Sunset has always been my favorite part of the day. Mornings have brought too many hangovers and blinding lights. Afternoons all seem to blend together. A student's life is very boring, and nothing differentiates one midday from another. But as the sun sets, the sky is no longer that same old blue. Magentas and pinks and reds all swell together high above my head, celebrating the coming of night.
Night is where I do my best work. The shadows are my friends, the darkness my lover. No one has ever caught me following them. Not once. I think it's what I was made for. I've always considered myself the James Bond type – sneaky, clever, and damn sexy. Although I've never been fond of those Bond girls…
I've got blackmail on nearly every cop and Yakuza boss in the city. And whenever a high ranking official comes to town, I never miss the opportunity to expand my information. I wonder how many of them are happy that I've stumbled into The Program? I wonder how many will be disappointed when I emerge as the winner?
I'm playing this game the only way I know how – by gathering information. For the first three hours of the game, I walked around the island and observed anyone I came across. I've got a pretty extensive list of the contestants and their weapons inside my head. But it wasn't until I found Kazuo that I began to follow him.
I've followed Kazuo a few times before. What can I say? I've always been drawn to dark and mysterious men. But I love to follow him particularly. I've never walked down the same street when I trail behind Kazuo. He goes into different stores, down dark alleys, and he eats in different restaurants. I haven't been able to peg Kazuo's likes and dislikes because he's always doing something different, trying something new. Maybe that's why I'm so infatuated with him, because I know very little about him.
Following Kazuo now is the smartest thing I've done so far. I can't risk him finding me somewhere out there in the playing field – I wouldn't stand a chance. This way, I always know where he is. And when it's just the two of us remaining, I'll be able to kill him with almost no trouble at all. Well, it won't be that easy. But with all his injuries, it will be a hell of a lot easier than trying to play on my own.
The soft tinkling continues in the outhouse. Already, I've learned more about him than I could have on the city streets. I had no idea that Kazuo had such a problem pulling out his manhood in the wilderness. I guess his upbringing is more prevalent than I knew. I wonder just how adventurous he could be…he doesn't seem to care about anything; maybe he'd be willing to give me a try…
I shake my head, forcing myself to see the reality of the situation once again. Soon, Kazuo will be dead. There will never be a chance for me and him to get some alone time. I need to stop fantasizing and prepare myself for the next two days. I need to keep myself hidden until Kazuo has killed everyone else, and then claim the victory.
A soft breeze drifts by, and I realize that the door isn't securely latched. Has it always been like that? It seems like something I would have noticed. The door begins to swing, and I can't help myself. I start to get aroused by the thought of catching a glimpse of Kazuo's package. I hold my breath as the door swings wider, and that's when I see it.
A water bottle dangles from the ceiling, tied with some string. The bottom is punctured, letting out a slow stream of water into the basin. I realize that I haven't been listening to Kazuo pissing at all. But if he's not in the bathroom, then where the hell did he go? I glance off to the side, and there he is, casually strolling down the dirt path. It's almost like he knows I'm looking at him, because he stops and stares over at me.
I'm on my feet, staring back at him. I don't understand how this could have happened. No one ever knows when I'm following them. NO ONE! How could he have figured it out? How did he know I was here? It suddenly hits me – why he decided to use the outhouse, why we came all this way. I'm still in D-8. It's about to go danger zone, and I don't have enough time to escape.
"No," I say, my whisper floating away on another breeze. I gaze down at him as he continues to stare at me, watching me. For the first time, I'm the one that's being observed from a distance. And I wonder if Kazuo knew I'd been there all along. Did he know I followed him through the city streets, snapping his photograph for my album of him? I can see now that the shadows were not my friends. The darkness is not my lover. All shadows come from Kazuo's eyes. He IS the darkness. He only let me exist there.
With a harsh exhale, a surge of rage fills my body. I aim my tiny gun in his direction, knowing I don't have a shot in hell of hitting him. He knows it too, because Kazuo doesn't even blink. I release a cry of anguish of fury. But it's swallowed up by the quick beeps at the collar around my neck, followed by a loud explosion.