Chapter 2: Into Open Arms
The dark shadows of the night swallowed a small school in the middle of a large forest. With the moonlight shining down on the school's bone-white exterior, dozens of soldiers dressed in black military gear carried unconscious heaps of flesh and bone into the school. Though there were several empty classes closer to the entrance, the soldiers emptied the students into a classroom a few ways down the hall. There were already about seven or eight students inside the classroom, their bodies seated in wooden desks with uncomfortable chairs attached to them. One after another, the soldiers carried the sleeping students into the classroom and seated them in random seats.
The classroom was of average size and seemed to have the essentials of an ordinary classroom: a teacher's desk, a blackboard, and the desks of students. At the front of the class also stood a stand with a black TV and a VCR on the shelf beneath it. Various cords and cables of different colors connected the TV and VCR to one another. Once all the students of Class A were seated in desks, the soldiers stormed out the classroom and lined the hallways and perimeter of the school, armed with various sorts of firearms like AK-47s and 9mm pistols.
For several minutes, everything was quiet inside the room save for the soft breaths of air slipping out of the students' open mouths or nostrils. In the middle of the class sat Tetsuo Kaneda, his head down on the desk and his arms hanging loosely at his sides. His short, lean body bobbed up and down as he slept. Suddenly, his head jolted up. Somehow, he had awakened and was now looking around the class. However, his eyes couldn't see anything for they hadn't even begun to adjust to the darkness in the room. All Tetsuo could make out at the time were the hunched bodies of several other people, whom he believed to be his classmates.
"What the hell's going on here?" he wondered to himself as he wiped drool from the side of his lips. "Where am I?"
Blinking constantly, Tetsuo tried to get a better look of the people surrounding him. Everyone else seemed to be sleeping; either that or they were just dead. Looking at the person closest to him, Tetsuo could tell it was Reiko Abarai. Her beautiful face looked down at her lap as her head hung low while her body slouched back in the chair. Like Tetsuo when he was sleeping, her arms hung to her sides.
"Reiko?" Tetsuo mouthed. Turning to his left, he leaned towards the other person's face and saw Kyosuke. The violent boy who had beaten Tetsuo up once sat with his head on his arms. "Oh jeez," he mumbled to himself. "What the fuck is this place? This better not be the damned beach resort they promised us."
Suddenly, a loud explosion erupted from the far left side of the room. The blaring sound flung everyone to consciousness. Tetsuo turned to the left and saw a body with no head. The body was slumped back in the chair, slightly leaning to the right as if it was ready to fall. The neck, which the missing head was once connected to, had a large open wound from which blood continuously squirted. Tetsuo's mouth opened wide with surprise, more than disgust, and he felt like throwing up. His fellow classmates probably felt the same as they stared in awe at the horrible scene before them. No one could even tell whose body it was for it had no head left. All that was left of the body that was noticeable was a flashy, Hawaiian t-shirt and a pair of blue jean-shorts. Thinking back to the beginning of the day, Tetsuo remembered Ichigo Yagami was wearing similar clothes.
Before Tetsuo could think any more, another sound came from the person sitting behind the body. This time, though, the sound was a scream, a piercing one at that. The scream belonged to Rena Hasegawa. Her entire torso was stained with crimson blood. The once white blouse she wore was now turning pinkish-red. Her hands were sticking out, drenched in blood, while she screamed at the top of her lungs.
Fearful for his girlfriend, Yamato Sakai stood up from where he sat and ran over to comfort her. While Rena sat in the third seat of the row that was closest to the windows, Yamato sat in the back in the middle row. He knelt beside Rena and wiped the blood off her face with the sleeve of his maroon sweater while caressing her hand with his fingers. Rena had begun crying and was whispering something incoherent to Yamato.
"What? What are you saying Rena?" Yamato asked.
"It's… it's... it's Ichi-Ichigo," Rena sputtered. The tears streaming down her face made her words even more jumbled as they ran down her cheeks into her mouth.
"Who?"
"It's Ichigo!" she finally screamed.
"Everyone quiet!" a familiar voice ordered with a strong, authoritative tone as the lights turned on and the window blinds opened.
Turning their heads, the students of Class A saw it was their teacher, Mr. Yamamoto. Surely, they thought, he'd save them from whatever nightmare they were experiencing. Even though he was strict most of the time, he wasn't unreasonable and would surely listen to what the students had to say. But, boy, were they as wrong as ever.
"Everyone be quiet and take your seats," Mr. Yamamoto said. The majority of Class A sat in their seats amiably like they normally did in class when Mr. Yamamoto called for attention. The only person who didn't listen was Yamato, who stayed by Rena's side, holding her hand. Mr. Yamamoto noticed this and asked in his usually calm and respectful manner, "Mr. Sakai, please take your seat."
"Mr. Yamamoto, what's going on here?" Yamato asked, ignoring Mr. Yamamoto's instructions.
"I said take your seat," Mr. Yamamoto said sternly. The old teacher whom everyone in Class A had known for so long appeared emotionless. His usually bright brown eyes showed no remorse for the headless body before him. Everything else appeared normal though; he still wore the beige leisure suit Tetsuo saw him in this morning. "I'll inform you on what is happening in a moment."
"Please, can't I just sit here?" Yamato begged. "For Heaven's sake, Rena's all bloodied up and crying! And it's not even her blood! I mean, who the hell is this?"
Yamato pointed his finger at the body in the Hawaiian shirt seated in front of Rena.
"You can't even tell, Mr. Sakai? Why, that's your classmate, Ichigo Yagami," Mr. Yamamoto noted in an almost sadistic tone.
"I-Ichigo?" Yamato muttered his name, his eyes widening. His hand still on Rena's, he eased backwards on his hands and stared at the bloodied body. At the feet of the body, Yamato could finally see where its head had gone. On the floor was Ichigo's head with a black, metal collar lying alongside it. The innocent, 15-year-old boy who barely ever did anything to anyone was now dead. His open mouth formed an 'O' and the skin around where his neck should be appeared shredded and somewhat burned. Blood blotted parts of the boy's pale complexion and even formed a pool around his head. When the realization of his classmate hit him, Yamato whispered to himself, "Holy shit."
"Now, please take your seat," Mr. Yamamoto repeated once more.
"Holy shit," was all Yamato could say as he started to stand. His fingers still gripping Rena's soft hand, he glared at Mr. Yamamoto and asked the question on everyone's mind, or at least he tried to. "What the hell is going –"
BANG!
The sound of a hammer pumping a small, round, metal object out of the barrel of a gun interrupted Yamato. Forced by the pull of a single trigger, a bullet discharged itself from the chamber of a small handgun and headed for Yamato Sakai's head. The bullet flew through the air and tore through flesh and bone. Being so close, Rena could hear bones shattering under the impact of the bullet and flesh being eaten away by the bullet's heat. Still alive, Yamato felt the coldness of the bullet that turned warm just as it entered his brain then penetrated it. Red liquid flung out in all directions through both holes in Yamato's head and permeated other students' clothing. As the bullet finished its journey through Yamato's head, Yamato collapsed to the floor at his beloved girlfriend's feet. It was almost like watching one of those action movies where one of the characters would get shot and fall to the ground in slow motion. The only difference here was that this was real and that everyone even harder.
Immediately, Rena fell from her chair and landed right next to her beloved's dead body. She knew he was most likely dead, but there was a semblance of hope in her that wanted to make sure he wasn't in any pain. Grabbing him by the shoulders, Rena shook her boyfriend's body, but it just moved like a rag doll and made no sound whatsoever. It was painful watching the pretty young girl crying and shaking her boyfriend's body, hoping he was still alive. But what could anyone do at a time like this? No one dared moved in fear of being shot through the head just like their classmates minutes before. All they could do was sit silently and watch in dismay.
"Now, Ms. Hasegawa, I'm very sorry for what just happened, but please take a seat? I really don't want to kill anyone else," Mr. Yamamoto said as callous as ever.
"Why don't you just kill me now?" Rena suddenly yelled. Even more tears streamed down her face as she held her dead boyfriend's head to her bloody chest. "I'll die soon anyways! This is Battle Royale, isn't it?"
The thought hadn't occurred to anyone that that was the situation they were in. No one thought about Battle Royale or wanted to. It was a disgusting thing; forcing children to kill one another was the most disturbing thing in the world yet the country was doing it each year. Of course everyone in Class A heard about it; the government did project the results and the winner of every Program on every news and radio station. But at the moment, all thoughts of it were gone until now anyways. Murmurs began spreading throughout the class. People had obviously become afraid. Another gunshot ringing through the air stopped it all though.
Giving their attention back to their teacher, the students could see Mr. Yamamoto pointing the handgun into the air. There was a hole in the white ceiling above him now and white dust was escaping from it. Mr. Yamamoto relaxed his arm and let it hang to his side.
"Yes, you're right. This is Battle Royale," Mr. Yamamoto revealed, using his middle finger to push his glasses up the ridge of his nose. Though the class had probably guessed it already, they were all still shocked at it actually being announced. Screams and cries erupted from all sides of the room, but they were all soon quieted down from Mr. Yamamoto pointing his gun. "As you all know, the Program, or Battle Royale as it's also known, is a competition in which all forty-two of you must kill one another until there is one clear and decisive victor. You've all heard about it or read about it somewhere, so I'd like to just skip this speech they made me prepare and just play the video for you."
Reaching into a drawer in the large wooden desk behind him, Mr. Yamamoto withdrew a black video tape and pushed it into the VCR. Tetsuo hadn't noticed it before, but there was a stand at the front of the class that contained a black TV with a black VCR connected to it through plugs and cables. The TV screen was plain black at first with static lines crossing it once in a while. When the remote in his hand wouldn't work, Mr. Yamamoto reached forward and pressed the 'play' button on the VCR.
The black screen transformed into one of multiple colors. Standing in the middle of the screen was a thin, young woman with shoulder-length, blonde hair and brown eyes. Tetsuo remembered seeing her on TV a couple times, but her name escaped him at the moment. All he could remember was seeing her sing on stage with a few other people. She was cute and had dimples on both sides of her face as she smiled at the screen. Clothing her teeny body was a pink t-shirt with the bolded words 'BATTLE ROYALE' printed onto them and a pair of white pants. Music began to play in the background as letters appeared on screen. Printed in cutesy bubble letters, the twelve letters formed the words 'BATTLE ROYALE'. The music began to fade into the background as the young woman waved happily to the audience.
"Hello, everyone! My name is Kou Nanahara, no relation to that asshole who fucked up the Program a few years back! Oops, sorry for my language! I didn't mean it." It was creepy seeing how laid-back and cheerful this girl was as she introduced herself. It was even creepier knowing more than half the class had watched her hundreds of times on TV. Once she relayed her name, Tetsuo could remember who she was. Kou Nanahara – she was a top-selling recording artist who used to be part of some girl group called 'Tokyo Boom'. Tetsuo recalled listening to her latest single on the radio just a few days ago. It made Tetsuo sick, thinking about someone who sang about love and peace and passion was here telling kids how to kill one another. "Anyways, I'm here to help inform you guys how to play the Battle Royale correctly! Isn't this gonna be fun?"
A 3D image of a large island appeared on the screen in front of Kou Nanahara. The image showed no physical features of the island, it was just a simple computerized image with several sections divided up by gridlines. "First off, I'll explain the island you've all been brought to! I'm not really sure what the name of this island is, but it's pretty big and it's completely abandoned! About fifteen to twenty miles of this island is comprised of forests and a beach. The rest of the island is comprised of the main city and the residential area. Most of the other Programs have been conducted on islands or abandoned prisons or ghost towns consisting mostly of dense forests and hills or ruined and aging buildings, but this time, the island's a combination of both; you guys are gonna have a lot of places to hide! Wonderful, isn't it?"
Tetsuo shook his head as he listened to the disturbingly cheerful girl continue on with her explanation of the Program.
"However, you're not gonna be able to hide forever! The island's been divided into many zones, which can turn into Danger Zones every six hours of the game. Your Program Instructor will relay which zones will become Danger Zones and when every six hours. If any student is caught within the boundaries of a Danger Zone, he or she will be quickly disposed off through an explosion set off by the collars around your necks."
Surprised, all the students in the class grabbed at their necks and felt cold metal wrapped around them. Each person had a black collar on them. Freaking out, several students tried to wrench the collars off their necks.
"Get your hands off the collars!" Mr. Yamamoto demanded. With his gun, he pointed over to Ichigo Yagami's headless body and added, "We wouldn't want any more of you to get blown up now would we?"
Instantly, all the students let go of the collars and turned their attention back to the instructional video.
"And about those collars," Kou Nanahara continued, "they'll blow up if any of you try to take them off, so please don't try that. Everyone wants this to be fun and it won't be any fun if you die because of yourself now would it?"
Everyone wants this to be fun? Is she kidding or what? Playing basketball with all your friends for hours on end is fun, but this, this is just sick.
"Now, onto the instructions of the Program. Every six hours, your Program Instructor will get on the intercom and announce the names of students killed within the past six hours. By now, you might be wondering how we're tracking all you down, right? Well, it has to do with the collars. Each collar is fitted with a tracking device that allows the Instructor to tell where you are and if you're alive or not. It's also because of this that you can get blown up when you go into a Danger Zone. Anyways, at the beginning of the game, each of you will be given a survival pack."
Kou Nanahara walked from one set to another. The scenery behind her changed from a pristine white to a cold blue and in front of her was a gray table. Atop the table was an army green duffel bag that was filled with random items. With her left hand, Kou unzipped the bag and reached in with her other hand. Retrieving a map, a flashlight, a piece of paper, a bottle of water, an MRE, a compass, and a pencil, she laid them all out on the table and continued her explanation.
"Contained in each survival pack is a map of the island, a flashlight, a list of students in your class, three bottles of water, four rations of food, a compass, a pencil, and a random item meant to be used as your weapon. It's random so maybe you'll get lucky or maybe you won't."
At this point, Kou dug into the duffel bag once again and pulled out a flick-knife. She pressed a tiny button on the handle of the flick-knife and a sharp, pointy knife shot up through the hole in the handle. Though the blade was rusty by now, it gleamed in the artificial light above Kou's head. As Kou stared at the weapon, her face contorted into a strange grin that a little boy would have when he got his first bike.
"The weapons also range from simple home appliances, like toasters of remote controls, to weapons of death, such as pistols and revolvers. Last, but not least, the Program has a time limit of three days. That means you have seventy-two hours to kill each of your classmates till you're the last one left! If there is more than one student left alive at the seventy-two hour mark, then all remaining collars will be triggered and everybody dies! Luckily, that hasn't happened yet!"
Setting the flick-knife on the gray table, Kou moved into another set. This one had a plain, black wall with nothing in the room. Kou stood in front of the camera flashing her toothy grin. Sickening how there were people out there who actually had fun with this kind of thing. Tetsuo wanted to slap the bitch right there, but seeing as how Mr. Yamamoto had already killed one person for not getting into his seat, he chose not to gamble with his life and stayed seated.
"I hope you all had fun learning about the Program! You will all now be called one by one according to your student number by your Program Instructor. I wish everyone good luck and hope none of you screw this up! Remember to fight right and with gusto!"
Kou smiled and waved at the screen as the credits began rolling over her in white letters. There, Mr. Yamamoto pressed 'stop' and went over to his desk again. The class was silent, but God knows each and every one of them had something to say. Mr. Yamamoto grinned evilly as he found the clipboard with the students' names and numbers on them. Before he could call out the names, though, the door to the classroom slid open and two guards hurried into the room. Both guards were dressed in camouflage gear unlike the others who wore black clothing. Slung around their shoulders were Ak-47s and at their sides were pistols of some kind, just like the soldiers in the hallways. Saying nothing as they entered, the two soldiers stood still with their backs against the wall on either side of the doorway. Coming from outside the classroom was a muffled sliding sound like a pair of wheels was running along against an unpaved road. Another soldier entered the room, pushing a giant shelf of duffel bags in front of him. A fourth soldier followed closely behind, pushing another shelf of bags. The third soldier pushed his shelf to the right of Mr. Yamamoto while the other soldier pushed his shelf to the cruel teacher's left. Both men stood guard at their respective shelves and remained still.
"Before I let any of you out of here, is there anybody with a question?" Mr. Yamamoto asked.
"W-Why are y-you going along with th-this, Mr. Yamamoto?" Keiko stammered. She was Mr. Yamamoto's favorite student, plus the student body president, so she obviously had some questions needing answering.
For the first time since waking up in this cold, dirty room, the students of 9th grade Class A of Takami High School saw a look of compassion on Mr. Yamamoto's face. Mournfully looking on at his students, Mr. Yamamoto answered, "You should know by now, Keiko."
Keiko was the only person Mr. Yamamoto actually answered by her first name. He had a habit of calling each and every one of his students by their last name and adding Mr. or Ms. but with Keiko it was different. The two were more like friends than student-and-teacher.
"You talk to me all the time about how the government is sadistic and how not all students are how the government perceives them to be. But I know, Keiko, I know that you are wrong. I've been a teacher my whole life and I know what students are like. You're all the same. On the outside you look different and act different, but on the inside you're all the same. Each of you think that the government is crazy for doing what they do, but you're wrong. The Program is for the benefit of the future generations! By decreasing the number of youths in our country, we are decreasing the number of violence and brutality. You're all just kids so I don't expect any of you to understand, but the one of you who does survive this, when you become older and reach adulthood, you will understand."
Tears began to roll down Keiko's face as she listened to her favorite teacher speak for probably the last time. She slumped back in her chair and faced the clock in the room that ticked away the time until the students' doom.
"Any more questions?" Mr. Yamamoto wondered. When no one responded, he nodded and picked up his clipboard again. "Before I let any of you out there, I just have one question. You guys don't have to answer, not right now at least. You're all about to step into a world of hurt, where one person kills another just to survive. It's as simple as that so don't make it any more complex. There are no questions about this game, except for one: Could you kill your own best friend?"
The chilling words caught everyone off-guard. Could anyone really kill their own best friend? Would they? Who knows? Mr. Yamamoto waited for his words to sink in then read off the first name on his student roster.
"First up is Boy #1, Masaharu Morimoto."
Shrieking, Masaharu hopped out of his seat and staggered through the rows of desks in order to get to the front of the class. Beads of sweat trickled down his tan skin and soaked the collar of his button-up shirt. As he moved towards the soldiers and Mr. Yamamoto, Masaharu could tell his legs weren't moving properly; they were pretty wobbly and tried to move in every direction except forward.
The game hadn't even started yet and fear had already devoured him. Masaharu cursed himself in his mind, thinking how weak he was. You're probably gonna end up dead first, he thought. These sons of bitches are gonna come at you from all corners and stab you to death.
"Hurry up, Masaharu," Mr. Yamamoto said emotionlessly.
"Yes, sir," Masaharu replied. He finally reached the front of the class and was handed a survival pack by one of the soldiers.
"Take your backpack out of here," the other soldier told him when he reached his shelf. Masaharu looked up and down the shelf, searching for his backpack. He had actually found it already, but he wanted to buy some time. God I knew I should've just stayed home, he continued thinking as he stalled. I could be home eating ice cream right now, but no I just had to come on this trip. I'm a fucking idiot. "Any time now," the soldier said, interrupting his thoughts.
"S-sorry," Masaharu mumbled as he grabbed his gray backpack. With one last gloomy look at his class, Masaharu stepped out of the classroom and charged down the hallway.
"Girl #1, Ai Kanezawa, come on up."
Ai got out of her seat and blew a kiss to Keigo. She then turned to her two friends in the class and gave them somber looks. She proceeded to walk up to the first soldier, who threw her a survival pack, then grabbed her pink backpack out of the others. Sitting, the remaining students of Takami High School's Class A could hear her tiny feet make sounds as she walked down the hall. The footsteps got louder as she changed her pace, and soon they were gone.
One by one, Class A was reduced in size as its students made their way outside. After Ban Takahashi (Boy #7) left the classroom, Mr. Yamamoto called Hyori Shibasaki (Girl #7) up to the front. Hyori was seated in the very back of the classroom in the row closest to the window. She slowly got up out of her seat and walked passed several of her classmates before making it up to the shelf of duffel bags. As Hyori strode up the rows, she couldn't help but feel sadness. After years of despising most of her classmates, Hyori now felt sorry for them. How ironic that the people she didn't even like, she couldn't kill. The soldier beside the survival packs threw one at her. Hyori caught it with both hands and slung it around her shoulder. She reached the other shelf and found her turquoise-colored backpack out of the rainbow of bags. Without one glance at her classmates, Hyori exited the classroom, her head hung low.
The next to leave was Uryuu. Uryuu Karasu (Boy #8) got up from his desk and walked up to the front of the class strongly. Instead of letting the soldier throw him a survival pack, he grabbed one himself and flashed an angry, defiant glare at his teacher. It looked as if he was about to grab Mr. Yamamoto by the collar of his leisure suit and wring him out. The soldiers probably thought that's exactly what he was about to do so they quickly blocked Uryuu's way. Smirking at the soldiers and Mr. Yamamoto, Uryuu extended his right arm and ripped his red backpack off the shelf, his eyes still on the bastards that forced him and the rest of his class into this game. Saluting his classmates, Uryuu stepped out the doorway and stared down the long, dark hallway. To Uryuu, the hallway seemed to lead to an endless abyss of darkness and despair. For an obscenely long time, Uryuu never thought about crying. But now, it felt like it was the only thing he could do. Of course he was a great fighter, but no way could he ever kill his classmates no matter how much he hated some of them. Crying truly seemed to be the only thing he could do at the moment. However, he chose against it. Even though this was probably the last time he'd see any of these people, he didn't want their last memory of him to be one of him crying. Giving one last look to his classmates, Uryuu turned and ran down the hallway.
Soon, more than a quarter of Class A had left the classroom. The next to go was Enishi Tenken (Boy #13). As he got up from his seat, he almost looked robotic. Without missing a step, Enishi headed towards the two shelves. As he walked, he appeared bored or dull as if none of what Mr. Yamamoto told everyone hit him. The soldier who had handed out twelve survival packs already tossed one to Enishi. The Chief of Police's son caught it with one arm and slung it over his shoulder. He looked at Mr. Yamamoto through the corner of his eye and proceeded to leave the classroom.
"Aren't you forgetting something, Mr. Tenken?" Mr. Yamamoto reminded him.
"I don't need the backpack. Just keep it," Enishi replied in his smooth, kind voice just before he turned away from sight of his classmates.
Mr. Yamamoto made a face at Enishi and looked down at his clipboard. The next name was Megumi Matsuda. "Girl #13, Megumi Matsuda!"
Gulping, Megumi stood up and looked at the rest of her classmates. They all looked back with sorrowful expressions. She almost began to cry, but tried her best to force the tears back. She already cried as her best friend, Hikari Satomi (Girl #9), left earlier so she didn't feel like crying any more. For someone who was usually strong-willed and powerful, she was awfully distressed now. Her legs shaking, Megumi reached the shelves and was handed a duffel bag while she found her own bag from the rest. Slowly, Megumi strode down the hallway into the unknown. Being the daughter of a retired army man and the granddaughter of a ruthless corporation owner, Megumi was taught that the only thing that could kill you was fear. That strong state of mind allowed Megumi to win several medals in athletics, but here, it meant nothing. Fear had certainly consumed her already so she was probably as good as dead. As she made her way through the long, dimly-lit hallway, though, Megumi knew fear wasn't the only thing that could kill you out there. She had already watched twenty-five people leave the room and any one of them could kill her now. Taking one deep breath, Megumi was pushed aside by a large, hulking figure. Her body froze as if she had stepped in cold ice. The figure that walked passed her was Komamura Tamayama. Was he going to play? Would he be the one to kill her? Thoughts raged within Megumi's mind as she continued down the hallway. Finally, before leaving the school and stepping into danger, she unzipped her survival pack and found her weapon. It was a SPAS-12 pump action shotgun.
Back in the classroom, Hiro Kurosawa (Boy #21) sat absentmindedly as his classmates left the room one by one. Komamura had just left and Rangiku was called up next. Though he wasn't a pervert, Hiro was just like any other guy. He watched Rangiku's voluptuous body leave her seat and walk up to the front of the class. Her slender body paused for a second to look for her backpack, a pink bag that she slung around one arm. The backpack was the last thing Hiro saw of her before she disappeared into the hallway. Sucks someone as beautiful as her has to die in this miserable place.
Thinking back on his life, Hiro thought that maybe it was actually good that he didn't get too close to his classmates. If he had gotten even an inch closer to them, Hiro would've probably been the first to die. Not that he was weak, but Hiro was way too compassionate for his own good. In school, he often got into fights because he protected those who couldn't protect themselves even if he didn't have a clue who they were. Shit, even now in the direst of situations, he couldn't help but think about helping his classmates get off this damned island. With a half smile on his face, Hiro sighed and hung his head back so his eyes stared up at the dirty, white ceiling. Lights blinded his dark brown eyes as he stared up at them, but he didn't care at all at the moment. He just wanted to doze off in class one last time before having to say goodbye. Hanging his head back in his chair was a habit for Hiro; he did almost every day in class. His classmates thought he was just zoning out, thinking blankly about nothing. However, he did in fact contemplate many things while he zoned out.
Though he heard each of his classmates' names called, Hiro didn't look back at them once. He heard the name Tetsuo Kaneda called and heard the boy in front of him get out of his seat. So that's his name? Hiro never really bothered to get to know his classmates' names for he never planned on interacting with them much. This was one of the boys he ended up talking to though. Even if it was just for barely a second, he remembered the boy's simple act of kindness.
Tetsuo grabbed his backpack from the shelf and looked at his classmates. "Good luck," he mouthed before making his exit.
After watching the boy leave, Hiro hung his head back again. The last name he heard called before his own was Hikaru Samejima (Girl #20). Eyes still staring up at the ceiling, Hiro could only hear the young girl weeping as she left the classroom. That was one of the sounds he hated to hear: the cries of women. It made him cringe, the thought of a woman crying. He had to suck it up, though, considering his name was about to be called.
"Boy #21, Hiro Kurosawa," Mr. Yamamoto announced.
Flinging his head back forward, Hiro glared at Mr. Yamamoto and stood up. The only person left in the room besides him, his teacher, and the guards was a girl whose name he didn't even know. The girl was quite ugly, unlike a lot of the other girls Hiro had seen in class. Nevertheless, he flashed her a genuinely kind smile and said, "Good luck."
Glancing one last time at the classroom, Hiro saw Ichigo and Yamato's rotting corpses beside one another. The blood spurting from Ichigo's neck had stopped and the blood splattered all over the place dried out. On the floor, Yamato's blood had also dried. It crusted the white floor and Ichigo's white shoes. The blood had also created a trail that led straight to Ichigo's severed head. Shifting his glance to the soldier in front of him, Hiro caught his assigned survival pack and passed the other soldier.
"Keep my backpack," Hiro told Mr. Yamamoto. Of all the times he spoke to Mr. Yamamoto, this was probably the first he actually looked the man dead in the eyes. "Send it to my father. Tell him I got caught anyways, but thanks."
Giving Mr. Yamamoto a mysterious smile, Hiro turned and left the classroom. As the enigma that was Hiro Kurosawa disappeared into the hallway, Mr. Yamamoto eyed him. He never met nor heard about Hiro's family so he didn't really know what Hiro meant by that last statement. In fact, he thought Hiro was a street urchin considering he was always just walking around town with no one but himself to keep him company. He did see him with that strange boy, Enishi Tenken, a few times though. Shrugging the thoughts away, Mr. Yamamoto looked at Yuriko Kuriyama and announced her name and student number.
Outside, Hiro marched down the dark hallway that was lined with soldiers carrying assault rifles. He always heard the phrase 'dead man walking' but now, he actually felt like he was a dead man walking. All he could hear now was the sound of his ominous footsteps heading towards the bitter, inevitable end. All he could see was the shadows hoping to consume him with their darkness. Suddenly, the shadows disappeared and were replaced by a bright, white light hanging above the exit. So this is it, huh – game time? Now, walking into open arms, Hiro was armed with nothing but a switch-blade, which he flipped open as he exited the school.
40 Students Remaining