakatsu if you’re telling the truth.”

Tadakatsu grimaced again.

But eventually, after taking a long, deep breath, letting his shoulders down, he exhaled and lowered his gun. He put his finger on the trigger guard, flipped the gun grip forward, and offered it to Yuichiro as if he had no choice.

Of course she still wore her weepy face… but there was a faint glimmer in her eyes. The key moment would be when the gun was in Yuichiro’s hands. It should be easy to take away from him. The question was how.

Yuichiro nodded and came forward.

But then…

It was a move that was almost identical to the one Hiroki Sugimura had made with the Colt Government against her. Like a magic trick, the gun flipped over in his hand. Simultaneously, Tadakatsu got down on his right knee and leaned sideways. The gun was pointed directly at Mitsuko, its line of fire passing right by Yuichiro’s left shoulder. Now that she wasn’t clinging to Yuichiro’s back Mitsuko was completely exposed.

Yuichiro followed the gun’s target and quickly looked back at Mitsuko.

Mitsuko’s eyes opened wide.

I’m dead now—

Without hesitating, Tadakatsu pulled the trigger.

Gunfire. Two shots.

Yuichiro’s body fell down slowly as if in slow motion right in front of her.

Beyond it was the frightened face of Tadakatsu.

By then Mitsuko had picked up the sickle Yuichiro had beside him when he went to sleep.

She threw it. It spun through the air. Its banana-shaped blade lodged into Tadakatsu’s right shoulder. He groaned and dropped his gun.

Mitsuko didn’t waste a single moment. She picked up the bat and dashed forward. She leapt over Yuichiro, who was lying face down, ran towards Tadakatsu, and with this forward momentum took a full swing at his head as he staggered, clutching his right shoulder.

Hey there. Here’s something familiar, a bat. Hope you like it.

Thud. The end of the bat landed in the center of his face. She’d crushed in his nose cartilage and cheekbones, tearing out several of his teeth.

Tadakatsu fainted. Mitsuko swung at his forehead. KRAK! His forehead caved in. His eyes bulged out and his hands balled up into fists. One more swing, this time she aimed at the bridge of his nose. Mitsuko Souma’s Special Training for One Thousand Catches. Come on, come on, this next one’s going into center field.

Blood burst out of Tadakatsu’s nostrils with this blow.

Mitsuko put the bat down. Tadakatsu’s entire face was immersed in blood. He was dead by now. Thick streams of blood came dripping out of his ears and his deformed nose.

Mitsuko tossed the bat and picked up the pistol lying to her left.

Then she walked over to Yuichiro who was lying down on his face.

The bloodstain spread all over the grass underneath.

He had shielded Mitsuko. That one instant.

Mitsuko slowly knelt down by Yuichiro. She could tell he was still breathing as she bent over.

After some consideration, Mitsuko moved over to block Yuichiro’s view of Tadakatsu’s corpse. Then she grabbed his shoulder to turn him over.

Yuichiro moaned, “Urgh,” and opened his eyes in a daze. His school coat had two holes, one in the left chest and the other in his side. Blood came pouring out, absorbed by the black fabric. Mitsuko held Yuichiro up.

His eyes wandered around for a while. Then he looked at Mitsuko. His short breaths came intermittently, matching his heartbeat. “M-Mitsuko…” he said, “wh-what about Tadakatsu?”

Mitsuko shook her head. “He panicked after he shot you and just ran away.”

Tadakatsu had tried to kill Mitsuko so this explanation didn’t make much sense. But maybe he couldn’t think much anymore. Yuichiro seemed to nod slightly.

“R-really…” His eyes seemed out of focus. He might only have a partial image of Mitsuko now. “Y-you didn’t get hurt, I hope?”

“I’m fine.” She nodded. And then said, “You saved me.”

Yuichiro seemed to form a slight grin. “I-I’m so sorry. I-I don’t think I can protect you anymore. I-I can’t m-m-move…”

Foams of blood came bursting out the sides of his mouth. His lungs must have been punctured.

“I know.” She leaned over and gently hugged his body. Mitsuko’s long black hair fell onto his chest, its ends stained by the blood pouring out of his wounds. Before she pressed her lips against his, Yuichiro’s eyes moved slightly but then they shut.

This kiss was different from the whore’s kiss she gave to Tadakatsu moments ago. It was soft, warm, and kind even though it might have been mixed with the taste of blood.

Their lips parted. Yuichiro opened his eyes again in a semi-daze.

“I-I’m sorry…” he said, “it looks like…”

Mitsuko smiled. “I know.”

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! With these dull gunshots Yuichiro’s eyes opened wide.

Staring up at Mitsuko’s face, and probably having no idea what had just happened, Yuichiro Takiguchi was now dead.

Mitsuko slowly removed the smoking revolver from Yuichiro’s stomach and held Yuichiro’s body again. She looked into his now vacant eyes.

“You were pretty cool. You even made me a little happy. I won’t forget you.”

She closed her eyes. Almost remorsefully, she once again gently pressed her lips against Yuichiro’s. His lips were still warm.

The sunlight was finally shining on the western slope of the northern mountain. Under Mitsuko’s head, blocking this light, Yuichiro’s pupils dilated rapidly.

58

Shuya Nanahara (Male Student No. 15) suddenly woke up.

He saw the blue sky framed by brilliant green grass. He got up. Beyond the grass surrounding him, there was the familiar sight of Shiroiwa Junior High School in the pleasant sunlight. Several students were on the school field in their gym gear. Maybe they were playing Softball for gym class. He could hear their cheering.

He was in the garden at the edge of the courtyard. He saw the large leaves of the phoenix tree looming above him. This was where he took a nap sometimes, either during lunch or when he cut class.

He stood up and checked his body.

He had no wounds at all. Flakes of grass were stuck to his coat. He brushed them off.

A dream…

Shuya shook his head, still in a daze. Then he knew for certain.

It was all a dream. All of it.

He wiped his neck with his hand. It was moist with sweat. He was drenched in sweat as if he’d had a nightmare.

What a horrible dream! Killing game? We were selected for that “Program”!

Then he realized. The ones in the field? Gym class?

He checked his watch. Afternoon classes had started. He’d overslept!

He quickly left the garden and trotted over to the school building. Today. Today was… he checked his watch while running and saw it was Thursday.

The first Thursday afternoon period was literature. He felt relieved. He liked literature, and he did pretty well in that class. Plus his teacher, Kazuko Okazaki, liked him. So all he’d have to do is bow apologetically.

Literature. Favorite subject. Grades. Ms. Okazaki.

These words passing through his mind triggered a nostalgic feeling.

Shuya really did like literature. Even if the stories and essays in the textbooks were inundated with slogans in praise of the Republic or some silly “ideology,” Shuya managed to discover words he liked. Words were just as important to him as music. Because rock couldn’t do without lyrics.

Speaking of words, the top student in literature, Noriko Nakagawa, wrote beautiful poetry. Compared to the song lyrics he struggled to come up with, her words were so much more concise and brilliant… they could be open and gentle on the one hand and harsh and strong on the other. He thought they represented the nature of girls in general. Sure, Yoshitoki Kuninobu had a crush on Noriko, but what really struck Shuya was this part of her.

Which made Shuya realize, oh, that means Yoshitoki is alive. Realizing how silly the whole ordeal was, he was about to cry from relief as he trotted over. How silly. I can’t believe I could dream of Yoshitoki dying.

And how did I end up with Noriko? Hey wait, since when did I stop calling her “Noriko-san”? How presumptuous I was in that stupid dream, he thought. They were linked together in the dream. So does that mean I have some feelings for her beyond admiring her poetry? Uh oh, that means I’ll end up fighting with Yoshitoki. That’s trouble.

Still, this idle thought made him grin.

Shuya entered the school building, now hushed because classes were in session. He ran up the stairs. Third Year Class B was on the third floor. He skipped every other step.

He reached the third floor and turned right into the hall. The second classroom was Class B.

Shuya stopped by the door for a moment, trying to come up with an excuse for Ms. Okazaki. He was feeling sick—no, he had a dizzy spell. So he had to lie down and rest. Would she believe him, given how he was always in perfect health? Yoshitoki would give an exaggerated shrug, and someone like Yutaka Seto would say something like, “I bet you were sleeping,” Shinji Mimura would snicker, and Hiroki Sugimura, his arms folded, would look mildly amused. Noriko would smile at Shuya as he scratched his head. All right, that’s what I’ll go with. So what if it’s embarrassing?

Shuya put his hand on the door, made himself look as apologetic as possible, and gently slid it open.

Right before he looked up from the formal posture he assumed, a stench assaulted him.

He looked up. He slid the door open with all his might.

The first thing he saw was someone lying by the lectern.

Ms. Okazaki.

It wasn’t Ms. Okazaki. It was their head instructor, Masao Hayashida. And his head was missing. There was a puddle where it was supposed to be. Only half of his eyeglass frames were lying beside him.

Shuya tore his eyes off of Mr. Hayashida’s corpse and examined the rest of the class.

There were desks and chairs lined up as usual.

The strange thing was that his familiar classmates were all sprawled over their desks.

The floor was covered with blood. An intense stench wafted up.

After standing still for a moment, he quickly reached out for Mayumi Tendo… and realized that an antenna-like silver arrow was planted in her back. Its tip was poking out of her stomach while blood dripped down and off her skirt onto the floor.

Shuya moved forward. He shook Kazushi Niida’s body. Kazushi’s body tilted with a jerk, revealing its face.

Shuya felt a chill run up his spine. Kazushi’s eyes were now two dark-red holes. Blood and a slimy egg-white-like substance oozed out of them. Then there was a gimlet-like object with a thick handle stabbed into his mouth.

Shuya screamed and ran to Yoshitoki Kuninobu’s seat. There were three holes in his back, each one blooming with flowers of blood. As he held him up, Yoshitoki’s head slumped over onto his shoulder. His bulging eyes gazed up at the ceiling.

Yoshitoki!

Shuya raised his voice. Then he looked around frantically.

Everyone was either slouched back in their chairs or lying on the floor.

Megumi Eto’s throat was slashed like sliced watermelon. A sickle was planted in Yoji Kuramoto’s head. Sakura Ogawa’s head was split open like an overripe fruit. Only half of Yoshimi Yahagi’s head existed. An axe was planted in Tatsumichi Oki’s head, his face cracked down the middle, left and right out of alignment like a split peanut. Kyoichi Motobuchi’s stomach looked like a sausage-factory trash bin. Tadakatsu Hatagami’s face was completely crushed and covered in blood. Hirono Shimizu’s face was swollen black, and her sea-slug-sized tongue dangled out from the side of her wide open mouth. The body of The Third Man, Shinji Mimura, was covered with bullets.

Basically, everyone was dead.

Something caught Shuya’s eye. Shogo Kawada—that standoffish transfer student with the bad reputation—had deep stab wounds all over his chest. His eyes were half-open and looking down at the floor. They were out of focus.

Shuya took a deep breath and looked over at Noriko Nakagawa’s seat. It was right behind Yoshitoki’s, so he could have noticed earlier. For some reason though, it felt as if his classmates’ seats were swirling around with the corpses. He finally managed to locate Noriko.

She was still sprawled on top of her desk.

Shuya ran to her and held her up.

THUD. Her head fell off. Leaving behind her body, it landed with a thud on the floor and rolled around in a pool of blood, and then looked up at Shuya. With eyes full of resentment. I thought you said you would save me, Shuya. But I ended up dying. I really loved you, too. I really did.

His eyes glued to Noriko’s face, Shuya held his head and opened his mouth. He felt he was going crazy.

He could tell a scream was welling up inside.

Suddenly, he saw something white.

As he became physically aware that his body was in fact horizontal, his vision came into focus, and Shuya finally realized it was the ceiling. On the left side he saw a fluorescent light.

Someone gently touched his chest.

He realized how heavy he was breathing. His eyes followed the hand up to the arm, the arm up to the shoulder, and finally discerned a sailor-suit figure with braided hair—female class representative Yukie Utsumi (Female Student No. 2), smiling warmly.

“Looks like you’re up. What a relief,” she said.

59

Shuya tried getting up, but the pain all over his body immediately assaulted him, and he fell back. He realized then he was lying on a soft bed with fresh sheets.

Yukie gently touched Shuya’s chest again, then lifted the puffy blanket up to his neck. “Don’t exert yourself. You’re injured pretty badly. You seemed to be having a bad nightmare. Do you feel okay?”

Shuya wasn’t able to respond coherently. Instead he surveyed the room. It was small. There was cheap fabric wallpaper on the left wall, and on the right behind Yukie was another bed, but besides that there wasn’t much else. There was a door near the foot of the bed, but it was closed. The wooden frame gave it an old look. There seemed to be a window above his head letting in a dull light which illuminated the room. Given how dull the light was it seemed cloudy outside. But where was he?

“I don’t get it,” Shuya said. He realized he could speak now. “I don’t remember checking into a hotel with the student representative.”

He was still in a half daze, but Yukie gave a sigh of relief. Then her full lips erupted into a soft chuckle. “You would say that, wouldn’t you? I’m so relieved you’re all right though.” Looking at Shuya, she added, “You were out for quite some time. Let see… it’s been,” she looked down at her watch on her left wrist, “about thirteen hours.”

Thirteen hours? Thirteen hours. Thirteen hours ago I was—

Shuya’s eyes opened wide. His memory and the present locked in. He was fully awake now.

There was something he needed to find out. Right away.

“What about Noriko, Noriko Nakagawa? And Shogo Kawada?”

Shuya said this and took a deep breath. Were they still alive?

Yukie gave him a funny look and then said, “I think Noriko… and Shogo are still alive. We just heard the afternoon announcement but their names weren’t announced.”

Shuya let out a deep breath. Noriko and Shogo had managed to escape. Kazuo had chased after him and ended up losing Noriko and Shogo. Kazuo was—

Shuya then looked up at Yukie.

“Kazuo. It’s Kazuo!” His voice was half panicking. “Where are we? Are you alone here? We have to be careful!”

Yukie gently touched Shuya’s right hand, which was sticking out from under his blanket. “Calm down.” Then she asked, “Did Kazuo do this to you?”

Shuya nodded. “He’s the one who’s been attacking us. He’s totally up for this.”

“Really.” Yukie nodded and continued, “We’re safe here. They’re six of us here, not including you. Everyone else is keeping watch, so don’t worry. They’re all close friends of mine.”

Shuya raised his brow. Six?

“Who?”

“Yuka Nakagawa,” Yukie mentioned the cheery girl who had the same last name as Noriko. Then she continued, “Satomi Noda and Chisato Matsui. Haruka Tanizawa. And Yuko Sakaki.”

Shuya licked his lips. Yukie saw the expression on his face and asked, “What? You can’t trust them? Which one? Everyone?”

“No…” Shuya shook his head. “If they’re your friends I trust them.”

But how did six girls, all good friends with each other, manage to get together?

Yukie smiled and squeezed his hand. “Good. I’m glad to hear that from you, Shuya.”

Shuya smiled too. But his smile receded almost instantly. There were other things he had to know. He’d already missed three—the midnight, 6 a.m., and noon announcements.

“Who… died?” he asked. “I-I mean, at midnight, 6 a.m., and noon, there were three announcements, right? Did anyone else die?”

Yukie’s mouth stiffened. She took some paper from the small side table right beside them. It was a map and student list. The folds and mud stains looked familiar. He realized it was the one he’d kept in his school coat pocket.

Yukie looked over the list and said, “Hirono Shimizu. And then Keita Iijima, Toshinori Oda, Yutaka Seto, Yuichiro Takiguchi, Tadakatsu Hatagami, and Shinji Mimura.”

Shuya’s mouth hung open. Of course the game had proceeded, but he was shocked it now left only little more than a dozen students. Plus he’d been teammates with Tadakatsu Hatagami in Little League, but what really took him by surprise was…

“Shinji’s…”

The Third Man, Shinji Mimura, had died. It was hard to believe. He thought if anyone could survive it would have been Shinji.

Yukie nodded silently.

At the same time Shuya was struck by how he wasn’t all that shaken up. He’d gotten used to it. That must have been it. Still, he remembered Shinji’s special grin. Then he recalled that serious expression Shinji wore as he sent him a signal, warning him to calm down when they were back in the school building.

So we’re never going to see the awesome play of The Third Man, Shiroiwa Junior High’s star shooting guard, again, he thought, and felt a pang of sorrow.

“When was Shinji’s name announced?”

“In the morning,” Yukie answered. “Keita Iijima and Yutaka Seto were also in the morning. They might have been together. They were such good friends.”

“I see”

Shinji had still been alive at midnight. And as Yukie said, he might have been with Yutaka Seto and Keita Iijima.

Yukie added, “There was an incredible explosion last night. And a lot of gunfire. That’s where it might have come from.”

“Explosion?”

Shuya recalled the hand grenade Kazuo threw at them. “That was—Kazuo actually used a hand grenade. Maybe that’s what you heard.”

Yukie raised her brow. “So that’s what that was. That was a little past eleven, right? No, the one I’m talking about actually happened after we brought you here. It was past midnight. It was much worse than the one we heard around eleven. The one who kept watch said the entire center of the island just lit up.”

Shuya pursed his lips, but then he realized he still hadn’t managed to find out exactly where they were.

Before he could ask though, Yukie handed him the map and student list. “This is yours. I marked off the map too.”

As he took it, Shuya realized, yes, there were more forbidden zones. He spread the map out. “The place where we talked about rock.”

That place, sector C-3, near the western shore, was crossed out with a pencil along with several other sectors. The small writing, “23rd, 11 a.m.” meant that it was forbidden as of this morning at eleven, while Shuya had been asleep.

Shuya pursed his lips. Noriko and Shogo weren’t there anymore—his thoughts were finally getting clearer—if they haven’t died between noon and now. Of course they were alive. But then he recalled how he’d seen Shogo and Noriko dead along with Yoshitoki and Shinji in his dream. He felt a chill run down his spine.

But in any case they should be alive. All he could do was believe they were all right. But how in the world would he find them?

Shuya put the map down on his chest. He couldn’t afford to waste any time deliberating, under these circumstances. The first thing was information. And since he wasn’t alone there might be a way.

He looked up at Yukie. “Where are we anyway? How did I end up in this bed?”

Yukie looked up at the window and said, “This is a lighthouse.”

“Lighthouse?”

“Yes, on the northeast end of the island. It’s marked on the map. We’ve been staying here ever since the game started.”

Shuya looked at his map again. Just as Yukie said, the lighthouse was located in sector C-10, jutting out from the northeast side of the island. The area was practically devoid of forbidden zones.

“So Shuya, about last night. The front of this lighthouse is a cliff, and that’s where you fell. The person keeping watch found you… and took you in. You were injured pretty badly. Covered with blood. I thought you were going to die.”

Shuya finally realized his torso was naked and that his throbbing left shoulder was bandaged. (Given how it felt, he deduced the bullet shattered his shoulder blade and was now lodged in there.) The right side of his neck—he felt a burning sensation right below his collar where there was another bandage (but this bullet wound must have been a minor scrape). And then on top of his left elbow. (It felt heavy. The bullet had most likely exited, but perhaps because the bone or tendon was torn off, it felt paralyzed.) Also his left side. (The bullet had pierced it, but it seemed to have missed his vital organs.) Shuya awkwardly moved his unscathed right arm and lifted his blanket, confirming he was indeed covered with bandages.

He returned the blanket and asked, “So you treated me.”

“Yes,” Yukie nodded. “We found an emergency first-aid kit in the lighthouse. We stitched your wounds a little. Not a great job, since we didn’t know what we were doing and we could only use the string and needle from a sewing set. It looks like the bullet in your shoulder… is lodged in there. We couldn’t do much. I thought what you really needed was a blood transfusion. You were bleeding so badly.”

“Thanks a lot.”

“Oh no,” Yukie smiled kindly. “I can’t believe I got to touch a guy’s body! I even got to take off your clothes.”

Shuya chuckled. While she was both very smart and considerate, she could also say bold stuff like that. She’d been like that ever since he got to know her on a rainy day in the elementary school gym, negotiating the space allocated for Little League practice and girls’ volleyball. At the time he’d said to Yoshitoki, “Then there’s Utsumi, who’s on the volleyball team. She’s pretty cool. That’s my type. You know, real outgoing.”

Of course right now he wasn’t supposed to be indulging in idle emotions. But when Yukie said, “Oh, yeah, here,” and offered him a cup of water, Shuya couldn’t resist whistling. He was in fact really thirsty. The cup was already there, on the side table beyond his field of vision.

He thought, how impressive, Representative. You’ll be a wonderful wife some day, no, a wonderful woman. No, you might in fact be a wonderful woman now. I’ve actually thought that for a while.

He took the cup, raised his head, and drank. His neck wound hurt as he swallowed and grimaced. But he drank it all.

“I might be asking for too much,” he said, returning the cup, “but I think I should drink a lot more. And also… do you have any kind of painkiller? Anything. It’ll help me.”

Yukie nodded. “Sure. I’ll go get some.”

Shuya wiped his lips and then said, “It’s amazing your friends accepted me. I mean, I could be an enemy.”

Yukie shook her head. “We couldn’t just let someone die. Besides…” She stared into Shuya’s eyes and smiled playfully. “It was you, Shuya. I’m leading this group, so I forced everyone to agree.”

Did that mean that she also thought there was something special about them ever since that time at the elementary school gym?

Shuya probed further. “Which means… that some of them were reluctant. I knew it.”

“Well, come on. Given the circumstances.” Yukie looked down. “Don’t take it the wrong way. Everyone’s very agitated.”

“Yeah.” Shuya nodded. “I know.”

“But I convinced them.” She looked up and smiled again. “So you should be thankful.”

Shuya was nodding when he noticed Yukie, who’d just been smiling, was now for some reason suddenly on the verge of tears.

She stared at him and said, “I was worried sick. I thought you might die, Shuya.”

Shuya was taken by surprise and looked at her.

Yukie continued, “I just wouldn’t know what to do if you died.” Her voice was now sobbing. “Do you understand what I’m saying? Do you see why I had to save you, no matter what?”

Shuya stared at Yukie’s tearful eyes and slowly nodded. Then he thought, geez, I can’t believe how popular I am.

Of course this might have been a psychological result of their confinement. Under these circumstances, they were probably going to die soon—no, according to the rules, they were definitely going to die. He’d never heard of someone else besides the winner surviving the hellish Program—and now that the survivors were becoming fewer and fewer, maybe a boy that you liked “a little” ever since having an exchange in the corner of an elementary school gym might turn into somebody you’d “die for.”

No, that probably wasn’t the case. She couldn’t have opposed her friends unless she really cared for him. Besides, how else could she have trusted him?

“I understand. Thanks,” he said.

Yukie wiped her tears with the lower palm of her right hand. Then she said, “Tell me. You asked about Noriko and Shogo. You said, ‘we.’ Does that mean you were with them?”

Shuya nodded.

Yukie knit her brows. “I get Noriko, but don’t tell me you were really with Shogo.”

Shuya knew what she was getting at. “Shogo’s not a bad guy,” he said. “He saved me. Noriko and me survived thanks to him. I’m sure Shogo’s protecting Noriko right now… There’s something more urgent,” he continued enthusiastically. “I forgot. We can be saved, Yukie.”

“Saved?”

Shuya nodded emphatically. “Shogo’s going to save us. He knows a way out of here.”

Yukie opened her eyes wide. “Really? Really? What is it?”

Shuya stopped suddenly. Shogo had told him, I can’t tell you till the end.

Come to think of it, Shuya had nothing to support it. He trusted Shogo, but he wasn’t so sure his explanation would persuade Yukie, who hadn’t been with Shogo. As Shogo himself constantly reminded him, she might suspect Shogo was using Shuya and the others.

Shuya decided though to explain everything from the beginning.

He told her how he’d been attacked by Yoshio Akamatsu from the very beginning, how he’d been with Noriko ever since then, how he’d fought Tatsumichi Oki, and how, while Kyoichi Motobuchi was shooting at him, Shogo had saved him and how the three were together ever since. He told her about the escape plan, how Shogo was a survivor of the Program last year, how Noriko had a fever, and how they went over to the clinic, and then about Hiroki Sugimura. How Hiroki told them that Mitsuko Souma was dangerous. And then how they were attacked by Kazuo Kiriyama while they were on the move.

“So Tatsumichi?” After he was done she brought up Tatsumichi Old first for some reason, “That was an accident?”

“That’s right. Just as I described it,” he replied and knit his brows, looking at her. “What about it?”

Yukie shook her head. She said, “It’s nothing,” and changed the subject, “I’m sorry for being so blunt, but I can’t just all of a sudden trust Shogo. I mean, that there’s a way out of here.”

Shuya still didn’t understand why Yukie had asked him about Tatsumichi, but he figured it couldn’t be all that important so he let it pass and accepted Yukie’s skepticism.

“I don’t blame you. But I think we can trust Shogo. It’s hard to explain, but he’s good,” he impatiently waved his uninjured right hand by his face. “You’d understand if you were with him.”

Yukie pressed her right fingers against her lips and said, “All right. It sounds like we should at least hear him out. I mean it’s not like we have any other option.”

Shuya looked at her. “What were you planning on doing?”

Yukie shrugged. “I thought it was hopeless. We were just discussing whether we were better off trying to escape or staying here a little longer. But we haven’t made any decisions.”

Shuya then realized he’d forgotten to ask something else he’d forgotten.

“How did you guys get together? All six of you?”

“Oh,” Yukie nodded. “I went back to the school, and I called on everyone.”

Shuya was surprised. “When?”

“That would have to be right after you and Noriko ran away. Actually, I saw Kazushi Niida run… I really wanted to get back in time to contact you, but anyway, that’s how I saw… those two dead right in front of the school entrance.”

Shuya raised his brow. “Yoshio was only unconscious, right?”

Yukie shook her head. “I wasn’t able to get a close look… but he looked dead at that point. There was an arrow… stuck in his neck.”

“Then Kazushi—”

Yukie nodded. “I think so.”

Shuya then asked, “Weren’t you scared there’d be others like Yoshio?”

“Of course the thought occurred to me… but I just couldn’t come up with any other option other than forming a group. So I went to the woods in front. I figured if I hid there I wouldn’t be seen. And if I was, then that was just too bad.”

Shuya was deeply moved. He had to look after Noriko, who was injured, but still, he’d passed on the others and ran away. Hiroki Sugimura said he’d waited for Takako Chigusa, but he was a guy, and he also practiced martial arts.

“Wow. I’m amazed, Representative.”

Yukie smiled.

“You call Noriko by her name, but with me it’s ‘Representative,’ huh?”

Shuya didn’t know what to say. “Oh well—”

“Don’t worry, it’s all right.”

A smile flashed across her face. Then she continued a little sadly, “Then Yuka Nakagawa came out, and I called her.”

“Were you able to convince her right away? Don’t get me wrong—I think you have a good reputation.”

“Oh, well.” Yukie nodded. “I didn’t come back alone. I was really shaken up at first, but I just had to come back, and on the way back, I totally lucked out, I found Haruka. You know how Haruka and I are best friends.

Shuya nodded. Haruka Tanizawa and Yukie were both on the volleyball team.

“I talked to Haruka. When I told her we should go back she resisted at first, but we had weapons. I had a pistol in my pack. When Yuka heard the two of us call she managed to trust us.”

“But… you can’t necessarily trust someone who’s paired up in this game.”

Yukie nodded. “Yes, that turned out to be true.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we decided not to have boys. Sorry. We discussed it and decided boys could mean trouble. So we let them go, and then there was Fumiyo—” Yukie stopped. Fumiyo Fujiyoshi (Female Student No. 18) had died before their departure. “After her came Chisato. So there were five of us. We also called on Kaori Minami but—”

Shuya filled in the rest, “She ran away.”

“Yes, she did.”

Shuya realized he hadn’t told her that he’d seen her die. He thought of telling her, but decided not to. Now that Kaori’s killer Hirono Shimizu was also dead, it didn’t seem relevant and besides, it wasn’t a pleasant memory. Also, as awful as it sounded, he couldn’t afford to waste any more time talking about the dead.

“So Yoshimi reacted the same way as Kaori?” Shuya uttered the name of the last female student seat number, Yoshimi Yahagi, along with Kaori’s and suddenly felt a chill run down his spine. Names of the dead. Both of them. Both. of. them. Jesus. The smiling face of the man in the black suit made a sudden appearance in Shuya’s mind. It’d been a while. Hey there, Shuya. So you’re still alive? You’re a tough one.

“Well.” Yukie looked away from Shuya and pursed her lips. She squinted. “That was different.”

“How so?”

Yukie took a deep breath. “I said we should call on her. But some of the girls protested. You know Yoshimi was friends with Mitsuko. They couldn’t trust her.”

Shuya fell silent.

Yukie said looking away. “So she’s dead. We let her die.”

Shuya said, “No, you’re wrong.”

Yukie looked back at Shuya.

“It was beyond your control. It’s no one’s fault.”

He knew it didn’t sound very convincing, but that’s all he could say .

Yukie grinned wryly and sighed. “You’re kind. You’ve always been so nice.”

They nearly fell silent, but then Shuya had to say something, “You should have called on Shinji.” Yukie’s group could have at least called on Shinji Mimura, who was at the tail end of the student list. “He could have been trusted.”

Yukie sighed again. “I thought so too, but Shinji didn’t have a very good reputation… among the girls. You know, he was kind of a playboy. And his intelligence was kind of intimidating. You know how he intervened when Noriko was injured? One of the girls said that might have been calculated.”

It was the same explanation Shogo gave when he mentioned he’d seen Shinji.

“Before we could decide, Shinji was gone.” Yukie shrugged. “In any case, we’d decided against boys. So we didn’t call on Kazuhiko either.”

Kazuhiko Yamamoto, who went out with Sakura Ogawa, who despite his good looks was kind and unpretentious, and therefore must have been popular with the girls. Yukie’s group decided against contacting him too, though. And given this policy, it was only to be expected there’d be some friction over taking in Shuya here.

Shuya realized Yukie only accounted for five of them. She hadn’t mentioned Yuko Sakaki (Female Student No. 9).

“What about Yuko? You haven’t mentioned her.”

Yukie nodded and looked back at Shuya. “That was luck too. We came here yesterday morning… Nice fortress huh? Last night, I think it was around 8 p.m., Yuko just stumbled by here. She was totally terrified.”

Yukie stopped as if she had something else to say. Shuya was about to ask her what was wrong, but Yukie continued, “In any case, everyone knows Yuko. So it wasn’t a problem.”

That summed up her account. Shuya thought of asking more about Yuko Sakaki but decided not to. If she’d been alone until last night then she might have encountered something horrible. Did she survive someone’s attack, or did she see students killings each other, or did she come across a corpse torn up from fighting?

Shuya nodded slightly several times. “I get it now.”

“There’s one thing I don’t get,” Yukie said. “It’s not a big deal, but Hiroki was saying he needed to see Kayoko Kotohiki, right? And that was why he didn’t join your group.”

Shuya was worried about him ever since he summarized his situation to Yukie. Hiroki was still alive and so was Kayoko Kotohiki. Did he manage to find her?

“He had to see her. I wonder why.”

Shuya shook his head. “We didn’t ask. He was in a hurry. We were wondering too—”

As he spoke Shuya couldn’t help but wonder, did Hiroki manage to find Kayoko Kotohiki? If he did then—

Shogo’s voice suddenly returned: “This sound is your ticket out of here. If you’re up for it, you can come aboard our train.”

Shuya opened his eyes wide and exclaimed, “The bird call.”

“What?”

Shuya looked over at Yukie. “I know a way we can join Noriko and Shogo.”

“Really?”

Shuya nodded. Then he struggled to move his body. He could explain later. “I have to contact him now. I have to get going.”

“Hold on,” Yukie stopped him. “You need to rest.”

“I can’t. The more I lie around—”

“I said hold on. You might want to listen to the girl who’s in love with you.” She managed to say this as she blushed a little with a playful smile. “We took you in here because even if you woke up you wouldn’t be able to move. Your sudden burst of energy might terrify some of the girls.”

Shuya’s eyes opened wide. But then again it made sense. That was probably why the other girls let Yukie stay with him alone here.

“In any case, just stay put for a while. I’ll tell them everything you told me. I’ll insist you and Shogo can be trusted and convince them. As for contacting him and Noriko, I can’t let you do that alone. That’s just too dangerous. I’ll discuss that with them too. So you just stay here.” Then she asked him, “Can you eat?”

“Yeah.”

In fact he was famished. He was worried about Noriko and Shogo, but he thought he should eat first. It would help his immune system fight against his gunshot wounds.

“If you have any food to spare I’d really appreciate it. I do feel pretty weak.”

Yukie smiled. “We’re preparing lunch right now. I’ll bring you some. I think it’s something like stew. Is that all right?”

“Stew?”

“Yeah, this place is loaded with food even though it’s all just preserved canned food and retort food. But we found water and solid fuel, so we were able to cook it.”

“Awesome. That’s great.”

Yukie’s hand left the edge of the bed. She walked over to the door and said, “I’m really sorry but I’m going to have to lock the door.”

“Huh?”

“I’m sorry. There’s someone who’s terrified. So please, just wait,” Yukie said. She smiled kindly as she opened the door and went out. Her two braids of hair swung like some mysterious animal’s tail, and he caught a glimpse of a gun stuck in the back of her skirt.

There was a clacking sound from beyond the door. It might have been bolted shut. Was that how they locked him up?

Shuya managed to raise his upper body with his right elbow and looked up at the window above his head. The window was sealed with wooden planks and light leaked in through the gaps. This was done to keep intruders out—but right now it also served as an ideal place to lock him up.

The fingers of his near paralyzed left arm reflexively formed guitar chords under the blanket. The chords from that hit tune sung by the rock star the middle-aged man, the one who gave him his guitar, worshipped, “Jailhouse Rock.”

Shuya took a deep breath and lay down on his bed. The slight movement was enough to send sharp pain through the wound in his side.

60

The Okishima Island lighthouse was old but durable. It faced north with a tower seventeen meters high, and the living quarters, a single-story brick building, had been built as an annex to the tower on its south side. The dining-kitchen-living room was immediately south of the tower, and further south was the storage room and bathroom. Further down were two bedrooms, one large, the other small, along with another storage room right near the front entrance. The hall running on the west side of the building connected these rooms. (Shuya was resting in the small bedroom by the entrance.)

In the corner of the kitchen-living room, which was at least as large as a classroom, was a small table that looked out of place. Yuko Sakaki (Female Student No. 9) was sitting on one of the stools around the table, slumped over the white tabletop as if she were dozing off. Unlike the other five girls, she had wandered around the island for hours on end, so a single night here had hardly alleviated her fatigue. No wonder. She had a reason for not sleeping at all last night.

Yukie Utsumi’s team used this room as their living quarters and slept here too. Someone had to keep watch at the top of the tower, but otherwise Yukie decided that everyone should stick together.

Right behind Yuko, Haruka Tanizawa (Female Student No. 12) and Chisato Matsui (Female Student No. 19) were busily preparing the preserved food in front of the stove, where solid fuel was lit up in place of the shut-off gas. At 172 centimeters tall, Haruka was an attacker on the volleyball team. She and Yukie, who was a setter, formed a great duo. She had short hair, so next to the long-haired, petit Chisato they almost looked like a couple. The meal was a retort stew mixed with canned vegetables. Above them were planks of wood they found in the storage room and hastily hammered into the frosted glass window, which let in the dull light of the cloudy sky. The planks were there to keep intruders out. As soon as they had arrived Yukie and the girls immediately sealed off every entrance and exit from the inside of the building. (The front entrance was designated as their primary entrance-exit, which was where they took Yuko in, but now it was barricaded with desks and lockers.)

Yuko had a clear view of the other side of the room where there was a writing desk with a fax machine and computer. To the left of it, Satomi Noda (Female Student No. 17) was sitting on a sofa placed against the wall, while the table that had been in front of it was now used to barricade the front entrance. Along with Yukie, Satomi was a model student, and although she always seemed a little frigid, now she looked pretty exhausted as she raised her wire-rimmed glasses and drowsily rubbed her eyes.

To the left of the sofa, the kitchen’s side door connected to the hall that led to the front entrance. On Yuko’s right, the far door on the other side led to the bottom of the tower, and the first several steel stairs leading up to the lantern room were visible. Yuka Nakagawa (Female Student No. 16) was up there, supposedly keeping watch. Yuko hadn’t kept watch yet, but Yukie had told her that since the lighthouse faced the ocean, and since there was only one narrow path from the harbor behind the building, the rest of the area surrounded by mountains, it wasn’t very difficult to keep watch. Yukie was now in the room right by the entrance where they’d kept Shuya Nanahara.

Shuya Nanahara.

Yuko felt the tremor of fear returning. Along with it the image that was burnt into her memory. The cracked head. The bloody axe removed from it. And the boy who held this axe.

It was a chilling memory. And this boy—Shuya Nanahara—was now in the lighthouse, the same building she was in. That was—

No, it’s all right. It’s all right.

Trying to keep herself from trembling, she stared at the white tabletop and reminded herself, he’s dying, he can’t possibly wake up after so many injuries and so much bleeding.

Someone tapped her on the shoulder and she looked up.

As Haruka Tanizawa sat down next to her, she stared at Yuko and asked, “Did you get any sleep?” She was taking a break from cooking. Chisato Matsui seemed to be checking the cooking instructions, examining the package of preserved food. (Chisato had in fact been quietly weeping this morning. Haruka Tanizawa had whispered to her it was because of the 6 a.m. announcement of Shinji Mimura’s death. Until then Yuko hardly knew Chisato had a crush on Shinji Mimura. Her eyes were still red.)

Yuko forced a smile and answered, “Yeah, a little.” It was all right. As long as she was with these other five friends she was all right. She was safe here. Even if that safety would expire when their time ran out. Still—

Haruka brought up the matter. “What you said about yesterday.”

“Oh,” Yuko smiled. “It’s all right now.”

Yes, it was fine now. She didn’t even want to think about it. Just the memory sent chills down her spine. But in any case, Shuya Nanahara wasn’t going to wake up again. Then it was all right. Just fine.

Haruka smiled ambivalently. “Well then, okay.”

When Shuya Nanahara was discovered unconscious in front of the lighthouse yesterday, Yuko had vehemently opposed taking him in. She had explained (she was shouting rather than explaining) what she’d seen, Tatsumichi Oki’s split-open skull, how Shuya Nanahara had removed the axe, how dangerous he was, and how he would try to kill them if they let him live.

Yuko and Yukie were on the verge of fighting, but then Haruka and the others insisted they couldn’t just let someone die, so they brought Shuya in. Yuko looked on, face ashen, keeping her distance, while the others carried the blood-drenched Shuya. It was as if they were welcoming a strange, scary monster that haunted you in your childhood dreams into your house. No, that’s exactly what it was like.

As time passed, Yuko convinced herself Shuya was dying. After all, he couldn’t possibly survive those wounds. Knowing he would die of course was unappealing, but in any case she managed to hold herself back. The one condition she insisted on, though, was that his room be locked.

Haruka continued. It was the same question they had asked several times yesterday. “You say you saw Shuya kill Tatsumichi, but it might have been in self-defense, right?”

That was true. She’d been hiding in the bushes when she heard the thudding sound. By the time she looked, the only part she really witnessed was Shuya removing the axe from Tatsumichi Oki’s head. Then she immediately ran away.

In other words, as Haruka said (which was based on Yuko’s own description), Yuko had only seen the aftermath. It was possible he had done it in self-defense. However, no matter how many times Haruka and Yukie said this to her, Yuko just couldn’t see it that way. No, she simply rejected the idea.

What do you mean, “possible”? I saw that cracked skull. I saw Shuya Nanahara holding that axe. The bloody axe. The dripping blood.

Her thoughts revolved around this scene now. Yuko couldn’t be rational about Shuya Nanahara anymore. It was like a natural disaster, like a flood or tornado. The moment Yuko began thinking about Shuya, that scene and her fear would just wash it all away. The only thing left was an axiom that was nearly visceral: Shuya Nanahara was dangerous.

Yuko had her reasons. She abhorred violence. She couldn’t stand it. Hearing a friend talk about a splatter film in Class B—had it been Yuka Nakagawa? “Of course, it was funny, but, it wasn’t a big deal, it should have more gory, ha ha ha”—she felt sick enough to be taken to the school nurse.

It was probably related to her memory of her father. Even though he wasn’t a stepfather—he was her real father—he drank heavily and abused her mother, her older brother, and Yuko herself. She was too young back then so Yuko didn’t understand why. She was never able to ask her mother why he was like that. She didn’t even want to remember it. Well, maybe there were no reasons at all. She didn’t know. In any case, when her father was stabbed to death by a yakuza over some gambling dispute—Yuko was still in first grade—she felt more relieved than bereaved. Ever since then she, her mother, and brother led a peaceful life. They could invite friends over. They finally felt safe with the disappearance of their father.

But she still sometimes had dreams about him. Her bleeding mother being beaten with a golf club (even though they were poor, this was the one expensive item in their home). Her brother being beaten with an ashtray, nearly losing his sight. And herself, suffering cigarette burns, paralyzed with fear. Her mother who tried to intervene would then be beaten again.

Maybe all of that was related, maybe not. In any case, Yuko was absolutely convinced Shuya Nanahara was dangerous.

“Right?” She heard Haruka say that emphatically, but her words didn’t register. A chill ran through her body, accompanied by a vision. Everyone including herself, the six of them lying on the floor, their skulls cracked open, and Shuya Nanahara grinning with an axe in his hand.

No, no. It’s going to be over. Shuya Nanahara won’t be around for long.

“Yes.” She looked up and nodded. In fact, she had no idea what Haruka was talking about. But in any case as long as Shuya couldn’t recover there was no reason to throw the team off balance. Haruka seemed to be seeking some indication she was convinced.

“Y-yes. It was just me. I was so tired too.”

This seemed to put Haruka at ease. She said, “Shuya’s a good guy. They’re aren’t too many around like him.”

Yuko looked at Haruka as if she were a mummy exhibited in a museum. She had thought so too, until recently. Shuya seemed strange, but all in all there was something very likable about him. In fact, she’d even thought he was kind of cool. But any memory of this feeling had completely fallen by the wayside now. Maybe it was more accurate to say the cracked-skull scene had smothered out all her other memories.

What? What are you saying, Haruka? That he’s good? What are you talking about?

Haruka looked into Yuko’s eyes dubiously, but added, “So even if he gets up, don’t provoke him, okay?”

Yuko was horrified. There was no way he was going to wake up. If-if that ever happened…

But a portion of her rational faculties were still intact enough for her to nod and say, “I’m fine. No problem.”

“Good. I feel much better.”

Haruka nodded back, turned towards Chisato without getting up, and said, “Smells good.”

Along with the steam, the smell of the stew came drifting from the stove pot.

Chisato turned her head around and said in her quiet, thin voice, “Yes, it looks pretty good. It might be better than yesterday’s soup.”

She had been crying over Shinji Mimura for a long time, but she seemed all right for the time being. Even Yuko could see that.

Right then, the door to the hall opened up. It was Yukie Utsumi. As usual she maintained her perfect posture and walked forward confidently. After Yuko’s arrival, Yukie still did a good job leading the group, but she seemed a little tired. Ever since they took in Shuya she looked even more distressed. (It was in fact because she was on the one hand happy to see Shuya, but on the other worried his wounds might prove to be fatal, but this was beyond the scope of Yuko’s perception.) Yuko felt like it’d been a while since she last saw Yukie so energetic, but now her face was beaming.

Yuko felt as if a caterpillar was crawling up her spine. She had a bad feeling about this.

Yukie stopped, put her hands on her waists, and looked around at everyone. Then she comically cupped her hands against her mouth in the shape of a megaphone.

Then she said, “Shuya Nanahara has arisen.”

Haruka and Chisato cried out with joy while Satomi got up from her sofa, but next to her Yuko turned pale.

61

“Really? Can he speak?” Haruka asked.

“Uh huh. He says he’s hungry too.” Yukie nodded and then looked over at Yuko and said, “It’s all right. I locked the door to his room so you wouldn’t have to worry.”

She wasn’t being sarcastic. It sounded more like she was doing what she should do as the leader.

But that wasn’t the point, Yuko thought. No, actually she had considered it over and over last night. While she was certain he would never recover, what if he did? Then how would she deal with it? And… then the odor drifted by.

What timing. They were about to eat. Besides it wouldn’t be that odd for a guy in critical condition to die suddenly, would it?

Yuko forced a smile (indeed, it was impeccable) and shook her head. “I’m not worried,” she continued, “I’m sorry. I was all screwed up yesterday. I won’t hold anything against Shuya anymore.”

This seemed to relieve Yukie. She took a deep breath.

“Well then, I guess I didn’t need to lock the door.” She smiled at Yuko and added, “What happened with Tatsumichi Oki was an accident. That’s what Shuya said.”

Hearing Tatsumichi’s name, Yuko had a flashback of that scene which sent another chill down her spine, but she managed to keep her smile and nodded. An accident. Well, I suppose it was quite an accident for Tatsumichi Oki.

Yukie then said to Haruka, “Hey, Haruka, can you go get Yuka? There’s something I need to discuss.”

Haruka asked back, “Shouldn’t she be keeping watch?”

“It’s all right,” Yukie nodded. “The building is sealed, so we’re fine. It’ll be brief.”

Haruka nodded and entered the room leading up to the lantern room. You could hear footsteps clang up the steel stairs.

While Satomi and Chisato asked in succession, “How is he?” and “Can he eat the same stuff we’re eating?” Yuko quietly stood up from her chair and walked over to the sink.

There was a stack of several deep dishes right beside the steaming stew pot. Chisato and Haruka had taken them out of the dish cabinet.

Yuko dug her hand into her skirt pocket and touched the object inside. The weapon she found in her day pack was a telescoping spring baton, but what she now held was this item labeled “special bonus,” the item she had thought was useless. Even after she was welcomed here she didn’t think there was much point in mentioning it. But when Shuya Nanahara showed up she came up with this idea, so she kept it a secret.

In the past, her father’s violence, his terrorization of the rest of her family, ended unexpectedly. That was how her family finally attained peace.

Now there was another threat. She had to put a stop to it. Once she did, she would be safe again. She wouldn’t have to be terrified anymore.

She felt no hesitation. Oddly enough, she was calm.

She removed the cork lid of the tiny bottle inside her pocket with one hand.

62

“Hey,” Yuko called over to Yukie. Yukie, who was speaking to Satomi and Chisato, looked over at her. Yuko continued, “Maybe we should bring Shuya his meal first?”

Yukie beamed a smile at her. “That’s a good idea. Let’s do that.” Yuko then added very casually, “The stew looks ready, so how about I start serving it up?”

She held the dish. The dish.

“Sure—oh that’s right,” Yukie said as if she suddenly remembered. “You know, there’s a medicine kit in the desk drawer over there. I think it has some painkillers. I should bring Shuya some painkillers with his meal.”

“Sure.” Yuko then let go of the dish. It clicked against the sink. “Okay. Hold on.”

The writing desk, equipped with a computer and phone, was across from the sink, in the corner of the room. Yuko made her way around the table to get there.

Clanging footsteps descended the steel stairs. Haruka and Yuka Nakagawa entered the room. Yuka Nakagawa had a short-barreled gun resembling an expanded automatic gun with an extended stock slung over her shoulder. (It was an Uzi 9mm submachine gun. It was Satomi Noda’s supplied weapon, but because it seemed like the most powerful weapon they had, whoever keeping watch held onto it.)

“I heard Shuya’s up!” Yuka said in her usual cheerful voice, placing the Uzi on the table. A little chubby and, thanks to her tennis team practice in the outdoor courts, tan, Yuka somehow managed to stay cheerful even in these dire circumstances.

“Yes.” Yukie nodded happily.

“Well, you must be relieved, Representative,” Yuka teased her.

Yukie blushed a little. “What are you saying?”

“Oh, come on. You’re beaming.”

Yukie frowned and then shook her head. Suddenly realizing something, Yuka looked over at Chisato and fell silent. Chisato had lost Shinji Mimura, the boy she loved, and now she stared down at the floor.

Yuko hardly paid attention to this exchange as she took the wooden medical kit she found in the desk drawer. She placed it on the desk and opened it up. It was stuffed with various kinds of medical supplies, gauze, poultices. The only things missing were the bandages, since they were almost entirely used up to treat Shuya Nanahara.

Painkillers. Which one were the painkillers? Of course, it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter because—

“Wow, it smells great,” she heard Yuka say, trying to change the mood. But she hardly paid noticed to that either.

Painkillers… ah, here we go. Right here. For headaches, menstrual cramps, toothaches… Oh, come to think of it, my stomach’s been aching. I’ll take some later. After things settle down a little.

“So what is it?” Satomi asked Yukie in her slightly husky voice.

“What is it?” Haruka asked.

“Oh, right. Let’s see, where do I begin?” Yukie said.

It was only when Yuka said, “Let’s have a taste then,” that Yuko suddenly looked up.

She turned around and saw Yuka lift the dish and put it against her mouth. She should have used the ladle if she wanted a taste. Instead she had to put her mouth against that dish, the one she’d sprinkled with the half-transparent powder.

Yuko turned pale. She was about to raise her voice, but it happened too fast.

Yuka dropped the dish and the stew splashed against the floor with a crashing sound. Everyone looked over at her.

Yuka held onto her throat and coughed out the stew she had just swallowed. Then she coughed more violently onto the white table. Now the substance was bright red. The red splattered out in a circle against the white table and resembled the national flag of the Republic of Greater East Asia. And then she crashed onto the floor covered with stew.

“Yuka!”

Everyone—besides Yuko, who was speechless—cried out and ran to Yuka.

Yuka balled up on her side and coughed up blood again. Her tan face became more and more pale. Red foam spilled out the side of her mouth.

“Yuka! Yuka! What happened!?”

Yukie shook her body, but the dark-red foam only continued to spill out the side of her mouth. Her eyes were open as wide as possible, as if on the verge of popping out, but now even the whites of her eyes were turning red. For some reason—inflammation or broken capillaries—dark-red and black spots began appearing all over her blue face, transforming it into the mask of some grotesque monster.

But besides this, there was something else that was indisputable. It was obvious. Yuka had stopped breathing. Everyone fell silent. Yukie’s trembling hand touched Yuka’s throat. She said, “She’s dead.”

Behind Yukie, who crouched down beside Yuka and Haruka, Yuko stood still, her face completely pale.

She was shaking. (Of course it was very possible the other four were also in the same state.)

Oh, how could… how could this… this is all a mistake… mistake… how could… you only had a mouthful… how could it be this strong… I didn’t… this is a mistake… I killed her… by mistake… it was a mistake… I didn’t mean to… I wanted to get rid of—

“It couldn’t have been from food poisoning… could it?” Yukie continued, her voice trembling.

Chisato responded, “I… just tasted it. Nothing happened… this… this… could this be…”

Haruka followed up, “Poison?”

That sparked it off. Everyone (to be more accurate, it was everyone besides Yuko, but the other four didn’t realize this) looked at each other.

There was a thump. Satomi Noda had grabbed the Uzi and was now aiming it at the others. The other four, including Yuko, reflexively moved to the side or backed away from Yuka’s corpse.

Satomi screamed. Her eyes behind her glasses were wide open with fear. “Who!? Who did it!? Who poisoned this stew! Who’s the one trying to kill us!?”

“Stop it!” Yukie yelled.

Yuko saw her hand reach for the gun (Browning High Power 9mm. This was Yukie’s supplied weapon and because she was the team leader she held onto it) tucked in the back of her skirt. Yukie was about to move forward but stopped and stepped back. “Put your gun down. That can’t be.”

“Oh yes it can,” Satomi shook her head. Satomi who always seemed so calm had completely lost control. “The last announcement said there were only fourteen of us left. It’s getting down to the wire. So our enemy’s finally rearing its ugly head.” Then she looked over at Haruka and said, “You were the one cooking.”

Haruka shook her head violently. “I wasn’t the only one. Chisato also—”

“That’s horrible,” Chisato said. “I would never do such a horrible thing! Besides…” She seemed to hesitate, but then she said, “Satomi and Yuko also had plenty of chances to poison the food.”

“That’s right,” Haruka turned back to Satomi, then hissed at her, “Aren’t you getting a little too upset?”

“Haruka!” Yukie stopped her, but it was too late. Satomi was now completely upset.

“What was that?”

“That’s right,” Haruka continued, “First of all, you’ve hardly slept. I know. When I got up in the middle of the night, you were up. Doesn’t that mean you don’t trust us? That’s proof, right there!”

“Please, stop it, Haruka!” Yukie pleaded. She was nearly shrieking now. “Satomi! Put down the gun!”

“Oh, please.” Satomi pointed the Uzi at Yukie now. “Stop pretending you’re the leader. So this is the act you put on after your plan to poison everyone goes awry? Is that it?”

“Satomi,” Yukie said desperately.

Yuko raised her hand up to her mouth and stepped back in a daze. Her body was numb from the sudden turn of events. But she had to say it, she had to explain the truth, or else this… something terrible was going to happen.

Suddenly, Chisato moved to the side table against the wall on the right side of the sink. There was the remaining gun—a Czechoslovakian CZ75. (It was in fact Yuka’s weapon.)

The rattling sound echoed through the room. Chisato was shot in the back three times as she crashed against the side table, slid down, clutched onto its edge, and fell face forward onto the floor. There was no need to check. She was dead.

“Satomi! What are you doing!?” Yukie’s eyes opened wide as she screamed. Her voice was breaking.

“Oh, please.” Satomi held her smoking Uzi and glared at Yukie. “She went for the gun. Because she was guilty.”

“So did you though!” Haruka screamed. “Yukie! Shoot Satomi!”

With a clicking sound, Satomi pointed the Uzi at Haruka. Her face darkened. She seemed ready to shoot Haruka at any moment.

Yukie looked anguished. At that moment she had her hand on the Browning in the back of her skirt. After hesitating, she must have intended to shoot Satomi’s arm or some other part of her body.

Satomi then quickly shifted the Uzi and fired at Yukie.

Yukie was blown back with the rattling sound. Blood burst out of the holes in her chest and she fell backwards.

Haruka stood still for only a moment and then made a dash for the Browning Yukie had dropped. Satomi’s Uzi followed her body and burst out, blowing off Haruka’s side along with the fabric of her uniform. Her body slid against the floor.

The table was in between them now. Satomi pointed the Uzi at Yuko. She said, “What about you? You’re different, right?”

Yuko could only tremble. As she trembled, her eyes were fixed on Satomi’s face.

There was a pop. There was a hole on the left side of Satomi’s forehead. She opened her mouth… and looked down at her left hand. Blood burst out of the hole in her forehead, splashing against the inside of her glasses. Then it continued to drip downward.

Yuko’s neck moved stiffly like some gadget as she followed Satomi’s eyes and found Haruka, her torso raised in pain from her fallen position, somehow still holding the Browning.

Satomi’s Uzi burst out. It wasn’t clear whether she pulled the trigger intentionally or whether it was from her nerves twitching. Rows of bullets tore along the floor and pierced Haruka’s body which got tossed over and back. A bloody mist burst upward, nearly tearing off Haruka’s neck above her metal collar.

Satomi’s body fell forward slowly and landed with a thud over Yuka Nakagawa’s corpse. She remained absolutely still.

Completely alone in the room, Yuko just kept on trembling. Her body was stiff as a rock. With the look of a child wandering into a freakish museum exhibition, she gazed at the floor covered with the corpses of five of her classmates.

63

When he heard the shattering sound, Shuya just thought, oh, one of those clumsy girls must have dropped a dish, but when the sound was followed by an argument, he got up from his bed.

He felt a sharp pain run through the left side of his stomach and his shoulder blade. Shuya groaned, but using his right arm he managed to get out of the bed and stepped onto the floor with his bare feet. He was only wearing his school uniform pants. The heated argument continued. He thought he heard Yukie shouting.

Shuya walked over to the door and put his hand on the doorknob. The knob turned and as he pushed—the door seemed blocked. Through the one-centimeter gap he could see a wooden plank diagonally set against the door. As Yukie had warned him, they had constructed a makeshift bolt lock.

Shuya grabbed the doorknob and shook it vigorously several times, but the door wouldn’t budge. He poked his fingers through the gap, but the plank, set against the door, refused to move.

On the verge of giving up, he took a deep breath when he heard the all-too-familiar rattling sound through the gap. There were several screams.

Shuya turned pale. Were they being attacked? But if that was K—in any case, something was wrong!

Shuya managed to keep his injured body from tottering over. He raised his right foot and kicked the door with the heel of his bare foot, using the front kick technique he’d learned from Hiroki. But the door easily spurned his kick, throwing him off balance. He fell back onto the floor and felt a searing pain go up his side. He also realized he needed to pee, but that would have to wait.

BRRATTA. More rattling. And then more BRRATTA.

Shuya turned back to the bed, stood up, and lifted the edge of the bed that was made of steel pipes with his right hand. The bed landed on its side with a thud and the blanket and sheets slid off.

Shuya dragged the bed, pressed one end against the door, and went around to the other end. He then shoved it against the door with all his might. The door made a cracking sound. One more shove.

Bang. Gunfire. This time, one shot.

The bed pummeled into the wooden door. The door bent in half with a crack and opened into the hall. Shuya yanked the bed from the front of the door with his right hand and let it fall against the floor.

Another burst of typewriter-like rattling gunfire was now clearly audible through the open door. Shuya came out into the hall. The shades were drawn on the windows that had been nailed shut with wooden planks so the unlit hall was dim. The entrance was on his left. There were three doors down the hall on his right. The far door was slightly ajar, and light leaked into the hall, forming what looked like a cold puddle of light.

Shuya picked up one of the longer pieces of broken planks in front of the door, approximately one meter long. He dragged his aching body down the hall. It was completely quiet now. What the hell happened? Did someone attack, or…

Shuya cautiously approached the door. He peeked through the gap and saw the room with kitchen equipment where Yukie Utsumi and Haruka Tanizawa were sprawled out by the center table. Beyond them was Yuka Nakagawa (what’s up with that face!). Chisato Matsui was against the wall on the right. Someone was lying face down in the shadow of the table. That someone had to be Satomi Noda, because the relatively thin body standing still with her back towards him and silky, straight, shoulder-length hair belonged to—unless Shuya was mistaken—Yuko Sakaki.

There were several guns scattered around the collapsed bodies of Yukie’s group. He was assaulted by the stench of blood splattered across the floor.

Shuya froze in shock. That overwhelming numbness was identical to the way he felt when he saw Mayumi Tendo’s body right in front of the school.

What happened? How could this have happened? Yukie who had just said to him, “You might want to listen to the girl who’s in love with you,” was lying over there. Four others had fallen too. Were they dead? Did they die?

Yuko, her back facing Shuya, didn’t have a gun. She was just standing still like a Venusian suddenly dropped onto Pluto.

Shuya was in a daze as he slowly clutched the doorknob, opened the door, and stepped into the room.

Yuko turn around. She gazed at Shuya with bloodshot eyes, but then went for the gun lying on the floor between Yukie and Haruka.

Shuya also came out of his daze. He tossed the plank he’d been holding with his uninjured arm the way he’d pitch a perfect fastball in Little League. (He wasn’t sure anymore whether such a game existed on earth. It seemed to take place on a distant planet in the remote Andromeda Galaxy where the inhabitants played this game using three arms out of five, although the use of one’s tail was permitted in the final inning.)

His body suddenly ached all over, and he grimaced. The plank hit the floor right in front of Yuko and bounced up. Yuko stopped as she shielded her face with her hand and fell back onto the bloody floor.

Shuya dashed for the gun. He knew that in this chaos Yuko holding a gun would only make matters worse.

Yuko shrieked and retreated. She got up, turned around, and ran to the other side of the room. She passed by the table and disappeared through an open door further down. There was a metallic clang. Were they… stairs?

Shuya gazed over there for a moment after she disappeared. But then he dashed over to Yukie and knelt down beside her.

He could tell her chest was ridden with holes. The blood was oozing out under her body already, and her eyes were shut peacefully as if she were sleeping. Her mouth was barely open—

She wasn’t breathing anymore.

“Ahh,” Shuya cried. He reached out his uninjured right hand to her peaceful face. He felt tears welling up for the first time ever since the game began. Was it because they’d just talked minutes ago? Or was it because of what she’d said:

“I just wouldn’t know what to do if you died…. Do you understand what I’m saying? Do you?”

Her tearful but relieved face. Her melancholic face. And now her oddly peaceful face.

He looked around. There was no need to check. Yuka Nakagawa’s face had changed color. A bloody foam dripped from her mouth. Satomi Noda lay face down, a puddle of blood under her head. Chisato Matsui’s back was covered with bullet holes, and Haruka Tanizawa—her neck was nearly torn off.

How could… how could this be…

Shuya looked back at Yukie. His nearly paralyzed left arm supported his right arm so he could hold her up. It might have been a meaningless gesture. But Shuya had to do it.

As he held her body, he heard the blood dripping onto the floor from the holes in her chest. Her head hung back and her braided hair touched his arm.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Shuya burst into tears as they fell onto her uniform.

“Ungh,” Shuya bit his lip and gently let her down onto the floor. He picked up the Browning Yuko had attempted to grab. He walked to the door at the far end of the room where Yuko had gone. His body felt incredibly heavy. It wasn’t just because he was injured. He wiped his eyes with his bare right arm, which was also holding the Browning.

He entered. It was a cylindrical space made of bare concrete. The tower. This was the lighthouse. There was a thick steel column in the center and a spiral steel staircase winding around it. There were no windows, only a sliver of light from above.

“Yuko!” Shuya yelled. He began climbing the stairs as he yelled, “What happened, Yuko!?”

Yuko wasn’t there at the top of the stairs. But… he heard the sound of her scream “AIEEE” echo through the cylindrical space of the tower. Shuya knit his brows—and began quickly climbing the stairs. The wound in his side began to ache. He thought he might be bleeding because his bandages now felt damp.

64

Yuko Sakaki ran out of breath as she climbed up the stairs to the top of the lighthouse. The Cyclops-like Fresnel lens was at the center of the landing, and there was enough space to move around it. She saw the cloudy sky beyond the windproof windows of the lantern room. On her left was a low door that led to a narrow balcony, and frantically she opened it. She was outside now.

Maybe it was the height, but the wind was stronger than she’d expected. She caught a strong whiff of the sea breeze.

The ocean was right there in front of her. Reflecting the cloudy sky, the sea was dull indigo, and the white waves were woven into it like some fabric. Yuko edged over to the right. The northern mountain was right in front of her. There was a small, open lot in front of the lighthouse building. On her left an unpaved road stretched out around the foot of the mountain, and there was a white light truck right by a barely functional gate in front of the road.

Yuko held onto the steel handrailing around the balcony. The room she was inside only moments ago was down below. She saw the roof of the single-story building annex. Following the railing, she continued circling the lantern room, but didn’t find what she thought she would—a steel ladder. Yuko never had the chance to keep watch so she didn’t know the exterior of the lighthouse. There was no way out. She was standing, facing the sky. She was trapped now. Realizing this, she was about to panic, but she clenched her teeth and held herself together. If there was no ladder… then she’d have to jump.

She was panting. She ended up returning to her previous position. She looked down again.

It was high. It wasn’t as bad as leaping to the ground, but it was still high. In fact, it might have been impossible to jump at this height, but before she could make a rational choice the image flashed across her mind again. This time it was her head, alone, split open. Blood spraying up. Shuya’s face covered with its blood. She had to escape. No matter what. She just had to escape. She had no time to lose.

Yuko crouched down and slid between the haphazardly installed steel fence. Its bars were widely spaced. She got through. Holding onto the railing from outside, she cautiously stood on the edge of the balcony barely ten centimeters wide, but the view below her feet made her dizzy. It was way too high… jumping down was out of the question… it was just way too high…

Her view suddenly shook. Her feet slipped. The side of her shin hit the concrete edge of the balcony (she felt her skin scraping off), and Yuko’s body flew out into the sky. “AIEEE,” Yuko shrieked. Simultaneously, her hands groped around and managed to grab a thin steel bar from the steel fence. Yuko’s body hung from the edge of the balcony.

Holding onto the railing, Yuko was panting. She’d nearly died. However, she took a deep breath and put all her might into her hands. First, she had to lift her body up and get back to the other side of the railing. Then she would have to figure out some way to fight Shuya Nanahara. That was the only—

The strong wind whistled by and shook her body. She shrieked, “AIEEE,” but it didn’t do much. Her hands clutching onto the steel bar slipped, and now the palms of her hands barely managed to hold onto the edge of the balcony. Now she couldn’t even reach for the steel bars.

She was appalled to find her palms were oozing sweat. She was overcome with fear and panic. How, how, how, how could she be sweating now? Her hands… her hands were slipping…

Her right pinky slipped off the edge of the balcony.

“No!” Yuko screamed. Then her ring finger. Then her entire right hand fell off the railing (she felt the nail of her index finger catch, but it peeled off and that was that). Her body swung, her left hand now the fulcrum. And now her left hand too…

“Ahhhhhh—” As she screamed, Yuko was overwhelmed with a dreamlike sensation that she was falling.

But then she felt an impact run down her arm to her shoulder. Her fall came to a halt less than half a meter below.

Swinging like a pendulum on her left arm, Yuko gazed up… and then saw Shuya Nanahara beyond the railing extending his body, stretching his right arm out, holding her wrist.

For an instant Yuko gazed at Shuya’s face, but then the next moment she screamed, “No—!”

Of course if she let go she would die, but it was Shuya Nanahara holding her hand!

“No! No!”

Her eyes wide open, her hair tossed around, Yuko continued screaming as she wondered, why? Why are you trying to save me? Is it because you want to use me to survive? Or, oh, I get it. You want to kill me with your very own hands!

“No! Let me go!” Yuko screamed. Any trace of rational thought had all but disappeared. “No! I’d rather die here than let you kill me! Let me go! Let me go!”

Whatever he thought in reaction—or maybe he wasn’t thinking at all—his expression stayed the same, and he yelled, “Don’t move!”

Yuko gazed up at Shuya again—and realized the bandage under the silver collar covering his neck wound oozed with blood now dripping down his bare shoulder.

The blood dripped down his arm and reached her left hand.

“Ugh,” Shuya moaned. He gripped Yuko’s hand tighter. His face was breaking into a sweat. It wasn’t just his neck, his entire body was covered with severe wounds. Given how he was not only holding her entire weight with his right arm but attempting to pull her up, he had to be in incredible pain.

Yuko’s jaw dropped. Why? Why would you try to save me when you’re in so much pain? That’s—

Strangely enough, it suddenly all came to her. The black mist clouding her thoughts suddenly cleared as if blown away by the sea breeze blowing against her body. The image of Shuya holding the blood-soaked axe, looking down at Tatsumichi Oki’s corpse, suddenly vanished as if shredded by the wind, and all her previous (although it was only two days ago) memories of the Third Year Class B classroom along with the cheerful expressions of Shuya Nanahara came back to her. How he joked around with his friends Yoshitoki Kuninobu and Shinji Mimura, how he looked so serious repeating a difficult guitar line while practicing in the music room, how he posed triumphantly at second base after making a perfect hit down the third base line during gym class, which she managed to see from the gym where she was playing volleyball. And then when she was pale from menstrual cramps, how he’d gently said to her, “What’s wrong, Yuko? You look pale,” interrupted their English teacher Mr. Yamamoto, and called on the nurse’s assistant, Fumiyo Fujiyoshi. How he looked so concerned then.

Oh no. Yuko finally understood the situation. This is Shuya. Shuya is trying to save me. I… why? Why did I have to think I had to kill Shuya? Why did I believe that? It’s Shuya. And I always thought he was kind of cool… that he was really nice but no—

Then a different thought occurred to her. The action she took and its results. Yuko once again turned pale.

I… my mind was all screwed up… and… and that’s how I ended up—

Yuko burst into tears. Shuya saw this and looked puzzled.

“Shuya!” she screamed. “I-it was me! I tried to kill you!”

Shuya looked surprised as Yuko looked up with despondent tears in her eyes.

“I-I-I thought you’d killed Tatsumichi… I saw you two… and I was scared. I was so scared. So I tried poisoning your food… but Yuka ended up eating it… and then everyone… everyone…”

Shuya then understood everything. Hiding in a nearby bush, Yuko had seen him extract the axe from Tatsumichi Oki’s head after fighting him. She didn’t see how Kyoichi Motobuchi and Shogo appeared afterwards. She’d only witnessed that one moment. She could have interpreted it as an act of self defense on Shuya’s part or as an accident, but Yuko was too frightened to trust Shuya. And so she poisoned the food to kill him, but Yuka ate this by mistake… and everyone panicked with suspicion. The culprit, Yuko, ended up being the only survivor.

“It’s all right!” Shuya shouted. “It’s all right, just don’t move! I’ll pull you up!”

Shuya was nearly lying flat on the balcony, his body jutting out between the bars, but because his left arm was useless, he couldn’t grab onto the railing. Still, he twisted his body, and finally managed to tuck his right knee up to his body so he could rely on his back. He did his best to hold onto Yuko’s wrist. The pain from the wounds all over his body, his side, his left shoulder, and the right side of his neck was mounting. But…

Her face soaked with tears, Yuko shook her head. “No. No. It was my fault everyone… everyone…” she said, and suddenly her hand began to pry his fingers loose. The tight grip he’d finally managed to get on her came loose. Shuya gripped tighter in response, but the blood dripping down from his neck suddenly made his hand slip.

Yuko’s hand left Shuya’s. The weight on Shuya’s arm suddenly vanished.

Yuko’s face receded—

With a thud, Yuko fell on her back onto the roof of the single-story building below. Instead of slipping from his hand, she seemed to have appeared there suddenly via time-lapse photography.

Her body wrapped in her sailor shirt and pleated skirt was sprawled out… and her neck was crooked, which made her head look oddly disjoined from the rest of her body. The top-right side of her head spurted out a red substance in the shape of a shriveled up maple leaf.

“Ah…”

Shuya stared down at her, his right arm still hanging over the balcony.

65

Hiroki Sugimura (Male Student No. 11) took a deep breath.

He’d heard the rapid gunfire approximately ten minutes ago. He’d been wandering around the northern mountain, but he quickly headed east toward the shots. Then… by the time he arrived it was already quiet at the lighthouse. He knew it was there from the map, but he assumed Kayoko Kotohiki would never hide there alone in such a conspicuous location, so he’d ignored it until now. He wasn’t sure whether this was where the gunfire occurred. He looked down from the cliff over the lighthouse and saw a girl lying on the roof of the brick annex by the lighthouse. Even from a distance he could make out the red color and see that she was dead. The short hair and petite body resembled Kotohiki, as Megumi Eto’s corpse did when he discovered it.

He slid down the edge of the cliff. As he descended, the corpse on the roof disappeared from view. He reached the front entrance of the lighthouse. There was a pile of chairs and desks beyond the open door. Someone had formed a barricade, but for some reason this barricade was also torn down. He looked at the window that was sealed shut with planks and cautiously walked down the hall. (There was a room with a bed right by the entrance, and for some reason its door had been knocked down.) His detector responded. Six. Hiroki proceeded cautiously and stood frozen in the room splattered with blood.

The bodies of five girls were scattered all over what appeared to be a kitchen. There was the female student representative Yukie Utsumi on her back by the center table. To her right was Haruka Tanizawa, her head nearly torn off (!). And further down Yuka Nakagawa, whose face had turned nearly black. Chisato Matsui was lying face down in front of the side table to his right, her pale blue face turned his way. And then one more girl was lying face down behind the table, covered in blood.

The four girls, including Yukie, were clearly dead. But this one whose face he couldn’t see was…

Hiroki cautiously checked the room once again. He listened for any sounds beyond the opened door on the other side of the room. There didn’t seem to be anyone else hiding.

He tucked the gun in his left hand in back, walked between the bodies of Yukie Utsumi and Haruka Tanizawa, passed by Yuka Nakagawa’s body, and walked around the table. The soles of his shoes splashed against the blood all over the floor. He crouched down beside the girl lying face down, put aside the stick in his right hand, and lifted her body. He felt a sharp pain from the wound in his right shoulder where Mitsuko Souma had struck him. The gunshot wound Toshinori Oda had inflicted on his thigh though was only a scrape, so there wasn’t much bleeding or pain there. Hiroki tried to ignore the pain, in any case. He turned over the body.

It was Satomi Noda. There was a red hole in the left side of her forehead, and her glasses, though crooked, managed to stay on her face. The left lens probably shattered when she fell. Of course she was dead.

Hiroki put her down and looked over at the opened door on the far side of the room. That was where the tower was. That led up to the lantern room.

The other person on the detector was that girl on the roof. She was no doubt dead as well, but he had to check and make sure it wasn’t Kayoko Kotohiki.

Hiroki took his gun and entered through the door. There was a steel staircase. He quickly climbed them with hushed footsteps. Someone might still be up there. He held the stick and radar in his right hand, checking it as he went up.

There were no new responses as he came out into the lantern room. Hiroki put the radar in his pocket, tucked his gun also in back, and came out onto the balcony around the lantern room.

He put his hand on the steel railing. He took a deep breath, leaned over the railing, and looked down.

There was the corpse in the sailor suit. Her neck was twisted in an odd way and blood spread out from under her head, but the corpse wasn’t Kayoko Kotohiki’s. It was Yuko Sakaki.

Still.

He gazed at the sea. There was a strong breeze. Six girls had all died here at once. There were no guns in the room, but given how they were wounded and how the walls and floors were ridden with bullet holes, he was certain the gunshots he’d heard had occurred here. The most logical scenario was that the girls somehow got together and cooped themselves up here, but then someone attacked them. The five girls were shot down there first, and then Yuko Sakaki managed to get this far and fell to her death without being attacked by the assailant. Then the assailant left before Hiroki got here.

But given how they’d formed a barricade at the entrance—the planks nailed over the windows, every entry point probably sealed—why would they tear the barricade down? Did the assailant shove it away as he left? But then how could he or she have entered in the first place? Could there have been seven of them? And one of them had suddenly betrayed the rest—no, revealed his or her true intentions? No, that can’t be. The other thing was that Yuka Nakagawa didn’t look like she died from gunshots. She looked like she’d been choked. The blood splattered all over the table also didn’t make any sense. How could that large amount of blood end up there? There was more. The door to that room right next to the entrance. Why was it torn down?

There was no use trying to figure it out. Hiroki shook his head, checked the roof of the building, and returned to the lantern room.

As he descended the steel spiral staircase in the dim tower and gazed at the inner walls of the lighthouse, Hiroki felt a light sensation of vertigo as if the spiral movement of the stairs were internalized. It might have been from fatigue, but still…

So now there were six students less. Sakamochi said there were fourteen students left, as of the noon announcement. Then there were at most eight students left now.

Was Kayoko Kotohiki still alive? Wasn’t it possible she might have died between noon and now in some area he didn’t know about?

No, Hiroki thought, she has to be alive.

Even though he could hardly justify it, for some reason he was nearly certain. Eight students remaining, possibly even less. But I’m alive, and so must be Kotohiki. This is taking too much time. It’s been a day and a half since the game began, and I still haven’t managed to find Kotohiki. But… I will eventually. Once again he was nearly certain.

Then he thought of Shuya’s trio. None of their three names had been announced. Shogo Kawada had said, “If you’re up for it, you can come aboard our train.”

Was there really a way out? And would he really be able to reach that station with Kotohiki? He wasn’t sure. But at the very least he wanted Kotohiki to board that train.

Shall I offer you a hand then, mademoiselle?

It sounded like something Shinji Mimura would have said. Now he saw how Shinji could be good friends with Yutaka Seto. Shinji liked to kid around. The jokes were different from Yutaka’s, of course. They were more sarcastic and at times biting. Shinji seemed to value “the importance of laughing it off.” At the closing ceremony before New Year’s, when they were in their second year, during the regional education representative’s dull speech, Shinji said, “My uncle once said laughter is essential to maintain harmony, and that that might be our only release. Do you understand that, Hiroki? I still can’t quite get it.”

Although he could relate to it a little, he also felt he didn’t fully get it. It might have been because he was young. But in any case Shinji Mimura and Yutaka Seto were both dead now. He could no longer give Shinji a reply.

As he pondered these thoughts, soon enough he was back in the kitchen filled with five bodies. Once again Hiroki looked over the room covered in blood.

He hadn’t noticed because of the stench, but now he saw the gas stove pot and caught a whiff of the appetizing odor. There was no gas of course, so they were probably in the middle of cooking using solid fuel. He went to take a look. The flame under the pot was out, but there was still steam rising from what looked like stew.

Ever since the game began he’d only had the bread the government had supplied (when he ran out of water he retrieved some from a house well), so he was famished, but he shook his head and peeled his eyes off the pot. He just couldn’t bring himself to eat it. Not in this terrible room. Besides, he had to hurry and find Kotohiki. Hurry up and leave.

He staggered out into the hall. Not having slept at all, he was feeling dizzy.

Someone was standing at the entrance at the far end of the long corridor. Because the hall was dim, this person looked like a silhouette outlined from behind by the light.

Hiroki leaped to his side before his eyes could even open wide and crashed his way into the kitchen. All at the same time, flames came bursting from the silhouette’s hands. A row of bullets raced past the tips of Hiroki’s feet flying out of the hall.

Hiroki grimaced from the sudden surprise. He got up, crouched, and then closed the door and locked it.

The gunfire sounded familiar. It was the sound he’d heard before and after that incredible explosion. After he escaped Toshinori Oda, he heard the sound of gunfire behind him—it was whatever killed Toshinori Oda. It was also the gunfire he’d heard when Yumiko Kusaka and Yukiko Kitano were killed. He’d heard the gunfire several other times. It all came from “that classmate.” Like Hiroki, the assailant had probably come here after hearing gunfire. Or maybe the student was here to kill the assailant who’d killed Yukie Utsumi’s group. Or maybe—the assailant himself was returning.

Kneeling down on the floor, Hiroki reached around his back and gripped his gun with his left hand. He’d found the bullets in the day pack Mitsuko left behind, so it was now fully loaded, but he couldn’t find an extra magazine. Maybe Mitsuko had put it in her pocket. Colt Government .45 Single-Action Automatic. Seven rounds in the magazine, plus one in the chamber. He couldn’t afford to reload the bullets individually. The moment he did he’d be wasted by the assailant’s machine gun or any other gun on him or her.

His back against the wall, Hiroki looked at the kitchen where the girls’ corpses were. Unfortunately, the windows were sealed with planks from the inside. It would take too much time to tear them off and escape. He looked over at the door leading to the tower. No, that was impossible. It was too high for him to jump off the top of the lighthouse. It would be insane. He’d end up sun bathing right next to Yuko Sakaki. No, wait—what was this “someone” trying to do? Was he tiptoeing behind the door, approaching, or was he taking his time waiting for Hiroki to come out? No, he had to be in a rush too. He had to get rid of Hiroki before he might be shot from behind by someone else arriving as a result of the gunfire.

Hiroki was right. The wood around the doorknob was blown to bits. (In fact, several of the bullets exiting the door tore off the shoulder and side of Chisato Matsui, who was lying directly in front of the door.)

The door crashed open.

The dark figure leaped into the room.

As it tumbled over once and got up, Hiroki realized it was Kazuo Kiriyama (Male Student No. 6). Ignoring the corpses in the room, he pointed his machine gun to the side of the door which was his blind spot, and immediately began firing away.

After five or six bullets tore through the wall the gunfire stopped… because he saw no one there.

Now was his chance. Hiroki swung his stick up and leaped onto Kazuo Kiriyama from above. At the last instant he’d decided to climb to the top of the high shelf installed beside the door. He’d decided against using the gun since he wasn’t used to it and had tucked it away again. The important thing was to stop the assailant—who turned out to be Kazuo Kiriyama—from shooting anymore.

Kazuo responded by looking up. He lifted the muzzle of his machine gun, but the handle of the broom Hiroki held struck Kazuo’s wrist. The Ingram M10 9mm crashed onto the floor, slid, and stopped beyond the table where Satomi Noda was.

Kazuo tried to pull out another gun (it was a large automatic pistol, different from the revolver Toshinori Oda had), but Hiroki, who’d landed and balanced himself, quickly swung the tip of his stick and struck this gun down too.

A rapid assault! I’ll strike him down!

The stick came swinging down, but Kazuo quickly bent back and somersaulted backwards. He leaped over Yukie Utsumi’s body with the grace of a kung fu master, and after tumbling once he was standing in front of the center table. By the time he was standing he had a revolver in his right hand, the one that belonged to Toshinori Oda.

But even Kazuo couldn’t have foreseen Hiroki’s agility. He’d immediately moved within eighty centimeters of Kazuo.

“Yahh!” Hiroki swung his stick, striking the gun in Kazuo’s hand three times. It flew into the air. Before it landed on the floor, the other end of Hiroki’s stick swung at Kazuo’s face. There was a table behind Kazuo. He couldn’t retreat anymore.

But the stick stopped several centimeters before hitting Kazuo’s face. A third of the stick flew by Kazuo’s face. Strangely enough, he only heard it crack later. Kazuo had chopped off the stick with his left hand.

The next moment, Kazuo formed a spear fist with his right hand to strike Hiroki in the face. He was aiming for Hiroki’s eyes.

It was a miracle he managed to duck and dodge it. That was how fast Kazuo’s fist was.

But Hiroki had managed to dodge it. When he dodged it, he grabbed Kazuo’s wrist with his hand that had dropped the stick. The next moment, he twisted his wrist back. Simultaneously, he kneed Kazuo in the stomach with all his might. The absolutely calm Kazuo gasped slightly.

With his left hand restraining Kazuo’s arm, Hiroki pulled out his gun and cocked the hammer back. He pressed the gun against Kazuo’s stomach and pulled the trigger.

He kept on pulling the trigger until he used up all his bullets. With every shot Kazuo’s body flinched.

When the gun’s breechblock held up, the eighth shell fell onto the floor with a clink, rolled, and then clicked against another shell.

He could feel Kazuo’s right arm and the rest of his body slowly going limp. His slicked-back hair and the rest of his head fell forward. Once Hiroki let go, Kazuo’s body would slide against corner of the table and fall onto the floor.

But right now Hiroki stood still facing Kazuo as if dancing a strange dance, panting, his chest heaving.

I won.

He won against the Kazuo Kiriyama. The Kazuo Kiriyama whose athletic prowess was probably superior to Shinji Mimura or Shuya Nanahara’s, who’d never lost a fight as far as he knew. He’d defeated him.

I defeated—

Suddenly a sharp pain pierced the right side of Hiroki’s stomach. He groaned, gasped, then opened his eyes wide.

Kazuo was looking up at Hiroki. And in his left hand was a knife digging into Hiroki’s stomach.

Hiroki slowly shifted his eyes from this hand over to Kazuo’s face. Kazuo stared back with eyes that were as always beautiful and cold.

How… could he still be alive?

Of course it was because Kazuo Kiriyama was wearing Toshinori Oda’s bulletproof vest, but Hiroki couldn’t have known, and right now there wasn’t much point trying to figure this out.

Kazuo twisted the knife and Hiroki moaned. His left hand’s grip on Kazuo’s right wrist was loosening.

Oh no, this is not good… at all.

But Hiroki managed to squeeze some strength out into his arm. He swung down his right hand that was still holding the emptied gun.

His bent right elbow struck Kazuo’s lower chin.

Kazuo flew back and slid across the white table covered with blood. The blood stain that resembled the Republic of Greater East Asia’s national flag now looked more like the stripes of the American flag. Simultaneously, the knife in Hiroki’s stomach, after tearing off approximately thirty grams of Hiroki’s flesh, was torn out. Blood came bursting out. Hiroki gasped, but immediately turned on his heel and ran to the door leading out to the hall.

Right as he was entering it he heard gunfire, and the door frame cracked open. Kazuo didn’t have any time to pick up the guns scattered on the floor. So he must have had a fourth gun (probably attached under his pants, tied to his ankle or something).

Hiroki ran, ignoring the gunfire.

He leaped over the scattered pile of chairs and desks. Right before he emerged outside he heard that all-too-familiar machine gun fire, but the shots missed him because he was crouched over.

The sky was cloudy enough to expect rain, but for some reason it looked bright to him.

Hiroki ran as fast as he could into the grove beyond the gate where the light truck was parked. He left behind a trail of red spots on the white sand.

He heard the machine gun rattle again, but by then he’d leaped into the grove.

Of course he couldn’t afford to rest now.

66

It began to drizzle. Rain washed over the bushes covering the island, and in the dim light a dark sheen fell through the drops of water and thick clouds.

Shuya slowly wove his way through the bushes. The area to his right was open and offered him a view of the sea, which was dull gray behind the white curtain of rain.

He now wore his shirt, school coat, and sneakers, which he found in the room where Yukie’s group was. Raindrops falling off tree branches dripped onto his coat. He had the Uzi slung over his shoulder, his right hand on the grip, and kept the CZ75 tucked in front. The Browning and the bullets he’d collected were inside the day pack on his shoulder.

Shuya left the lighthouse immediately, and as he’d expected fifteen minutes later, right when he began collecting wood to build a fire on a cliff near the northern tip of the island, he heard gunfire coming from the lighthouse. Despite the fact that the massacre of Yukie’s group had occurred inside the lighthouse, he surmised at least two students had arrived upon hearing the shots and ended up fighting.

After some hesitation, Shuya started heading back to the lighthouse. It sounded like the all-too-familiar gunfire of Kazuo Kiriyama’s machine gun. He doubted Noriko and Shogo would go out of their way to follow the gunfire, but there weren’t too many students left. Supposing one was Kazuo, there was a good chance the other was Hiroki Sugimura. Of course, it also could have been Mitsuko Souma.

But the gunfire ceased immediately. Shuya stopped. He decided not to return to the lighthouse after all. Even if he went back, there wouldn’t be anyone there. Or at best there might be another corpse in addition to the bodies of Yukie’s group.

It began raining when Shuya had finished preparing two fires on the cliff rock. He found a lighter in the lighthouse, but it was difficult to get the fire going because of the rain.

The rain grew heavy, so Shuya gave up and left the area. Noriko and Shogo probably hadn’t moved much. C-3 was forbidden, but the adjacent D-3 and C-4 were still safe. They were probably in that area, so he could make another fire once he was in the vicinity.

With this thought in mind he began walking. That was when we heard the distant chirping sound of a bird as he turned westward on the north shore of the island around 2:30 p.m. Shuya listened closely and quickly glanced down at his watch. The seconds hand moved seven degrees, and the faint chirping stopped. Shogo had said fifteen seconds. Given the time it took for him to look at his watch, its duration corresponded to that length of time. Besides, he doubted there were many birds chirping in the rain. And he heard none of those little birds that he’d heard during the day ever since the game began.

Shuya continued along the northwest shore of the island—and once again heard the same chirping. This time it was clear. Exactly fifteen minutes had elapsed since the last one—and it stopped exactly fifteen seconds later. It was Shogo. There was no need for the smoke signal. Shogo was using the bird call. The third fake chirping occurred only three minutes ago. It sounded close. According to the map, Shuya was moving from B-6 to B-5.

Shuya rested a little, tucked the Uzi’s barrel under his left wrist, and lifted his left arm. It was easier that way because he didn’t have to exert his muscles. The watch hands, out of focus from the raindrops against the glass, indicated it was 3:05 p.m.

The chirping sounded closer to the mountain than it was to the sea. Shuya glanced at the sea, then moved towards and then up the gentle slope. As he looked up, he noticed that the northern mountain in front of him looked different, which made him realize he’d been moving along the foot of the mountain and was now approaching the western shore.

Just a little more. He’d barely covered 1.5 kilometers, but he still felt woozy from all the blood he’d lost. The pain in his body was so severe he felt like throwing up—he really had to stop and rest. But he was almost there. Almost.

He made his way through the grove and his fatigue became overwhelming. Of course… he could be attacked at any point from the bushes. But he couldn’t afford to worry about that. If that happened he would just have to pull the trigger of the Uzi.

The low bushes became sparse and then were cut off. Shuya stood still. It wasn’t as if there was someone holding a gun, but there was something strange in this narrow opening.

At first it looked like two stiff gray clumps to Shuya. On top of that, they seemed to be moving. He stared at them. There were black pants and sneakers poking out of these two clumps.

He realized they were corpses. Two boys had died here.

A flash of red color flew up from the stiff gray clump and cried, “KAW!” It was a large heron-sized bird, its head drenched in red. The birds were feeding on the corpses!

Shuya reflexively raised his Uzi at them. He put his finger against the trigger—but decided against it. He walked over.

The birds flapped their wings and flew away from the two corpses.

Shuya stood still in the rain by them… and lifted his right hand up to his mouth. He felt a sudden urge to vomit.

It was a chilling sight. The birds had picked away at their exposed faces. Their red flesh broke out of their skin. They were covered in blood.

Shuya held back his nausea and somehow managed to look at them. He saw they were probably Tadakatsu Hatagami and Yuichiro Takiguchi. Then he noticed something about Tadakatsu’s face, which was in worse condition than Yuichiro’s. The birds weren’t responsible for his deformed skull. His nose, unharmed by the birds, was also crushed.

He looked around and found a bat lying on the grass. Even though it was washed by the rain, the tip of the bat was still tinged with red. Given the state of Tadakatsu’s face, he was most likely beaten to death. With the gear of his sport— a baseball bat.

Compared to him, Yuichiro’s face was in relatively good shape. Of course… Shuya had a feeling his lips and eyeballs were gone by now.

One of the birds landed on top of Tadakatsu’s face. Then several more birds came by. Given how Shuya remained frozen, they probably assumed they were safe.

Safe? You got to be kidding!

Shuya once again put his finger on the trigger of the Uzi… but restrained himself. The important thing was for him to get back to Shogo and Noriko.

More birds reappeared.

Were they feeding on the other bodies sprawled all over the island? Or was it just because they were near the sea?

Peeling his eyes off the two corpses, Shuya staggered around them and entered the bushes ahead. He heard the birds cry, “KAW!”

As he moved, he felt the urge to vomit once again. By now he was getting used to people dying, but the thought of these birds, these sky rats, feeding on them… I’ll never sit on the beach and gaze peacefully at seagulls again. Even if I write my own songs, I’ll never ever sing about birds. I might not even be able to eat chicken for a while. Man, birds… suck.

But then he heard that chirping sound again. He looked up. Large raindrops hit his face.

Ah—birds suck but… I guess a little bird’s all right, huh?

Another full fifteen seconds passed and the chirping ceased. This time it sounded really close.

Shuya looked around. The bushes continued along the gentle slope. It must be around here. They had to be somewhere near here. But where?

Before he could think, the nausea he’d held back surged up. The two corpses, their faces messed up. And their soft flesh would be the birds’ afternoon snack. Yummy.

I can’t puke. I’m weak enough as it is… but…

Shuya knelt down on the ground and vomited. Because he hadn’t had anything to eat, it was all gastric juices. There was a sharp, acidic stench.

Shuya threw up more. A pinkish substance was mixed into the yellow liquid like a drop of paint. For all he knew, his stomach might be screwed up by now.

“Shuya.”

He looked up. Reflexively, he pointed the Uzi over there. But the muzzle fell again.

Between the shrubs he saw that thuggish face. It was Shogo. In his left hand, Shogo held a bow which seemed to be carved out of wood, and in his right hand he was about to put down the arrow fixed to the bow. That was when Shuya realized, oh, I get it, I must have gotten caught on Shogo’s tripwire.

“Hangover, huh?” Shogo said. His humorous remark was tinged with kindness.

There was a rustling sound. Noriko appeared behind Shogo. She gazed at Shuya through her rain-drenched hair, her eyes and mouth trembling.

Pushing Shogo aside, Noriko dragged her leg as she ran to him.

Shuya wiped his mouth and staggered up. He released the Uzi and extended only his right hand, hugging Noriko. On impact Noriko’s body sent a jolt of pain through his side, but he didn’t care. They were having their reunion right above some fresh puke, but that didn’t matter either. Her body against him felt warm in the cold rain.

Noriko looked up. “Shuya… Shuya… I’m so glad… I’m so glad…” She was crying. Tears came streaming out of the corners of her eyes along with the raindrops falling against her face.

Shuya gently smiled. Then he realized he was on the verge of crying too. Too many people have died… too many people have died in this game, but how wonderful, how incredibly wonderful these two were still alive.

Shogo came up to him and offered his right hand. For a moment Shuya was puzzled by the gesture… but then he understood. He reached out his hand over Noriko’s shoulder and held it. It was, as always, a large, solid hand.

“Welcome back,” Shogo said warmly.

67

Exposed rocks appeared where the woods headed toward the sea. Now a low wall formation of those rocks faced the sea. Shogo seemed to have worked on it with his knife. Two large branches had been stuck into the rock wall, and on top of them were leafy branches serving as a roof to block the rain. Raindrops came flowing off the branch tips.

After he was given strong painkillers that Shogo had brought from the medical clinic, Shuya told him about the lighthouse. Shogo boiled water in a can with charcoal, and its gurgling sound overlapped with the sound of pouring rain.

When Shuya was done, Shogo said, “I see.” He took a deep breath, and put another Wild Seven into his mouth. He held the Uzi in his lap. They decided it was best Shogo hold onto it. Shuya held the CZ75, and Noriko had the Browning.

Shuya shook his head feebly. “It was awful.”

Shogo blew out some smoke and removed the cigarette from his mouth. “Yukie forming such a large group ended up backfiring.”

Shuya nodded bitterly. “It’s so hard to trust someone.”

“Yes, it is.” Shogo looked down. “It’s very hard.” He continued smoking and appeared pensive. Then he said, “In any case, I’m glad you made it.”

Shuya recalled Yukie’s face. He was alive. He was alive thanks to Yukie’s group, but they were gone now.

Shuya looked at Noriko, on his left. Hearing about the deaths of her friends Yukie Utsumi and Haruka Tanizawa must have been hard on her. Once she saw the water was boiling, she took out some dried bouillon Shogo must have found and tossed two cubes into the can. The smell of broth came drifting up.

“Can you eat, Shuya?” Noriko asked.

Shuya looked at Noriko and raised his brow. He knew he had to eat, but he had just thrown up—and besides the images of the stiff gray lumps around Tadakatsu Hatagami and Yuichiro Takiguchi still flashed through his mind. (He hadn’t told them about that. The “lumps” were at work only a hundred meters or so away from them. He only said that he threw up from the pain of his wounds.) He couldn’t work up an appetite.

“Eat, Shuya. Noriko and I already had lunch,” Shogo said, cigarette in mouth. His stubble had thickened. He grabbed the edge of the can with a handkerchief, poured the soup into a plastic cup, and offered it to Shuya.

Shuya took it and slowly put it against his mouth. The taste of broth spread through his mouth. Then the warm liquid slid down his throat and into his stomach. It wasn’t as bad as he’d expected.

Noriko offered him bread. Shuya took a bite. Once he started chewing, he was surprised to find he could eat. He ended up eating it all instantly. Regardless of the mental state he was in… his body had been starving.

“Would you like more?” Noriko asked and Shuya nodded. “A little more soup.” He raised the empty cup. Noriko refilled it this time.

Taking the cup, Shuya said, “Noriko.”

She looked up at him. “What is it?”

“Are you feeling all right now?”

“Uh huh.” She smiled. “I’ve been taking cold medicine. I’m fine.”

Shuya looked at the side of Shogo’s face. Shogo nodded, cigarette dangling between lips. He’d taken another antibiotic syringe kit from the medical clinic, but it turned out that was unnecessary.

Shuya turned around to Noriko again and smiled back at her. “That’s great.”

Then she asked the same question she’d been repeating over and over. “Shuya, are you really all right?”

Shuya nodded. “I’m fine.”

In fact, he wasn’t, but what else could he say? He could see over his cuffs how his left hand had grown pale compared to his right hand. He wasn’t sure whether it was due to his shoulder wound or elbow wound. Or it might simply be because the bandage was too tight around his elbow. He felt his left arm get stiffer and stiffer.

He had another sip of the soup and put the cup down by his feet. Then he called Shogo.

Shogo, who was checking the Uzi, raised his brow and looked at Shuya. “What is it?”

“It’s about Kazuo.”

As he contemplated the events that had occurred since yesterday, the question that had been occupying him right before he split up with Shogo and Noriko suddenly came back to him. The gunfire he’d heard right after he left the lighthouse also reminded him. As he’d yelled out before, “What’s the hell’s he doing!?”—meaning, what kind of person was Kazuo Kiriyama?

As far as he could tell, Kazuo wasn’t the only one willing to participate. Tatsumichi Oki, whom Shuya had fought, possibly Yoshio Akamatsu, and if Hiroki was right, Mitsuko Souma might also be in the same category. But Kazuo was absolutely merciless. His coldness and calmness. The strange vibe he always got from Kazuo suddenly exploded in this game and assaulted them. Shuya once again recalled the flames erupting from the machine gun, and the cold eyes behind them. He felt a chill run down his spine.

Shogo remained silent, so Shuya continued, “W-what’s up with him? I just don’t get it.”

Shogo looked down and tinkered around with the Uzi’s safety device, equipped with a full-auto/semi-auto switch.

Didn’t Shogo say there was no need to understand? Shuya wondered whether Shogo would give him the same reply.

But Shogo had a different response this time. He looked up. “I’ve seen people like him before.”

“In the previous game?”

“No.” Shogo shook his head. “Not there. Totally outside of this game. You see a lot of things when you’re the son of a doctor working in the slums.” Shogo took out another cigarette and lit it. He exhaled and said, “A hollow man.”

“Hollow?” Noriko asked.

“Yeah.” Shogo nodded. “There’s no place in his heart for logic or love, no. For any kind of values. That kind of person. On top of that, there’s no reason for the way he is.”

No reason, Shuya thought, or did he mean he was just born that way? That’s—

Shogo took a puff and exhaled. “Hiroki warned us about Mitsuko Souma, right?”

Shuya and Noriko nodded.

“We still haven’t seen for ourselves whether Mitsuko’s really up for this game. But from what little I’ve seen at school, I think Mitsuko and Kazuo are similar. The only difference is that Mitsuko’s abandoned all reason and love. There was probably something behind that. I have no idea what it was. But Kazuo doesn’t have any cause. The difference is crucial. There’s no explanation behind Kazuo.”

Shuya stared at Shogo and mumbled, “That’s scary.”

“Yeah, it’s scary,” Shogo agreed. “Just think about it. It’s probably not even his fault. Of course you can say that about anyone. But in his case he probably could never grasp ‘an unknown future.’ Nothing could be more terrifying than to be born that way.”

“What I mean is that, even a dumb ass like me can think everything’s pointless. Why do I get up and eat? It all ends up shit anyway. Why am I going to school and studying? Even if I happen to succeed I’m going to die anyway. You wear nice clothes, you seek respect, you make a lot of money, but what’s the point? It’s all pointless. Of course, this kind of meaninglessness might suit this crappy nation. But, you see, we still have emotions like joy and happiness, right? They may not amount to much. But they fill up our emptiness. That’s the only explanation I have.

“So these emotions are probably missing from Kazuo. He’s got no foundation for values. So he merely chooses. He doesn’t have a solid foundation. He just chooses as he goes. Like for this game he might just as well have chosen not to participate. But he decided to. That’s my little theory.”

He said all of this at once and then concluded, “Yeah, it is scary that someone could live a life like that—and that we have to take on someone like that right now.”

They fell silent. Shogo took one more drag from his shortened cigarette and then rubbed it out against the ground. Shuya took another sip from his cup of soup. Then he looked up at the cloudy sky over the edge of Shogo’s thatched roof.

“I wonder if Hiroki is all right.”

He’d mentioned the gunfire he heard after he left the lighthouse. He was still worried about it.

“I’m sure he’s all right,” Noriko said.

Shuya looked at Shogo. “I wonder if we’ll be able to see any smoke.”

Shogo nodded. “Don’t worry. We can see smoke coming from anywhere on this island. I’ll check periodically.”

Shuya then remembered the bird call. It led him to them. But why did Shogo have such an odd thing to begin with? He was about to ask him when Noriko said, “I wonder if Hiroki met up with Kayoko Kotohiki.”

“If he did, we’d be seeing smoke,” Shogo answered.

Noriko nodded and then mumbled, “I wonder why he had to see Kotohiki.”

This came up when they were in the medical clinic. Shuya’s response was the same. “Beats me.”

“They didn’t seem all that close.”

But then Noriko said, “Oh,” as if she’d realized something.

Shuya looked up. “What?”

“I don’t know for sure.” Noriko shook her head. “But maybe…” She emphasized her last vowel. Shuya knit his brows.

“Maybe what?”

“That would be—”

Shogo interrupted them. Shuya looked over at him. Shogo was tearing the seal off a new pack of cigarettes and continued, his eyes glued to the pack, “…too corny… in this fucking game.”

“But…” Noriko continued, “…it’s Hiroki, so…”

Shuya looked back and forth at them, utterly perplexed.

68

Kayoko Kotohiki (Female Student No. 8) was hugging her knees in the bushes. She was on the southern slope of the northern mountain, in sector E-7.

Evening was approaching, but the light coming through the bushes didn’t change much. It just stayed dark. In the afternoon, the area was covered with thick clouds, and just two hours ago it finally began raining.

Kayoko wrapped a handkerchief around her head to shield herself from the rain. Thanks to the branches over her, the rain didn’t hit her directly, but her shoulders were drenched. She was cold. And of course more importantly, she was terrified.

Kayoko had first hidden on the eastern side of the northern mountain peak, in sector C-8. So of course she witnessed Yumiko Kusaka and Yukiko Kitano getting killed in front of her very own eyes. She held her breath. She knew that their killer was near, but she instinctively thought she would be risking more by moving. She stayed absolutely quiet. As noon and then night passed, she managed to avoid any attacks.

She moved twice in accordance to the forbidden zone announcements. The second time she moved was immediately after noon today, because the southern side of the peak, sector D-7, was going to become forbidden at 1 p.m. So the northern mountain peak was now surrounded by three forbidden zones. Her allocated area was definitely shrinking.

She hadn’t met anyone yet. She heard a lot of gunfire, sometimes in the distance, sometimes near. She even heard an explosion, but she just remained still and absolutely quiet. The announcement every six hours made it clear though, the number of her classmates was steadily diminishing.

At noon there were supposedly fourteen remaining. And then there was more gunfire. Was it now just twelve? Or ten?

Since the beginning of the game, Kayoko put the heavy gun (Smith & Wesson M59 Automatic, manual included, but Kayoko of course could care less about the gun’s name) down by her feet and massaged her right-hand fingers with her left hand. She’d been holding the gun all this time, and now the muscles in her fingers had gone numb. The palm of her hand was flushed red and imprinted with the gun-grip pattern.

She was completely exhausted, both from sleep deprivation and the threat of attack. Because she was too scared to enter a house that might be occupied, the only food she ate was the bread and water that came supplied with her day pack. She was hungry and thirsty. Her water intake was grossly inadequate. She did her best to save the supplied water and only drank over a liter since the game began. If there was one good thing about the rain, it was that she could collect water by putting the recently emptied water bottle under a dripping branch, but it wasn’t even a third full. She would intermittently remove the handkerchief from her head and wet her dry lips with it, but of course this did nothing to relieve her dehydration.

Kayoko let out a long, weary breath, combed back her short, shoulder-length hair, and took up the M59 again. She was in a daze.

As she sat, dazed, she thought of that face again. She kept on thinking of that face ever since the game began. He wasn’t as familiar as her parents and older sister, whom she thought of as well, but he was very important to her.

She just began learning tea ceremony when she first saw him at an event conducted by the school where she attended tea ceremony class. It was the fall of her first year in junior high.

Sponsored by a government park for an autumn holiday, the tea ceremony was held outdoors for tourists. The actual practitioners performing that day were all adults, so Kayoko and other students her age took care of menial tasks, like arranging outdoor seating and preparing biscuits. He was one of the masters of the tea ceremony.

He arrived around noon, much later that day. He was good-looking, but he still looked boyish, as if he were still a college student. Kayoko thought, oh, this guy must be helping out too. But he addressed Kayoko’s teacher (a 42-year-old woman) at her seat, “I’m sorry I’m late,” took her place, and prepared the tea.

His preparation was very impressive. He handled the tea whisk and bowl incredibly gracefully, and his posture was impeccable. Despite his age, he didn’t look odd in traditional clothes.

Kayoko put her tasks on hold and was gazing at him when someone tapped her on the shoulder. She turned around and saw her senior in the Tea Ceremony Club at Shiroiwa Junior High, the one who’d invited her to attend the tea ceremony school.

“He’s pretty hot, huh? He’s the grandson of the headmaster. Well, to be more accurate, he’s the master’s mistress’ grandson. I’m a fan too. I mean, basically I’ve been going to tea ceremony class just to meet him.”

The senior informed her how he was nineteen years old, and how after graduating from high school he was already ranked as an instructor with many disciples. Kayoko’s only reaction at the time was, Oh, he’s from another world, so there’re people like him. That was all but then…

She began spending more hours in front of the mirror whenever there was a tea ceremony school event, or whenever she knew he would be appearing as a guest in her class. Given her age she didn’t use makeup, but she did wear her traditional kimono immaculately, kept a comb in her hair, and carefully inserted her favorite dark-blue hair clip. Her flowing brows, and although not very large, curved eyes, and although short, well-shaped nose, wide lips, nicely shaped at the center, she thought, sure, I might not be stunning, but I do look pretty mature….

The reason she fell head over heels for this man adored by adolescent girls to middle-aged women alike may have been pretty simple. After all, he was handsome and intelligent, cheerful and considerate—basically the kind of ideal man you hardly believed existed. On top of that, he apparently didn’t even have a girlfriend.

Kayoko had two important encounters with this man, although from someone else’s perspective they might not have seemed all that special.

The first one occurred at the tea school’s demonstration ceremony the spring she became a second-year junior high school student. The ceremony was held at the headmaster’s home in Shido-cho near Shiroiwa-cho. Almost immediately after the event began, there was a problem. A special guest, the central government’s regional cultural representative, suddenly began complaining about the tea ceremony. It wasn’t the first time. They were government officials who announced their “absolute loyalty to preserve the nation’s absolute sanctity,” but many of them in fact abused their power. Some would even request kickbacks in return for arranging increased national traditional arts funding which the headmaster would politely refuse, so this could have been a way to get back at them by stirring up trouble.

The problem was that the headmaster was absent because he was hospitalized. The heir who substituted for the headmaster and his heir were both so completely intimidated their incompetence could have led to the school being shut down. But the nineteen-year-old master saved the day. He took the belligerent official to another room, then returned alone and said, “The official has left. He seems satisfied now, so there’s no need to worry, everyone.”

He said no more, and the attending established members of the school also refrained from inquiring any further. As a result the rest of the ceremony proceeded smoothly. But Kayoko was concerned. Knowing him, he could very well have assumed full responsibility, saying something like, “I am in charge of today’s ceremony,” and if that were true then the official could get back at him by concocting a report and arranging his arrest for being a malign influence against the government (and as a result sending him to one of those “reeducation camps”).

After the ceremony came to an end with no further interruptions, they began to clean up the area, and she waited for him to be alone. When he went to move the seat cushions, she decided to call on him.

“Sir…”

He stopped, still holding the cushions, and elegantly turned around towards Kayoko. His sad eyes made Kayoko’s heart race, but she managed to continue, “Is everything all right, sir?”

He seemed to understand what she was getting at and broke into a smile. Then he said, “I appreciate your concern. It’s all right though.” Her concern was suddenly eclipsed by the thrill she felt in having her first real conversation with him.

“B-but that government official looked so mean. What if—”

He stopped Kayoko and said something sophisticated, as if admonishing her. “That official doesn’t necessarily get a kick out of doing what he does. I’m sure this kind of thing happens all over the world. But the way this country is, it twists people. We’re supposed to strive for harmony and that’s what the art of tea is supposed to accomplish… but it is very, very difficult to achieve in this country.” Near the end, he almost seemed to be addressing himself. Then he looked back at Kayoko and continued, “Tea ceremony is powerless. But it’s also not such a bad thing either. You should enjoy it while you can.” He smiled kindly, turned, and proceeded to walk away.

Kayoko was in a daze and stood still for a while. The unpretentious way he talked made her feel at ease… and even though she didn’t completely understand what he was saying, it impressed her, and she thought, wow, he’s so mature.

In any case, she might have made an impression on him because ever since that encounter he would always give her a warm smile whenever they met.

The second crucial encounter occurred during the winter of her second year. Kayoko came out into the old temple garden of another tea ceremony and gazed at the camellia flowers there. (In fact, she was thinking about him again.) Suddenly she heard suddenly someone from behind say, “They’re beautiful,” in a transparent voice now familiar to her. At first she thought she’d imagined it, but when she turned around she couldn’t believe he was there—and smiling at her. It was the first time he addressed her without any reference to teaching tea ceremony or official duties.

And so they had a conversation.

“So you find tea ceremony interesting?”

“Yes, I love it. But I’m not very good.”

“Really? I’ve been impressed with your excellent posture during your preparation. It’s not just that your back is upright. There’s a kind of intensity.”

“Oh, no, I’m really no good at all….”

With his hands tucked inside his sleeves, he still wore his kind smile and glanced up at the camellia. “No, I really do mean it. Yes, just like those flowers. There’s something strained, but there’s beauty in that. Something like that.”

Of course, she was still just a child, and he might have only been complimenting a hobbyist dabbling in the school’s tea ceremony. But that didn’t stop her from getting excited. Right on! (She snapped her fingers only later in the bathroom.)

From that point on Kayoko began to practice tea ceremony more seriously. She thought, I can do it. Of course, I’m still just a kid, but once I’m eighteen he’ll be twenty-four. That would totally work….

And so that was her memory of him.

Kayoko buried her face into her skirt. A warm liquid which wasn’t rain oozed into the area covering her kneecaps. Kayoko realized she was crying. Her hand holding the gun trembled. How could all this be happening?

She wanted so badly to see him now. Sure, she was still a kid. But in her own adolescent way, she really did love him. This was the first time she ever had serious feelings for someone. She wanted a single moment with him so she could tell him this much. She wanted to tell this person—kind enough to describe her as “beautiful” even if it was only referring to her tea ceremony skills—“I’m still a kid, so I may not understand what it really means to be in love. But I think I am in love with you. I really love you.” Something like that.

Something rustled in the bushes. Kayoko looked up. She wiped her eyes with her left hand and got up. Her feet moved automatically and took a step back from the source of the sound.

A boy in a school coat—Hiroki Sugimura (Male Student No. 11). His face and torso emerged from the bushes. The sleeves of his coat and shirt were torn off, revealing his right arm. The white cloth wrapped around his shoulder was stained with blood and—perhaps it was because of the rain—it oozed pink. And his hand was holding a gun.

Hiroki’s jaw dropped, but what really caught her attention when she saw his grimy face were his eyes. They were gleaming.

Kayoko felt a sudden surge of fear. How could she have not noticed sooner before he got this close. How—

“Kotohiki—”

Kayoko let out a shriek and turned on her heels. She entered the bushes. She didn’t care about the branches scraping against her face and hair, or getting drenched in the rain. She just wanted to escape. He’ll kill me!

She made her way through the bushes. There was a twisting path approximately two meters wide. Kayoko instinctively decided to run down there. If she ran uphill, he would catch up, but if she ran down then maybe…

She heard a rustling sound behind her. “Kotohiki!” It was Hiroki’s voice. He’s coming after me!

Kayoko summoned all her strength from her tired body and ran as fast as she could. I can’t believe this, I should have been jogging instead of learning tea ceremony if I’d known this was going to happen.

“Kotohiki! Stop! Kotohiki!”

If she had been calmer—that is, if this were a scene in a movie and she were in the theater watching the actor performing as she munched on some popcorn—then it would have been obvious he was pleading with her. But right now it sounded like he was saying: “Kotohiki! You better stop! I’m gonna kill you!”

She wasn’t going to stop. The path forked. She took the left one.

The area opened up on her left. Rows of tangerine trees spread out in the dull light coming through the silky rain. Beyond them was a thicket of short trees. If she could enter that area—but no, it’s impossible, she thought. She had at least fifty more meters to get there. It was hopeless. While she struggled through the uneven rows of tangerine trees, Hiroki Sugimura would catch up to her and shoot her from behind with his gun.

Kayoko clenched her teeth. She didn’t want to, but she had to. After all, he was trying to kill her.

She stopped on her right foot and spun around to her left.

By the time she had turned around the gun was in her hands. That thing called the safety had been released ever since she’d read the manual. The manual said you didn’t have to raise the hammer, all you had to do was pull the trigger. The rest was up to her.

Less than ten meters away, Hiroki Sugimura stood still on the slope, his eyes wide open.

It’s too late. You think I won’t shoot?

Kayoko extended her arms and squeezed the trigger. With a pop, a small flame exploded from the muzzle, and her arms jerked back from the recoil.

Hiroki’s large frame spun around as if he were hit. He fell back.

Kayoko ran over to him. She had to finish him off, finish him off! So he wouldn’t get back up again!

Kayoko stopped approximately two meters away from him. There was a small hole in the left side of his chest (she’d actually aimed at his stomach), and the fabric around it had turned dark black. But his sprawled right hand still held his gun. He still might raise it. The head. I have to aim for his head.

Hiroki turned his head around and looked at Kayoko. Kayoko pointed the gun and pulled the trig—

She stopped.

Hiroki had tossed his gun aside. If he’d had that kind of strength he could have pulled the trigger. What was going on?

The gun spun around once and landed on its side.

Huh?

Kayoko stood still, holding the gun, her short hair drenched in the rain.

“Now listen.” He lay on the messy path ridden now with puddles as he said painfully, somehow fixing his eyes on Kayoko, “You have to burn some fresh wood. Build… two fires. I have a lighter in my pocket. Use that, then you’ll hear a bird call.”

Kayoko heard him, but she had no idea what he was talking about. She had no idea what was going on.

Hiroki continued. “Follow that bird call. Then you’ll find Shuya Nanahara… Noriko Nakagawa, and Shogo Kawada. They’ll help you. You got that?”

“W-what?”

Hiroki seemed to be smiling. He repeated patiently, “Build two fires. Then find the bird call.”

He awkwardly moved his right arm, pulled out a small lighter from his school coat pocket, and tossed it over to Kayoko. Then he painfully closed his eyes.

“Okay, now go.”

“What?”

Hiroki suddenly opened his eyes wide and yelled, “Go now! Someone might have heard the shot. Go!”

Then as if fitting the pieces of a complex jigsaw puzzle into place, Kayoko finally managed to get it. This time she got it right.

“Oh… oh…”

She dropped the gun and fell on her knees beside him. She scraped her knees but she didn’t care.

“Hiroki! Hiroki! I-I can’t believe… I can’t believe I did this to you!”

She burst into tears. Sure, there was something intimidating about Hiroki Sugimura. He seemed tough since he studied martial arts, plus he didn’t talk much, and when he did he was always gruff. When he spoke to other boys, like Shinji Mimura and Shuya Nanahara, he would smile but otherwise he looked grumpy. She also heard he was going out with Takako Chigusa, and they looked so close. Kayoko only thought, I don’t get Takako’s taste, I wonder maybe if you’re that pretty, you’re attracted to someone intimidating. That was her impression of him. So in this situation where her classmates were being killed off one by one she was absolutely terrified of Hiroki Sugimura. But then it turned out…

He closed his eyes again and said, “It’s all right.” He was smiling. He looked content. “I was going to die soon anyway.”

Kayoko then finally noticed he had another wound on his side, soaked in liquid that wasn’t rain.

“So go now. Please.”

Kayoko sobbed convulsively and touched his neck gently. “Let’s go together. Okay? Stand.”

Hiroki opened his eyes and looked at her. He seemed to be smiling. “Forget about me,” he said. “I’m just glad I got to see you.”

“What?” Kayoko opened her tear-stained eyes wide. What? What did you just say? “W-what do you mean…” Her voice was trembling.

Hiroki exhaled deeply, as if to bear the pain, or maybe it was a long sigh. “If I tell you, will you go?”

“What? I don’t get it. What do you mean?”

Hiroki said without hesitating, “I love you, Kotohiki. I’ve loved you for a real long time.”

Kayoko once again didn’t understand Hiroki. What’s he talking about?

Hiroki continued. He was looking up at the sky raining down on them. “That’s all I wanted to tell you. Now… go.”

“But I thought you and Takako—”

Hiroki looked into her eyes again. He said, “You’re the one.”

She finally got it. She was blown away as if struck by a huge wrecking ball swinging from a demolition crane.

Love, me? You wanted to tell me… don’t tell me you were trying to find me? Is that true? If so… then what did I just do?

Her breath was raspy. She kept on getting choked up, but finally she managed to cry out, “Hiroki! Hiroki!”

“Hurry,” Hiroki said and coughed out a mist of blood, spraying Kayoko’s face. Hiroki opened his eyes again.

“Hiroki… I… I… I…”

Her body was supposedly dehydrated from lack of water, but the tears kept on gushing out.

“It’s all right,” Hiroki said kindly. He closed his eyes slowly. “Kayoko—” he called her by her first name as if it were a precious treasure. It was probably the first time he had ever called her by her first name. “I don’t mind at all… dying because of you. So please, please go. Or else…”

Kayoko kept on crying, waiting for Hiroki to continue. Or else?

Hiroki didn’t say anything. Kayoko slowly reached out for him. She held his shoulders and shook them. “Hiroki!

In a TV drama when someone died their words would be cut off, like, “Or el—” but Hiroki managed to say in a painful but clear voice, “Or else.” So there had to be more. Or else…

“Hiroki! Hey, Hiroki!”

Kayoko shook his body one more time. Then she finally realized he was dead.

Once she realized this, the dam restraining her torrent of emotions suddenly collapsed. A shriek was welling up inside.

“AHHH!” On her knees, Kayoko fell over Hiroki’s body and cried.

He loved me… he loved me so much he sought me out at the risk of being attacked. Any encounter could have led to an attack on him. In fact, the wound in his side, the wound on his shoulder… came as a result of him trying to find me.

No, there’s more. Kayoko stopped sobbing for a moment.

I was the one who attacked Hiroki. At the very end, when Hiroki managed to achieve his goal.

Kayoko shut her eyes and cried again.

He loved me… just like I wanted to tell that guy how I felt about him, Hiroki was thinking the same thing about me, looking for me. Someone in my class cared for me that much. And yet, and yet…

Suddenly, Kayoko recalled a scene. It was when they were doing their cleaning tasks. Kayoko was wiping the blackboard with a wet rag and when she couldn’t reach the top, Hiroki, who had been slacking off, rested his chin against his hands that were holding the upright broom as if it were a cane, and said, “You’re too short, Kotohiki.” He took the rag from her and wiped the area she couldn’t reach.

The scene came back to her.

Why didn’t I see how kind he was? How could I not notice how someone loved me so much? If I’d thought about it, I would have realized if Hiroki wanted to kill me he could have immediately shot me with his gun. But I couldn’t tell. I wasn’t able to understand. I am so stupid. I—

Another memory came flashing by.

When she was telling some of her classmate friends about “that guy,” Hiroki, who was nearby looking out the window, muttered, “You’re being foolish, getting so worked up like that.” It made her mad at the time, but in fact he was right, she was being foolish. And yet… and yet Hiroki told her he’d cherished this fool.

She simply couldn’t stop crying. She pressed her cheek against his warm cheek and continued to sob. Hiroki told her to go, but she couldn’t bring herself to do that. I’m going to keep on crying, I’m going to cry over the dedication (it was irreplaceable) of this boy who loved me and my foolishness (I was such a kid thinking I was actually in the running for “that guy”), I’m going to keep on crying. Even if it was suicidal in this game.

You plan on dying with him? A voice whispered to her in her thoughts.

Yes, I’m going to die with him. I’m going to die for the sake of Hiroki’s love for me and my foolishness.

“Then why don’t you go ahead?” the voice said.

Kayoko suddenly trembled and turned around. She saw the long, beautiful, rain-drenched hair of Mitsuko Souma (Female Student No. 11), gazing down at her, gun in hand.

BAM BAM, two dry pops formed two holes in Kayoko’s right temple. Kayoko’s body then landed on Hiroki Sugimura’s body.

Blood slowly began flowing out of the holes in her head. The blood continued flowing down her face against the rain washing it away.

Mitsuko lowered the Smith & Wesson M19 .357 Magnum and said, “You really were a fool. You should have understood him.”

Then she looked over at Hiroki’s face.

“Long time no see, Hiroki. Are you glad you got to die with your beloved?”

She shook her head, disgusted, and proceeded to walk forward to pick up the Smith & Wesson M59 Kayoko dropped and the Colt Government .45 (which had been Mitsuko’s) Hiroki had tossed aside.

She looked down at the intertwined bodies and put her finger against her lips.

“Now what was that about building a fire?”

Then she shook her head. With her foot she brushed away Kayoko’s skirt covering part of the M59 and reached for the blue gun, when she suddenly heard the rattling sound of an old typewriter.

69

Her back was pummeled, repeatedly. Her chest burst open with blood. She staggered and felt something hot expand inside her, like burning embers.

She didn’t feel so much the painful shock as she felt dismayed. How could she not have heard someone sneaking up behind her in this mud?

The bullets had done enough damage, but Mitsuko managed to turn around.

There was a boy in a school coat. The unique slicked-back hair, the well-defined face, the gleaming, frigid eyes. It was Kazuo Kiriyama (Male Student No. 6).

Mitsuko squeezed her right hand holding the M19. Her muscles were nearly disabled, but she summoned all her remaining strength and attempted to raise the gun.

Suddenly Mitsuko’s thoughts—despite the fact that she was in a life-or-death confrontation—slipped into another dimension. It only lasted for a split second.

When I spoke to Hiroki Sugimura I said:

“I just decided to take instead of being taken.”

That’s what I said.

When did I become like that? Was it after the time I told Hiroki about, when I was raped by three men? That day I was raped by those men with the video camera in a rundown apartment room in the shabby outskirts of town? Or maybe the moment my drunken mother (I never had a father) left the room when she received the thick envelope (it couldn’t have been that thick) after taking me to that room before “it” happened? From then on? Or… was it after my elementary school teacher, the one person I thought I could trust, kindly addressed me, nearly numb from trauma, and I finally told him exactly what happened, when the look on his face changed, and it happened again? From that point on? In that small, dark reading room after school? Or after my best friend saw it (at least part of it) and instead of offering consolation, spread a rumor (which led to the teacher leaving the school)? Or was it three months later when I resisted my mother, who was trying to take me to do “it” again and accidentally ended up killing her? After getting rid of all the evidence and doing everything to make it look like a break-in, I sat on a swing in the park. From that point on? Or after being taken in by distant relatives, I was repeatedly harassed by their kid, and when the kid accidentally fell from the roof, the mother accused me of killing her since I was with her? From that point on? The father intervened and defended me, but then after a while, this father started fooling around with me. From that point on? Or…

Little by little—no, more like in big chunks, everyone took from Mitsuko. No one gave Mitsuko anything. And so Mitsuko ended up an empty shell. But…

…that didn’t matter.

I am right. I will not lose.

Her arms were suddenly strengthened, and she lifted the gun. The tendons in her wrist rose up, resembling violin strings. Then she pulled the—

The rattling Ingram M10 in Kazuo Kiriyama’s hands fired away a row of four holes that ran from her chest up to the middle of her head. Blood sprayed out of Mitsuko’s mouth. Her upper lip tore. She bent backwards.

Still Mitsuko managed to smile. She regained her footing and pulled the trigger. Over and over.

The four bullets from the chamber struck Kazuo Kiriyama’s chest.

But Kazuo remained calm as he staggered only slightly. Mitsuko didn’t understand why. Kazuo’s Ingram then fired away again.

Mitsuko’s face, once so beautiful, was torn up as if a strawberry pie had been flung into her face. This time her body was blown back—and the next moment she fell back onto the wet ground. By then she was dead. In fact, she may have been dead a while ago. Physically, several seconds ago, mentally, ages ago.

Kazuo Kiriyama walked up to her slowly, and then calmly removed the gun from her hand. He also picked up the Colt Government .45 lying by Hiroki Sugimura’s hand and the M59 Kayoko Kotohiki had tossed aside. He didn’t even bother glancing at the three rain-drenched bodies.

70

Mizuho Inada (Female Student No. 1) cautiously looked out from the shade of the bushes. Due to the relentless rain her neatly cropped hair stuck to her forehead.

Beyond the bushes there was a narrow farm field, and through the light sheet of rain she saw the back side of a school coat in the middle of the field. His slicked-back hair was also wet from the rain. It was Kazuo Kiriyama (Male Student No. 6).

Kazuo Kiriyama had formed what appeared to be two piles of branches. Now he sat arranging one of the piles.

Mizuho calmed her breathing. It was cold, and she was tired, but she didn’t really mind. After all, she was about to execute her most important mission…

…as a space warrior.

Are you ready, warrior Prexia Dikianne Mizuho?

In her mind, the God of Light Ahura Mazda asked her this. Apparently, this voice came from the spindle-shaped magic crystal (in fact the mail order item was made of glass but Mizuho believed it was crystal) she wore.

Of course, Mizuho responded. I saw that demon walk away after killing Yumiko Kusaka and Yukiko Kitano. I lost track of him, but just found him. And I saw him kill that other demon who killed Kayoko Kotohiki. I must defeat this enemy. And I have followed him this far.

Very well then. So you understand your mission?

Of course, sir. I received your message from the local fortune teller, that I would become a warrior destined to fight evil. I didn’t understand what it meant at the time. But now, now I understand completely.

Are you not scared?

No, sir. With your guidance I have nothing to fear.

You are a surviving member of the Holy Dikianne Tribe. You are a chosen warrior. The light of victory will shine upon you soon. Hm? What is it?

No, no. It’s just that, great Ahura Mazda, my fellow warrior, Lorela Lausasse Kaori was killed—in their former Class B classroom, Kaori Minami, who spent some time hanging out with Mizuho Inada, would restrain herself from yawning every time Mizuho told her, “You’re the warrior Lorela,” but whatever—She…

She fought to the very end, Mizuho.

Ah. Oh, I thought so. But, but, she was defeated by the evil forces.

Uh, well, yes. Well, that was because she was a mere commoner in origins. You are different. In any case, let’s not fuss over the details. The important thing is that you must fight for her sake. And you must win. All right?

Yes, sir.

Okay then. The light. You must have faith in the cosmic light. The light that engulfs you.

The light grew inside her. The great warm cosmic power that encompassed everything. Mizuho nodded again in her brief repose. Yes. Yes. Yes.

Then she pulled the double-bladed knife—when she found the weapon in her day pack she thought it most becoming for a warrior—out of its sheath. She held it up in front of her face. A white light covered the blue blade, and Mizuho looked at Kazuo beyond the light.

She saw Kazuo’s back. It was wide open.

Now then. You must cut down the enemy!

Yes!

In order to keep quiet, Mizuho dodged the bushes and dashed towards Kazuo. A light burst out from the short blade that had been barely fifteen centimeters in length, and it suddenly transformed into a legendary sword at least one meter long. This sword of light would pierce the evil monster with a single thrust.

As Kazuo Kiriyama adjusted the branches with his left hand, his right hand calmly pulled out the Beretta M92F. Without even turning around, he reached around and pulled the trigger twice.

The first shot hit Mizuho in the chest, stopping her, and the second shot went right through her head.

Mizuho fell back as her wounds burst into gently curved red lines drawn through the air. The rain immediately began washing away the blood. Then the warrior Prexia Dikianne Mizuho’s soul transmigrated to the Land of Light.

His back still facing her, Kazuo Kiriyama put away his gun and continued arranging the branches.

71

It continued to rain. Shuya was slouched against the wet rock wall as he watched the rain dripping off the edge of the thatched roof. He heard rapid gunfire. Then about five minutes ago he heard gunfire again, this time two single shots. Both times it didn’t sound too close, but it didn’t seem too far away either. It was probably somewhere in the northern mountain, where they were camping.

A large raindrop slid along one of the “roof” leaves and fell by Shuya’s stretched out foot wearing Keds sneakers, splashing against the muddy water.

“Maybe Hiroki likes Kotohiki.”

That’s what Noriko had said. “If I were him, I would have done the same thing.” She glanced at Shuya. “I would find the person I cared about.”

Was it true? Did Hiroki like Kayoko Kotohiki? Why, when he was so close to the prettiest girl in their class, would he be into a Plain Jane like Kayoko?

Well, maybe that’s how it was. After all, Billy Joel sang, “Don’t imagine you’re too familiar… I’ll take you just the way you are.”

Then who was involved in those rounds of gunshots he just heard? The second series of shots sounded like it was just one assailant shooting away. If he were to include the gunfire he heard immediately after leaving the lighthouse, it meant he’d heard guns go off three times since noon. (This wasn’t including what happened to Yukie Utsumi’s group.) It would be reasonable to assume at least three people had died. Then there were only five left? Which three got killed? Or maybe no one died at all, maybe there were just confrontations, and everyone managed to escape each other. Then eight students, including Shuya’s group, were left.

“Are you tired, Shuya?”

They were sitting next to each other in a row, but Shogo, who was on the other side of Noriko, asked, “Maybe you should sleep a little.”

Shuya looked back at them. “No.” He gave a smile. “I slept a lot until noon. I bet you haven’t had much sleep.”

Shogo shrugged. “I’m fine. But Noriko. She didn’t sleep at all waiting for you.”

Shuya looked over at Noriko, but she waved her palms at Shuya and smiled. “That’s not entirely true. I dozed off a little here and there. Shogo’s the one who hasn’t slept for my sake.”

Shogo chuckled and shrugged. Then he held his right hand up to his chest in a salute and said, “I shall always guard you, Your Highness.”

Noriko grinned, touched his hand, and said, “The honor is mine, Shogo.”

Shuya raised his brow and observed their interaction. It was odd how close Noriko and Shogo seemed now. Ever since the game began, Noriko seemed to speak to Shogo mostly through Shuya, but now things seemed different. They seemed like a good pair on their own. It was only natural though, given how they’d spent over half a day without Shuya.

Shogo suddenly pointed at Shuya and said, “Uh oh. Shuya’s getting jealous.”

Noriko opened her eyes wide and looked at Shuya. She smiled and said, “No…”

Shuya blushed a little. “I am not. What are you talking about?”

Shogo shrugged. He raised his brow and said to Noriko in mock exasperation, “He says he trusts you, out of love.”

Shuya wanted to say something, but he was speechless. Shogo began laughing. Clacking up, really. Despite the urge to protest, Shuya ended up going along with it and chuckled too. Noriko was smiling too.

It was a brief but wonderful moment. It was the kind of conversation and laughter you’d share with your longtime friends, hanging out with them after school at your favorite cafe Of course, looming over them was the feeling that they were all here only after attending a friend’s funeral.

Still smiling, Shogo looked down at his watch and went outside to check again for a signal from Hiroki.

Noriko grinned and looked at Shuya. “Shogo likes to kid around.”

Shuya smiled. “Yeah, but…” He squinted at the open space.

I might have been jealous.

Shuya looked back at Noriko again. He was about to tell her in a joking way, “I may have been jealous.” Then Noriko would probably laugh and say, “Yeah right.”

Shogo returned to the front of the roof. His stubbly face was moist with raindrops. “I see smoke,” he said and immediately turned around.

Shuya quickly got up. He helped Noriko up with his uninjured right arm. They walked to where Shogo was standing.

The rain was light now, so he could make out the smoke drifting in the sky. As he followed Shogo’s eyes… he saw a white column of smoke on the opposite side of the northern mountain. Two columns, in fact.

“Right on!”

Without thinking, Shuya gave a little holler out as if singing a rock and roll song. His eyes met Noriko’s. Noriko, no less enthusiastic, broke into a grin and said, “So Hiroki’s safe.”

Shogo took out the bird call from his pocket and teaked it as he observed the smoke. The cheerful chirping of a little bird rose and spread out into the rain covering the island. As he continued, Shogo checked his watch. Fifteen seconds later he stopped.

Shogo then looked over at them.

“Let’s wait a little more here. My guess is he won’t hear this sound unless he’s close. It’ll take time.”

They returned underneath the roof.

“Hiroki probably found Kayoko,” Noriko said. Shuya was about to nod but stopped when he saw Shogo’s mouth stiffen. Noriko also stopped smiling.

“Shogo,” Shuya said.

Shogo looked up. Then he shook his head. “It’s nothing. I just think things might not be what they seem.”

“Huh? But…” Shuya raised his opened right palm. “Hiroki would never give up though.”

Shogo nodded. “That might be true.” He stopped and then looked away from them. “But he might have only found Kayoko Kotohiki dead.”

Shuya’s face became tense. He was right. Kotohiki seemed to be alive up until noon… but there was all that gunfire. They’d just heard those single shots. After searching around for two weeks, Hiroki might have ended up discovering Kayoko Kotohiki had died.

Shogo continued, “Or there might have been a totally different outcome.”

Noriko asked, “What do you mean?”

Shogo took out a pack of cigarettes and answered curtly, “It’s very possible Kayoko didn’t trust Hiroki.”

Shuya and Noriko both fell silent.

Shogo lit his cigarette and continued, “Well, in any case, let’s just hope Hiroki can make it back here. We’ll see then whether he’s with Kayoko or not.”

Shuya was hoping Hiroki would return with Kayoko Kotohiki. Then there would be five of them. Five of them could escape.

Only five.

Shuya then recalled that Mizuho Inada was still alive, at least she had been at noon.

“Shogo.”

Shogo glanced at Shuya.

“Inada is still alive. I wonder if we can’t contact her.”

Shogo shrugged. “I keep on saying this, but it’s best not to trust the others too much in this game. To be honest, nothing against Hiroki, but I don’t necessarily trust Kotohiki either.”

Shuya bit his lip. “I know but—”

“Well, if we can afford to, then I’ll come up with some way to contact Mizuho, but,” he blew out smoke, “don’t forget, we may not be around to do that.”

Shogo had said, “At the very end. Once everyone else is dead, there’s a way out.” That meant no matter what, they would have to confront Kazuo again and also take on Mitsuko Souma. He wasn’t sure about Mitsuko, but there would be no way around fighting Kazuo. There was no way Kazuo could die easily, which meant that everyone in Shuya’s trio might not survive fighting him.

Shogo puffed on his shortened cigarette and said, “I’m going to ask you again, Shuya.” He exhaled a puff of smoke and continued to stare at Shuya, “Even if we manage to hook up with Hiroki, we’re probably going to have to fight Kazuo again and Mitsuko. Are you prepared to be merciless?”

So that’s what it came down to. They could afford to contact Mizuho Inada only after they’d defeated Kazuo and Mitsuko. Although he wasn’t comfortable with how he’d gotten used to the idea of killing his classmates no matter how extreme the circumstances were…

Shuya nodded and responded, “I am.”

72

Shogo tweaked the bird call. It was the third time. The rain was now lightening up, and the drops falling off the edge of the roof became less frequent. The time was already past 5 p.m.

After he heard the same bird sound four times Shuya managed to join up with Noriko and Shogo. But that was because he had some idea of their location. It could take Hiroki longer to find them since he didn’t have that information.

Shogo returned under the roof and lit a Wild Seven.

He blew out smoke and asked out of the blue, “Where do you want to go?”

Shuya looked at Shogo, who was sitting on the other side of Noriko. Shogo turned towards him.

“I forgot to mention it, but I have a connection. Once we get out of here we can stay there for the time being.”

“Who’s that?” Shuya asked and Shogo nodded.

“A friend of my dad’s,” he continued. “He’ll see to it that you get out of this country… I’m assuming you’ll want to do that. You’ll get killed if you stay in this country. You’ll be hunted down like rats.”

“Escape the country,” Noriko said, surprised. “We can really do that?”

Shuya also asked, “Who’s this friend of your father’s?”

Shogo looked at them, as if considering something as he held the cigarette to his mouth with his left hand. He removed the cigarette from his mouth and said, “Right now isn’t a good time to tell you.” Then he continued, “In case we end up splitting up during our escape it’d be bad if either of you get caught and share our plans with the government. It’s not that I don’t trust you. But once they torture you, you’ll eventually end up confessing. So I’ll be in charge of getting us there.”

Shuya thought about it and then nodded. It seemed like he was making the right call.

“But, let’s see,” Shogo said. He bit his cigarette and pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket.

It looked like the sheet on which they’d all written that statement, “We shall kill each other.” Shogo tore it in two and then scribbled onto both pieces. He folded them up neatly and offered one to Shuya and the other to Noriko.

“What’s this?” Shuya asked and began opening it up.

Shogo stopped him, saying, “Hold on. Don’t look at it now. It’s our contact method, just in any case. The time and locations are written on it. Go to that place and time every day. I’ll do my best to get there too.”

“We can’t look at it now?” Noriko asked.

“Nope,” Shogo said. “Look at it only in case we end up splitting up. In other words… your note and Shuya’s have different information. It’s best you two don’t know what’s on each other’s note. Just in case one of you gets caught.”

Shuya and Noriko looked at each other. Then Shuya turned to Shogo. “I’m going to be with Noriko no matter what.”

“I know I know,” Shogo grinned wryly, “but we can’t rule out the possibility you might get separated again, like you were when Kazuo attacked us.”

Shuya pursed his lips and looked over at Shogo… but ended up nodding. He exchanged glances with Noriko and put away the memo. So did Noriko.

It was true. Anything could happen. Escaping this island in the first place was going to be incredibly difficult. But if that were the case then shouldn’t he and Noriko also come up with their own place and time to meet? Without telling Shogo? Then again, if Shogo ended up getting caught by the government then their situation would be hopeless anyway.

Shogo asked, “So where do you want to go?”

Shuya recalled how Shogo wanted to know their ideal destinations once they fled the country. He folded his arms and thought about it. Then he said, “It’d have to be America. It’s where rock came from. I always wanted to go there, at least once.” He thought, I didn’t think I’d be escaping there, though.

“I see.” Shogo nodded. “What about you, Noriko?”

“I don’t really have anywhere in mind but…” Noriko said and glanced over at Shuya.

Shuya nodded back. “Let’s go together. All right?”

“Oh…” Noriko’s eyes opened wide. Then she formed a smile and nodded. “Sure, if you’re all right with that.”

Shogo smiled. He took another drag from his cigarette and asked, “What will you do once you get there?”

Shuya thought about it. Then he answered with a grin, “I’ll be busking with my guitar. At least I’ll make some change.”

Shogo chuckled, “Huh.” Then he said, “You best be a rocker. You’re talented. From what I hear, in that country the odds aren’t stacked so high against you even if you’re an immigrant or exile.”

Shuya took a deep breath and gave him a skeptical grin. “I’m not that talented. I don’t have what it takes to be a pro.”

“I don’t know about that.”

Shuya smiled and shook his head. Then he looked over at Noriko. “What about you, Noriko? Anything you want to do?”

Noriko pursed her lips. Then she said, “I’ve always wanted to be a teacher.”

Her reply caught Shuya by surprise since he’d never heard about it. He exclaimed, “Really?”

Noriko turned to look at Shuya and nodded.

“You wanted to be a teacher in this lousy country?”

Noriko grimaced, “There are good teachers too. I…” she looked down and continued, “I thought Mr. Hayashida was a good teacher.”

It had been a while since Shuya recalled the corpse of Mr. Hayashida, whose head was half crushed. “Dragonfly” died for their sake.

“You’re right,” Shuya agreed.

Shogo said, “It might be difficult to become a teacher as an exile. But you might be able do research at some university. Ironically enough, the rest of the world seems very interested in this country. Then you might be able to teach.” He continued staring ahead, then tossed his cigarette butt into the puddle by his feet. He put another cigarette in his mouth and lit it. He continued, “So you should go for it, both of you. Be what you want to be. Follow your heart and give it your best shot.”

Shuya thought what he said was kind of cool. Follow your heart. Do your best. The way the late Shinji Mimura would also say something sometimes that hit the mark.

Then he realized something.

“What about you?” He asked anxiously, “What are you going to do?”

Shogo shrugged his shoulders. “I told you. It’s payback time against this country. No, that’s not it. They owe me, and they’re going to pay me back. No matter what. I can’t join you guys.”

“No!” Noriko said with anguish.

Shuya responded differently, though. He clenched his teeth and said, “Let me join you.”

Shogo looked at Shuya for a moment. Then he looked down and dismissively shook his head. “Don’t be stupid.”

“Why not?” Shuya said insistently. “You’re not the only one with a grudge against this fucking country.”

“That’s right,” Noriko insisted. Her response surprised Shuya. Noriko looked at Shogo and continued, “We’ll do it together.”

Shogo looked at them. He heaved a deep sigh. He looked up and said, “Look. I think I told you before that this country might be fucked up, but it’s well run. It’s almost impossible to take it down. No, I’d say it’s absolutely impossible right now, but I…” He turned around and then looked beyond the roof at the sky turning white from the receding rain. Then he looked back at them. “To use a cliche, I just want to take a stab at it. I’m getting back at them. I’m only doing it for my own sake, which isn’t such a bad thing.” He stopped and then said, “No, it’s not bad at all.”

“So then—” Shuya said but Shogo interrupted him, raising his hand.

“I’m not done.”

Shuya shut up and let him speak.

“I’m saying you’ll die if you join me. You just said you’re going to be with Noriko. Which means…” He looked at Noriko. Then he looked back at Shuya. “You still have Noriko. You protect her, Shuya. If she’s in danger then fight for her. Whether your assailant’s a burglar, the fucking Republic of Greater East Asia, or an extraterrestrial alien.” Then he turned to Noriko and said kindly, “You too. You still have Shuya, right? Protect him, Noriko. It’s foolish to die pointlessly.” Then he looked at Shuya again. “You understand? There’s nothing left for me. So I’m just doing it for my sake. It’s different for you guys.” The last statement sounded adamant. He checked his watch, tossed another cigarette into the puddle, got up and went out from under the roof. The chirping bird call rang out.

As he listened Shuya recalled a song by a mainland Chinese rocker that went: “Perhaps you are saying/You love me even though I have nothing at all.”

But what did Shogo mean when he said he had nothing?

After tweaking the bird call for exactly fifteen seconds, Shogo went back underneath the roof and sat down.

Noriko asked Shogo, gently, “Don’t you have someone you care about?”

Shuya had wanted to ask that too.

Shogo opened his eyes and then forced a grin. “I wasn’t planning on telling you, but…” he said and then took a deep breath. He continued, “No, maybe I did want to tell you.” He reached behind for his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He removed a photo with frayed edges.

Noriko took it. She and Shuya looked at it.

The photo included Shogo. He was wearing a school coat, and his hair was as long as Shuya’s. He was smiling, wearing a bashful smile that was hard to imagine on him now. And on his left was a girl in a sailor suit uniform. Her black hair was bundled over her right shoulder. She looked assertive, but her smile was incredibly charming too. In the background were a road, gingko-like trees, a whiskey billboard ad, and a yellow car.

“She’s beautiful,” Noriko exclaimed.

Shogo rubbed the tip of his nose. “Really? She’s not what you’d call typically beautiful, but I always thought she was pretty.”

Noriko shook her head. “Well, I think she’s very pretty and very… mature looking. Is she the same age as you?”

Shogo broke into a bashful grin that was reminiscent of the one he wore in the photo. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Shuya gazed at the two smiling faces next to each other in the photo and thought, hey, what do you mean you have nothing? But Shuya had overlooked something crucial.

“So is she in Kobe?” Shuya asked.

Shogo grimaced. He shook his head and said, “Remember, Shuya? I played this fucking game once before. And I was the ‘winner.’”

That was when Shuya realized. And Noriko probably did too. Her face stiffened.

“She was in my class. I wasn’t able to save Keiko.”

They fell silent. Shuya finally felt he could truly understand Shogo’s anger, the sheer depth of it.

“So you see now,” Shogo said, “I really have nothing. And it’s payback time against this country for killing Keiko.” Shogo put another cigarette in his mouth and lit it. Smoke drifted by.

“So her name was Keiko,” Shuya finally asked.

“Yeah,” Shogo gave several small nods.”’Kei‘ means ‘joy.‘”

Shuya realized it was same kanji character as the first character to Yoshitoki’s name.

“Were you,” Noriko gently asked, “with her until the very end?”

Shogo smoked silently. After a while he replied, “That’s a hard one to answer.” He continued, “Her last name was Onuki. The roll call started with No. 17 in that game. Whatever. Anyway, Keiko’s number came before mine, so she left three numbers before me.”

Shuya and Noriko listened quietly.

“I thought she might be waiting for me somewhere near the departure point. She just might be. But she wasn’t there. I mean it couldn’t be helped. Just like with this current game. It was dangerous to hang around the departure point.” He took a drag from his cigarette and exhaled. “But I finally found her. The game took place on an island like this one, but I found her.” He took another drag and exhaled. Then he continued, “But she ran away.”

Shuya was shocked. He looked at Shogo. His stubbly face remained calm. It seemed like he was doing his best to restrain his emotions.

“I tried chasing her, but I was attacked by someone else. I managed to kill that person… but I ended up losing sight of her.”

He took another drag and then exhaled.

“Keiko couldn’t trust me.”

He still wore his poker face, but there was a tense look in his eyes.

“But I still looked for her. The next time I found her she was dead.”

Shuya understood. Once he was back here Shuya had told them about Yukie Utsumi’s group and observed, “It’s so hard to… trust someone,” to which Shogo responded by saying, “Yes, it is. It’s very… hard.” Shuya now saw why Shogo looked so uneasy then. He also understood why Shogo said Hiroki might have found Kotohiki dead, or that she might not necessarily trust him.

“You asked me, Shuya,” Shogo said. Shuya looked up. “Why I trusted you guys, when we first met, right?”

“Yeah.” Shuya nodded. “I did.”

“And I believe I said you two made a nice couple,” Shogo said and glanced up at the roof. By the time he lowered his eyes, the tension in his cheeks was gone. “It’s true. That’s how you two looked. So I decided I wanted to help you guys out, unconditionally.”

“Uh huh.” Shuya nodded.

After a while Noriko said, “I bet…” Shuya looked over at Noriko. “She was just terrified… and confused.”

“No.” Shogo shook his head. “I-I really loved Keiko. But there must have something about the way I treated her when we were going out. That’s what I think it came down to.”

“That’s so wrong,” Shuya adamantly insisted.

Shogo looked over at him, his arms folded over his pulled-up knees. The smoke from the cigarette in his hands drifted up gently like silk.

“There was a misunderstanding. A small misunderstanding, I’m sure. Given how fucked up this game is. The odds were against you. That’s what it really came down to, right?”

Shogo grimaced wryly again and only replied, “I don’t know. I’ll never know.” Then he tossed his cigarette into the puddle and took out the bird call from his pocket.

“This…” he said, “Unlike most city kids, Keiko loved to go on mountain walks. The Sunday after the week that fucking game happened she was supposed to take me bird watching.” He raised the bird call between his right thumb and index finger up to his eyes and examined it as if it were a jewel. “She gave this to me.” He smiled and looked at Shuya and Noriko. “This is the only thing I have left of hers. It’s my lucky charm. Didn’t bring much luck, I guess.”

As he put it away, Noriko returned the photo. Shogo put it back in his wallet, which he tucked into his back pocket.

Noriko said, “Hey, Shogo.” Shogo looked up at her. “I don’t know how Keiko felt at the time. But…” She flicked her tongue against her lips to moisten them. “But I think Keiko loved you in her own way. She had to. I mean, she looks so happy in that photo. Don’t you think?”

“Yeah?”

“Of course, she did.” Noriko nodded. “And if I were Keiko, I would want you to live. I wouldn’t want you to die for me.”

Shogo grinned and shook his head. “Well, that’s just a difference in opinion.”

“But,” Noriko insisted, “please take it into consideration. Okay, please?”

Shogo’s lips moved as if he were on the verge of saying something, but then he shrugged and smiled. Sadly.

He checked his watch and went out from under the roof to tweak the bird call.

73

It had stopped raining completely by the sixth time Shogo tweaked the bird call. It was now 5:55 p.m., but the light which now seemed brilliant, compared to the preceding hours, enveloped the island. They removed the thatched roof from the rock wall.

After sitting against the rock wall, the open sky up above, Noriko said, “The sky’s clear.” Shuya and Shogo both nodded.

A soft breeze rustled by.

Shogo put another cigarette in his mouth and lit it.

Staring at Shogo’s profile, Shuya hesitated over whether he should bring it up or not. He decided to speak out. “Shogo.”

The cigarette dangling from one end of his mouth, Shogo looked up.

“What about you? What did you want to be?”

Shogo snickered as he exhaled. “I wanted to be a doctor. Like my old man. I thought at least a doctor could help people, even in this fucked up country.”

Shuya felt relieved. “Then why don’t you become one? You’re certainly talented enough.”

Tapping the ashes off his cigarette, Shogo shook his head, as if to say this discussion was over.

Noriko said, “Shogo.” He looked at Noriko. “I know I’m repeating myself, but I have to say it. If I were Keiko, this is what I’d say.” She looked up at the sky, now tinged with orange, and continued, “Please live. Talk, think, act. And sometimes listen to music…” She stopped, then she continued, “Look at paintings at times to be moved. Laugh a lot, and at times, cry. And if you find a wonderful girl, then you go for her and love her.”

It was poetic. Pure poetry.

And then Shuya thought, Oh. These are Noriko’s words. And words along with music had an incredible, holy power.

Shogo listened without saying a word.

“Because that’s the Shogo that I really loved.” Then she looked over at Shogo. She seemed slightly embarrassed, but added, “That’s what Keiko would have said.”

The ash on Shogo’s cigarette grew longer.

Shuya said, “Come on, Shogo. Aren’t there ways to tear up this country without dying? It might be a roundabout way but still…” He continued, “I mean we got to be such good friends. We’d really miss you. Let’s go to America, the three of us.”

Shogo fell silent. Then realizing his cigarette was burnt down to the filter, he tossed it away. He looked up at them. He was on the verge of saying something.

Shuya thought, come with us, Shogo. We’ll be together. We’re a team.

“Hey—”

It was the all-too-familiar voice of Sakamochi.

Shuya quickly lifted his left arm with his right hand and checked his watch. The muddy display read 6 p.m., exactly, five seconds past the hour.

“Can you hear me? Well, I guess there aren’t too many of you left who can hear. Now then, I will announce the dead. Now in the boy’s group…”

Shuya was already thinking. There were only four boys left, Shuya, Shogo, Hiroki, and Kazuo Kiriyama. (Of course the same was true with the girls, Noriko, Kayoko Kotohiki, Mitsuko Souma, and Mizuho Inada.) Kazuo couldn’t die so easily. And Hiroki had sent the signal. So none of the boys were dead.

“…we have only one. No. 11, Hiroki Sugimura.”

Shuya’s eyes opened wide.