Battle Royale

by Косюн Таками

  She thought she could hear him curse behind her. With a good runner's sprint she'd covered fifteen meters when suddenly she felt a blow against her right leg and fell face forward. Her cheek got cut as it scraped against a tree root poking out of the ground. She was more upset over this wound on her face than she was over the sharp pain in her leg. That asshole cut my face!

  Takako twisted her body around. A silver arrow pierced her skirt and was planted in the back of her right thigh. Blood dripped down her well toned leg muscles.

  Kazushi caught up with her. Seeing her sitting there, he tossed aside the bow gun and took out a pair of short sticks chained together—nunchaku—from under his belt and held them in his right hand. The chain rattled (this weapon, by the way, had been in Mayumi Tendo's day pack, which Kazushi then took after killing Yoshio Akamatsu). (His own weapon for some bizarre reason was a plain shamisen banjo that was completely useless. Of course, this had nothing to do with Takako.)

  Takako glanced at the bow gun on the ground and thought, you'll regret you put that down.

  "It's your fault," Kazushi said, panting. "You provoked me."

  Still seated, Takako glared up at Kazushi. The bastard was still making excuses. She couldn't believe she'd actually been classmates with this idiot for over two years.

  "Wait," Takako said. As Kazushi knit his brows she got on her knees and twisted her right shoulder around, pulling out the arrow in one swift motion as she clenched her teeth. She could feel the flesh tear, followed by a gush of blood. Her skirt was torn again. So now her skirt had two slits.

  She tossed the arrow aside and stood up, glaring at Kazushi. She was all right. The pain was incredible but she could take it. She shifted the ice pick over to her right hand.

  "Don't do it," Kazushi said. "It's no use."

  She tilted the ice pick sideways, pointing it at his chest.

  "You said this was a game, right? Fine. I'll be your opponent. I won't lose against an asshole like you. I'll give everything I have to erase your existence. Got it? Do you understand? Or are you too stupid?"

  But Kazushi still seemed at ease. He was probably thinking how she was a girl, and what's more, injured, so he couldn't lose against her.

  "I'll say it again," she continued, "Don't even think of raping me after beating me to a pulp. Look, little kid, you should worry more about your life than your dick."

  Kazushi's face contorted, and he raised the nunchucks up to his face.

  Takako gripped her ice pick. The tension between them mounted.

  He was probably fifteen centimeters taller, twenty kilograms heavier. Takako was probably the number one female athlete in her class but she had little chance of winning. On top of this, her right leg was pretty badly injured. But...she couldn't lose, no matter what.

  Suddenly, Kazushi made a move. He came forward, swinging the nunchucks down!

  Takako blocked them with her right arm. One of her two bracelets flew into the air (it was made by South American Indians, it was a favorite, damn). She felt a sting run up her arm up to the center of her skull. Despite the sting though, she thrust the ice pick upward. Kazushi grimaced as he stepped back, dodging it. Once again they were two meters apart.

  Takako's left arm was stinging now. But she was all right, nothing was broken.

  He resumed his attack. This time he swung the nunchucks with the motion of a backhand tennis swing.

  Takako dodged them by crouching down. The nunchucks skimmed her long, streaked hair—several strands flew into the air. Takako quickly swung her ice pick at his right wrist. She felt it wound him slightly as Kazushi groaned a little and stepped back.

  They were apart again. Kazushi's wrist, the hand holding the nunchucks, was red. But the cut didn't seem severe.

  The wound on her right leg was throbbing. She could tell the entire leg below her thigh was covered with blood. She wouldn't last much longer like this. She also noticed a panting sound. It came from her lips.

  Kazushi once again swung his nunchucks. She could see he was aiming at the left side of her head and her shoulder.

  Takako stepped forward. She suddenly recalled something Hiroki, who was a martial arts expert, had taught her, "You can defeat your opponent by throwing his timing off. Sometimes, taking a bold step forward can be crucial."

  The nunchucks hit her shoulder, but just as Hiroki had said, it was only the chain, which hardly hurt her. Takako leaped into his chest. Kazushi's face, his eyes wide open in dismay, was right in front of hers. She thrust the ice pick upward.

  Kazushi shoved Takako away with his empty left hand. Takako lost her balance from her wounded right leg and fell forward.

  Barely escaping her stab, Kazushi rubbed his unharmed chest with his left hand. "You're really something," he said.

  Kazushi quickly swung his nunchucks down at Takako, who was slow getting up. This time he was aiming at her face!

  Takako blocked the blow with her ice pick. Along with the metallic clang, the ice pick flew into the air and landed in the dirt. The only thing left in her hand now was intense pain.

  Takako bit her lip. She glared at him as she stepped back. Kazushi grinned and slowly came forward. Undoubtedly this guy was mentally disturbed. He had no qualms about beating a girl to death. In fact, he was enjoying it!

  Kazushi swung his nunchucks again. She dodged them by bending back—but the nunchucks followed her instead. Perhaps he'd gotten used to them. This time Kazushi managed to extend his reach.

  She felt a sharp thud against the left side of her head. She began to sway. A warm liquid came flowing out her left nostril.

  She was on the verge of falling. Kazushi must have looked like he was sure he'd won.

  Still swaying, Takako's pretty, sharply curved eyes squinted.

  As she fell, she stretched out her long legs and with all her might kicked Kazushi's left knee from the right side. Kazushi let out a painful moan and fell on his left knee. His body floundered and rotated halfway on his knee. Now she saw his back.

  Had she tried to take the ice pick, Takako might have lost. But that wasn't what she did.

  She leaped onto Kazushi's back.

  She clutched onto his head as if riding on his shoulders. Her weight forced him to fall forward.

  If a thought occurred to her it was in choosing which fingers she should use. Her index and middle...no...the strongest combination would be her middle finger and thumb. And...Takako had always taken good care of her nails. No matter how many times her team coach Mr. Tada scolded her about them she refused to shorten her nails.

  Hanging onto Kazushi, Takako grabbed hold of his hair and yanked his head back. She could tell where they were.

  Kazushi must have suddenly realized her intentions. She saw him shut his eyes.

  It was useless though. Takako's right middle finger and thumb tore through his eyelids and dug into his eye sockets.

  "AIEEEEEEEEEEE!"

  Kazushi screamed. He fell on his arms, got up on his knees, dropped his nunchucks, and tried to brush off her hands. His body moved frantically as he tried to get rid of her.

  Takako held tightly onto Kazushi and refused to let go. She pushed her fingers in further. Her thumb and middle finger dug in up to their second joints. As she dug in, she felt something pop and realized it was his eyeballs. She didn't expect eye sockets to be this small. Takako didn't hesitate to bend her sharp fingers inward. Blood and a semi-transparent slimy liquid came oozing down his cheeks like weird tears.

  'ARRRRGH," Kazushi cried as he got up and swung his arms around frantically. He tried to pry her right hand loose from his head with both of his hands and pulled at Takako's hair.

  Takako leaped off Kazushi, who ended up with what felt like several strands or even a bundle of hair. Well, she couldn't be worried about that now.

  She looked for her ice pick and found it. She snatched it up.

  Kazushi moaned and swung his arms at the (literally) unseen enemy. Then he fell back on his rear end. His eyes were open, bu
t his eyes were completely immersed in a sea of red. He resembled an albino monkey now. Takako dragged her right leg and limped toward him. She lifted her wounded right leg and stomped down onto his unprotected crotch. The purple-striped white track sneaker was now red, soaked with Takako's own blood. Underneath its sole she felt a squashing sensation as if she were crushing a rodent. "URGH," Kazushi moaned. He held his crotch and turned on his side, balled up like a fetus. Now Takako began stepping on his throat with her left leg. She put her weight on it. Kazushi reached out, trying to move her foot, hitting it feebly, trying to free himself.

  "Hel..." Kazushi uttered. It sounded like a tiny draft of air because his throat had been crushed. "Help..."

  Yeah right, Takako thought. She could tell her mouth was breaking into a grin. She realized she wasn't angry anymore. She was actually enjoying this. She was sure about it. So what? She never claimed to be Pope John Paul II or the 14th Dalai Lama.

  On her knees now, she thrust the ice pick into his mouth (she saw several cavity fillings). His arms which were struggling to pull at her leg suddenly froze. Takako pushed further. It sunk into his throat without much resistance. Kazushi's entire body, from his chest down to his toes, then went into convulsions as if swimming the submariner. Then it stopped. The albino eyes still remained open, surrounded by a spider's web pattern of gooey blood like running paint.

  She felt a sudden surge of pain in her right leg and fell on her back by his head. She was panting now the way she did after doing the 200-meter dash twice for physical tests.

  She'd won. But she also felt empty. The actual fight might have lasted less than thirty seconds. She wouldn't have survived a longer fight. In any case...she won. That's what mattered.

  Takako held her blood-soaked right leg as she looked down at the corpse of Kazushi, who resembled a traveling magician attempting to spit out an ice pick from his throat. Now ladies and gentlemen, I shall spit out what I just swallowed—

  "Takako."

  The voice came from behind her. Still seated, Takako turned around. She reached out and pulled out the ice pick from Kazushi's mouth (which resulted in Kazushi's head rising a little and then falling to the ground).

  Mitsuko Souma (Female Student No. 11) was looking down at Takako.

  Takako quickly looked over at Mitsuko's right hand. Her small hand was holding a large automatic pistol.

  She had no idea what her intentions were. But...if like Kazushi Niida she intended to kill her (it was likely, this after all was Mitsuko Souma),Takako had no chance of winning. Mitsuko had a gun.

  She had to escape. She had to. Takako pulled at her right leg in pain and tried to get up.

  "Are you all right?" Mitsuko asked. Her voice sounded terribly kind. She didn't point the gun at her.

  But Takako had to be cautious. She moved back and finally managed to get up by holding onto a tree nearby. Her right leg felt incredibly heavy.

  She answered, "Well, I suppose."

  Mitsuko looked over Kazushi's corpse. Then she looked at the ice pick in Takako's hands.

  "You killed him with that? I have to say I'm impressed. Speaking as one girl to another."

  She really sounded like she was impressed. It almost sounded cheerful. Her angelic face was beaming.

  "I guess," Takako responded. She felt as if her body were off balance. Perhaps it was from the heavy loss of blood from her right leg.

  "Say," Mitsuko said. "You never went out of your way to impress me."

  Still unable to tell what Mitsuko's intentions were, Takako stared at her. (The two most beautiful girls in Shiroiwa Junior High were staring at each other. Nice jewelry and a boy's corpse. Oh, you're so pretty.)

  Mitsuko was absolutely right. Takako couldn't stand sucking up to anyone, so she was never intimidated like the other girls when Mitsuko talked to her. She was too proud and besides, she wasn't scared of Mitsuko.

  Then she remembered something an older student she had a crush on a while ago (actually, it ended only a couple months ago) used to say. Whereas her feelings for Hiroki Sugimura were vague, she definitely had a crush on this guy. After getting involved in one of his friend's fights, he showed up all beat up at the team room before one of their meets and said in his unique voice, "There's nothing to be afraid of. Nothing to fear."

  Be strong and beautiful....Takako had her eye on this guy ever since she entered junior high and it seemed he'd had a profound effect on her personality. But he also had a girlfriend. Someone very elegant, yes, someone like Sakura Ogawa...someone calm as a serene lake hidden deep inside a forest....Well that was all in the past.

  But—she thought—the fact that she suddenly recalled his words which hadn't occurred to her even when she was fighting Kazushi Niida just moments ago....Did that mean that...she was...in fact...afraid of Mitsuko?

  "I was always a little envious," Mitsuko continued. "You were so pretty, and you were a better girl than me."

  Takako listened quietly. She immediately realized there was something wrong. Why was Mitsuko referring to her in the past tense?

  "But..." Mitsuko's eyes twinkled playfully. Now she was back to the present tense. "I really like girls like you. Maybe I'm a bit of a dyke. So it's..."

  Takako's eyes opened wide. She turned around and began running. Her right leg dragged a little, but it was still a respectable sptint for the track star. So it's...

  Mitsuko lifted the .45. She pulled the trigger three times in a row. Takako had managed to run down the hill and through the woods, covering a quick twenty meters when three holes appeared in the back of her uniform. She fell forward as if diving in a head-first slide. Face down, she slid across the ground, and her legs contrasted against each other, the left one white and the right one red as they flew into the air, her skirt fluttering against them. She was lying on the ground.

  Mitsuko put down the gun and said, "It's too bad."

  24 players remaining

  38

  Noriko's breathing grew heavier. Shogo's medicine didn't seem to be having much effect. It was close to 2 p.m. All of a sudden Noriko's cheeks appeared sunk in. Shuya used up a water bottle to moisten Noriko's handkerchief, and wiped her sweaty face, and then placed it on her forehead. Noriko kept her eyes closed, but nodded as if to thank him.

  Shuya looked back at Shogo. Shogo remained in the same position, leaning against a tree all this time, smoking with his legs crossed. His right hand gently touched the grip of the Remington shotgun resting in his lap.

  "Shogo."

  "What?"

  "Let's go."

  Shogo raised his brows. "Where?"

  Shuya's lips tightened. "I can't stand it anymore." He pointed to Noriko. "She's getting worse every second."

  Shogo glanced at Noriko, who was lying down with her eyes closed. "If it's from septicemia, warming her up and letting her rest won't cure her."

  Shuya did his best to restrain his impatience. "According to the map, there's a medical clinic on the island. We might be able to find some better medicine for her there, right? It's way north of the residential area, and it's not in any of the forbidden zones."

  "Oh yeah." Shogo exhaled smoke from the corner of his mouth. "That's true."

  "Let's go there."

  Shogo tilted his head. He took another drag and then rubbed out the cigarette. "That facility is at least one and a half kilometers away. It's too dangerous to go there now. We have to wait until dark."

  Shuya clenched his teeth. "We can't wait until dark. What if that area becomes a forbidden zone?"

  Shogo didn't reply.

  "Hey," Shuya said. He wasn't sure whether it was from impatience or the mere thought of having to risk falling out with Shogo, but he was beginning to stutter a little. He had to say it though. "I-I won't say you're trying to get us killed. But why are you so afraid of taking any risks? Your life that precious?"

  Shuya looked him in the eye. Shogo didn't change his calm expression.

  "Shuya..."

  Shuya heard Noriko's voi
ce behind him and turned around. Noriko had her head turned toward him. The handkerchief on her forehead was lying on the ground.

  "Stop it. We won't make it without Shogo," she managed to say in between heavy breaths.

  "Noriko." Shuya shook his head. "Don't you see how weak you're getting? You can't die before we can make it out of here." Shuya turned to Shogo again. "If you say you're not coming, I'll take Noriko with me on my own. You can forget about our deal. You're on your own." That was his parting remark as he got ready to get their bags.

  "Hold on," Shogo said. He slowly got up, approached Noriko, and checked the pulse of her right wrist. It was what he did every twenty minutes. He rubbed his increasingly stubbly chin again and looked at them. "You won't know what medicine to use." He tilted his head slightly, looked at Shuya, and said, "All right. I'm coming with you."

  24 students remaining

  39

  Although over half an hour had passed since she'd been shot in the back three times and though she'd lost a large quantity of blood from the arrow wound in her leg, Takako Chigusa was still alive. Mitsuko Souma had disappeared, but Takako couldn't care less about that.

  She was half dozing, half dreaming. Her family...her father, mother, and younger sister were all waving at Takako from the front gate of their house.

  She could tell her sister Ayako, who was two years younger, was crying. She was saying, "Goodbye, Takako, goodbye." Her handsome father, from whom Takako had inherited most of her features and her mother who shared her looks more with Ayako, were both silent, looking very sad. Their pet dog, Hanako, drooped her head and wagged her tail. Takako had taken care of Hanako, smart female dog, ever since she was a puppy.

  Oh shit, Takako thought in her dream, how awful. I've only lived fifteen years. Hey Ayako, look after Mom and Dad, okay? You're so spoiled, so learn from your older sister a little, huh? Then she saw Kahoru Kitazawa. Her one really close friend, the petite girl she'd been buddies with for seven years now.

  Time to say goodbye to you too, Kahoru. That's right. You were the one who said that nothing, not even hell, could scare you as long as you gave it your best shot. That's right, I'm not afraid. But...it's still kinda hard, dying alone like this....