It was well past two in the morning when the Super High School Level Hall Monitor heard frantic banging of the interphone. Groaning, Ishimaru raised his heavy body from sleep and took slow steps toward the door.

"Now, now, my fellow student! We should uphold our nighttime curfew, or else there's no reason...brother?"

Ishimaru's lecture turned into a gasp of concern as his so-called brother Oowada Mondo collapsed into his arms.

Although his hair style was quite different, it was the jacket with the words "crazy diamond" and the figure was definitely his kyoudai—brother's.

Staggering from the sudden weight, it was all he could do to close the door and half-escort, half-carry Oowada into the room.

"Brother, is anything the matter? Even if it's you, breaching the curfew is unacceptable..."

"I killed Fujisaki."

The sudden confession was practically dragged out of Oowada's mouth. He said it wearing a visible expression of contempt and hatred, but not towards the boy who was listening...no, the contempt was directed towards Oowada himself, and Ishimaru knew, knew that too well because self-detest was something he had seen too much on his family's face.

A moment passed before Ishimaru actually figured out how he should react to those words.

"You...what...?"

"Fuck, didn't you hear me the first time I said it? Thought I said it loud enough. Oowada Mondo murdered Fujisaki Chihiro, and a class trial will be held tomorrow. There,"

"I-I'm sorry, I'm...experiencing some difficulty understanding your words...you must forgive me...it has been a long time...since I engaged in my studies, after all..."

"Forgive?"

Oowada smiled bitterly.

"Me, forgive you? Don't fuck around with me. My vocabulary's pretty shitty, but at the very least I know what forgive means and it's not something I can present you with..."

It was only then when Ishimaru noticed a fading stench of iron mixed in with herbal soap, the kind provided on the first floor of the academy, and he dumbly thought that maybe Oowada-kun had washed his hand just before coming here?

But why the smell of iron...the smell of blood?

"You...murdered Fujisaki-kun?"

"Yes."

"As in...the crime of deliberately killing a person...?"

"Yeah. I killed hi...her."

Ishimaru just stared at his friend.

Nothing made any sense. What did he just say? He killed somebody? But why?

Ishimaru stared harder at Oowada. He stared, and thought how Oowada resembled one of those men that appeared in magazine covers whom girls fawn about so much, with his middle-length brown hair tossed back instead of his normal regent style.

He should try that hair style more often. It looks nice on him...

And like that, he kept on noticing dumb things like how the other man sitting front of him was sweaty even though it's three in the morning, stupid things that didn't even matter.

It was, in a way, a self-defense system for someone as weak as Ishimaru. Ignoring any kind of truth he didn't want to look at, pushing it away with meaningless banter.

This shield had worked out quite well enough for Ishimaru Kiyotaka—even the truth of this life-and-death game could be ignored by focusing on how to iron his ten same sets of school uniforms or fret over the studies.

Not this time, though.

Ishimaru was forced to snap out of his foolish train of thoughts, his last shield, for Oowada had suddenly grabbed Ishimaru's wrists and pinned them onto the bed.

The pain was unbelievable.

The Super High School Level Biker Gang Leader had not earned his title for free. It hurt, the grip was so firm it felt as if the very bones of Ishimaru's wrists were being crushed. Of course, Ishimaru struggled, but the strength of a mere Hall Monitor was nowhere even close enough to stop this kind of force. He was forced to look at the truth, challenge it head-on, because of this cruciating pain...

"A...ah...kill...murder...I'm in a game of Life...and Death...a life in kibougamine...something intended to bring the honour back to my family...but instead, the puppetmaster put us against each other...Kuwata-kun killed Maizono-kun...and Oowada...Oowada..."

And then it all rushed up to him like a tsunami.

"A...AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

He screamed. It was a pitiful wail, not unlike that of a wounded beast in verge of dying. Oowada, however, paid no heed to the boy's whimpers and screams, He went on as if he hadn't heard anything, tearing through Ishimaru's school uniform—heck, he wore them even in sleep, huh- and exposed the other's bare body in mere seconds.

"What...stop...what are you doing, let go! It-it hurts, please...let...go, stop...brother..."

"No can do, bro. Stop struggling, you know you can't win against me in a fight. I might kill you...like I did to Fujisaki, you know."

"No...that can't be true, that can't be! but why...did you kill her? Surely there is no secret on earth that is worth a life! Not over something so...trivial...you wouldn't...if you had wanted to get out of the academy that...that badly I would have...you could have killed me instea—Ugh!"

It took a moment for Ishimaru to register what had happened. Did Oowada just slap...him?

Oowada looked at Ishimaru with a strange expression, sliding his hand over the now reddened cheeks. Yes, he had definitely hit him, for Ishimaru Kiyotaka could feel it, the burning, flaring pain on his cheek.

A slight taste of blood filled his mouth.

"You know, Ishimaru, I really fucking hate that shithead Togami, but he was right about one thing after all...don't think everyone in the world are like you,"

"But...but...still..."

"Shut your trap, will you...oh, wait. maybe this will shut you up."

Having said that, the Super High School Level Bike Gang Leader pulled off his belt in mere seconds, a sickly smile on his face, and tied up Ishimaru's already abused wrists. The boy flailed and struggled, desperately trying to escape from his fate—but it was no use. He was weak, the full strength of his both arms could not even ease the grip of Oowada's one hand,

"Un-untie me this instant, brother! Don't...don't do this, please..."

Ishimaru crying and begging seriously turned him on. A lot. That face was something he could bring with himself together to the hell he was going tomorrow. In fact, everything about Ishimaru Kiyotaka was too arousing for him at the moment... the tears falling down his face, the now weakened whines and whimpers, and white skin, that was always hidden by same sets of extremely clean uniform that didn't expose an inch of his bare body provided they were under normal circumstances...and the bruises.

I might have a sadistic side to me, Oowada aimlessly thought. He was being swallowed by raw, sticky desire, to mark him and bruise him until not a millimeter of his skin was left clean and white. And he did exactly that, bowing down to bite Ishimaru's nipples. The boy responded with a satisfying moan, and then became horrified at himself for letting out such...such a dirty sound.

"Wait, brother, what are you doing—stop...!"

"I thought you were good with tests and stuff...don't you know what shut up means? Or maybe it's too rough of a language for our precious Hall-Monitor kun?"

Firm, strong hands trailed over Ishimaru's body, touching him everywhere, Flailing, screaming, begging...none of this got him anywhere near getting his kind, strong brother back. It did get him several more bruises and brutal abuse, though.

Ishimaru looked at his classmate through foggy eyes. It hurt, his limbs were getting sore, and he didn't undrestand anything about this situation. He was being undressed, his most secret body parts being touched...he had never experienced one, but Ishimaru Kiyotaka was certain this was called "rape" That much he understood.

So why did Oowada look like a child in verge of tears?

That was the last thing Ishimaru could think about sanely, and just as he raised his hand to wipe the tears off the gang leader...

Ishimaru's sight turned black.

When Ishimaru woke up again, nighttime was already over, and his body hurt. Every single last part of it, no exaggerations. The first thing he saw when he woke up was a sheet of half-folded, half-crumpled paper signed "Oowada Mondo" in very messy handwriting.

Still in a daze, Ishimaru picked it up; it was time to see what in the bloody hell Oowada was thinking when he did that...to him.

"Hey, Ishimaru,

You should get some rest, it must hurt hella lot to be you. The class trial's gonna be held soon, right? I'm going to give you a choice. You can either just tell the whole lot of them about the real culprit and save them the trouble of investigating, or you can just hide it. Sure, high chance is, I'm just gonna be busted by those three-Togami, Kirigiri, or Naegi- even if you don't tell. I'm not asking you to decide between my life and you plus the rest of them. That's too hard a feat for someone like you.

No, what I'm asking you to do is, please decide on whether you want me to give up...or not. If you chose to tell the other guys first thing in the morning I'll admit it like a man and confess. If not...I'll try to live through it best I can, though of course, like I said before, I'm a goner no matter what you do.

I know this sounds strange to you. I don't understand half of what I'm writing myself. Only thing I know is, I'm kind of hoping you don't give me up, not because I seriously want to live—but because although I'm a scumbag, I would still like to think that you, at least, would want me to live on. Fuck, what in the bloody hell am I even talking about?

Well, see you tomorrow morning. I'm just gonna act all normal, so don't you dare cry or do anything of that sort. Heck, this is the longest and the most formal letter I've written in my life. My hands are getting freaking sore, so I'm gonna end it at this.

With lovYour friend, Oowada Mondo.

p.s- Hey, but I guess I can't do anything about it if you want to beat me into a pulp instead of weeping. Though with fists like yours, it wouldn't even hurt.

p.p.s- Sorry for raping you, dude. Last memories,

The letter was written in a very calm tone, almost as if Oowada was asking a friend to go hang out with him somewhere instead of leaving his last dying will. In fact, Ishimaru couldn't believe it that Oowada just fucking raped him and brushed it off with a "Sorry" and "Last Memories."

He was one minute away from actually carrying out what Oowada had told him-that is, beat him into a pulp- when he noticed the wetness on his fingers.

There were tear stains on the paper, and if one examined it closely, it was clear that the letters were all shaky and jumbled.

The Super High School Level Hall Monitor murmured a swear word under his breath- his first and last swear word in his life, for that matter- crumpled the paper, and threw it with all his force towards the walls. Not that he actually had a lot of force left in him. It was only then when he first noticed the state of his body.

Ishimaru mustered up the last of his strength to half-walk, half-crawl into his shower room. He looked into the mirror. What he saw there was a total mess taking place of the normally upright and soldier-like figure.

His wrists were bruised to such an extent that Ishimaru actually wondered whether those bruises were indeed made by a high school student the same age as himself. His formerly white skin was full of wounds; scratches, hickeys, blood and many other things that he would rather not think about.

It somehow gave off an erotic feeling, so he quickly averted his gaze from the mirror in order to cover it up with one of his ten sets of the same uniform. He was quick to realize that a mix of blood and semen was dripping down his legs, it was just that his legs were too numb to actually feel anything dripping.

Ishimaru Kiyotaka sighed, throwing his clothing away in frustration. This was crazy. Everything was crazy, and he didn't know what to believe in anymore.

When Ishimaru wiped down his legs, took a shower, put on his uniform and appeared again everything was already finished. Mondo appeared before him in the Men's Changing room, but he brushed off Ishimaru's feeble attempts for a one-on-one conversation with a seemingly fake chuckle and a pat on the back. His hair was back to gang-leader styled hair and no longer did he have any traces of blood on him.

Kiyotaka observed his friend, his one and only friend, and it came to him as a sudden realization—that ironic as it was, it was just like Oowada had written in his letters- last memories.

Those were his last memories together with Oowada, the sobs, bruises, brutal sex and a crumpled up letter with traces of tear, and for some reason that made Ishimaru Kiyotaka incredibly sad.

The Super High School Level Hall Monitor curled up in a ball somewhere nobody could find him, no longer wanting to do anything until the class trial ended- until his whole world met an end to it.

And indeed, the end will come.