Ryoma woke up. On the floor, of all places.

Funny. He could have sworn he'd gotten hit by the truck. At least Karupin should be safe.

From the migraine that was currently plaguing him, perhaps being dead would have been preferable.

He stared straight up, arm shading his eyes, and noted the walls. Very high, sturdy-looking walls on either side of his body.

In front of and behind him, there were paths. However, he could only see them leading to more walls.

There was a compass somehow stuffed into his pants pocket. It might have been useful, if he had any idea where he was. He also noted that someone had stuffed something into his cap. It was rather uncomfortable.

He removed the offending object, which was composed of a flat surface with a screen and buttons beside it. It looked somewhat like a video game player, only simpler.

On the top was an on/off button, which Ryoma pressed, having nothing better to do.

The screen flashed silver, and words scrolled across it. Ryoma adjusted his cap and started reading.

It said, Welcome to the Maze.

Twenty-two people, including yourself, have been selected as players to compete within this maze, Atobe read, lips pressed together tightly.

He was incredibly angry.

How dare someone kidnap him!

…Not that the attempt had not been made before, but the actual kidnapping had rarely taken place.

Besides, usually Atobe got out of pathetic efforts by poverty-stricken commoners with his usual grace, as befitting the heir of the Atobe empire.

Somehow, even kidnappers who were faced with Atobe's superior catchphrase tended to look taken aback.

Atobe had decidedly to start reconsidering his choice of employees, however. His last memory was of sleeping in his own bed and dreaming of making that Seigaku brat shave his head, or better yet, beating him in a love game.

Then, he'd found himself waking up in a place utterly devoid of luxuries or human presence, for that matter. For one of the first times in Atobe's life, he was bereft of money and credit cards. He had found, so far, only the clothes on his back – a beautiful sleeping robe, by the way – a compass, and a strange machine that he was currently reading.

Within the endlessly high walls of his surroundings and the silver-white color of everything around him, Atobe felt almost like a rat in a maze.

He shook it off. No one would dare try to manipulate or control him… would they?

The words across the screen scrolled through, and a new message appeared in front of the annoyed diva's eyes.

There is no way out of here unless through death or by winning.

Well, really! Atobe would definitely win, he was sure of that. He was the king.

…And Kabaji had better be around here somewhere. How else could he survive in comfort?

Please proceed to the starting point, where all players will be debriefed.

Kirihara was both afraid and angry. When he'd first found the handheld machine, he'd wanted to smash it in a fit of pique. Luckily, his common sense had intervened.

He was slightly worried about Mura-buchou. He'd be fine, right? Kirihara was pretty sure that he had died, and he hoped that Mura-buchou wouldn't be unhappy about it. He hated seeing his captain unhappy.

Furthermore, it meant that he'd never get to see his captain again. Worse, he'd never get his chance to play against his captain and win.

Well, maybe if he died, too…

Only, Mura-buchou was in far too good shape to just die all of a sudden, even with that disease that he'd gotten. Not to mention that his captain had overcome a mere disease with sheer force of will. Or something like that.

It wasn't fair at all, for someone like him to have gotten sick when someone far less incredible should have gotten it. Like Niou-senpai, that trick-playing jerk. Or fukubuchou. Or that blue-eyed creep. Who plays tennis without being able to see, anyway?

Oh, yeah, everyone who plays Yukimura long enough. Well, that doesn't really count.

Kirihara was sure, anyway, that even if Mura-buchou died, he wouldn't come here. Kirihara had no illusions about where he himself was going. However, Mura-buchou would definitely never end up in hell.

It was too bad. He had lost every opportunity to beat his captain now. Maybe he shouldn't have eaten so many cookies?

Nah.

If nothing else, he'd definitely made sure that Marui wouldn't be able to get a single bite! Heh, that sugar-freak would probably die of disappointment when he realized that Kirihara had finished all of it off.

First, take the path south. Keep walking until reaching the second westward path.

Well, what else could he do? Kirihara trudged forward, eyes beginning to turn a faint crimson from the sheer annoyance of being trapped there.

Within a few more directions, Kirihara felt completely lost. Everything looked the same, just an endless maze. He really hoped that the directions were leading him somewhere.

He kept on going, only he was starting to wonder. Who were the other twenty-one people?

Within the maze, there were several larger rooms strategically placed within. Some of them were larger, some smaller, and some had rather nasty surprises within.

There were people starting to gather within one of them. Twenty-two of them, to be exact.

Twenty-two middle-school boys, all of them more or less fit, came in one by one. They all appeared angry and, though most of them would never admit it, somewhat afraid. The majority of them seemed to recognize the others, immediately going over to chat. It would have been a casual get-together if not for natural hostility between rival teams and the knowledge that they were virtually prisoners.

Seigaku, Hyoutei, Rikkai.

A few fights broke out, quickly calmed down by the respective captains of the participants in the fights.

Then they started to realize that they had all died.

After a while, the machines that each boy held lit up again and a message appeared.

Once again, welcome to the Maze. Twenty-two of you are here, but only one person will make it out.

Now, here are the rules…