Battle Royale (4 page)

Until now.

"That can't be."

A chair fell as someone stood up. The voice was shrill enough to make Shuya glance over at the desk behind Hiroki Sugimura. It was Kyoichi Motobuchi, who was the male class representative. His face was beyond pale. It had turned gray, providing a surreal contrast to his silver framed glasses, resembling one of those silkscreen prints by Andy Warhol illustrated in their art textbooks as "the decadent art of American imperialists."

Some of his classmates might have been hoping that Kyoichi would provide some adequate rational form of protest. Kill the friends you were hanging out with yesterday? It was impossible. Someone's making a mistake here. Hey rep, can you take care of this one for us?

But Kyoichi completely let them down.

"M-my father is a director of environmental affairs in the prefectural government. How could the class I'm in be selected for th-the Program?…"

Due to his shaking, his tense voice sounded even more wound up than usual.

The man who called himself Sakamochi grinned and shook his head, his long hair swinging in the air.

"Let's see. You're Kyoichi Motobuchi, right?

"You must know what equality means. Listen up. All people are born equal. Your father's job in the prefectural government doesn't entitle you to special privileges. You are no different. Listen up, everybody. You all have your own distinct personal backgrounds. Of course some of you come from rich families, some from poor families. But circumstances beyond your control like that shouldn't determine who you are. You must all realize what you're worth on your own. So Kyoichi, let's not delude ourselves that you're somehow special—because you're not!"

Sakamochi bawled this out so suddenly, Kyoichi fell back into this seat. Sakamochi glared at Kyoichi for a while, but then his smile returned.

"Your class will be mentioned in today's morning news. Of course because the Program must be conducted in secret, the details will remain undisclosed until the game ends. Now let's see, oh right, your parents have already been notified."

Everyone still seemed lost in a daze. Classmates slaughtering each other? Impossible.

"You still don't believe this is happening, do you?"

Sakamochi scratched his head with a troubled look. Then he turned to the entrance and called out, "I need you guys to come in!"

In response the door slid open and three men came rushing in. They were all wearing camouflage fatigues and combat boots and tucked under their arms steel helmets bearing the peach insignia. It was immediately obvious they were Special Defense Forces soldiers. They had assault rifles strapped over their shoulders, and Shuya could see automatic pistols holstered onto their belts. One of the soldiers was tall with strangely kinked hair, giving the impression of someone frivolous, the other was medium height, with a handsome, boyish-looking face, and the last one wore a slight grin, but was eclipsed by the charisma of the other two. They were carrying a large, thick nylon sack resembling a black sleeping bag.

Various parts of the bag poked up as if it were stuffed with pineapples.

Sakamochi stood by the window and the three men placed the bag on the lectern. Both sides of the bag protruded over the lectern, particularly the side facing the window, and dangled down, perhaps because the contents inside were soft.

Sakamochi announced, "Let me introduce these men who will be assisting you for the Program. Mr.

Tahara, Mr. Kondo, and Mr. Nomura. Now why don't you show them what's inside?"

The frivolous one, Tahara, approached the lectern from the side of the hall, placed his hand on the zipper, and pulled the bag open. Something drenched in red liquid…

"AIEEEEE!"

Before it was fully open, one of the girls in the front row screamed and was immediately followed by the others. As the desks and chairs made a clattering sound, other voices asked, "Whaaat?" and a soprano chorus swelled up.

Shuya held his breath.

He could see the body of the teacher in charge of Class B, Masao Hayashida, inside the half open bag.

No, he was now their former teacher. Or in fact he was now the former Mr. Hayashida.

His flimsy blue-gray suit was drenched in blood. Only half of his large black glasses that earned him the nickname "Dragonfly" remained. What could you expect, only the left half of his head remained.

Underneath the remaining lens the marblelike, crimson eyeball gazed absently at the ceiling. Gray jelly, what must have been his brains, clung to his remaining hair. As if relieved to be released, his left arm, still wearing a watch, poked out of the bag, dangling in front of the lectern. The ones sitting in front might have actually seen the second hand ticking away.

"All right, all right, all right, quiet now. Be quiet. Silence!"

Sakamochi clapped his hands, but the girls' shrieking wouldn't subside.

Suddenly, the boyish looking soldier named Kondo pulled out his pistol.

Shuya expected a warning shot into the ceiling, but the soldier instead grabbed the bag containing Hayashida with one of his hands, and dragged the bag down from the lectern. He snapped Hayashida's head up to his face. He looked like a hero in a sci-fi flick fighting a giant bagworm.

The soldier pumped two bullets into Mr. Hayashida's head. The rest of Hayashida's head flew apart. The high powered bullets tore apart his brains and bones which formed a bloody mist and splattered all over the faces and chests of the students in the front row.

The echoes from the gunfire subsided. There was hardly any trace of Hayashida's head.

The soldier tossed Hayashida's body to the side of the lectern. No one was screaming.

42 students remaining

4

Most of the standing students timidly returned to their seats. The uncharismatic soldier on the far side dragged the bag containing Hayashida's body to the corner of the classroom, then joined the other two standing by the lectern. Sakamochi returned to his position behind the lectern.

Once again the room turned silent, but that silence was soon broken by the sound of someone groaning in the back, followed by the damp splash of vomit splattering against the floor. Shuya could smell it.

"Listen up everyone. As you can see, Mr. Hayashida vehemently opposed your class' assignment to the Program," Sakamochi said, scratching his hair. "Well, it was all so sudden, we do feel bad about it, but..."

The room grew silent again. Everyone now knew. This was real. It was no mistake, nor was it a prank.

They were going to be forced to kill each other.

Shuya desperately tried to think clearly. The unreal situation had put him in a daze. His mind was spinning from the horrible corpse of Hayashida and the role it played in this horror show.

They had to escape. But how?…That's right…first he'd meet with Yoshitoki…Shinji and Hiroki…but how was the Program actually conducted? The details were never publicized. Students were given weapons to kill each other. That much was known. But could they talk to each other? How did the government monitor the game?

"I…I…" Shuya's thoughts were interrupted. He looked up and opened his eyes.

Yoshitoki Kuninobu half rose and gazed at Sakamochi, unsure, it seemed, whether he should continue.

He looked as if his words were beyond his control. Shuya's body tensed up. Don't provoke them, Yoshitoki!

"Yeeees? What is it? You can ask me anything."

Sakamochi offered a friendly smile, and like a puppet Yoshitoki continued, "I…don't have parents. So who did you contact?"

"Ah ha," Sakamochi nodded. "I remember there was someone from one of the welfare institutions. So you must be Shuya Nanahara? Let's see, according to the school report you were the one with dangerous ideas. So…"

"I'm Shuya," Shuya interrupted, raising his voice. Sakamochi glanced at Shuya and then back at Yoshitoki. Still in a daze, Yoshitoki glanced back at Shuya.

"Oh, that's right. I'm so sorry. There was one more. So you must be Yoshitoki Kuninobu. Well, I contacted the superintendent of the institution where you were both raised. That's right…she was very pretty," Sakamochi said and grinned. While his smile appeared to be cheerful, there was something disturbing about it.

Shuya's face tensed up. "What the hell did you do to Ms. Anno?"

"Well, like Mr. Hayashida, she was very uncooperative. They both didn't accept your assignment, so in order to silence her, well, I had to…" Sakamochi continued calmly, "…rape her. Oh, don't worry. It's not like she's dead."

Shuya flushed red with anger and leaped up, but before he could say anything, Yoshitoki said, "I'll kill you!"

Yoshitoki was standing up. His expression had changed, though. He'd always been so friendly to everyone. No matter what happened, it was impossible to imagine him getting angry. His expression now was something he saved for those rare times he was truly enraged. No one else in class might have ever seen him like this, but Shuya had seen him this upset twice. The first time was when they were fourth graders and a car ran over the Charity House's pet dog, Eddie, right in front of the gate. Frantically, Yoshitoki chased after the fleeing car. The second time was only a year ago, when a man had been using the school's debt as leverage to come on to Ms. Anno. After she managed to pay back the money, and thereby rejected his advances, the man cursed her out right in front of them, as if he wanted all the Charity House's residents to hear him. If Shuya hadn't stopped Yoshitoki, the man would have lost his front teeth, though Yoshitoki would have also been severely injured. Yoshitoki was extremely kind, and even when he was insulted or picked on he usually laughed it off. But when someone he truly loved was hurt, his response was extreme. This was something Shuya admired about Yoshitoki.

"I'll kill you, you bastard!" Yoshitoki continued, screaming, "I'll kill you and dump you into a pile of shit!"

"Hmm." Sakamochi looked amused. "Are you serious, Yoshitoki? You know one must be responsible for the things one says."

"Give me a break! I'm going to kill you! Don't you forget it!"

"Stop it, Yoshitoki! Stop it!"

Yoshitoki paid no attention to Shuya's screaming.

Sakamochi spoke in a strange, kind voice, as if to appease Yoshitoki.

"Look, Yoshitoki. What you're doing right now is voicing your opposition to the government."

"I'll kill you!" Yoshitoki didn't stop. "I'll kill you I'll kill you I'll kill you!"

Shuya could no longer contain himself and right when he was about to scream again, Sakamochi shook his head and waved his hand at the three Special Defense Forces soldiers standing by the lectern.

They resembled a chorus group, like the Four Freshmen. The men in fatigues, Tahara, Kondo, and Nomura, all lifted their right hands in a dramatic, emotionally charged pose. But their hands were holding guns. Now the chorus would have been something like, "Baby please, baby please, spend this night with me—"

Shuya saw Yoshitoki's bulging eyes open even wider.

The three automatic pistols exploded all at once. Just as he was stepping out into the aisle, Yoshitoki's body shook as if dancing the boogaloo.

It happened so quickly that Noriko Nakagawa, who sat right behind Yoshitoki, along with the rest of the class, didn't even have time to duck.

The gunshot sounds hadn't even died down before Yoshitoki slowly tipped over to the right and crashed in between his desk and Izumi Kanai's on the right. Izumi shrieked.

The threesome stood with their right hands extended. Thin smoke from each of their barrels simultaneously trailed upward. Shuya then saw in between the legs of the desk the familiar face turned towards him. The bulging eyes remained open, fixed on a point on the floor. A bright puddle of blood began oozing out onto the floor. Yoshitoki's right shoulder began twitching down to his fingers.

Yoshitoki!

Shuya stood up to run to him, but Noriko Nakagawa, who was sitting closer, was quicker. "Yoshitoki!"

she screamed and crouched down beside him.

Now Tahara, the frivolous one, aimed his gun at Noriko and pulled the trigger. Noriko tumbled forward as if she were swept off her feet and collapsed on top of Yoshitoki, who continued to twitch.

Tahara immediately pointed his gun at Shuya. Shuya's mind was racing now but his body was frozen.

Only his eyes moved. He saw the blood spurting out of Noriko's calf.

Sakamochi said to Noriko, "You will not leave your desk without my permission." Then he looked over at Shuya, saying, "The same applies to you, Shuya. Now sit down."

Shuya did his best to take his eyes away from Noriko's bloody leg and Yoshitoki underneath her. He looked Sakamochi directly in the eye. His neck muscles had tensed up from the shock of the scene.

"What the hell is going on here!?" Tahara still pointed his gun at his forehead. Shuya remained still, bursting out, "What the hell are you doing!? We have to get some help for Yoshitoki…and Noriko..."

Sakamochi grimaced and shook his head. Then he repeated, "Forget about it and sit down. You too, Noriko."

Noriko, completely pale from looking at Yoshitoki lying underneath her, slowly looked up at Sakamochi.

She seemed overwhelmed with anger more than she was with the pain she must have been suffering from.

She raised her eyes and glared back at Sakamochi. "Please get some help." She spoke each word deliberately. "For Yoshitoki."

Yoshitoki's right arm continued to twitch. But while they watched over him the twitching subsided. It was evident his injury would be fatal unless he was treated immediately.

Sakamochi sighed deeply, then addressed the frivolous one, "Then Mr. Tahara, will you please take care of this."

Before they could figure out what he meant, Tahara pointed his gun downward and pulled the trigger.

BLAMM. Yoshitoki Kuninobu's head bounced up once, then something from his head splashed onto Noriko's face.

Dumbstruck, Noriko's mouth hung open. Her face was covered with a dark red substance.

Shuya realized his mouth was hanging open too.

Although part of his head had been blown away, Yoshitoki's eyes still remained focused on the same part of the floor. He was no longer twitching, though. He was motionless.