Chapter 5
Masaomi sized up the boy standing in front of him. He was lanky, not too short, but not incredibly tall, either. While he didn't seem to be the most physically formidable person, his brown eyes and odd smirk combined to make his face far more devious than Masaomi was comfortable with. "What's your name?"
"Kuronuma Aoba. Pleasure to meet you, Kida Masaomi." His smile grew wider.
"Did your research before you came into the arena, then?"
"Of course!" He spread out his arms wide in a sweeping motion. "It wouldn't do to be unprepared, after all. The real question is: did you do your research?"
Narrowing his eyes, Masaomi replied, "What are you implying?"
"As this is a life-or-death game, let me get to the point: How much do you trust Izaya?"
"Not much. I despise the kid, if we're being honest here."
"Good. We're on the same page, then. That'll make this relatively simple. What do you think he's really up to?"
What on earth is this kid trying to pull? He doesn't look stupid; he should know that we can't talk about the plan while we're on camera. "What everyone else is trying to do: survive."
"No, no, no. You know what I mean. He doesn't seem like the giving type to me. Why volunteer at all? Why do this?" He gestured again, making a sweeping motion with his arms.
You'd better shut up right now, kid. Are you trying to get us all killed?
"I don't trust him as far as I can throw a stick." continued Aoba, "Just what is he trying to accomplish? I don't like it, and I don't like the idea of going along with whatever h-" Suddenly, his voice was cut off, as Masaomi had sprung forward, pinning his neck between a left arm and a tree trunk.
"Now listen here, kid," he growled. "I may not trust Orihara Izaya, but I definitely don't trust you. And, like Izaya, I happen to be a volunteer. There's more than one reason to play in the games." He didn't notice Aoba's glance at his arm, or the subsequent grin. "Not all of us are saints, you know. I know a lot of people who just volunteer for the heck of it. They love the freedom. I can't say I blame them. I can do things like this," he punctuated his words by delivering a sharp right hook to Aoba's face, "without facing consequences."
Aoba spit out the blood gathering in his mouth, landing a point blank shot at Masaomi's face, which earned him a prompt drop onto the ground. As he raised a hand to his mouth, trying to nurse his wounds, his eyes looked to Masaomi's left. "You can certainly do things like that in the Hunger Games. I won't deny you that one. I'm not so sure about the whole 'no consequences' thing, though." He smiled as well as his swollen lip would allow.
One second, Masaomi was looking at Aoba with a triumphant smile, the next he was smacked into the ground on his back. "Wh-what?" he groaned.
"Did he hurt you, Aoba-kun?"
"Healthy? [Will you be alright?]"
"Yeah," the blue-haired boy looked up at them with an even bigger smile, "I'm always alright as long as you girls are around. Mairu, Kururi, where would I be without you?"
Standing in front of him were two girls, apparently twins. One had long brown hair, which was pulled back into a braid, and glasses. The other had very short hair and a subdued look on her face. Both were looking at Aoba with concern. Mairu, the one with the braid, seemed satisfied that Aoba was in no immediate danger and whipped around to face Masaomi.
"How dare you try and hurt our friend? You could've seriously injured him!" she exclaimed, hands on her hips.
The words "Well, that was kinda my intention" seemed foolish, so Masaomi decided to keep his mouth shut.
"Oh? Nothing to say?" Leaning down right next to his face, she stared at him, eyes wide. "Have Kuru-nee and I scared you into submission? My awesome moves beat you senseless?" When he didn't reply, she continued, "No? Looks like we've gotta try another round, then!"
He felt himself hoisted to his feet by strong arms, which he assumed to be Kururi, since the other two were still in his line of sight. When she let go of him, he was pleased to note that he could keep his balance. Mairu got in a fighting stance in front of him, then grinned widely. He easily dodged her first kick, narrowly missed a punch, and was only grazed by the second foot. It went downhill from there. He lost track of where her hands and feet were going and focused on staying upright, absorbing hit after hit. He managed to land at least one kick, but he might as well have not tried for all the good it did him. Mairu was everywhere, and he thought he caught sight of her standing on her hands at one point in time. For a split second, he couldn't find her, then he saw her launch herself off a tree, and he knew he was done for. Her feet collided solidly with his face, and he was pounded into the ground. Trees and sky swirled in his field of vision, and three smiling faces slowly came into focus. Aoba held up a small knife he must have picked up somewhere, and Masaomi felt a sharp pain in his neck and then his arm. A cannon went off, and the three began to back away.
"Have a good sleep!" Aoba said, waving mockingly at him. "Thanks for all the fun!"
"Shiki-san?" Tsukumoya pushed open the door again. All the workers had their eyes on the screens, watching Masaomi's body getting removed from the arena. Catching Shiki's eye, he motioned him over to the door in order to save him the trouble of dragging him across the room again.
Within seconds, Shiki had followed him back out the door. He crossed his arms, eyes narrowed. "Well? What's the verdict?"
"It must've been a bad camera angle. You just couldn't see the damage from a distance. The girls are definitely charred and completely dead."
"Get back here! Do you feel no remorse?!" Rokujo Chikage, the red-haired boy, called after the retreating form of Yumasaki Walker, who was ever so slowly getting closer.
"What is there," Chikage could hear him panting, "to regret?"
"Everything! You killed two people, but more than that, you killed two girls! Girls are to be," he was closing the gap between them with every pounding step he took, "protected! And loved! And cared for!" He could almost reach him. Three more, two more steps? "I would never hurt a girl! Anyone who does," got him! He grabbed the loop on the top of Walker's backpack and pulled him backwards, ignoring the stench of gasoline, "is my enemy." In an effortless motion, he tugged the pack off of Walker, threw it several feet to the side, and latched on to the boy's elbow. "Well?" he put his forehead up to Walker's, looking him in the eye. "What do you have to say for yourself?"
"I didn't do anything wrong! Besides, this is the only place my awesome pyrotechnic powers can be fully appreciated. It's not every day I get to play the hero without restraint. I was using my skills to try and empty out the playing field. That's within the bounds of the game, isn't it?"
"I don't find it 'within the bound of the game' when my girlfriend loses her life!"
"Maybe I should say it differently."
"That'd be a good start, kid." He now had a firm grip on both of Walker's upper arms, and was trying to restrain himself from punching his face off.
"I'm not just some vagabond who doesn't care about others. In fact-"
"Well, you do a superb job of acting like one."
He frowned at Chikage. "In fact, I'm only doing this because of how much I do care for someone."
"What's their name, then?"
"I'm not telling you. Who knows if you'd get an idea in your head and hurt her because of what I've done!"
"I don't believe you!"
"It doesn't matter if you believe me or not! I'm doing this for her, and I don't regret anything!"
"Let's say that you are. It doesn't make a difference."
"I think it does, Chivalry-san."
"Let me tell you something." He shifted his grip from Walker's arms to his throat, pushing the boy against a tree. "If you die in the Hunger Games, it's acceptable because you're defeated by another player. You can't be stronger than everyone. If you kill another player, it's acceptable because you defeated someone. You get to live another day. But, if you act inhumanely to your fellow tributes, whether you kill them or not, it means you've been defeated by the Capital. That's not acceptable."
"If I do everything on my own terms," he choked out, "I haven't been beaten by anyone, have I?" Chikage relented ever so slightly so Walker could give his last excuse. "What I did might look cruel, but I will do anything and everything to save the life of the one I love, whether it's making a contract with a demon, getting stuck in an alternate universe, sacrificing one of my limbs, or burning someone to death. Call me whatever you want; I'm willing to be branded as the villain as long as she comes out of these games alive." Then, as an afterthought, "I guess this makes me the shunned hero character, doesn't it? It could be worse, I guess."
"Whatever your excuse, I can't forgive you!" He resumed his crushing grip on Walker's throat. "I love- loved- Non too much for that! You're dead!" he shouted. And the boy would've been, if someone hadn't pulled Chikage off Walker at that very moment.
"D-Dotachin?" Walker rasped.
"And who are you?" Chikage shouted, furious that he couldn't deliver the finishing blow. He turned to face the boy who had grabbed him. He was sturdily built, with brown hair tucked underneath a grey beanie, or maybe it was a bandana. Chikage frankly didn't care. "Now what? Do you have your own insane reason for getting in the way of honor?"
"Kyohei Kadota."
He blinked. "Sorry, what?"
"You asked who I was. My name is Kyohei Kadota. What's your problem with Walker here?"
"Everything!" He threw his hands in the air, stepping closer to Kadota. "What isn't my problem with him?"
"Now, just calm down for a-"
"I refuse to be calm when a lady's honor is on the line!" he growled.
Kadota sighed. Why didn't anyone default to reasoning instead of unbridled emotion? "Is it safe to assume that he killed someone you care about?"
"Yes. A girl. And he refuses to acknowledge that he's done anything wrong."
Well, that was Walker all over. The boy had the strangest morals Kadota had ever set eyes on. Of course, this was probably not something to share with a deranged redhead who wanted the boy dead. "What's your name?"
"Rokujo Chikage."
"Well, Chikage, I'm sorry for your loss."
"You're sorry? That doesn't do me any-"
"I'm sorry because I feel I'm partially to blame," Kadota stated, hoping some of his calm demeanor would leak over to Chikage.
"And how do you figure that?"
"Walker and I go way back; we used to be in the same district until an… incident a couple of years ago. He's always looked up to me, and I look out for him and give him advice when he asks for it. I knew what he was planning to do to your girl, and I didn't stop him; I just looked on and let him do it. I didn't know how much she meant to you, so I apologize. I understand that you want repayment for Walker's actions. I'd want that, too, to be honest, but like I said, I care about him, so I can't let you kill him. " Walker saw what he was trying to do and began to push himself off from the tree he was leaning on, but Kadota waved him down. "So, I'll offer you an alternative." He spread out his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Take me instead. I should have stopped him, anyway, so you'll still have your justice. What do you think?"
Chikage seemed taken aback, mouth hanging slightly open. Then he shut it, weighing what the boy had just said. "You're actually willing to take the fall for your friend?"
"Absolutely. Go ahead and fight me. Of course, you should know that I won't be holding back."
A wide smile broke across the redhead's face. "I wouldn't want it any other way! It's been forever since I've had a proper duel."
Walker took this as his cue to make a hasty exit.
