Everyone looked back to the last row, where Kiriyama was sitting. (Shogo Kawada was the only who didn’t turn. He just continued to chew his gum.)
Sakamochi gestured with his hand, “As soon as you leave here. So you all might want to hide out to cook up your own strategies… since it’s night right now.”
Kazuo Kiriyama didn’t respond. Shuya finally confirmed it was midnight, or 1 a.m.—no, it was already near 1:30 a.m.
After cutting open the envelope Sakamochi pulled out from it a white sheet of paper, and he unfolded it. His mouth formed an “O” and he remarked, “What a coincidence! It’s student No. 1. Yoshio Akamatsu.”
Hearing the announcement, Yoshio Akamatsu, who sat at the front row of the column near the windows (steel plates), looked shaken. He was 180 centimeters tall, weighing 90 kilograms, so he was large, but he couldn’t even catch a fly ball, nor could he run a full lap around the track. Yoshio was always bumbling through gym class. Now his lips were pale blue.
“Hurry up, Yoshio Akamatsu,” Sakamochi said. Yoshio held the bag he’d packed for the study trip and staggered to his feet. He made his way forward and received his day pack from the camouflaged trio, who now held their rifles at their waists. He stood at the open door and faced the darkness. He looked back at everyone with a terrified face, but then a moment later he vanished beyond the door. Two or three footsteps turned into the pounding sound of his running, which then faded away. It sounded like he fell once but then it sounded like he dashed off again.
In the quiet room several students took a deep, restrained breath.
“Now we will wait two minutes. Then the next one will be Female Student No. 1, Mizuho Inada—”
This routine continued ruthlessly on and on like this.
But there was something Shuya noticed when Female Student No. 4 Sakura Ogawa got up to leave. Sakura sat two seats behind Shuya, in the very last row. As she made her way to the exit, she touched the desk of her boyfriend Kazuhiko Yamamoto and left a piece of paper behind for him. She might have dashed off a message on that sheet of paper on which they’d been instructed to write, “We will kill each other.”
Shuya might have been the only one who saw this. At the very least Sakamochi didn’t seem to notice. Kazuhiko snatched the scrap of paper and clenched it tightly under his desk. Shuya felt a wave of relief. They weren’t all consumed by this insanity yet. The bonds of love had yet to be severed. But… what was her message? Shuya wondered as she left the classroom.
Maybe—he glanced at the map Sakamochi had scrawled on the blackboard—she’d designated one of the areas for a meeting? But that map on the blackboard was too crude, and there was no guarantee at all it’d correspond to the maps they were given. Maybe she indicated a general direction or distance. Besides, the fact that they wanted to secretly meet only meant they didn’t trust anyone else and they were certain others would try to kill them. Which in the end meant they were falling into Sakamochi’s trap.
Shuya thought, I have no idea what lies beyond this room but I should at the very least be able to wait outside and talk to the students after me. None of Sakamochi’s rules prohibit me from doing this. Everyone might be panicking from suspicion, but if we can just get together and discuss the situation then I’m sure we can come up with a plan. Plus, Noriko was the one who came immediately after him (could she walk though?). Shinji Mimura also came after him. Hiroki Sugimura would leave before him though….
Shuya considered passing a note to Hiroki but his seat was too far. Besides, if he tried anything he could end up like Fumiyo Fujiyoshi.
Hiroki Sugimura was up next. His eyes met Shuya’s briefly right before he exited the room’s sliding door… but that was all. In his mind, Shuya sighed deeply. He could only hope Hiroki had the same idea and would be waiting outside. If he could talk the others into waiting too…
In front and behind him, the quiet ones, Shogo Kawada, Kazuo Kiriyama, and Mitsuko Souma, left one by one.
Chewing his gum, Shogo exited with an indifferent look on his face, completely ignoring Sakamochi and the camouflaged trio. Kiriyama and Souma left the same way.
Of course. When Sakamochi said, “There are others willing to do it,” the rest of the class must have immediately suspected these three students. Because they were “delinquents.” They might not think twice about killing the others in order to survive….
But Shuya doubted Kazuo Kiriyama would. Kazuo had his own gang. On top of that, his gang was a lot tighter than your typical group of buddies. Hiroshi Kuronaga, Ryuhei Sasagawa, Sho Tsukioka, and Mitsuru Numai. The rules of this game turned everyone else into your enemy, but the five of them killing each other was unimaginable. Besides— Shuya made a careful note of this—when he left, his boys looked disturbingly calm. Kazuo probably passed around a note to the others. He’s probably planning an escape for the five of them. Kazuo was more than capable of out-maneuvering the government. Of course, this also meant that Kazuo wouldn’t trust anyone besides his gang.
Mitsuko Souma had a similar kind of group. Her seat was too far from the others, Hirono Shimizu and Yoshimi Yahagi, for her to be able to pass them notes. But… Mitsuko Souma was a girl. There was no way she would play this game.
Shogo Kawada was the only one who troubled Shuya. Shogo Kawada had no group. In fact he didn’t even have a single friend. Ever since he transferred to their school, he hardly spoke to anyone in the class. On top of that, there was something elusive about Shogo. Even if he ignored the rumors, there were those wounds covering his entire body…
Could it be that… Shogo might be the only one willing to participate in this game? It was certainly possible.
But Shuya knew the moment he turned suspicious he was giving into the government, so he immediately dismissed the thought… though he had trouble dismissing the thought entirely.
Time passed.
Many of the girls were crying as they left.
Although it felt incredibly short, an hour must have passed according to his calculations (of course with Yoshitoki Kuninobu the elapsed time was reduced by two minutes). Female Student No. 14 Mayumi Tendo vanished into the hall, and Sakamochi called out, “Male Student No. 15, Shuya Nanahara.”
Shuya grabbed his bag and stood up. He thought, I did all I could before leaving the classroom.
Instead of heading directly to the exit, he took the aisle on his left. Noriko turned around and watched Shuya approaching her.
Sakamochi raised his voice, “Shuya,” and his knife. “Wrong direction.”
Shuya stopped. The three soldiers had their rifles cocked. His throat stiffened. Then he said nervously, “Yoshitoki Kuninobu was my friend. The least I could do is close his eyes. According to the Great Dictator’s education policy, we’re supposed to respect the dead.”
Sakamochi hesitated for a moment, but then he grinned and put his knife down.
“You’re so caring, Shuya. All right then.”
Shuya took a small breath, then stepped forward. He stopped in front of Noriko’s desk, where Yoshitoki’s corpse was lying.
Although he’d demanded the right to close his friend’s eyes, he couldn’t help but freeze up.
Now that he was up close he saw, courtesy of the frivolous one, thin, red flesh and something white in Yoshitoki’s blood-stained short hair. He realized it was bone. Thanks to the bullets wedged inside his head, Yoshitoki’s big eyes bulged out even further. He looked stupefied with the upturned eyes of a starving refugee waiting to be fed. Pink, slimy liquid consisting of blood and saliva dripped out of his mouth, which opened slightly. Dark blood poured out of his nostrils. It flowed down his chin and into the pool of blood pouring out of his chest. It was horrible.