Battle Royale

Why...why didn't I see how kind he was? How could I not notice how someone loved me so much? If I'd thought about it, I would have realized if Hiroki wanted to kill me he could have immediately shot me with his gun. But I couldn't tell. I wasn't able to understand. I am so stupid. I—

Another memory came flashing by.

When she was telling some of her classmate friends about "that guy," Hiroki, who was nearby looking out the window, muttered, "You're being foolish, getting so worked up like that." It made her mad at the time, but in fact he was right, she was being foolish. And yet...and yet Hiroki told her he'd cherished this fool.

She simply couldn't stop crying. She pressed her cheek against his warm cheek and continued to sob. Hiroki told her to go, but she couldn't bring herself to do that. I'm going to keep on crying, I'm going to cry over the dedication (it was irreplaceable) of this boy who loved me and my foolishness (I was such a kid thinking I was actually in the running for "that guy"), I'm going to keep on crying. Even if it was suicidal in this game.

You plan on dying with him? A voice whispered to her in her thoughts.

That's right, yes, I'm going to die with him. I'm going to die for the sake of Hiroki's love for me and my foolishness.

"Then why...don't you go ahead?" the voice said.

Kayoko suddenly trembled and turned around. She saw the long, beautiful, rain-drenched hair of Mitsuko Souma (Female Student No. 11), gazing down at her, gun in hand.

BAM BAM, two dry pops formed two holes in Kayoko's right temple. Kayoko's body then landed on Hiroki Sugimura's body.

Blood slowly began flowing out of the holes in her head. The blood continued flowing down her face against the rain washing it away.

Mitsuko lowered the Smith & Wesson M19 .357 Magnum and said, "You really were a fool. You should have understood him."

Then she looked over at Hiroki's face.

"Long time no see, Hiroki. Are you glad you got to die with your beloved?"

She shook her head, disgusted, and proceeded to walk forward to pick up the Smith &Wesson M59 Kayoko dropped and the Colt Government .45 (which had been Mitsuko's) Hiroki had tossed aside.

She looked down at the intertwined bodies and put her finger against her lips.

"Now what was that about...building a fire?"

Then she shook her head. With her foot she brushed away Kayoko's skirt covering part of the M59 and reached for the blue gun, when she suddenly heard the rattling sound of an old typewriter.

6 students remaining

69

Her back was pummeled, repeatedly. Her chest burst open with blood. She staggered...and she felt something hot expand inside her, like burning embers.

She didn't feel so much the painful shock as she felt dismayed. How could she not have heard someone sneaking up behind her in this mud?

The bullets had done enough damage, but Mitsuko managed to turn around.

There was a boy in a school coat. The unique slicked-back hair, the well-defined face, the gleaming, frigid eyes. It was Kazuo Kiriyama (Male Student No. 6).

Mitsuko squeezed her right hand holding the Ml9. Her muscles were nearly disabled, but she summoned all her remaining strength and attempted to raise the gun.

Suddenly Mitsuko's thoughts—despite the fact that she was in a life-or-death confrontation—slipped into another dimension. It only lasted for a split second.

When I spoke to Hiroki Sugimura I said:

"I just decided to take instead of being taken."

That's what I said.

When did I...become like that? Was it after the time I told Hiroki about, when I was raped by three men? That day I was raped by those men with the video camera in a rundown apartment room in the shabby outskirts of town? Or maybe the moment my drunken mother (I never had a father) left the room when she received the thick envelope (it couldn't have been that thick) after taking me to that room before "it" happened? From then on? Or...was it after my elementary school teacher, the one person I thought I could trust, kindly addressed me, nearly numb from trauma, and I finally told him exactly what happened, when the look on his face changed, and it happened again? From that point on? In that small, dark reading room after school? Or after my best friend saw it (at least part of it) and instead of offering consolation, spread a rumor (which led to the teacher leaving the school)? Or was it three months later when I resisted my mother, who was trying to take me to do "it" again and accidentally ended up killing her? After getting rid of all the evidence and doing everything to make it look like a break­in, I sat on a swing in the park. From that point on? Or after being taken in by distant relatives, I was repeatedly harassed by their kid, and when the kid accidentally fell from the roof, the mother accused me of killing her since I was with her? From that point on? The father intervened and defended me, but then after a while, this father started fooling around with me. From that point on? Or...