After the fire had roared a little while,
After its fashion, the sharp tip moved
To and fro, and then breathed out these words:

'If I thought I was making my reply
To anyone who would ever go back to the world,
This flame would stay absolutely still;

But since no one ever came back alive
From this deep place, if what I hear is true,
I answer you without fear of infamy.'

[Inferno: Canto XXVII: 58-66]

The only reason Shogo bothered to turn up for classes like Home Economics was down to the occasional opportunity to make themselves food which could be taken home with them. Mrs Sato, the home economics teacher, was particularly keen on classes like these; she showed the kids what to do, they spent the next lesson trying to copy what she did, and she walked around at the end, eating what they made, and giving them all Bs. It was an easy lesson plan, and nobody really cared.

One of the main issues the class had with her, though, was her complete ignorance about who worked well together, and who didn't. Shogo had a feeling that she just paired people up at random, or pulled their names out of a hat. Or threw darts or something.

"Akamatsu and Oda. Iijima and Tanizawa." She reeled the names off crisply, like a military roll call. "Ooki and Nakagawa. Oda and… no, we've had him… which Nakagawa? Oh, that one. Sure, why not? Okay… Kawada and…"

Shogo's ears perked up.

"Kawada and Seto."

Shogo turned just in time to catch the colour drain out of Yutaka Seto's tiny face. Mrs Sato had not noticed (or cared) and continued reading the names out: Kiriyama and Shimizu (much to Hirono's displeasure)… Kuninobu and Inada (Kaori made a strange noise)… Kuramoto and Yamamoto (both seemed pretty awkward)…

As the list went on,. Shogo gathered his belongings together, and shuffled his chair sideward to get a little nearer to Yutaka, who still looked like he was going to knife the runt (or worse, fall on him).

The task was to make some sort of vegetable bake. Fry down the chewier vegetables, put them in a sauce, cover with potatoes and grill. As there were no meat or eggs involved, the chances of this class poisoning itself were minimal. Regardless, Shogo didn't feel reassured about being paired with Yutaka, whose very existence seemed to defy Darwin. The smaller boy was washing his hands compulsively under the sink, whilst Shogo tied one of the small school aprons to his chest.

"Lookin' good, Kawada," Hirono said with a small wink. She had re-styled her hair over the weekend; it was now a pale red, with occasional blonde streaks in it. There was something about the style that resembled Chigusa's dyed streaks, though Hirono pulled it off with casual rebellion.

"I always look my best," he said back with a small smile, rolling his sleeves up to the biceps.

"I'd suggest you take the shirt off and cook in just the apron," she teased, "but you're paired with Yutaka, and I wouldn't want to be near Yutaka when he's got a pan of hot oil."

The smaller kid resembled a rodent as he scuttled away from the two of them, and busied himself with some pots and pans.

It was easy enough to prepare. Shogo put Yutaka in charge of the pan, and chopped the vegetables up himself. The meal was supposed to serve four, but as long as Yutaka didn't burn the vegetables, they could split it equally between them, and Shogo could make it last two days.

"Seto, put these onions into the pan, please."

Yutaka, who was in the process of frying carrots, made a squeak as the onions entered the pan, and rose in a billow of steam.

"Reckon you might want to take over from him, before he blows something up," Hirono was no longer cooking her own meal, leaving the whole thing for Kazuo to prepare. She was now providing a running commentary of Yutaka, as though she were building up toward the inevitable catastrophe.

"Hirono, could you lay off him for a bit?" Shogo eventually said. "I'd quite like to eat this food at the end, and I don't want it on the end up over the floor."

"You're sticking up for Yutaka?" Hirono said, before something caught her eye. "Shogo, are you crying?"

He was indeed blinking away water. "Onions."

"We've got onions. I'm not crying," said Hirono, only for Kazuo to interrupt.

"There is a way to cut onions without releasing the relevant chemical," he explained. "I simply cut mine that way."

Kawada wanted to make a comment, but at that moment Yutaka screamed and clutched his own hand. It looked like he had burned himself on the fire. Shogo turned the heat down, then grabbed Yutaka's hand. "Lemme have a look at it."

Shogo ran his eyes over Yutaka's palm, concentrating on it as though trying to read it. "It's a bit nasty, but no lasting damage. Run it under cold water, and I'll get the teacher."

He looked round, only to notice that Mrs Sato was no longer in the room (she was the sort of teacher to vanish for twenty minutes at a time without warning). Sighing, he walked to the back of the room to where the first-aid kit is, and took it off the hook.

"Promise not to tell teacher?" Shogo said with a small smile, helping himself to the pack. It probably only needed a plaster and some gel, but the plasters all seemed way too small. "I'll put on some of this dressing on. Keep still."

Instinctively, he knew that Hirono was watching, but he paid her no further attention; Yutaka's eyes were looking deep into his own. "You… you know first aid?"

"Just enough," Shogo said with a modest, cheeky grin. "That feel better?"

"A lot, thanks," Yutaka replied, and Shogo noticed his eyes were watering for a reason that was probably not just onions. "I… you're not a bad guy, after all."

Shogo thought about replying, but he realised that, no matter what answer he gave, it would only be a half-truth. "Keep it dry, and leave it on overnight. Oh, and if it blisters, try not to pick at it, okay?"

Yutaka looked ashamed, eyeing the pans. "I'm sorry…. I think the sauce is bad."

"Huh?"

"I didn't prepare the sauce properly, and it's gonna taste bad."

The short boy's voice was barely a whisper, but Shogo understood. He grinned.

"It's good I made some of my own last night," he said, pulling out a sealed pot from his bag. "Call it preparation."

"Isn’t that…"

"What?"

"Cheating?"

Shogo laughed a bark. "Promise not to tell teacher about that, either?"

Yutaka grinned, and they poured the contents of the ruined sauce away. Shogo replenished it himself, and with that, the two of them were back on track, though Yutaka kept away from the hot surfaces. Hirono was watching Shogo suspiciously.

"Why did you do that?"

"Like I say, I want to take the food back with me. That's all."

"The hell that's all," Hirono said. "I'm gonna start think you're going soft on me, Kawada."

"You can think what you like."

"I do," she said, eyeing up Kawada's apron. "Guess you're kinda talented. More than a pretty face, huh?"

Shogo did his half-grin again. "From you, that's a hell of a compliment."

"Whatever. I just want this to lesson to be over already."

Within twenty minutes, the class was drawing to a close, and Mrs Sato had told the students to take their food out of the ovens to be tasted and graded. She walked around the tables, sampling the various dishes, and saying a couple of things to the makers. She passed off from Haruka and Yumiko's minor disaster, and stepped to Shogo's table.

With a combination of perseverance, teamwork, and forward planning, Yutaka and Shogo had managed to pull together a half-decent meal, and were rewarded with a B grade.

Yutaka and Shogo gave one another a small grin. Once somebody broke the ice, Shogo found it hard to stay frosty.

All the more so when the teacher passed over to Hirono's table, took a taste of Kazuo's meal, and coughed it up over the table. The class converged on the table, astonished, and held their breath as Mrs Sato pulled out most of a cigarette from the bottom of the tray.

"I don't smoke," Kazuo said. "It must have been Shimizu who put those in there."

Shogo noticed the look of outrage on Hirono's face as she was forced to choose between grassing someone up to a teacher or failing a class. In the end, she stalked off without warning. Shogo wondered at what point Kazuo threw her cigarettes into the mixture, and why exactly he did so. But it didn't matter, as Kazuo now swallowed a spoonful of the mix. It was surely revolting, but Kazuo didn't seem to care.

Kiriyama didn't seem to care about a lot of things.

"So? What do you think?"

Finally, they had explained the plan to him.

Well, they had given him a rough outline. From just a handful of these informal meetings, there was no point in trying to get explicit, lengthy specifics from anybody, because none of them knew more than Shogo himself. It was hard to believe this was any sort of organisation at all. In many respects, somebody pointed out to him, it wasn't an organisation at all. They were simply a group of people who happened to meet together once in a while for a casual chat. There were no secret handshakes, no banners, no protests, and-- oddly enough-- no huge ambition to do anything. Generally, the biggest thing people discussed was the sports matches, or pop music, or similar trivial stuff.

Maybe it was because they didn't want to talk about the hard stuff. Maybe it was because Shogo was present. Maybe they were just aware that a nation cannot be toppled with a snap of the fingers.

But this was the first time anybody had said anything to him about the actual intentions, about sending him into a class that had already been scheduled for the Battle Royale some point the next year.

Either way, the plan sounded completely absurd.

"Shiroiwa?" Shogo grumbled. "what, 'Castle Rock'? Sounds a bit of a lousy place."

"You understand that you'll need to stay there for good, right?" The man who had explained this to him seemed to have some air of a teacher about him; late thirties, and fidgeted like he wanted to sit down all the time. "And the thing is... you'll probably die."

"Yeah, I figured that," Shogo shrugged. He had assumed he was going to die some point in the near future, anyway, why not use it to prove a point? That the kids churned through that slaughterhouse do matter? That they aren't just cattle?

Shogo leaned forward. "So what do I need to do?"

"Just attend classes, be a student, same as normal," said the man. Shogo knew this guy was not the leader (if there was a leader; it felt impossible someone could manage this much chaos and lack of material strategy), but he was holding some air of knowledge anyway. "We're gonna register you under the name Shugo Kuwata. Just for the time being... is that okay?"

"Why?"

"This class is being tracked. I don't want any fireworks to go off when the Government check on the new kid," said the man, whose name Shogo still didn't know; they were huge on aliases round here, and Kawada appreciated he never would know this guy's name. "But get the school to change it once you've settled in. There's nothing against a Program survivor re-joining the school system. It's a huge coincidence, but someone could get picked twice. And the alias is close enough to your real name to pass off as a mistake."

Shogo realised what was making him feel uneasy. "I... I don't like the idea that we're going to sit round and let these kids die. Why can't we intervene?"

"Those aren't our instructions."

Shogo closed his eyes. He knew he wasn't going to get a better reply. "It's fucked up, but... this is that shit about making a small sacrifice for the greater good, right?"

"You can't make an omlette without breaking a few eggs."

"Fuck you," Kawada growled. The man seemed to realise what he had said, but was interrupted before he could apologise. "Forget it. Is there anything I need to know?"

"Yeah, one big thing," the man said, passing Shogo a sheet. "There's a kid in the class, called Kazuo Kiriyama. He's... well. Put bluntly, early preliminary data puts him as the most likely winner. He is a huge danger."

Shogo looked at the paper in question: this Kiriyama had been marked with an esitmated 28% chance of victory; one or two were presented as having between 7% and 4%, with the vast majority of the remaining thirty-five or so pupils hovering at about one percent apiece.

"Make no mistake, this guy is the one to look out for," repeated the man. "We'll work on figuring out what his weaknesses are, but he is a huge danger. If you see him, kill him on sight."

Shogo mumbled under his breath in reply, but he was transfixed by the pupil's school photograph. His face, so calm, gelled hair like some sort of yakuza wannabe, but with an expression of total apathy... there was something disturbing about him from that photograph alone.

Something... missing.

And those eyes. They were what kept Shogo from looking away. Even on the poor print quality, it was like looking into the jaws of oblivion. There was something fundamentally wrong about this student.

"Make your plans from the outset, Kawada. And pray that somebody else gets to him first."

That was it. The curtain between the two students had been set before they even met. Shogo had a task to do, which would probably cost him his life.

And he had to beat him, no matter what.

"Mmhm. I don't know if it'll work, exactly. Um, faith." He got up from the ground, holding the tracker and Shuuya's gun. "Looks like people are moving around. We should do the same, huh?" He wiped his lip. It hadn't stopped bleeding. "First, we should find Sakura and Yuka. They're both in C7. We're in G8. If we hurry, they'll still be there." Another half-truth.

"C7...isn't that the zone with the mountains?"

"Yeah. Stop giving me that weird look," Yoshitoki laughed. "Let's get going. Race you there. Everything's clear." He picked up his bag and strapped it across his body. "Just like old times, huh?" Yoshi handed the silver pistol off to Shuuya, then picked up his own gun and started running, GPS in one hand and gun in the other.

If he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend like they were kids playing tag.

* * *

C7. It took a lot longer than he had thought to reach the mountains. Stopping to catch his breath, he glanced down at the scanner. Once I'm out of here, I swear I'll never run again. Five numbers cluttered the zone. 5, 6, 7, 15, 16. All in order, sort of. I hadn't been planning on 6, but you know what? A two-for-one special, then.

The plan? Eliminate the real threats left on the island. Maybe it was a little too obvious. He looked over at Shuuya, watching him regain air. Looks like he wasn't as fit at running as Yoshitoki had thought. Or, maybe the island's put a lot of stress on him. They caught eyes. Yoshi looked away.

"Shit, I should have been looking at the GPS when we were running." Yoshitoki said, making care to sound particularly stressed.

"What happened?" Shuuya walked closer for a look.

"I think Sakura's wandered out of the zone. Sorry."

"Don't worry about it. It's okay." He smiled gently, not an ounce of blame anywhere to be found. Yoshitoki could see why so many girls liked him. It put an unpleasant twist in his stomach. "Yuka's still here, right?"

Yoshi shrugged. "I'm not sure. The GPS is freaking out on me. I think it might be broken. We should keep walking. Maybe she's around this side of the mountain."

"Let me see that." Shuuya reached for the GPS. Yoshi snatched it away, keeping it close to his body. If Shuuya saw the GPS, then show's over, folks. Got to think on my feet here. He's not as stupid as he looks.

"I think I can fix it, don't worry about it. For now, let's keep walking." His voice lost its steady for a moment, quivering in the middle of his sentences. Why was it so damn dark outside? Yoshitoki walked, not caring how suspicious Shuu might or might not be. Okay, that was a whole lie. His nerves stood on end, every sense tingled.

Here we go, you can do this.

It was dark, but he could make out just enough of the bulky figure to know who it was. He had the jump on him; his back was turned. Yoshi looked over at Shuuya and handed him the tracker, not listening to his surprise. "Fix it," was all Yoshi mumbled and he raised his gun, ready to make this shot count for something.

"Yoshi--?!!!"

"I WANT TO FEEEEEEL!"

BANG!!

It sounded like an explosion. Yoshitoki fired frantically into its direction. BANG! BANG! BANG!
And with every shot he fired, he couldn't feel more alive knowing that soon enough, someone else wouldn't be feeling very much anymore.

Kayoko noticed two dots appear on the screen. Every dot besides herself that she saw made her heart race. She went a little closer. There was a boy and girl walking. The boy’s hair was long… She moved to where she was behind the two. As she crept closer, she noticed that it was indeed Shuya.

You can do this, Kayoko… You can do this. For Toshi.

She was too far, though. She’d have to be near to get a good shot. But, Mizuho was there too. Well, if Mizuho killed her, then that was okay, just as long as Shuya was dead. As long as Nobu suffered. She wished he could be here to see, to watch one of his best friends die like she had to! But, she wouldn’t have been able to bring him here, and she also didn’t want Shuya’s death to be such torture as Toshi’s unless Nobu witnessed it.

“Kill that vulgar swine!” She could hear Toshi say in her mind.

He’s not vulgar swine! I feel so horrible for doing this.

“But it’s the right thing to do. You have to. Avenge my death! Make him suffer!”

Nobu, not Shuya, right?

“The both of them!”

No, not Shuya! Shuya didn’t do anything!

Kayoko suddenly heard a crunching noise underneath her foot.

Oh shit!

Shuya quickly turned his head to look at Kayoko.

“Kotohiki? K-Kotohiki!  Og-Ogawa w-was…”

She stopped for a moment, forgetting everything.

“Sa…Sakura? You…You’ve seen her? Where is she!?”

“I…I don’t know.” Shuya answered.

“O-oh…”

“He probably killed her. Look at him; rotten, vulgar—Make him beg for hell.”

“NO! No, no, no!”

“K-Kotohiki…? Are you okay?”

I can’t do this… I can’t see Shuya die by my hands…

“I have to!” She screamed at herself. Tears streamed down her face. She was so torn up inside. She needed to do this. She couldn’t do this. She had to do this.

“For Toshi! I have to!”

She pointed the gun at Shuya.

“Yes, for me!”

“I’m so sorry, Shuya…”

She shut her eyes and winced as her finger tightened around the trigger. There was a sudden metallic clang as she felt her arm go back. She quickly opened her eyes in surprised.

“I won’t allow you to die by the hands of that swine! SHOOT HIM! NOW NOW NOW!”

"Kayoko, it's okay! It's okay, just toss the gun!"

Okay? OKAY!? It’s not okay. It will never be okay.

There were cries far off, nearby, Kayoko didn’t know. She didn’t care. She had Shuya in her grasp. In a millisecond, Shuya’s life would be over. Nobu’s pain would just be beginning.

 
[OOC: So, part deux of the FTD. Who will win? Shuya or Kayoko? Please wait for the vote to open!]

Second bullet...she hit Yoshimi.  Yoshimi is dead. 

She dropped the gun in F8.  If your character wants to find it, have at it.  Her bag is in the bushes there too, she left it behind.)

I saw more than a thousand lost spirits
Making their escape before one who came
Over the Styx without wetting his feet.

He brushed the heavy air away from his face,
Passing his left hand over it repeatedly,
And that labour alone seemed to distress him.

I saw that he was the messenger from heaven,
And turned towards my master, who made a sign
That I should remain still and bow to the newcomer.'

[Inferno: Canto IX: 79-87]

Blam!

Brrrat-a-tatta-tat!

Bang! Blam!

It was the end of lunch on a sunny-but-windy October afternoon. Shogo was leaning at his usual spot against the windowsill, gazing out glassily. His eyes lazily followed the children outside as they ran laughing, innocent, carefree. Most of the class were outdoors, enjoying the last of the dwindling summer sun. Shogo had been at the school for a month or two now, and of course, he knew that for some of these children, it would probably be their last summer after all.

One or two students were already indoors, wasting time until the afternoon classes began. In one corner, Satomi Noda and Keita IIjima were at their respective desks, not paying any attention to the rest of the people in the room. By the window, Shuuya Nanahara was showing Hiroki Sugimura some CDs he had received, a gleam of incredulity in his own eyes ("--and he gave me all ten of them for a few thousand yen, because he needed to get rid of the lot! Damn, I scored lucky there, haha.... but some of these titles look strange..."). At the back, that group of strange girls--who despite being indoors most lunchtimes, Shogo was yet to learn their names because they seemed to use bizarre nicknames-- were playing some sort of card game.

Shogo just let his mind drift idly, not letting himself dwell on anything too long. The only things he dwelled on were bad memories, and he would rather not have people badgering him all the time to see if he was feeling okay.

There was a rumble of male voices outside the door, and Shogo sighed, knowing his relative peace would soon be shattered. Sure enough, Mitsuru Numai and his cronies came tumbling through the door chanting something vulgar like they had been to a sports match. Shogo noticed Hiroshi had some sort of food stain down his shirt. Shogo closed his eyes and hoped they would shut up soon enough. Naturally, they didn't, which came as no surprise: after all, little more than eighteen months ago, he was a kid like this. Same old children, same old crap in every school on the fucking planet.

"Oh god did you see his fucking face?" Mitsuru was bawling with laughter.

"Then that supply teacher tried to come in, bigging himself up," Ryuhei cackled in unison. "What was that long word Boss called him?"

"Pederast," Shou said without skipping a beat.

Ryuhei tilted his head. "What does that word even mean?"

"Means he fiddles with ickle girlies," Mitsuru said, as if trying to show he had been paying attention. "Can't believe the Boss found that dirt on the man! Perving in on the girls' locker room at his last school?"

"I was curious and searched for him." Kazuo explained, as if discussing what he had had for lunch. "It's interesting what you can find on the internet if you look in the right places."

On cue, Kazuo had picked up one of the CDs from Shuuya's recently acquired selection; from where he was stood, Shogo could vaguely make out a figure in stockings, suspenders and a dated permed wig reclining within a set of red lips. Kazuo was ignoring everyone, as if no longer interested in Mitsuru's jeering, despite glancing up at the boy occasionally, then studying the CD further.

"Dude, you reckon he took photos of the girls as they were getting changed or something?" Hiroshi continued regardless.

"Oh, I do hope you're not implying Kazzy-kun looks at naughty pictures of girls on the internet!" Shou giggled in a tone of mock scandal that Mitsuru probably failed to fully register was entirely sarcastic.

At the back of the room, a girl giggled.

Silence.

Then--

"The fuck are you laughin' at?" Hiroshi had bellowed, rearing on the knot of girls at the back of the class. The threesome had recoiled as the whole gang turned their attention to them.

"I said, what the fuck were you laughin' at?" Hiroshi's face was turning a reddish colour. Mitsuru had strode in front of him and was now leaning over Kaori, glaring at Megumi.

"You sayin the boss is into fuckin kiddie porn?" Mitsuru hollered at the girls; presumably, the only reason he wasn't full-out shouting was because he intended to get louder. Regardless, Megumi was now turning gradually more white. The silence grew uncomfortably long. Kazuo, obviously bored with the CD, picked up a newspaper from Satomi's desk.

"Heh, reckon that teacher took photos of them?" Ryuhei sneered, jabbing his thumb at the threesome.

Hiroshi snorted. "Heh, them freaks? Who the hell would take a pic of them? It'd break the fuckin camera..."

Shogo saw Shuuya sitting up, clearly intending to intervene. However, he remembered vaguely the last time Shuuya Nanahara got involved with something like this, and left school with a split lip. Sighing, Shogo made his move.

"Why do you think they were talking about Kiriyama?"

"Stay out of this, Kawada," Hiroshi warned, but Shogo, being a good eight inches taller than the other boy, ignored him.

"I'm just trying to figure out why they're not allowed to laugh at their own in-jokes, that's all."

"They weren't fuckin laughin at themselves, were they?" Mitsuru said, offensively close. "Nobody fuckin disrespects the Boss like that, and..."

"Are you sure they were talking about Kiriyama?" Shogo said calmly, an eyebrow raised.

"Course they fuckin were!"

"Were they?"

"...course!" Mitsuru replied stubbornly, though there was suddenly a clear hint of doubt in his voice.

Shogo turned to the three girls, who barely seemed to be breathing. "Girls, what were you talking about?"

None of them said anything, and then suddenly they all gabbled at once, Megumi babbled about Kaori missing her turn, Kaori said something about her and Megumi trying to pick up the same card at once, and Mizuho wittered on about some sort of Janus-faced Empress of Prosperity, which one of them quickly translated into the Queen of Diamonds. Either rate, the girls made a tangled embarrasment of themselves and their private conversation, but it was obvious they were being honest.

"So you see, none of them were listening to what you were saying," Shogo said simply, calmly, not offering a rise. "In fact, most of this room were probably ignoring you."

Indeed, Keita and Satomi had buried themselves in books of their own, and Shuuya was holding the CD Kazuo had taken from him earlier, whilst Hiroki sat on the windowsill awkwardly. Kazuo was still reading the newspaper.

"I ain't letting them off until I get a fuckin apology for calling The Boss a- a-!" Mitsuru was now saying, though it was clearly a lost cause. None of the other members of his gang were speaking now, looking at the floor with a mixture of embarrasment and amusement.

"They weren't talking about kid photos at all, and you know it. In fact, the only person in this room who made such a big deal about whether or not.... The Boss did something like that... was you."

Mitsuru's mouth opened and shut like a fish, and his arms were shaking with rage. He was probably about to lash out at Shogo, had it not been for Kazuo speaking:

"I want to try being a priest."

Everyone in the room stared at him.

"......"

"Yes, a priest," Kazuo said, not looking up from his newspaper. "According to this article, there is a Shinto ceremony this weekend at temples within the city, to help raise money for street children. I am interested in partaking in this ceremony."

"....what the hell?" Ryuhei's face was twisted in confusion.

"Of course, if you like," Kazuo added as an afterthought, "we could also try and steal the collection. They would look to us to lead them in the rituals for their god, and then their faith would be betrayed. That might be interesting to experience."

"What? Why you sayin that out loud?"

"There are numerous ceremonies taking place this weekend," Kazuo sighed, "and nobody at any of them should know us. Although it might be beneficial to make disguises, especially if we seek to intercept their takings."

The whole room was gawping wordlessly. Keita and Hiroki were looking at him like he had stapled a blind kitten to a firework.

"Noda, I wish to keep this newspaper. I think I shall pursue this idea further."

And with that, Kazuo walked back out of the room. The gang (especially Mitsuru) blinked as though in a daze, and went out to follow him. The minute the room was clear, Shogo flashed the girls a small smile.

"Don't worry about those boys; they'll have forgotten by afternoon classes," he said in an undertone. "Besides, they'll get what's coming to them eventually. Trust me on that."

With that, Shogo sat back in his normal window seat, looking outside at the children enjoying their last few moments of freedom before the bell rang.

"Hey man."

Shogo looked up. Nanahara had come over to his desk, and was smiling faintly.

"Saw what you did there," Shuuya nodded to the girls, who were whispering to each other. "Glad someone stood up to them, y'know? I was about to, but..."

Shogo had raised his massive hand. "Don't sweat it. They're not so big."

"But damn, it looked like Mitsuru was gonna come at you, though!"

"I've taken bigger guys than him on," Shogo shrugged. "Not a big deal."

"Yeah, well," Shuuya said, "I kinda respect stuff like that. You're not a bad guy at all."

"I'm not a good guy either," Shogo said bluntly. "I'm just a guy. But I'm not big on people talking crap."

"No offence, but you don't seem big on talking."

Shogo smiled, affording a small laugh beneath his breath. It probably had been the first time these kids had heard him speak of his own volition.

"That's okay though," Shuuya said, pointing his thumb back at Sugimura, "I'm good with the strong, silent types."

"Like I say," Shogo repeated, as if to finish the conversation. "It's cool, don't mention it."

"But..."

"No, seriously," Shogo said with slightly more firmness. "Don't mention it."

Shuuya seemed to give up, just as the bell rang. Shogo sighed, and looked out the window once more. It wouldn't have bothered him if the gang had thrown punches.

After all, he had more important things to do today than any petty classroom squabbles.

He was going to meet the leader.

"Kawada, we're glad you came today. Did anyone follow you here?"

"No, it was dead quiet. Oh, and I brought the book back. What's wrong?"

"We're gonna have to take you somewhere. Get in the van outside. Hiuchi is driving."

"Where are you taking me?"

"Can't tell you. Can't show you either."

"Can you at least tell me what's going on?"

"There's an opening for a plan, and you're the only person who can do it. But I don't know more than that. You'll find out more when you get there."

"Get where?"

".....You're going to meet our leader."

Taking a seat at her desk, Chisato yawned, lifting her hand to cover her mouth, she closed her eyes, just opening them a second later. She was tired—not enough sleep, too much exercise. She had been up since two in the morning, gone for a one hour jog, and then did crunches for another hour. Chisato repeated it until it was time to go to school; she didn’t even eat breakfast. It was the beginning of the day and she was already feeling worn-out.

“Morning class,” Mr. Hayashida waltzed through the door, books tucked under his arm. Some of the class welcomed him, but most stayed quiet. Pulling his chair back, he began to speak once again. “I know you’re all excited for the trip that’s happening next week, but some of you – Mitsuko, Hirono – I’m talking about you, still haven’t brought your permission slips back. You won’t be able to go if you don’t bring them in by Friday.”

Chisato tried to walk herself up and turned her head to look at the two girls, who didn’t seem to acknowledge that Hayashida was talking to them. Facing back to the front of the class, Chisato caught Shinji’s eye, but quickly rested her head against the desk so she didn’t have to look at him. She didn’t need that kind of stress right now. The phone call the other night was embarrassing enough; she hadn’t spoken to him since.

“I hope you all remember that this trip isn’t just a chance for you to mess around,” Mr. Hayashida turned his back to the class and started writing on the board. “Try to get something out of it, please.”

Again, some of the class nodded in response. Chisato didn’t want to lift her head up in case Shinji was staring at her again; she really didn’t want to deal with him right now. He was just going to make her worse. “Take out your History books class,” Mr. Hayashida ordered, “turn to page eighty-seven.”

With all the exercising that had gone on this morning, Chisato had forgotten her book. Slowly raising her arm, she cleared her throat to get the attention of the teacher. “Mr. Hayashida? I’ve forgotten my textbook.”

“Well, I don’t have any more. You’ll have to go to the storeroom and see if there’s any in there.” Fumbling in his pockets, Mr. Hayashida brought out a key and handed it to Chisato, who slowly trudged to the front of the classroom, too tired to care. “Don’t be long.”

“Sir!”

Not him.

Dropping his book on the desk, Mr. Hayashida peered through his glasses, “What, Shinji?”

“I forgot my textbook, too,” Shinji said, coolly.

Sighing, Mr. Hayashida wiped his brow, “Chisato, would you bring one back for—”

“I should go with her,” Shinji explained, “she might not be able to find them by herself.”

Chisato watched this all happened in slow-motion, she didn’t seem to be able to actually speak up and stop this from happening. Grudgingly, she walked out of the room, keeping up the pace, as Shinji trailed behind, his feet quickening.

“Hey, Chisato. What’s up with you?” Shinji tried to keep a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off. She was striding now.

“Will you just leave me alone?” Putting the key in the lock, Chisato turned the key, hearing the door unlock. Opening it, she walked inside and quickly began looking through the books.

Taking the key from the lock, Shinji swung them around his index finger, “Did I do something wrong on our date?”

“No—just, you don’t get it.” Chisato turned towards Shinji, who was busily locking the door from the inside, “w-what are you doing?”

“I’ll listen, just tell me.”

Chisato ran a hand through her hair, “If I tell you will you just let me go?” She didn’t want to be around him anymore than she had to; if it’d shut him up; she just might as well tell him. At least then, they’d be able to get on with their lives. They could go back to before.

“Sure.”

Chisato sat on one of the boxes, her eyes trailed down to her body. She smoothed out her sailor uniform, getting rid of the bumps in the material. “I just… I think I’m ugly, okay? I’m disgusting; I hate myself. You… you made me feel better, but now it’s ruined.”

“Wait, what? You’re not ugly, Chisato. I don’t think you are.” Shinji came closer to the girl, “You’re… really cute.” Sitting beside her, he put his arms around her, allowing Chisato to rest her head against his shoulder.

Chisato stared up at Shinji, tears building up at the back of her eyes, “It was a pity date, wasn’t it?”

“N-no! I really wanted to go out with you. I really like you, Chisato.” Moving himself closer to her, he began to stroke the back of her hair.

“I’m not like the other girls you date.”

“That’s… why I like you.”

The two stared at each other in an awkward fashion, for a long time. Their heads moved closer to each other – inching ever so closer each second, Chisato began to tear up, allowing a tear to slip down her cheek. Shinji took his finger and wiped it away, delicately holding the sides of her face, he pressed forward. Their lips met.

At first, Chisato didn’t really know what to do – she hadn’t kissed anyone before, so she allowed Shinji to take the lead. The two broke away, “Don’t worry,” Shinji comforted her, “I’ll guide you.”

Chisato nodded in response. She didn’t want to stop. She suddenly forgot about how tired she was – how hungry she was. It was just her and Shinji in this moment – it was theirs, no one else’s. No one else mattered.

Slowly, with her hands shaking, Chisato began to unbutton Shinji’s shirt, taking care not to rip any of the buttons off. When she could, she started to lift it up above his head, her eyes wandering to the part of his boxer shorts that were above his waistband. Shinji took the shirt from her grasp, throwing it in the corner of them room. Touching his body, Chisato allowed the warmth to comfort her—she pushed herself closer to him, her body pressed gently against his own.

Looking up at Shinji, the two embraced again. Chisato allowed him to lead once more – it made her feel safe. It made her feel better. Pulling apart, she shivered nervously, Shinji’s hands were cold. Chisato allowed him to slowly unbutton her shirt, revealing her body. She had never shown her body to anyone – grimacing, she turned her head so she couldn’t see herself, but Shinji pressed his hand against her cheek, moving her back. “You’re beautiful just as you are, Chisato.”

Swallowing hard, Chisato smiled, pressing her own, half-naked self against his. Shinji quickly made way to her back, undoing the strap to her bra. Tossing it aside, Chisato laid on the cold floor, her cheeks reddened.

Looking up at Shinji, the two grinned. Unbuckling his pants, Shinji allowed them to drop to the floor and he kicked them off his legs, taking his time and almost tripping himself off. Chisato giggled playfully, “I thought you’d be an expert at taking your clothes off.”

Shinji laughed, shooting Chisato a smirk. Sliding his boxer shorts off, Shinji came down on Chisato, who had already taken off her skirt. He put one hand behind Chisato’s head, the other behind her back, lifting her slightly above the cold floor.

It began to hurt, but only at first. After, there was only pleasure.

It made her feel beautiful again.

Things weren't supposed to happen this way. He was supposed to be able to find her. He was supposed to be able to tell her everything was going to be okay. He was going to hold her
pull her close
kiss her
and sleep with her safe in his arms. That was the fairy tale ending. He was going to save her and everything would be alright because they were together and he would finally be able to tell her the words he had never been able to say. The word that ruins everything. The word better left felt, not spoken. Yoshitoki was going to tell her he

to tell her he

I can't say it

to tell her he loved her.

A pretty girl should never have to walk alone. How could he have been so fucking stupid? She walked alone
no, look on the bright side, maybe she wasn't alone, maybe
shut the hell up, you know what happened to her
A pretty girl walked alone and got killed.

Here for you no matter what. I wasn't there when you needed me the most. I couldn't save you when it counted. Noriko...!

I wasn't good enough for you. Is this supposed to be their way of saying I wasn't good enough for you? The ultimate test. Strapped around his wrist, he could feel the weight of the wiimote. With shaking hands, he had checked the bodies for any useful weapons and obviously, they came up short. Kiriyama must have taken everything - their collars, too. Decapitated cadavers without collars, freed from their leash in death.

And now you're free, too, you're free without me.

I failed. I'm not special.
I'm not special.
I'm absolutely nothing.

A crowd of kids surround another.
He's playing a soft, gentle tune.
They're listening, they're clapping along to a steady one, two, three, four.
Meanwhile, there's a boy standing there, not worth more than the floor.
He sticks to the wall,
says words that go unheard,
and watches the one who has it all
play a soft, gentle tune.

"Wow, Nobu, you wrote this yourself?"

"It's not that great." He sighed. "It's missing something, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Noriko agreed, tapping the desk thoughtfully. "Maybe, a happy ending?"

"No, that would kind of ruin the flow of things, don't you think?" Yoshi folded the piece of paper back up. They were sharing a desk during break time. He was on one side, and she was on the other. "I mean, to suddenly slap in a happy ending...I don't know about that. It doesn't fit the story. You're the one who hates it when writers force and choke things into their stories."

"Mm, yeah, you're right. Hey, um, I have to go meet up with a friend this break time."

"Again? You did that last Monday, too, and the Monday before that." He smirked. "Seeing anyone special?"

"Kind of." Her voice had an obvious cheery note to it.

"Well, go ahead, wouldn't want to keep you waiting." Yoshi teased.

"Okay, see you later!" She left, waving her hand.

Yeah, it kind of bothered him how they were spending less and less free breaks together, but whatever. It was cool. Things seemed like they were finally looking up for him. He was so, so close to finally being able to tell her. Soon enough, even, he'd be able to break off from the wall and into the sunset, together with her by his side.

That was the happy ending that was missing from the poem. The boy against a wall needed to find his girl, a girl that had something that no one else had, so he could be the boy who had something special and that something special was her. Nobody else, only her. It was the kind of special thing that would make everyone jealous, something better than any relationship in their school.

Yoshitoki smiled to himself.

I'll tell her when the time is right. I'll tell her for sure. He had already told Shuuya a few weeks back about her. Telling him had been hard enough. Why, he didn't know. Probably too afraid to ruin things by saying them out in the air. That's why it's only "kind of liking" her. You can't say the truth out loud. Things get messed up that way. Once you say those three simple words, everything gets screwed up.

I should tell her next week. But, no, wait. Bad idea. I've arleady got a good thing going. Why mess it up now? I should keep things as they are. She tells me a whole lot of stuff, after all. Quiet girl in class, but she's not that quiet. It's like she's got this refined sense of loudness or something. Noriko's so cool - she's not afraid to call anybody by their first name. Cute.

Sure, she's not as much of a leader as Yukie is. Sure, she's not as outwardly smart as Satomi or Motobuchi. Maybe, she's not as athletic as Takako. Who cares about that stuff? She's got so much more to offer than all of that other stuff. Nori's perfect the way she is. I wouldn't want her to be anyone than who she already is.

If he were any better at writing, he'd spend all day writing stories about her. He'd write about her hair, her mouth, her eyes; every single
okay, that's enough, Yoshi. You're getting way too sappy here. Do something, stop sitting around and thinking! Go out and find her and tell her. You can be special for her.

"Yes." He mouthed the word. He could do this. It wasn't like he had anybody in the way. Every poem she wrote about that mysterious boy traced back to him. Great hair (Yoshitoki tried), nice eyes (eh, his eyes weren't all that nice, but he would take any compliment he could get), and a gorgeous smile that made her feel important (that was the biggest clue). It was obvious. She had some sort of feeling. Everything he had been doing was working. He had some sort of chance. And maybe, that chance was today.

Of course, he had been feeling this same way a couple days ago, too, but - but that was totally a trial run. He didn't have to say anything during the trial run.

He walked out into the hallway, ready to write the happy ending to his poem. No, more than write. Co-write. It was her happy ending, too. Yeah, just you and

Shuuya? Since when did you talk to Shuuya without me around?

Since when did your face look like that at a guy? Since when did your eyes start looking like that? Your eyes. Your face is flushing. You're staring. You're staring at him and he's staring at you and you're both staring at eachother and here I am standing here staring at you staring at him and - damnit!

"Ahahaha..." If he hadn't laughed, he might have cried. "Break time's almost over, Shuu, let's get back to class."

How could he have been so fucking clueless? Noriko Nakagawa and Shuuya Nanahara. Should've seen it coming from a mile away. Should've seen it coming before it ran him over. I can't breathe. Pressure, pressure pushing his lungs down.

"Of course. Of course, Yoshitoki," Noriko said with a slight bow of her head. Sweet words. "I'll see the both of you later- thank you very much for today, Shuuya." Sweet words scribing daggers in his chest. One last look at the musician and she was gone, disappearing into a crowd of girls far off in the hallway.

-
"Hey, um, I have to go meet up with a friend this break time."

"Again? You did that last Monday, too, and the Monday before that." He smirked. "Seeing anyone special?"

"Kind of." Her voice had an obvious cheery note to it.
-

It was Shuuya, wasn't it, Noriko?

-
I remember she told me she loves listening to guitar playing.
she loves
listening to guitar playing.
I could amaze her with a couple of chords, no sweat. Yoshitoki smiled warmly, remembering the time when he asked her where all her inspiration came from. Her answer? A boy. A very special, kind-hearted boy like no one else.
-

The clues were all there, right in front of me.

-
"Hey, how's Shuuya doing with -- you know, the music and stuff?" Something about the way she said his name made his skin itch. "He's...really cool, don't you think?"

"Oh, that loser?" Yoshi joked. "Me 'n' him go way back. I taught him how to tie his shoes." He was walking Noriko home, as usual. It was starting to become their thing-to-do now. "I'm kidding when I call him a loser. We're best friends." It felt weird saying that. It sounded too girly. "I guess you could say we grew up together."

"So, you know everything about him?"

"Not much to know other than he's pretty stupid once you get to know him."

"Hey, you shouldn't say that about him, friends or not." Noriko's stern face was enough to make him stop the insults.

"You should know him already, anyway. You and him talk."

"Yeah, with you around. I just...I just wish I had something for him."

Yoshitoki didn't even hear what Shuuya had said. "Thought you weren't looking for a girlfriend?" This kid...Shuu was actually stealing her away. Thought you were still into that fat girl. Thought you weren't going to take Noriko. He didn't look his friend in the eye. All he could make complete eye contact with was the wall behind Shuu, right over his shoulder. Shiney, almost laminate walls distorted his reflection back at him.

What's wrong with me?

"Whoa, wait- what? Where'd that come from? You feeling okay? I didn't mean to-" Look at you, you act like you're so confused. Perfect. You forgot, didn't you? How fucking convenient. "...Oh. Oh, man. Hold on."

"Something for him? What do you mean by that?" He expertly raised an eyebrow at her.

"What I mean is - is that we have nothing in common. Shuuya's just so Shuuya and I'm so me." Noriko sighed. "I want to be friends with him, you know, but it's like we're in two different worlds."

"Wait a minute now, what makes him so much better than you?"

"Shuuya's a rockstar, Nobu."

And you're my star. That should be good enough for you. "Is this seriously bringing you down this much?" He laughed. "Shuuya's friends with everyone. It's not that hard to talk to him. You do it all the time."

"Only when you're there." Noriko looked frustrated, like she wasn't getting her message through to him. "I need something that we have in common other than just you. Shuuya seems like such a nice guy and I want to be able to say things to him instead of just hi or laughing when you make jokes with him. Do you understand what I'm saying, Yoshitoki? Help me out here, you're my friend."

"Okay, okay. It's simple, really. I know the perfect way for you two to start talking more." Yoshi beamed. It was a genius plan. "You know how he's into music, right?"

"Y-yeah! Of course!"

"And a lot of music has lyrics, right?"

"Right, right."

"And lyrics are just words strung together, kind of like poems, right?"

"Oh! Yoshitoki, you're the best." She was smiling wider than he was. "I don't know what I would do without you. Thank you so, so much."

"Don't mention it."
-

"I'm not interested in her at all. You know that. And she doesn't like me." Shuuya went on. Yoshi was too caught up in his thoughts to pay full attention. She doesn't like you, you sure about that? She begged me to help her talk to you and this is the thanks that I get for it. I told you I liked her and look how much it's working for us. "...You okay, Yoshi? You're sure you don't want me to put in a good word?"

...

What?

Something snapped. "I don't-" What the hell was he saying? What the hell did he mean by a good word? It was like, it was almost as if he was saying he couldn't get her without one. Is that what you're saying? "A good word! I don't need you to put in a good word for me, thank you very much. We might not all have rock star charm, but-"

"Shuuya's a rockstar, Nobu."
. . .very special...like no one else.

Babbling. Shuuya was babbling a response now, full of all kinds of sorries. "Noriko... I hardly see her. And I mean see her. I don't really see her face. It's blurry to me. Not the way that I saw Kazumi's." Whatever, whatever. I don't get what Noriko sees in you that she can't find in me. For fuck's sake, Shuu, I told you about her.

"It's not..." It's not like I've got anything for her. "S'not... s'not like..." you can't get anybody you want. You can. So why not leave Noriko alone? He let out a long, weighty breath of air, unsure of what to say next. "...Sorry I snapped, Shuu. I've been having a weird morning. Lack of sleep." Lie.

Another apology. Another reason for Yoshi not to care. Why bother?

"Look, you're going to get her. I know it. And if you think she's got eyes for anybody but you, you're wrong. You're great, Yoshi. She likes you. Any girl would." Good one.

"You say so," Yoshi said, touching a piece of his hair. Great hair, yeah, right. What a dream. I can't even grow it that long without it looking stupid. "Class time, Shuu. Let's focus." He turned away.

"Yeah...Yeah, of course. Just... let's talk about this later, okay? If you need to talk, that is."

"Sure."

No.

Hope had died with Shinji and Noriko. Mimura, out of anyone on the island, could come up with a plan to get them out of this mess. Escape, yeah, right. Look what happened. Yeah, to some level, Yoshitoki could come up with the ideas. He could think of things to do - he already had.

He vaguely remembered some of the technical tricks Mr. Abe had taught him when he was younger - lame, useless computer tricks that could only come in handy if he had a laptop. Oh, and machinery stuff that had kept him awake at night, trying to figure out the mechanics that went into things like cars and dishwashers. Yoshi had been eleven at that time, if he remembered right. Too young to grasp the overall concepts he was being taught, but he had been smart enough to pull enough details together to get somewhere.

Well, somewhere, that is, if your version of somewhere was nowhere at all. Yoshitoki was better at coming up with reasons for ideas not to work. It came with the cynical territory. Oh, shit, oh, shit. Everything was wrong now. His chest hurt all over again. There was nothing left for him to throw up, so he was left rolling around, hiccuping uncontrollably.

I'm out. They're going to kill me, Noriko. There's no one left. No one left.

Why doesn't anybody like me?

You didn't even like me. Everybody left me. Me, me, me. I'm not good enough for anyone.

Six hours went by with him staring up at the sky turning from dark to light, absolutely soaked. There weren't any names on the report. Twenty two people left. Twenty one people to die before he could go home. Home? What home? Twenty one before he could hang out with Ms. Anno again. Twenty one before he could play with all the little kids, sing stupid songs, play a little game of catch. Twenty one. Twenty one.

"Twenty one." By the looks of it, he wouldn't even live to be twenty one. Kids could drink then, right? That was the time when you're supposed to be an adult. "Less than forty eight hours." The dawn rays washed over him, giving him a slight headache. "We'll all die at the next midnight if...if nothing happens." He mumbled, echoing Sakamochi's report.

Yoshitoki Kuninobu didn't want to die. Who did? Time passed by without him getting up. One more death. Fumiyo Fujiyoshi, that nurse girl. Not enough of a personality to remember. Oh, what time was it? Noon. The beginning of the end.

I don't want to be a loser.

I don't want to die as some un-special person.

I can't go this way. I don't want to die like that...

He glanced over at Mitsuru and Keita's unrecognizable bodies. They were drying out in the sun, long forgotten by their peers. Noriko's name had been before theirs on the report, meaning that, maybe if Yoshi had gotten out of the house faster, he could've -
I could have saved you.
If I had been better... I could have saved you.

                                      Now it's me by myself!

(all alone alone ain't this familiar)

The only one that's gonna be disappointed in the end will be me.

Don't want to die a loser.

I don't want everyone to forget about me.

very special...like no one else

No matter what, Noriko.

The brisk sheen of the glass felt hard against Mizuho’s nose. From where she sat, face pressed up against her classroom’s window, she smiled as the figure of Shinji Mimura, The Third Man, came into view down the corridor. He was so beautiful, she thought as his breathing revealed the stomach muscles beneath his shirt. So elegant and charming, especially when standing beside a kid like Yutaka.

Her smile widened as his lips quivered, the short boy beside him letting out a –what Mizuho could only assume was- a shrill guffaw. She didn’t know why he hung out with Yutaka. A guy like Shinji had his pick of anyone in the entire school. He could have been accepted by even the likes of Mitsuko or Kazuo, and yet he hung out with the ‘misfits’ of the grade. The so-called ‘losers’.

“I wish I was his kind of loser…” Mizuho sighed to herself, her eyelids flickering as she pushed her face harder against the window. Shinji and Yutaka had stopped walking, continuing their discussion by the lockers.

“Look at me if you love me.” Mizuho chuckled to herself, focusing on the boy’s amber-coloured eyes. Slowly, she wrapped her fingers around her neck-pendant for strength.

“If you love me, Mimura, you’ll look at me.”

There was still no response. Shinji was far too interested in whatever Yutaka had to say than to look at her, of all people. Mizuho pouted, beginning to pull her countenance from the windowpane. Shinji really, honestly, didn’t care about her at all. To him, she really was noth-

Mizuho’s grip on the pendant tightened as, suddenly, the basketball player’s sight glazed over, something glinting in the corner of his eye. She felt her heart begin to race, beating faster and faster as he tilted to the side, eyes moving towards her.

It was only when the bony ass of Chigusa moved in front of her window that her hope fell to pieces. The slender girl, still in her track-uniform, moved gracefully past Mizuho’s window and down the corridor, Shinji’s eyes following suit.

“…” Mizuho let out a yelp, pulling her eyes from the scene, heaving quite a disappointed groan. “N-nothing…”

The small redheaded girl sat by herself in the corner of the classroom, her head tilted downwards, a bored look on her face. It was her first day, and she didn’t know anyone – Chisato, at first, thought that she would try and talk to people, but their personalities… they were just too big, too confident. She felt out of place – she just wanted this day to be over.

It was strange for Chisato, anyway. She had been homeschooled before this – but then, suddenly, her mother decided to bring her into school. She hadn’t really spoken to much people – at least, not outside of her immediate family. She wasn’t the most talkative person; she was rather withdrawn; she didn’t even know what to say when their teacher asked her to talk about herself. What was she supposed to say, that she was just a weird, homeschooled freak? That’s what they all thought, Chisato knew. Homeschooled people are just weird. That’s what everyone thinks.

They can’t interact with normal people.

Just when Chisato thought she was about to fall asleep, she felt something brush against the back of her hair, as a small girl with glasses walked by her, her face planted in a book.

Turning to look at Chisato, the girl pushed her glasses up slightly, “Sorry,” she muttered, “I didn’t notice you there…”

“Oh, no, it’s okay!” Chisato spoke quickly, rather nervously – this girl was the first person to talk to her, even if it was just to say sorry.

The girl smiled contentedly, “I’m Satomi, by the way. You’re the new girl, right? Chisato?”

Chisato nodded her head profusely, “Yeah…”

Closing the book she was reading, Satomi hooked it under one arm, focusing hr attention fully on Chisato. “You wanna come and meet Yukie and Haruka? You’re not doing anything are you?”

“That’d be great!”

“I’m glad to have met you, Satomi.”

“Real glad.”

Walking behind Satomi, her head more perked up than earlier, Chisato couldn’t help but feel happy about being spoken to by Satomi – who, as far she knew, was a nice, sweet girl. Chisato had seen them earlier in the day, all talking together – they really all did seem like a nice bunch of girls. Chisato would rather be friends with them than some of the other girls (she remembered seeing three girls together, who seemed to give her smug, unappreciative glances), who frankly, didn’t look very nice at all.

Out in the courtyard, the two started heading over a bench, where a bunch of girls were sat. Satomi waved to them, receiving a wave in return. Still slightly nervous, Chisato didn’t do anything, but stayed at the back of Satomi, her hands behind her back.

Satomi took a seat on the end, leaving an open space for Chisato, who quickly sat down, wanting to avoid being the only one stood up. Satomi turned towards Yukie, “Guys, this is Chisato, you know her right? The new girl.”

“Hey,” Chisato smiled rather awkwardly, “nice to meet you, guys.”

Yukie quickly got out of her seat, standing in front of Chisato, her face gleaming. “Hey, Chisato!” Yukie took on almost leadership-like stance, “I’m Yukie Utsumi. Nice to meet you!” Yukie pointed a finger at the tall, slim girl, “that’s Haruka Tanizawa,” then at the somewhat chubby girl, “that’s Yuka Nakagawa,” and finally, she pointed a small, petite girl at the end, “and that’s Yuko Sakaki!”

The introduction was followed by three simultaneous ‘heys’ and the girls all came around Chisato, who felt slightly overcome by all this attention. “So, Chisato,” Yuka began, “how’re you enjoying it so far?”

“… It’s kind of loud,” Chisato wasn’t really used to this kind of environment; she hadn’t ever been around this many people – it was kind of extreme to her.

“Yeah, yeah, it is,” Yuka grinned, “so, you seen any boys you think are cute yet?”

Haruka laughed, “I can’t believe you’re asking her that already, Yuka. She only just got here!”

“What?” Yuka playfully elbowed Haruka in the gut, “I’m sure she’s seen someone she likes!”

Chisato spoke up, wanting to get into the conversation. “I have… a little.”

Yuka gave a told-you-so look to Haruka, “ooooh, who?”

“Um… I think his name is Shinji…? He seemed… kind of nice.”

“Oh,” Satomi giggled, “should’ve known it was him. Everyone likes Shinji. Shinji or Shuuya, anyway.”

“Oh?” Chisato was feeling her nerves disappearing – she started to find it easy to talk to these girls… like they’d known each other for a while. “Who?”

“Well, Yukie totally has a crush on Shuuya,” Yuka started to count on her fingers. “Yumiko… Yukiko do, too. A bunch.”

Chisato racked her brains back to the beginning of school; she remembered two girls who were always together – maybe they were Yumiko and Yukiko? Chisato didn’t remember, but they seemed like nice, cute girls.

“So, Chisato!” Yukie sat down beside her, “we’re all going over to my house tonight to watch some movies. Wanna come?”

“Sure!” Chisato spoke energetically, “I’d love to!”