Author's Notes:

-There isn't too much to explain here, so I'll make it as quick and painless as possible.

-+-Hyakkaou Private Academy, the school all the main characters attend, has no adult supervision and/or higher authority whatsoever. If there were, they probably would have put a stop to the vast majority of the events of the series. Furthermore, because all the attendees of the academy are incredibly wealthy, going to the police doesn't seem to be a viable option either (no one tried it in the series, even when one of the main characters got poisoned as part of a gamble).

-+-Speaking of gambles, after school, the classrooms turn into gambling halls. Each student in the academy is "ranked" for how much they've won in sanctioned, on-site gambles. Those with the lowest ranks become "house pets," who are essentially slaves for the rest of the student body.

-I could probably get away with rating this story T, but I don't want to take my chances, so I've rated it M just to be safe. Therefore, this story is rated M for language and just about everything Midari does.

-There's really not much else to say. I hope you enjoy the story, and thank you for reading!


One-Track Mind


My stomach churns as I search for a bathroom. While part of that stems from going heavy on the wasabi at lunch (for while it burns so good, it messes up my digestion so bad) the rest comes from nerves; the tingly, fluttery kind I never get anymore.

Since no one's set up any games on this side of the academy, the hallways are deserted. Whatever, I can't stand most of the other people in the gambling rooms anyway. The only things keeping them motivated to play are money and power, and I don't give a shit about either, despite once having a seat on the Student Council and being head of the Beautification Committee.

I turn the corner, revealing yet another unoccupied hall, this one with a girls' bathroom. Good. I feel like I'm about to explode and some privacy will do wonders for the effectiveness of what I've planned.

Without hesitation, I slip in through the door, revealing the bathroom, pristine as usual. Not very surprising considering we have house pets to do all the cleaning here. What is surprising, however, is that there's another girl in the bathroom, scrubbing her hands furiously over the sink before running them through her chin-length brown hair, a comb by her side.

One glance in the mirror is enough to confirm that she is who I think she is; Nanami, that girl Yumeko squared off against in a game of Indian poker a few weeks ago. Even if I can get everything into motion without making a sound, it's probably best to get her out of the bathroom. If Ayame calls me instead of texting, everything goes out the window. Furthermore, Nanami owes Yumeko everything after that game, so I doubt she's very sympathetic toward my plans.

Thankfully, it won't take much to get rid of her. Usually, just seeing me is enough to scare most off. So I just stand at the sink next to Nanami's, in clear view of the mirror, and wait. Sure enough, once she looks up again, I hear a muffled squeak before she turns to face me.

"Oh," I say, trying to look innocent. "Hello. Just here to clean up."

Nanami attempts to look all casual and relaxed, but she doesn't spend much longer at the sink, toweling her hands off before almost running out of the bathroom. Satisfied that I'm practically guaranteed to be alone for a little while, I move to the stall farthest from the door. Once I've done my business, I pull out the two things I've been carrying in my pockets: my cell phone and my favorite pistol.

The pistol I don't need yet. There's no need to make things hot and heavy now, instead I should save it for once I go to the basement. I just need to wait for Ayame to text me and then we can get the ball rolling.

It doesn't take long before I get the text I'm waiting for. "We got him."

Sure enough, it's from Ayame, and even includes a picture of the deed. While her phone is a piece of shit and her camera work isn't much better, that doesn't matter too much. Despite the image being blurry and requiring focus to understand, anyone with the slightest bit of brainpower could figure out who the figure at the center was, and anyone knowing the text was directed to me would understand why he was in handcuffs and being manhandled by three girls (one of which has a very sharp knife in hand).

I send a text right back. "Nice work. Meet you in the basement in a few." Then, I stash both the pistol and the phone back in my pockets before standing up.

I'm tempted to start laughing, but I stop at the last second. Not here, not now. Wait until everything's ready, then celebrate.

A spring in my step, I exit the bathroom, making a near-beeline for the basement.


The academy basement looks the same as it always does: drab concrete walls with simple wooden doors set in them, spiderwebs in every corner, harsh overhead lights searing into your eyes. I find it comforting, though. Very few people ever come down here (of their own accord, anyway), so nine times out of ten, I have the whole place to myself.

This time, one of the doors to my left is open a crack, which is all the signal I need. I push the door the rest of the way open, revealing the room Yumeko and I used to play Russian Roulette less than two weeks ago- one of my fondest memories of my time here. Beautification Committee members Ayame, Naoe, and Nana are standing off to the side, but that's not the change in normalcy that I care about. This time, the wonderful device I used for the more recent game with Yumeko a few days ago takes up the center of the room, the painted metal shiny enough to reflect the ceiling light and the blade looking as sharp and vicious as ever. There are only three differences from the last time I saw it that I can see: one, the iron plate preventing the blade from slicing all the way down is gone; two, there are only ten strings on the device instead of twenty (one holds up the blade, the rest are decoys); and three, this time our contestant's wagered their whole hand, not just a measly finger.

Ryota's looking at me with an expression that radiates pure fear. One hand's handcuffed to a beam jutting out from the wall so he can't try to pull away, while the other's fastened under the blade with an improvised vise made from a belt, two metal rings, and some nails. It appears to be working just as planned (which was expected, since I made it and tested it myself), as he's not budging an inch.

"This is sick, even for you," Ryota says. "What the fuck goes on in your head that makes you think this is okay?"

Ooh, an easy one. "The ends justify the means, Ryota. And I don't intend to cut a single string. If Yumeko does what I say, you'll be out of here before you know it, and with all your limbs attached."

Before he can ask the obvious follow-up, I cut him off, grabbing his phone out of his pocket. Ryota protests for a second, but a few suggestive motions later, he shuts up.

His phone doesn't even have a passcode, so it doesn't take long for me to find his pitiful list of contacts and scroll down to the very last one. Two taps later, Yumeko's being called on speakerphone.

I turn to Ryota, making sure to smile. "When she picks up, you keep your mouth zipped. Okay?"

Ryota nods.

But Yumeko doesn't pick up. Instead, the phone rings all of six times before I hear her voicemail greeting. "Sorry I couldn't pick up your call, I guess I don't have my phone on me at the moment. I'll call you back as soon as I can, but feel free to leave a message after the beep!"

Her phone beeps, and I hope I leave a pretty compelling message. "Yumeko, you and I both know you're smart enough to figure out what's going on. If you care at all about the health or limbs of your little boyfriend, I suggest you call me back in a hurry." Then, I hang up, waiting as my adrenaline begins surging.

If nothing else, Yumeko is quite timely. It hasn't even been two minutes when Ryota's phone starts ringing again. Before it can even finish its first ring, I answer it. "Hello?"

"Midari," Yumeko says, her voice sweet but laced with enough poison to kill an elephant. "What have you done with Ryota?"

"Oh, nothing," I say back, "I just brought him down to the basement to play a game."

"Leave him out of this," Yumeko says, her facade starting to crumble. "Find someone else like you to play your games."

"I believe I already have," I say, hoping the smile I have isn't translating through the phone.

"What are you…" I can almost hear the lightbulb turning on as Yumeko puts the pieces together. "I already told you I never wanted to see your face again. Now, release Ryota before I come down there and-"

"I wouldn't try anything rash," I say, holding back laughter. "For you see, that device we used for our last game is still operational, and it's got a new contestant. And let's just say I removed the safety net for this go-around…"

Yumeko's rage begins to pour through the phone, thick and toxic. "You wouldn't…"

"That's the difference between us," I say, "I totally would. I have a nice little game set up for just the two of us in the basement. You have five minutes to get down here, alone, before I start cutting strings. You'll love this one, I can guarantee it. Ta-ta!"

On that note, I end the call, slamming Ryota's phone back into his pocket. Then, Ayame produces a deck of cards, while I take out my pistol. I'm not sure if I loaded it or not before I kicked everything off, but who the hell cares? That's part of the fun.

Just for a kick, I point the gun at myself, bliss starting to creep up around me, and fire. Nothing.

Yes. Yes!

I've cheated death once again, and my goddess is coming down to play once more.

This is the best day of my life.


Five minutes have almost passed, and Ryota's starting to lose it a little. He keeps yanking on the vise and the handcuffs, but neither of them budges an inch. Good, at least it means the things were well-constructed.

I've sent Ayame and Nana up to the top of the basement stairs to make sure Yumeko doesn't bring any company along with her, and Naoe's gone to look for bullets for my pistol (which happened to be empty), leaving me alone with Ryota. I'd start a conversation with him to pass the time, but he appears to be in no mood for small talk.

Naoe slips back into the room, one fist closed. "I could only find two bullets, Midari," she says.

"Oh, don't worry," I reply. "Two's enough for the game I have set up."

That game, of course, is based on one of the simplest card games known to man: War. Simple enough to play: give each player one card of each rank, have them shuffle them as they please, and have each side play one card at a time. Highest card wins.

The only difference here, of course, involves my pistol. The loser puts two bullets in any of the six chambers and then spins the chamber to ensure randomness. The winner then takes the gun and fires it at the loser. The game ends when either all cards have been played or (and this is vastly preferable) someone gets shot.

Wait… does Yumeko prefer aces to be the highest-value or lowest-value cards? Whatever, I can ask her when she gets down here. That has to be soon, anyway.

Oh! That reminds me. It's been five minutes. Time to cut the first string! Let's hope this one's not the only thing between Ryota and dismemberment!

Nana left the knife she used to help detain Ryota earlier behind, which is just serendipity, considering before I was just planning on using safety scissors, which have a terribly misleading name, by the way. They're sharp objects! Any idiot could make them unsafe.

Without hesitation, I slice through the closest thread to me, taking care not to hit any of the others. Ryota flinches, but the blade stays where it is. Good. Just a decoy. But the odds will only get higher from here on out.

Suddenly, I hear Yumeko's voice from the top of the stairs, saying, "Midari called me, and I'm pretty sure you're in on this too, so please let me through."

They appear to do that, as right afterward, three sets of footsteps begin echoing down the stairs.

Bliss is threatening to cloud up everything again, but I force it down, at least for now. It's time. It's time!

Then Ayame, Nana, and Yumeko enter the room all at once, all of them looking lovely as ever, even as Yumeko seethes with rage.

Ryota turns her head to face the newcomers. "Thank you, Yumeko."

"Don't worry about it," she says sweetly. "This won't be the first time I've done something like this."

Then she looks at me, her smile fading. "Well, right after I beat the shit out of-"

"Careful," I say, grinning from ear to ear. "I'm the one with the knife here. Now, I'll explain how our game is going to work so we can get started."

"Oh, no need," says Yumeko, "because I won't be playing."

My surging heart skips at least three beats, and I think Ryota's eyes are trying to escape from his head. Every emotion I've felt for the past few minutes flees, leaving just a blank void behind. All I can do for now is to try and mask that. "What?"

"I said I won't be playing. The only reason I even came down is because Ryota's involved. After the last-" she pauses for a second here- "incident, I realized that I never wanted to see your face around here again, let alone play another one of your games. So, I will be taking Ryota and leaving." With that, she reaches into her shirt and pulls out a knife quite similar to mine, probably to cut Ryota free.

Joy fades, being forced aside by pure, uncontrolled rage. "Ayame, could you kindly hold Yumeko back for a few seconds?" Then, I advance to the machine, holding my knife right next to the strings.

Ryota's thrashing now, struggling to pull free, while Ayame, Nana, and Naoe disarm Yumeko and hold her still, at least for now. That's just fine. I only need a second.

"I didn't want to do this, but you leave me no choice."

And I slice my knife through the rest of the threads, sending the blade careening toward Ryota's hand. Everyone in the room screams, albeit for vastly different reasons. I await the rush of ecstasy that's to come from seeing the blade bite into Ryota's hand-

And then the blade stops, well short of its intended target.

And then the blade stops.

Wait… what? How?

I got rid of the safeguards myself. And I hid them in my backpack to make sure no one could reinstall them while I was gone. So why? Are? They? STILL? THERE!?

I turn to Ryota as Yumeko runs to him, her expression unchanged while his morphs to something that resembles exhaustion. Right then and there, it takes all my restraint to not start screaming at the ceiling.

All this work, all this effort, for Yumeko to laugh in my face and ruin everything.

Why must fate be so cruel?

Then, with a sickeningly high-pitched giggle that I've come to know and despise over the years, Runa comes striding in with the same stupid hoodie she's worn every day since she got here. Once she's there, the realization hits me like a trainwreck. This wasn't bad luck. This whole thing had been doomed from the start.

Yumeko's finished slicing through the belt, freeing one of Ryota's hands. Since there's no point in even resisting now that Runa's involved, I tell Yumeko where to find the key for Ryota's handcuffs (the next room down, hidden under a plastic cup), and she slips out the door to look for them.

Runa turns to face me, wearing an expression I want to punch right off her face. "You seriously thought I wouldn't notice you moving the finger guillotine, let alone modifying it? Erimi had to run the design past Kirari before it could even get in the door. Plus, everyone who goes here knows about your, ahem, kinks by now. We all figured you'd try something like this sooner or later."

I'm trying to keep it together here, not wanting to make a fool of myself in front of this utter bitch. "But I took out the iron plate this morning! And I checked the device when I got here! How is it still not working?"

"Because," Runa says, drawing out the word for maximum annoyance, "Kirari sends a couple of former members of the student council to check on it every day during lunch break so something like this doesn't happen. This time around, Yuriko and I happened to be the ones she chose. When we noticed the iron plate was missing, I called Kirari, and she came down to help us improvise a quick fix."

She points to something on the side of one of the beams near the blade. It looks like nothing more than a small rectangular bump, something I must have missed when scanning the thing. But the blade still should have come all the way down anyway! What gives?

"It's a magnet," Runa says, looking like she's feeding off my disappointment. "Because the blade is made of steel, it's guaranteed to be magnetic. Thus, we got the strongest magnet we could find from one of the science labs, superglued it to the beam, and that was that."

Before I can fume for much longer, Yumeko's returned with the handcuff key. She doesn't waste any time, quickly freeing Ryota's other hand.

Yumeko begins addressing me as soon as Ryota's bonds are no longer relevant. "You see, I took so long because the first thing I did once I got the call was find a student council member, which happened to be Runa. As soon as I told her about my situation, she reassured me that she'd installed a foolproof safety guard just this afternoon." Then, she turns to Runa. "Thanks for your help, Runa, I knew I could count on you."

"No worries! I'm an election moderator," Runa says, "and I've taken it upon myself to make sure that no dismemberment occurs as a result of this election!"

Well, at least I can say she's wrong about one thing. This has jack to do with the election. For all I care, Kirari can become the Student Council president again. The only reason I didn't outright give up my chances of winning when this whole thing started was that they bought my way into another game with Yumeko.

This was about me. All I wanted was one solitary game with her, nothing more, because she's the only person I've ever gambled with that could make me feel alive. Or feel anything, for that matter, besides pain and misery.

But as I watch her leave with Ryota, Runa trailing behind them like a slithering parasite, those feelings sink in once more. I am not getting her. I will never get her. Nothing I say or do will ever convince her to come near or acknowledge me again.

She despises me, even though I love her.

Words can't describe this feeling right now. All I want to do right now is lean against the wall and cry for a while. And right now, I do just that, tears starting to stain my dress.

This is the worst day of my life.