In the spring of the previous year, the reality of the program finally reached its destination. Shogo had been over at Keiko's house for the first time. Her father had his qualms about it, but eventually the arrangement was settled. Saturday afternoon at Keiko's house felt like the first conscious memory that he held onto. He, of course, remembered since they studied every Saturday from then on. Shogo wasn't exactly a model student. Below average grades aside from science and gym class, low attendance record, stirring up the occasional fit with his endless supply of sarcasm, and the list went on. He always wondered just how a smart, good-natured, stunning girl like Keiko ended up choosing him as a boyfriend. He wasn't horrible looking, but not considered as attractive as Tsuyoshi Ueno or Tomio Sugihara. He thought he looked rugged, without the good looks tacked on at the end. Though that didn't matter too much to him and it didn't seem to matter to Keiko either. But, shit, I must have something.

While they sat at the dining room table, books and papers strewn across it, Keiko's father watched the news in the other room. The volume was turned up loud enough to hear where they sat, but not enough to make out every word. Shogo looked over into the living room, his eyes catching the last seconds of a dictator support and praise advertisement. They made him want to vomit. Right on the man himself. The news came back on, one of the anchors looking directly into the camera with his beady, dead eyes behind thick-rimmed glasses. The starched gray suit he wore made him look robotic. Technically he was a robot (to Shogo at least).

"...To conclude the news at twelve, class 3-A of Maebashi Junior High School, Gunma Prefecture, has been chosen for this year's Battle Royale program."

Mr. Onuki made a grunting noise, his head shaking. It was known that he was highly against the act, something he had in common with Shogo's father. The man always claimed he would lose his mind if Keiko were chosen in the following year. Unfortunately for him, the nightmare would come true.

"Shogo, pay attention!" A sharp poke from her pencil brought Shogo from his cloud. "We have to go over math or you're never going to get it. Now this equation..." She paused, again, sighting at him as she worked the problem out in her notebook. For a few moments, she was silent, side-eyeing him from her seat. When she finally opened her lips she asked, "Have you ever thought about that program?"

Shogo lifted his head from the math book in front of him. "Yeah. What about you?"

"What?" Her brows furrowed. "Oh... No, I can't say I have."

"You're a bad liar." A laugh escaped him and he leaned back in his chair. He crossed his arms over his chest, resting his hands on each bicep. "Generally, my view is that I can't think about what will happen tomorrow or today will be difficult."

"That's a good view to an extent. The only problem I have is that you need to stop thinking about something that may not ever happen to us and think about how you want your grades by the summer break." She lifted her pencil and pointed it like a finger scolding him.

"That's not the point. What I'm saying is, the program is the only damn thing that's been on my mind lately. My dad doesn't stop talking about it and how fucked the government is. How can I not think about being chosen so much. I'm not afraid of dying, but..." He rested his elbows on the rable. "It's still a real nasty thought."

She said his name in a tone he recognized. He went too far. Her eyes looked sad as they made contact. "Please stop talking about it. Let's just finish the problem and we can relax for a while, okay?" Seeing Keiko's discomfort, Shogo kept his mouth shut for the most part.

"You..." He trailed off as Keiko stood up, her lips in a frown. "What? I didn't say anything."

She left the room briefly, coming back with something folded inside her finger. She gently handed him a small, wooden object. It felt nice in his hand, the engraving on the side passing beneath his calloused fingertips. What appeared to be a small, long whistle lay in his palm. He brought it to his lips and gave a soft blow. It produced a rather high sounding whistle, almost sounding like a chirp from a bird.

"What the hell is it? A bird call?" He brushed his thumb over the smooth wood before turning it in his large hands.

Keiko cupped her hands together and brought them to her mouth. She made a sound akin to what she just gave him. "It's a bird call," Her hands lowered and she put them both over his. "My dad made this for me, but I want you to have it."

"What for? I'm not going to use this thing."

"It's a gift, Shogo. You're supposed to say 'thank you'..." Her nostrils flared with the sigh that passed through them. "You're not very good at the whole being considerate of others thing."

It turned into a situation that Shogo didn't want to face. He knew that he wasn't the nicest guy. His looks alone were enough to intimidate most people into staying the hell away from him. He remembered thinking that she couldn't expect him to just know. How was he supposed to know?

"If we ever can't find each other when we're meeting up for...a date, just use this and I'll call back."

"Yeah." His focus was on the bird call now, his fingers opening and closing over it. It wasn't the first gift that Keiko gave him without notice. That was the thing he liked about her. She gave and didn't ask for much in return. Even in their first weeks of dating, Keiko always knew the right thing to do. He knew he couldn't be that easy to read, but she knew him. She knew him better than he knew himself and it wouldn't be taken away from him so easily.

In the present, he curled his fingers around the bird call again. He would find Keiko. He would find Manabu and Tsuyoshi. They would get off the island if it was the last thing they did.