Finally Shogo said, “Do you know what happens to the survivor of this game?”
Shuya and Noriko looked at each other and shook their heads. That was right, there was one survivor in the Program. After you manage to make it through this absurd game, the Special Defense Forces soldiers shove you in front of the news cameras so they can have an image of the victor (“Smile. You must smile.”). But they had no idea what happened to the survivor after that.
Shogo looked at Shuya and Noriko and continued, “The winner’s forced to transfer to another school where he or she is ordered not to mention the game and is instructed instead to lead a normal life. That’s all.”
Shuya felt his chest well up inside and his face froze. He stared at Shogo and realized that Noriko was holding her breath.
Shogo said, “I was a student in Third Year Class C, Second District, Kobe, Hyogo Prefecture.” He added, “I survived the Program held in Hyogo Prefecture last year.”
27
Shogo’s face softened as he continued, “They even gave me a card autographed by the Dictator. What an honor that was. It looked like some kid scribbled on it, though I can’t remember the details, since I tossed it into recycling.”
In sharp contrast to Shogo’s cheery voice, Shuya took a deep breath. It was true any third-year junior high school student could get thrown into the Program, but how could you end up in it twice? Of course if he didn’t have to stay back, it would never have happened, but even so the chances were as slim as winning the lottery. But now it all made sense how Shogo was so familiar with the game, how he noticed the sleeping gas, and of course, the scars all over his body… but if it was true it was completely outrageous.
“That’s…” Shuya said, “that’s outrageous.”
Shogo shrugged. “The game was in July, but because I suffered heavy injuries, I was hospitalized for a long time. It gave me time though to study a bunch of things including stuff about this country—but only while lying in bed. The nurses and staff were really generous and brought me books from the library. I guess the hospital was my school. In any case, that was how I ended up repeating third year all over again. But…”
Shogo looked at them.
“…I have to say, even I didn’t expect I’d be in this game again.”
Of course. Shuya recalled their recent—actually it was already three hours ago—conversation. When Shuya asked, “Did you already kill someone before Kyoichi?” and Shogo had answered, “Well, this time, it was my first.”
Noriko then asked. “So those who’ve been selected…” She rephrased the question, perhaps thinking that it sounded too much like winning a sweepstakes prize, “So the ones who’ve been in it already aren’t exempt?”
Shogo grinned. “I suppose not, since I’m here. From what we’re told, classes are chosen randomly by computer, right? My experience gives me the upper hand, but I guess the computer doesn’t exclude me. So here’s another case of perverted equality.”
Shogo cupped his hands around the lighter and lit another cigarette.
“Now you understand how I detected the gas odor. Not to mention…” he pointed at the scar above his left brow, “this scar.”
“How could they?” Noriko said as if she were about to cry. “It’s too awful.”
“Come on, Noriko.” Shogo broke into a smile. “Now I get the chance to save you guys.”
Shuya offered his hand to Shogo.
“What’s this? I can’t read your palm.”
Shuya smiled and shook his head. Then he said, “I’m sorry I suspected you. A handshake. We’re sticking together till the very end.”
Shogo replied, “All right.” He gripped Shuya’s hand and shook it. Noriko smiled in relief.
28
Kinpatsu Sakamochi (supervisor) was sitting at his faculty desk, rummaging through some scattered documents. To the north and south of him, a Special Defense Forces soldier stood by steel-plated windows equipped with gun ports. The lights inside stayed on because the building let hardly any sunlight in. Five or six soldiers were sitting at a desk facing Sakamochi, staring at a row of desktop computer monitors. Another three soldiers were wearing headphones connected to another machine that wasn’t a computer. On the west wall was a large generator powering the lights, computers and other equipment. The generator’s low hum filled up the room over the sound insulation. The other soldiers were taking a break in the room the students had been in.
“Now then, Yumiko Kusaka died at 8:42 a.m. and, uh huh, Yukiko Kitano, she also died at forty-two minutes after the hour.” He combed his long hair back behind his ears. “Ahh—I’m so busy!”
The old black phone on the desk rang, and with his pen still in hand, Sakamochi distractedly picked up the receiver.
“Yes, this is Okishima Island School, Third Year Class B, Shiroiwa Junior High School Program Headquarters,” Sakamochi answered haphazardly, when all of a sudden he stood up straight, cradling the receiver with both hands.
“Yes sir. This is Sakamochi, Superintendent. I appreciate all you’ve recently done for us. Yes sir. My second kid just turned two. Yes, and the wife’s getting bigger by the day with the third. Oh, no. Well, we just want to contribute to our nation, joining the fight against its dwindling youth population. And how can I help you, sir?”
Sakamochi listened for a while, and then smiled, “Ah ha. My oh my. So you’ve got your money on Shogo Kawada? I’m betting on Kazuo Kiriyama. I have my money on him. Well, yes, Shogo Kawada is serious competition. He has experience, which is almost unheard of. Of course he’s still alive. And how are you, sir? My, that’s impressive. Excuse me? The current status? I believe you have access to it on the monitor. The central government’s top secret website—oh, you’re not good with computers? Uh, well sir, then yes, if you could just hold on a moment, sir.”
Sakamochi put down his receiver for a moment and then called on a tough looking soldier sitting in front of the monitors, “Hey, Kato. Is Kawada still with those two?”
The soldier named Kato tapped silently on his keyboard and curtly replied, “He is.”
The radar in the students’ collars enabled them to plot out each student’s location on a map on the monitor. Sakamochi was about to frown at Kato’s gruff attitude, but then realized how Kato was only one of the many problem students he’d had ever since he was a junior high school teacher, so it was nothing new. He picked up the receiver.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, sir. Let’s see. Shogo Kawada is proceeding with two other students. That’s Shuya Nanahara and Noriko Nakagawa. Let’s see. Well, they’re actually talking about escaping together. Would you like to hear our recording of their conversations? Oh yes, sir. Hmm, I’m not sure if he is sincere. I mean it’s hard to say, but I’d say it’s a bluff. Probably. I mean it’s impossible to escape. Oh, and yes, hold on, one moment, sir. Documents, documents. Yes, Shogo Kawada, right? He didn’t appear to have been the controversial type at his previous school. No anti-government actions or statements. Yes. His father died during the previous game. Looks like his father got drunk and provoked the government… but apparently Kawada himself said, ‘Good riddance. He was a bastard anyway.’ Hmmm, they probably didn’t get along. Maybe his father insisted on some compensation. Yessir. If that’s so, then he’s better off with those two than fighting alone. Shuya Nanahara is an excellent athlete, so he’ll be useful. Although Noriko Nakagawa is injured. Yes, our Tahara shot her. Yes, of course. They totally trust Shogo Kawada. Helping an injured girl, I mean, how brilliant. His conversation has been most impressive.”